Message-ID: <13068eli$9807151645@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Dream Spinner" Subject: ST: At Their Mercy - 06 (m, b, bestiality, mind control) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980715061825.4306.qmail@hotmail.com> Warning Welcome from Masters Jay, Tyler and Billie: If you been reading these stories then you know it's about us three boys, ages 9 to 11, having hypnotized a forty-four-year-old man and making the old fart obey us. You also know if you got any ideas of stuff we can do you can send them to the above address and we'll sure act out your fantasy or fav pastime. In this Part ol'man Wallace is our new pet dog, and does, well, what doggies do in the park. It that offends you then you better wait for Part 7, but if you are like reader M**c who sent us some kewel ideas including this one, then here is a great story we're calling "Our New Pet" At Their Mercy - Part 6 I am a man of routine and orderliness. I know at the office they joke that they can set their clocks by me, and they joke that I probably even have the paper clips arranged in my drawer by colour and the spices in the spice rack at home alphabetically. That people can predict what I will do and when I will do it is something I am proud of. To me that is being dependable and organized, although I know to others they think that means being boring. Yes, I do get upset if things are out of order, or not as they should be, or if things happen that interrupt my routines. It is an inconvenience and an inconsideration of my time. That is my nature, and after forty-four years, that is not going to change. My working life is just an extension of my personal life, or maybe it is the other way around. I follow the same practices of routine and orderliness at home as I do at the office. I do my major shopping regularly once every two weeks, the Saturday morning after each payday. As soon as I return home, I check the purchases with the till receipts. It is surprising how often the checkout clerks make errors. I suppose it is because people in those jobs aren't the most intelligent. If they were, they wouldn't be doing that sort of work. Anyway, after checking the receipts, I put the purchases away, each in its own spot. Of course I don't organize my groceries alphabetically, but I do put all the same category together, soups with soups, vegetables with vegetables, and the like. I then sit down for a cup of tea before making lunch. Routine and orderliness make for an efficient life. This Saturday morning was like any other payday Saturday morning, but as I sat down for my pre-lunch tea, I had a problem. There was a small collection of purchases left on the kitchen counter that I had no place for. I stared at the two receipts again. From the grocery store: 1 pkg Canine Chewy Outs $1.89 2 cans Dog Food Combo $2.58 2 cans Dog Food Chp Beef $1.98 2 cans Dog Food Chks Bf/gravy $2.18 1 Rawhide Chew $3.99 >From the pet store I had bought: 1 Trak-60 leash $22.99 1 Dog Collar $ 2.99 1 Plastic Bowl $ 4.79 1 Rubber Ball $ 3.19 Forty-six dollars and fifty-eight cents worth of purchases. The problem was, I did not have a dog. Of course by this time whenever something totally out of character happened, I knew the source. Five and a half weeks had gone by now since my child tormentors, the three denizens from hell, had chosen to cross my life, all because I had crossed theirs and had phoned their parents about them constantly cutting across my property on their way home from school and stealing my apples from my tree. These purchases had to be their doing. I could not figure out the why behind this latest scheme of theirs, or rather, this latest scheme from one of the wicked minds that has been reading my account of the boys' weekly tortures. Perhaps this was purely innocent. Perhaps they wanted a dog but not the responsibility of looking after it, so found a solution in having the animal stay with me. Even if that was all it was, I prayed not. I do not like animals. Actually I like them even less than I like kids, and with my three tormentors, I was disliking kids more and more each week. I keep my house immaculate, and the idea of an animal with all its fur and smells and clutter and bodily functions made my hair stand on end. I have always been particular about my home and belongings, and after the party the boys threw at my home three weeks ago just the thought of anything happening sends me running for the Valium. Even after three weeks, every time I make supper I cringe at the memory of having to clean the mushy, stinking turd out from under the burner on the stove. Now if the boy's intention was not for me to keep a pet for them, then I had no idea what to expect. I was confident that their plan was much more than that though, and that it would be something degrading and perverted. I did not have to wonder long. I was just finishing my tea when the doorbell rang. "Hi, Mr. Wallace," my three tormentors greeted as I opened the door. "Boys," I replied, less than enthusiastically. My three tormentors glanced at each other. "Masters," I quickly corrected. "That's fucking better," Master Jay commented, and the three exchanged satisfied grins. I was not under their hypnotic control and did not have to follow their command to call them Master, and I certainly could reprimand Jay for his language. Insolence and vulgarity in children are totally unacceptable and intolerable, and I will never understand adults who put up with it, especially parents. However, this was different. If I reprimanded these boys, it would only worsen things between us, and I certainly did not intend on antagonizing them. "Kewel, you got all the stuff," Master Billie said, spotting the items on the counter. "Then we might as well get