Heather and Courtney — The Wrong Alley

Puzzling at my uneven gait down the sidewalk, I looked down at my feet to ponder the problem. After much consideration, I giggled, noting the absence of a shoe on my right foot. “Shoe,” I thought, “now that’s a funny word.” Snorting in an aborted fit of laughter, I swayed unsteadily on my feet before regaining my balance. Squinting against the inexplicably bright glare of the street lights, I turned to look back from where I had come, but the mysteriously lost companion footwear remained elusive. Shrugging, I kicked off my left high heel, watching it tumble into the gutter of the street and down a storm drain. That little fix in place, my walk still had a bit of weaving stride, but was much improved.

“Heather! Wait up!” I called. My sister, several paces ahead of me, did a slow swing-turn around a street sign, using the post for balance until she was facing back towards me. She wobbled unsteadily on her high heels also, but at least she was in possession of both her shoes.

“Shhhhh!” Heather shushed me, bringing her fingers to her lips in an exaggerated motion. “You’re SOOOO… NOISY, Courtney! You’re going to wake… like… like… EVERYONE!” she admonished loudly, gesturing vaguely at the multi-story townhomes that tightly bordered the sidewalk. Chastised, my hands flew to my lips, stifling another giggle. Heather sternly glared at me with disapproval, and then broke into a snorting fit of laugher of her own.

Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you carrying a shoe?” she demanded, placing her hands on her hips in a demanding stance. I looked down at one hand, and then the other. Sure enough, my right high heel dangled in my fingers. Why was I carrying one shoe? That seemed silly. After several off-balanced and unsuccessful attempts, I managed to slip it onto my foot. Stumbling on down the sidewalk at an uneven gait, I wondered what had happened to the left shoe. “Shoe” was a funny word by the way, I realized with a giggle, thinking that notion seemed vaguely familiar…



Admittedly, my recall of the evening up to this point was a bit muddled. I do know that it was my — our– mine — whatever — eighteenth birthday, so my twin sister and I had decided to celebrate by sneaking into ‘Vixens’ — THE happening local club. We were both blonde and cute, and did I mention, twins, so the doorman didn’t eyeball our IDs too closely. Short mini skirts and plenty of cleavage and bare midriff on display probably didn’t hurt our case either.

Once inside, Heather almost immediately ran into a group of her girl friends. We joined them and before long we were all laughing and dancing together, grinding against each other, doing that that fake bisexual act we girls put on to drive the boys crazy. From the crowd we were drawing, it seemed to be working.

After a while, I attracted the attention of this really cute guy… Bill? Billy? …Billy-Billy-Billy, Billy Balloo… No, wait… Jack, I think it was. Anyway, some name that started with an ‘M’… Tim! Yeah, that was it. Anyway, so Jim had brought me a drink. One of those with an umbrella in it, so I figured he was a classy guy. We sat down at a table to talk, but the music at the club was seriously loud, so I never really could hear what he was saying. He seemed to understand me just fine though, because he would laugh, and nod, and smile at everything I said, so I knew he really liked me. I got about halfway through my drink and told Tim that I was going to the bathroom. “You… You stay put!” I admonished him with a stern wag of my finger. He raised two fingers in a scout’s honor swear, and then crossed his heart. I giggled and gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. I got up and headed off to find the ladies room, starting to feel a bit woozy and unsteady on my feet. But told myself that maybe that’s just what falling in love feels like.

I finished up in the bathroom and made my way back to the table. Giddy and dizzy with excitement, I was thinking that it might be time for Jim to take me back to his place… you know… to “properly celebrate” my birthday. This was my first time in a club, and I had never gone back to a guy’s place before, but there was an undeniable itch in my little panties that was telling me tonight might be the night. But when I got back to the table, Tim… Jim… Jack… whatever his name was… was gone.

Heather found me at the table, looking sad and confused. She pointed at the half-full umbrella drink with a cocked eyebrow. I waved it away, so my sister finished it off for me in a couple of quick gulps. Still perplexed at Jack’s sudden disappearance, I continued to anxiously scan the crowd to see if I could spot him. Gradually, the room started to take on an awkward sideways tilt, and slowly began to spin in time with the pulsating music. Feeling disoriented, I knew I needed some fresh air. I got up and made an erratic path towards the exit as my knees went all wobbly. Heather was quickly by my side, providing a supporting shoulder. “Courtney, I think you’ve been roofied,” she observed in a concerned voice.

