"Dog show girl" - читать интересную книгу автора (Isley Carl)

CHAPTER FIVE – Dog Show Girl

A young friend of mine, when he heard I was surveying the subject of bestiality, suggested that I check out a freaky chick of his acquaintance who had been known to perform wild stunts with a small dog at parties and other social gatherings. I looked into the matter and came across Julia, a beautiful twentyish fugitive from the love-generation. She had dropped out of high school and split from home at seventeen and in the two or three years since then had set some kind of world's record for number and variety of sexual couplings on her whirlwind wanderings – making the grand tour of hippy colonies and crash-pads from coast to coast. She was presently reported to be living as a "voluntary white slave" with a pair of unemployed black poets.

CASE 5 – Julia C.

I was introduced to Julia in a luncheonette booth where she was surrounded by a motley collection of her friends and fans of all ages, sexes and colors.

"I hear you wanted to interview me," she said.

"What's it for?" somebody asked, "Indoor Sports Illustrated?"

They all seemed to think that was pretty funny. I didn't know just how to approach the subject I had in mind to her. Even without the crowd in attendance and in spite of her wild reputation, I couldn't very well ask a strange girl bluntly, "Is it true that you fuck dogs at parties?"

I tried to arrange a private interview session with her for a later time but the best I could get from her in her dreamy high condition was an invitation to "see me at the bash tonight." I figured I'd have to settle for that for the time being. At the "bash" maybe I'd be able to corner her and get her talking, or maybe I'd even get to see her do her famous dog act in person if I was lucky.

It turned out to be no ordinary party but a staged affair, specially set up to be filmed for an underground movie. I felt a bit freaky myself when I walked in, being the only one present in a business suit. The costumes generally were pretty far over the line on the nude side – with most of the girls covered more by body paint, spangles and pasted-on flowers than by clothes. The music was pounding – lights flashing – and everyone dutifully writhing about in primitive dance movements while a couple of hairy cameramen roamed the floor, shooting orgiastic close-ups of them all, mostly at tit and crotch-level.

I found Julia stretched out flat in a corner, under a cloud of blue pot-smoke of her own making.

"Why aren't you in the movie?" I said, inhaling a cautious noseful of her heady exhaust fumes.

She laughed dreamily. Her big beautiful eyes didn't seem to be quite focusing on me. "My big scene comes later," she said. "Stick around."

She had on an oversized T-shirt like a minidress, with a man's necktie around the waist as a sash. I got the impression that she was wearing nothing at all underneath it, but I couldn't be sure in the dim light. Then something stirred behind her and I noticed for the first time a little dirty-gray mop of a poodle lying there. He was staring up at me with one wide blurry eye and I would have sworn that the dog was as stoned as she was.

"You brought your dog along I see," I said.

"That's what you came for, isn't it?" she said, "to see the dog act?"

I laughed nervously. "Did they tell you the subject of my book?"

"Bestial practices, isn't it? That's my thing, baby. Me and Sir Clarence."

"Er – what do you – you and Clarence – how do you…?" I didn't know quite how to phrase the question.

"Just hold your water – you'll see for yourself how," she said.

"Are they actually going to film you and the dog – er – in action?" I asked.

"Shit yeah. Why not? It's the grand technicolor climax of the whole motherfucking movie."

"Aren't you afraid of getting in trouble by putting yourself on record that way? Making it with a dog is sort of illegal you know."

She laughed and patted Clarence's belly. "Everything I do is illegal. It's the only way to live." She punctuated her point by blowing a cloud of highly-illegal smoke up into my face.

Just then a very large Afro-American bruiser appeared from nowhere and gave me what I took to be an unfriendly size-up. I figured he must be one of the poet slave-masters I'd heard about, although he looked more like a middle line-backer than a bard. He snapped his fingers at Julia. "Come on – up. Let's go. They're ready for you and you ain't ready."

She sprang up and the dog popped up with her. The black man took hold of her T-shirt and peeled it up over her head, which left her naked as a jaybird just as I expected. Both her breasts – round and firm and beautiful – had been painted blue, and there were arrows running down from them across her ribs and belly, pointing towards her pussy, which was shaved bald. Otherwise there was just acres and acres of beautiful golden naked skin, as far as the eye could see.

Her black master clapped a possessive hand onto her ass and said harshly, "You better not fuck up the deal, baby, or you know what you get!"

She picked up the poodle and hugged it to her breasts. "He'll be all right tonight," she said. "He's too stoned to be scared. We'll give them a complete show, don't worry."