started. Strip down," ordered Master Jay. I stared at him. I knew to refuse would just mean that he would put me under his control and then I would have to do it, but there was no way I was going to obey that order willingly. Even though the boys had not only seen me naked the past five times we had met, but had watched me doing some very disgusting things while I was naked, I was not going to willingly humiliate myself. "Damn shithead. Now, fucking do it," Jay snapped. Responding immediately to the posthypnotic cue, I reached for the top button of my shirt as I felt myself again falling under his spell. It was like falling down a long, dark shaft, dropping faster and faster as my own mind was left at the top and all that remained was an emptiness waiting for Jay to fill. It was not long before I was standing before the boys stark naked. In the beginning they had been keenly interested in my nudity, but by now it had become common place for them. "Go put on your jock strap." I left to do as I had been told. How he knew I had one I did not know, but I suspected he had either asked once when I'd been hypnotized, or had simply been in my personal drawers in my bedroom. I soon returned. "Okay, now squat down and listen to this real close, shithead," Jay commanded, and I immediately squatted down. "You've been behaving real good," he began, and I felt a flood of pride that I had been successful in pleasing my master. Deeper down my mind was asking me what the hell I was proud about, doing perverted things for a group of spoiled, vulgar brats. "But you have to do it better and harder, understand?" "Yes, Master Jay." "Like dude, we are your masters and you are a shitting good-for-nothing slave. You gotta treat us like kings, like the most important people in your miserable life, understand?" "Yes, Master Jay," I repeated most subserviently. "Okay, you remember that, even when you are not hypnotized, got it?" "Yes, Master Jay." "It's sortta like how it's gonna be today. The three of us are your masters, and you are our dog. You are a good dog, obedient as hell. We tell you to do something and you wag your doggy tail and run and do it. Got that?" "Yes, Master Jay." "Ya gotta be a dog, like totally dude. Ya gotta act like a dog, think like a dog, bark like a dog, you are a dog, not a man, 'cept you can understand our words. Ya got that shithead, you are a dog, a big hairy dog that loves his three masters. If you understand, bark like a dog." "Rarff, rarff," I found myself saying and the boys cracked up with laugher. To my dog mind that meant they liked what I had done. "Rarff, raff, rarff," I repeated enthusiastically, eager to please my masters, which made the boys laugh all the more. "Okay, Poochy, that's a good boy," Jay said, patting me on the head. "That's your name, Poochy, understand?" "Rarff." Getting the collar, Billie put it around my neck while Tyler opened up the retractable leash and Jay gathered everything else up in one of the plastic shopping bags. "Hey, where is the can opener?" he asked, looking at me. I opened my mouth, but I could not say the words. I tried again. "Fucking far out, you really got him thinking he's a dog," giggled Billie. "Go ahead boy, go over and show him where ol'Wallace keeps the can opener." I scooted over on my hands and knees to the right drawer and then squatting down, I reached up and put my paws on it. "That's a good doggie," said Billie, coming over and patting me on the head. "Ok, we're going to take you for a walk, Poochy, you like to go for walks?" "Rarff, rarff," I replied, grinning up at Jay. "Being such a smart dog, you can walk on your hind two feet, unless we say otherwise." With that we headed out the door and down the street, me in just my jock strap and with Billie holding my leash. We cut down the alley and headed over to the small park along the ravine near my place. There were several other kids there on the playground equipment, and a few families. They gave us a curious look when we arrived but soon ignored us. I knew they were all from the neighbourhood, and although I knew I was a dog and felt like a dog, I knew deep down inside that was not right. I wondered what they were thinking. It could have been worse, the boys could have had me go naked. Of course that would have been reported, and that would have ended their fun. As it was, I was surprised nobody objected to what I was wearing. The boys decided that I should have my lunch first, and selected the chopped beef. It resembled canned corned beef in appearance and consistency. They dumped it in my bowl and I got on hands and knees to chow down. The taste was not totally unpleasant, although I saw little resemblance to real beef. On the other hand, the odour and knowing what it was made of made what I was doing revolting. As I bit into the pasty lump, it was a strange combination of feelings. On the one hand I was a dog and this was delicious, but also in the inner recesses of my mind where the boys had been unable to reach, I knew what was reality. With each bite my stomach objected, yet I eagerly took another munch and even licked my bowl clean. Again Billie petted me on the head for being such a good Poochie. The boys then took me for a bit of a walk along the edge of the park "in case I had to go poop". A man walking his lab approached from the opposite direction with evidently the same idea. After the dog did his business, he continued past us, giving me a look that was both of bemusement and disapproval. He was evidently amused that I would play this game of being the boys' dog with them, but also critical of my choice of skimpy cover. As we continued on, I instinctively obeyed my doggy impulse and got down on my hands and knees and sniffed at the dog poop by the side of