“Roo… Roofie!” I slurred in response, the sound of the word appealing to my diminished thinking capacity. It sounded like a dog noise. “Roofie! Roofie!” I barked at her, grinning at my razor-sharp wit. “RRRRRR… ROOOOFFFFIE!!!!” Several people in the club shot us odd looks as we stumbled past.

Heather groaned as I let more of my weight lean onto her shoulder. Straining, she managed to get me to the exit just as her own legs seemed to go all rubbery. She dropped me on the sidewalk in an unladylike pile and plopped down beside me, fanning herself with her hand. “What was in that drink?” she exclaimed, her eyes glazing over and going slightly out of focus.

“I… I think… it was like a… a MAGIC drink!” I asserted with a stammer, reaching out with an unsteady finger to gently poke the end of her nose. She crossed her eyes at the touch and I shrieked with a fit of laughter.

Our apartment lay only like six blocks from here, in something like this… no, wait, probably that direction, I was mostly sure. A short walk should get us home, so my sister and I decided that we should call it a night. Heather got to her feet and seemed to find renewed energy, skipping ahead of me, humming a painfully off-key version of a pop song we had heard at the club. Awkwardly struggling back onto my feet, I stumbled, tripping over my high heels. I picked up the right shoe that fell off in the process, and then hurried after my sister, veering off in a slightly sideways angle, before getting my bearings and setting forth at an uneven gait…

And to my best recollection, that’s how we found ourselves on the sidewalk late this evening, me pondering the Bermuda Triangle-like disappearance of my shoe, and my twin sister Heather swinging herself in slow circles around the post of a No Parking sign, butchering pop diva song lyrics. It seemed a rather premature and ignominious end to our eighteenth birthday celebration…

A somber whine intruded into my deep thoughts regarding the elusive tendencies of high-heeled footwear. I looked around, taking a half-step back to steady myself as my perception of the world continued its disorienting, counter-clockwise rotation.

The whine repeated and I zeroed in on the source. Near the opening of an alley sat a large brown dog. It was one of those Doder… no, Bobber… Booberman… Dobermans! That was it! “Roofie!” I barked back with a giggle. He tilted his head sideways, favoring me with a curious glance. He lifted his left front paw and whimpered, displaying sad puppy-dog eyes.

“Awwww… are you hurt, boy?” Heather inquired. My heart too was melting in pity for the poor pup, and I felt bad for having barked at him. In response, the doggy turned and slowly began to limp away down the darkened alley. He paused, turning back to give us a pleading look over his shoulder, and issued another pitiful whine. With an even more pronounced limp, he disappeared into the gloom.

We couldn’t just leave him like that! Maybe if he had a cut on his paw and I could bandage it or something. “Wait! Come back!” I called, unsteadily stumbling down the alley in pursuit. Heather shushed me again, giggled, and staggered along after me.

We made my way unsteadily past several dumpsters and a stack of empty pallets. Rustling noises came from the cluttered shadows. I glanced around nervously, beginning to second-guess the wisdom of our canine rescue detour. But I could see no source of the noise, so I pressed on. The alley turned to the right, opening up into a small courtyard. A single dim bulb in a lamp above a doorway provided limited illumination. There sat the Doberman, tail thumping on the ground in greeting.

I approached the large dog, squatting down in front of him and talking softly to keep him calm. “Poor boy, are you hurt? Come on, let me see that leg of yours.” The Doberman obediently lifted his right paw, placing it in my hand.

“H… Hey!…” Heather slurred. “Wasn’t he limping on the other paw earlier?”

I couldn’t help but think she was correct. Suddenly there were more rustling sounds behind us. I stood and turned to see three more canine shapes drift into view from the shadows. I was frightened for a moment, realizing they were blocking off our only escape back down the narrow alleyway. But they acted polite enough, with no growling, and only wagging of tails in greeting.

The closed in around us, a German Shepherd cautiously sniffing my extended hand in a friendly gesture. Heather scratched behind the ears of a black and white colored Husky who wagged his tail eagerly. A light tan Pit Bull circled around me, sniffing cautiously. Suddenly my sister gave a startled squeak of surprise. She swiped behind her with her hand and the Doberman flinched back in retreat, pulling his inquisitive snout out from under Heather’s short mini skirt. He moved nimbly, his painful looking limp apparently having miraculously cured itself.