"Oh, I ain't worrying, baby," he said, giving her ass cheek a hard grab and a twist. "I leave that to you."

The music had quit now and the lights all of a sudden came up brighter. "We're ready for the dog-act," somebody yelled out.

The black man slapped Julia's ass and she gave me a wink and went skipping off into the bright light, clutching her woolly lover tight to her with his head perched up between her bobbing boobs.

I moved off to find myself a seat where I could be out of the way of the bustling technicians but still get a good ring-side view of whatever act of shameless bestiality was about to unfold.

A character with a handlebar mustache and a purple scarf who I took to be the director was at center-stage under a cloud of cigar smoke.

"Right here," he yelled at Julia in a startling, near-soprano voice. "The camera's centered on this spot, so keep your dirtiest action in this area, give or take a yard or two."

Julia moved into the light beside him and they went into a conference together, with the director patting and stroking either the dog's head or one of her blue boobs – it was hard to tell which from where I stood. Then he backed off, leaving her there alone with her little dog. The other kids took positions on the floor around her in a semi-circle, acting the part of her audience.

"Okay, baby," the director called out. "As soon as the camera's rolling you just go into your thing. We'll keep on shooting continuously – two cameras covering the whole scene – long shot and close-up – let's get it all in one take."

"You better!" she said. "Clarence might not hold up if you need retakes. He's a one-shot man."

The director held up his hand and yelled, "Okay, we're rolling – and GO!"

Julia set the dog down and he trotted away from her, out of the circle of light. Then she took a cigarette that someone handed her and struck a "prostitute on a street-corner" pose, with hand on out-thrust hip.

A boy came walking in, wearing a large cardboard fig-leaf. He stopped, eyed Julia up and down, circled around her once, and then raised up his fig-leaf and flipped his red-painted prick at her in a hip-bump.

She put her nose in the air and turned away from him in scorn. He shrugged, bumped his blue ass towards her disdainfully and moved away.

Then Lord Clarence the poodle came high-stepping in. He stopped just as the boy had done, cocked his head and looked her over, and then circled around her once. Julia stood absolutely still, ignoring him altogether.

Clarence moved in close to her feet, sniffed around her for a bit and then all of a sudden he lifted his hind leg, assumed the classic curbside posture, and began pissing against her ankle. She still held her position but turned her head and glanced down. The dog went on pissing nonchalantly until he was finished and then moved away again and sat down nearby to watch her.

Julia looked down at the puddle she was standing in now and she wiggled her toes about sloshing them in the piss-pool. Then she bent down and dipped her hands into it and began dabbing her ear-lobes and neck and boobs and underarms as if it were some kind of dainty perfume. Finally she put a finger into her mouth and licked it, sampling the flavor, and she smiled down approvingly at Clarence. He sat up then in a begging position and began wagging his tail, and Julia turned sideways and wiggled her tail at him.

After that they circled around each other a couple more times and then Julia got down on hands and knees and they moved in close and sniffed each other's noses. Clarence ran around behind her and took a sniff of her ass, and then she bent down and did the same thing to him. They were making quite a production out of it. It was going to be something brand new for the movies, by all indications. And the real action hadn't even begun yet. So far I'd have given it a 'R' rating – not recommended for children under sixteen.

But things got pretty 'X'y from there on. Clarence scurried around behind her again and began licking away at her rear-end – asshole, cunt, the works. After a little bit of that action they reversed positions once again and she went to work on the little mutt's hindquarters.

The boys with the cameras had moved in now. No more long shots. Everything would be in full-screen close-ups from here on apparently. So I moved in myself, just beyond the circle of prop spectators, to be sure I didn't miss any of the action myself.

The little poodle was in a sort of spread-legged squat, his hind legs trembling, as Julia's pretty pink tongue worked up under the cleft of his tail-end. Then she flopped over suddenly onto her back, grabbed onto Clarence and pulled him up over her face. With his hind legs straddling her cheeks, she proceeded to rain kisses and lip-nuzzlings on his little prick, which didn't stay little very long thereafter. She sucked him up to a respectable dog-sized erection and then she did a quick flip over onto her back and twisted herself around while little Lord Clarence stood patiently by, quivering all over in anticipation of the delights to come. She popped open her legs with a dramatic flourish, aiming her split pussy point-blank at the dog and into the peering eyes of the floor-level cameras.

She whistled softly and snapped her fingers and Clarence gave a little answering yip and then leaped forward up into the V of her sprawled crotch. He climbed up over her belly with his front paws, his prick straining forward into the cleft below, his tail wagging furiously.