the path. Unable to stop myself, I swatted above it and began to add my own. The boys quickly huddled around me so the others in the park would not see, but they could barely stand they were laughing so hard. "Now that is a real good Poochie," said Billie as he patted my head, and the boys giggled hysterically. The boys released me from the leash and had me retrieve the ball for a while. Even though I keep myself in shape by going to the gym once a week, I wasn't up to chasing a rubber ball all afternoon, and I was soon exhausted. They then decided to have me sit up and beg, and to perform tricks, rolling over and playing dead, shaking my paw and the like. Each time I was rewarded with a Canine Chewy Out, little squares of beef-flavoured treats that were not that bad except for knowing they were dog food. Again on one hand I was eager to perform for my masters, for their praise and for the treats, but at the same time I knew they were humiliating me. By this time it was close to three and the others using the park had left. A dog came by and the boys used the treats to coax the animal over to us. They tried to get the two of us to play together, but it did not work. I was under their control, not the other dog. They were about to give up when another dog appeared, and seeing us, headed over to join us. Of course one of the first things the two animals did was check each other out. The boys had me get on my hands and knees and do the same to the dogs. The dogs, one of them female and the other male, tolerated me but did not return the action. Again, the dog part of my mind saw nothing wrong with this but deeper down I hated the boys for what they were making me do. Another dog arrived and hot on its heels were two more. The one animal was evidently a female, and evidently in heat from actions of the other two dogs. They were joined by the other male dog and the three chased the bitch around, each trying to mount her while the other two tried to prevent the third from doing so. The boys were much amused at the attempts of the dogs to mount the female. "How come that other dog isn't trying to screw?" Billie asked me, indicating the first dog that had arrived and that was now heading down the ravine. I looked up at him, unable to answer. I gave him a whimper. "That's okay, you can talk to answer my questions," he said. "The other dog is a female," I answered, my voice sounding strange and my mind torn between the command to act totally like a dog and the permission to speak like a human. "Then how come the others aren't trying to screw her?" "She must not be in heat." "What's that mean?" "When female dogs are ready to get pregnant, they give off a scent that will tell the male dogs that they are ready for sex." "Well, hey, you're a male dog, go get it," Billie said with a grin. I took that as a command and immediately headed over to the other dogs. The dogs were not impressed with my interference, and let me know with growls and bared teeth. I was unable to defend myself in any other way than as another dog. I growling back and snapped my teeth at them. "Hey, Poochie, come back here," Billie called, seeing my problem. "That's okay, boy," Tyler said patting me on the head. "We know you like boy dogs better anyway." The others laughed. "Hey, do boy dogs do boy dogs?" Billie asked me. "No, not normally, although I have seen some so excited by the heat from a female dog they have tried to have sex with a male dog." "So guy dogs really get turned on by this scent thing?" Tyler asked. "Yes." "That's why they sniff between the legs?" asked Jay. "Yes." "That's where this scent is?" "Yes, from the female's vulva." "What's that?" "Her sex organ." The three boys silently watched the three dogs competing with each other for a minute. "Sooooo," said Jay, drawing out the word. The way he said it and the look in his eyes frightened me. "If a dog smells that scent it tells him come screw me, right?" "Yes." The boys looked at each other, each evidently having the same thought. "Take off your underwear, Billie." Billie quickly removed his pants and underwear and pulled his pants back on. Taking his underwear and picking up some stones at the edge of the ravine, the three boys approached the dogs. Chasing off the males with the stones, they used the treats to coax the female over to where I was. Opening up a can of dog food for her, she gave them no objections as Billie rubbed his underwear between her legs. The stimulation of her vulva caused her to produce even more of the scent. Having me take off the jock, they rubbed it between her legs too while she finished off the can of dog food. As soon as the food was gone, the dog took off. The boys had me put the jock back on and get on my hands and knees and Billie rubbed his stained underwear along the crack between my ass cheeks and over my asshole. He was still doing that when the three dogs they had chased off returned looking for the bitch. They instead found me. They immediately sniffed between my legs at the jock, and at my asshole. One of them, a German Shepard, was convinced I was the real thing and suddenly leaped on me, wrapping his legs about my waist with a vice like grip and thrusting his lower body at my ass. The boys hooted with excitement. "Atta boy Poochie, let him have a good fuck," called out Billie. The boys distracted the other two dogs with the treats while the German Shepard shuffled up closer to my ass and continued to thrust his body at me. "He's really gonna do it." "Look. Lookit his cock." "Jeez. It's as red as a fire hydrant." "I think it's gonna go in him." "Fuck, lookit!" I felt the dog's hard sticky-headed cock poking between my asscheeks, trying to find the opening. It felt as hot as hell. Obeying Master Billie's command, I