I stifled an indignant shriek of my own as I felt the wet snout of a Pit Bull prod its way between my thighs, his slobbering wet tongue exploring the cottony crotch of my thong panties. I pressed my legs together and shoved him away. “Naughty doggy!” I chided, my hands on my hips to show my displeasure. He briefly lowered his tail as a gesture of apology, and then set it to wagging again, a mischievous grin seeming to cross his jowls. I squealed once more, rising up on my toes in an attempt to escape the cold, burrowing snout of the German Shepherd, pressed up deep into the crack of my butt from behind.

“No, no… NO!” Heather protested. She was struggling with the Husky, who had his head buried under the front of her skirt. She squirmed and cursed under her breath, finally managing to pull herself away from the lewd and determined canine. As the animal withdrew, Heather’s hips rocked, tugged forward by her panties locked in the Husky’s clenched jaws. She made a motion to swat the lecherous beast and it released its grip. The crotch of Heather’s panties elastically snapped back into place with an audible ‘pop’. The large dog licked its chops in appreciation, gazing up at Heather with its characteristically bluish Husky eyes.

Giggling, Heather tried to circle away from the Husky and the Doberman, but they herded her expertly against a wall, each looking for a new opportunity to get their furry snouts back at the feminine goodies barely hidden under her very short skirt. The German Shepherd meanwhile was back at me from behind, wriggling his way under the hem of my mini skirt, snagging the string of my thong panties with his teeth. He pulled back, his front paws lowered in a playful stance, whipping his head back and forth. I could hear the delicate stitches in the material begin to pop under the strain. The crotch of my panties was yanked tightly into loins, splitting my pussy lips around the bunched up material in a most embarrassing camel toe. There was a ‘snap’, and the back string of my thong broke under the tension. The severed strand slipped from the dog’s teeth to dangle loosely underneath my skirt.

The situation was obviously getting out of hand, so Heather and I tried to force our way through the gang of dogs to make our escape. But our efforts were thwarted as four sets of canine jaws latched onto our mini skirts, relentlessly yanking at the material and pulling us deeper into the alley. I shrieked in protest but this only seemed to drive the pack into a more exited frenzy.

“I… I think they smell our panties!” Heather exclaimed with a gasp, wide-eyed and struggling against the rude advances of the Husky and the Doberman.

“Maybe if we let them have them, they’ll leave us alone!” I replied with a hint of panic, fighting back against the relentless probing efforts of the German Shepherd and the Pit Bull.

My twin sister nodded in agreement. Heather had been grinding herself against a bunch of her pretty girlfriends on the nightclub dance floor, and I had been dancing with my supposed dream guy. It was no surprise that both of our panties might be a bit moist and wafting forth an alluring female perfume to the canine senses. Well, ok, maybe the term “sweltering swamp” might be a better de***********ion for what was going on down there between my legs. But regardless, if we could peel off our sticky little panties, and offer them as a distraction to the pack of dogs, we could probably make our escape from the alley.

I reached up underneath my skirt with both hands, hooking my thumbs into the elastic band of my ripped thong panties. Wriggling my hips, I tugged my tiny underwear downward, feeling the sticky crotch peel itself wetly from my glistening pussy lips. The two dogs tugging at my skirt relented in their efforts, peeking underneath the hem to watch with keen interest as syrupy strands of moisture pulled taunt between my vaginal mound and the retreating crotch of my panties. The Pit Bull licked his lips, gazing at me with a predatory look. I bent over to pull my panties lower, twitching in surprise as the cold, wet snout of the German Shepherd prodded its way into the exposed crack of my ass. I could feel his hot breath wash across the tight little pucker of my anus and I clenched my rump cheeks tightly together in defense. My panties dropped, tangling up around my ankles, almost tripping me. Regaining my balance and kicking off my remaining shoe in frustration, I finally succeeded in pulling my sticky underwear free in the process.

“Come on guys! Here you go!” I teased, waving my torn pink panties in the air. The scent of wet cunt was unmistakable, steaming from the cottony crotch and hanging heavy in the still air of the alley. The Pit Bull and the German Shepherd pranced around me, eager for the tantalizing treat. I tossed the sodden garment several feet away, sending the Pit Bull on a mad dash in pursuit. He snagged the sticky morsel while still in the air and flopped down on the ground to eagerly press his muzzle into the soaked panty crotch. The German Shepherd whined with envy as he cautiously approached. The Pit Bull hunkered down selfishly over his juicy catch, growling a warning which halted the Shepherd’s advance.

Heather also started to strip off her panties.