"Go, man," the director called out, clapping his hands. Already he was counting up his profits from this history-making film epic that he saw happening before his very cameras.

But Lord Clarence needed no director to urge him on at this point. He knew his part and carried it through without a hitch. Julia didn't have to guide him into her. She only laid a hand on the fuzzy topknot of his head and patted him affectionately while he squirmed his slim little butt and wormed his out-thrust prick up into the ready receptacle of her slit. As soon as he was well up inside he began a fast humping, pounding a furious tattoo against her.

Julia spread her legs even wider to an incredible near-180 degree split, raised her feet off the floor and kicked out in time with the rapid rhythm of Clarence's pumping action. She quivered her ass-cheeks, shook her boobs, and pounded out a syncopated counter-beat on the tile floor with the palms of her hands.

"Oohhhh, cock it to me!" she sang. "Drive it home!"

The cameras were right in there now – inches from the action – blocking my view. But I could still see Clarence's pompom-tipped tail wig-wagging furiously in the air and hear his shrill yips as he drove on toward orgasm.

Then all of a sudden both cameramen leaped up and backed away. Clarence had finally called it quits apparently and now he just lay still where he was, up against her belly and still plugged into her passage but obviously past his orgasm. Only his tail was still in action, waving in the air feebly but triumphantly to celebrate another smash performance under pressure.

I got up myself, assuming that this was the end of the act, ready to join everybody else in a round of applause. But the show wasn't over yet after all. There was a grand finale yet to come, and it turned out to be a piece of action that I guarantee had never appeared on any motion picture screen before in history.

Julia laid her hands on Clarence's back and held him there and then she eased herself up slowly to a squat – then to kneeling – and finally all the way up onto her feet, still with the little gray mop of a puppy pressed tight to her out-thrust belly.

She stroked his head and bumped her hips against him a couple of times to firm up the inside connection. Then she raised first one hand and then the other into the air, and lo and behold! Little Lord Clarence was hanging there in thin air, his paws braced against her belly and thighs, but supported only by his rigid, bulbous prick, jammed tight up inside her tight-clutching cunt.

She bumped her hips again and then did a hula grind, but Clarence never budged – he was firmly locked on. Then, smiling broadly, she went into a little spread-legged dance step – spinning and gliding about the floor in her bizarre poodle pussy-patch.

It ended finally with her flopping down onto her back again, grabbing hold of Clarence, and then the two of them went into a wild final fuck with both of them hip-jerking together even more frantically than before, and both of them barking, "Yip-yip-yip!" at one another.

At last Julia let out a wailing shriek, presumably of unbearable orgasmic ecstasy, and with that the lights cut off and the show and the film sequence were finished.

And so finally I had seen Julia's fabulous dog-act with my own eyes. And now that I'd seen it, I was more eager than ever to interview young Julia and find out for myself how a sweet young maid from the country had managed to make good as a white slave, drug-freak, and bestial exhibitionist in the big city.

Her black keeper hustled her away that night before I could get to her again for further conversation, but I finally succeeded in setting up an exclusive lunch date with her and at long last I was able to sit down in a quiet place with her and Clarence and throw a few questions her way.

One's first impulse might be to feel sorry for Julia – that such a sweet, angelic-looking young doll should have got herself into such a variety of sordid messes at such an early age, but after talking with her and hearing her own version of her "degradation" process I found that she had a remarkably casual attitude toward it all and certainly did not pity herself in the least. It may be that she has gone so far out into left field on various kinds of drug trips that she just doesn't care what happens anymore. But let her tell it as she told it to me.

Isley – Why should an intelligent and very beautiful girl like yourself submit to such body abuse and abasement? Any rational reason?

Julia – (with a laugh and a shrug) Me and my body are two separate things. My head is where I love. Everything's cool and beautiful inside there. The things I do with my body are something else again. I use it for kicks – to get me around – to earn bread – to give pleasure to others. It's immaterial to me what I do with my body – it's nothing sacred to me. Only my mind is scared. Nothing reaches there unless I want it to.

Isley – But unfortunately your mind is fixed to your body. So if your mind wants to go here but your body is being forced to go somewhere else, then you have to go with it whether your mind likes it or not.

Julia – Oh, but nobody makes me do things I don't want to do. I dig all the things that happen to my body. When I freak out other people it freaks me out too.

Isley – How did you get involved in this bestiality business? Was that your idea, or did somebody steer you into it?

Julia – Oh, that was the cats I'm living with now. They made me do it once – trying to humiliate me. That was before they found out that it's impossible to do. You can't humiliate my body – I dig everything. Especially if it's something that nobody else would do.