opened up my sphincter and squirmed to get in the right position. Finally feeling the tip of his hot cock at my anus, I strained to open up and pushed my hips back. As soon as the tip of his hot, red organ spread open my anus, the dog instinctively lunged forward, probably thinking it was a vulva if a dog can think. I inhaled deeply as I felt his long, slender cock penetrate me. It was hot and slick, and he sank it all the way in with one lunge. The dog humped as only a dog knows how, with sharp rapid thrusts. His hot breath panted against my back and his furry body grasped me tightly as he humped between my legs. I could feel his drool dripping on my body and running down around my ribs. The three boys were sitting there in rapt attention, a look of amazement and of amusement on their faces. It was a perverted amusement, the amusement of seeing something dirty happening, and the amusement of seeing someone they hated being humiliated and debased. This was the ultimate humiliation, being subjected to the animal lust of a dog, being screwed by a dog in a public park as if I was a dog myself. At least there was nobody around to witness it. Suddenly the dog tightened his grip about my waist and as his slender dick throbbed he pressed his furry body tighter against my rump. He was shooting his stuff up my ass. I was actually being pumped full of hot, thick dog cum! The moment did not escape the boys and they hooted and cheered even more. Satisfied, the dog withdrew his cock and dismounted. Looking around over my shoulder, I saw his cock, red and slick, still sticking out of the hairy encasing, a final drop of dog cum still clinging to the opening. The other two dogs were straining to get loose. The boys released one of them, a Doberman. Like the German Shepard, he wasted no time in mounting me. A couple quick sniffs to make sure, and he circled behind and leaped on me. My asshole now slick with dog cumm, he had less trouble penetrating me. The boys laughed and called out encouragement as the animal began humping my ass. He thrust his cock in and out rapidly, caring only for the release of his seed. I had to brace myself to withstand the force and fury with which he was humping. Once again the boys sat there and watched, thoroughly enjoying my humiliation and debasement. The Doberman was soon pumping its thick white seed up my asshole to join that deposited by the German Shepard. The last dog, a black lab, didn't mind that two others had preceded him. He attacked my ass with just as much interest and fury as the first two. I could do nothing but kneel there as the three boys cheered and laughed and made dirty remarks about what a hot bitch their Poochie was. The black lab certainly agreed, and he thrust his cock in and out of my abused asshole with a frenzy, his drool literally streaming out of his mouth and basting my back and ribs. He too finally added his doggie cum to the two loads already up my hole. I just counted my blessings that nobody else had come to the park throughout it all. The boys finally put my leash back on and returned me to my house. Billie opened up a can of the chunks of beef with gravy as a reward for my good behaviour, and as I stood there on my hands and knees in the kitchen and ate, the boys got a snack themselves. They discussed the day's events as they made peanut butter and jam sandwiches and helped themselves to the Gatoraide in the refrigerator. "You was real good today, Poochie," Billie said, coming over and patting me on the head. "Did you like your afternoon with your masters, Poochie?" "Rwruff, rwuff," I replied. "Bet you liked getting screwed the most, huh?" he asked "Rwruff," I answered. The three boys high fived and giggled. "You can have my underwear to remember it by," Billie said. "You can curl up with it tonight when you got to bed and smell that doggie scent and remember how great it was." The boys headed for the door. "Okay asshole, this has been fun," said Jay. With the cue word I felt myself starting to emerge from that dark tunnel. "I'll be over for the story tomorrow. And by the way, you might wanna know we got two more guys that have sent us ideas. That's seven different guys that have sent us ideas so far. Isn't that kewel?" "Yes," I replied. "Cool." "Not only that! We checked where they've been posting your stories. The first chapter is sixth out of the top 20 this week! A hundred-and-forty-one guys read it. Too bad they didn't all send in ideas!" The boys all giggled as they headed down the street. I showered for over an hour, and even then I did not feel clean after what had happened to me. At this moment my skin is covered with goose bumps thinking about it, and even now I swear I can feel the dog cum up my ass. I've finished the story, and I wonder if maybe this time the boys have not gone too far. Surely once men read this one, they will stop reading these stories and this nonsense will stop. Jay said seven men have written them ideas, so I know that there has to be at least two more encounters with my tormentors. I am thankful that not everyone who reads these stories responds. It is bad enough knowing that there are a hundred-and-forty-one men who have read about my humiliation. The only consolation I have is that things cannot possibly get more humiliating or perverted than what the boys made me do today. Of course, that is what I figured last week also. However, there is nothing I can do about it, at least for now. It is late and I think I will have a snack before I go to bed. I have this craving for a warmed-up can of Ballard's beef and gravy, and then I think I'll curl up with Billie's underwear and gnaw on my new rawhide chew for a bit.--====================987654321_0==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----