Isley – These men you live with are both black, aren't they? Do you dig black men especially?

Julia – Not particularly. I'll tell you how I got into that. I met this one boy, Courtland, at a party and he started giving me a lecture about snooty white bitches. I just laughed and told him he was wrong – I didn't give a shit if he was green or purple.

He said, "You wouldn't date me though. You wouldn't sleep with me."

So I went with him just to prove he was wrong – prove it to myself too, I guess. But even after I slept with him he couldn't get over these hang-ups. I had to keep proving everything to him. I sucked his prick – I swallowed his come – I ate his asshole.

Isley – All this just to prove you weren't prejudiced?

Julia – No, I would've done it for anybody that asked me. I told you, I dig doing whatever anybody thinks I won't do. Courtland really flipped me. I'd never met anyone so hard to convince – so paranoid. I was feeling groovier and groovier all the time and he was getting more and more frustrated because he couldn't find the place where I'd draw the line. So then he started slapping me around to work off his aggressions and he told me that he wasn't going to let me go home. He was keeping me around his pad just for kicks. I told him, groovy! I got no place else to go.

Isley – How about getting beaten up? Did you dig that too?

Julia – Aside from helping him work off steam, it did sort of turn me on too, strange as it may sound. I never had been really treated rough – most guys treat me too nice all the time. That gets to be a drag, getting man-handled that way for once really lit my fire. From then on he punched me around every now and then when he'd get uptight and he'd lay into me with a belt sometimes too. He told me be was gonna pay me back for all the black people in history that had been beaten on by whites. That made it all the groovier for me – connecting it up with history and racial guilt that way.

Since then it's been real groovy for me with him all the way. No matter what happens – everything I do for him is paying off installments on our debt to the black race.

It doesn't work for him though unfortunately. I guess the fun in being master over somebody is in seeing them suffer. I know it makes him madder than hell that no matter what he does to me I always seem to enjoy it.

Isley – How did this second black man come into the picture?

Julia – Well, Courtland – always looking for a new hassle to lay on me – tried to spook me one night by threatening to invite all his friends in for a gang-bang on me. I laughed and said, "Wowhee-groovy!"

That made him even madder and he started right in calling up all the cats he knew, but the only one he could get hold of was E.I… He told E.I., "Come on over, man. I got a blonde cunt here that's hot for it."

So E.I. came over and he balled me pretty good and after Courtland had told him everything about me, he invited himself to move in and take over half-ownership. It was all the same with me. Since then E.I. has been pretty much taking care of me on the business end.

Isley – Who supports this cozy little household?

Julia – Well, the two guys make bread mostly by loaning me out to their friends. E.I. is the businessman of the crowd. He's always thinking up new ways to cash in on me. And we do all right for ourselves, I gotta admit.

Isley – Don't either of them ever work?

Julia – Well, they're poets, you know. That doesn't pay off too good. The things I do pay better than the things they do. It's as simple as that. Sometimes E.I. works with me in a fuck-show and then we both make bread for that.

Isley – Is that how the dog act started – as a way to make money?

Julia – Not exactly. Clarence is E.I.'s dog, and he already had the dog trained to lick his prick just for private pleasure. Then he taught him to lap my pussy and made me suck the dog too. One night when we were all stoned they got the dog to actually screw me for the first time. It worked so good that we began showing it off to other kids we knew for kicks and gradually from there it sort of developed bit by bit into the act that I do now.

But I didn't ever do it in public shows until one night when E.I. and I were putting on a sex-exhibition for this businessmen's party. We sixty-nined and stood on our heads and fucked and all our usual shit like that. After we were done they all wanted an encore, but E.I. was fucked out and couldn't cut it. So I said, "Hey, how about if I do the dog thing, man?"

And that's how it started. Me and Clarence have been knocking them dead ever since.

Isley – And now you're a movie star besides. Being at the pinnacle of show business success at last what do you see in your future?

Julia – Oooh, we're all going to Africa. Kenya, I think. Won't that be groovy?

Isley – Planning to do your dog act in the Nairobi opera house?

Julia – E.I. thinks we could actually do it in night-clubs over there in some of those countries. He says those cats flip over blonde chicks over there. We're gonna get a monkey or a baby lion even maybe and work out a whole big sex-scene with different kinds of animals. About four big black men and me – the white Goddess – and then these animals – and everybody will be fucking and sucking everybody – the people and the animals all together – WOW – won't that be wild?

Isley – I don't know if Africa is quite ready for it yet. But good luck to you and all your furry friends and be sure to drop me a postcard.