The Journey_(5)

Honi (pronounced like ‘honey’) rocked on her wide spread knees, her shoulders pressed against the base of a reinforced icy cold transparent glass revolving dais. The pose flattened her normally perky breasts against the glass. Subtle, muted light shone up through the transparent surface, emphasizing her soft pale, perspiring skin. Her dusty blond hair, that normally reached half way down her back, cascaded out semi-matted and damp, as it spread out over her shoulders, back and onto the glass she crouched on.

Her head was bent, with her right cheek resting on the cool glass, and her torso was arched towards but just above the polished transparent surface. An intricately woven ivory and gold leather corset began just under the slopes of her flattened breasts, gracing her rib cage and shallow belly, and ending just before the soft globes of her high lifted ass. The width between her spread knees was almost unnaturally wide.

From her vantage point on the slowly revolving dais, she could see the blurred ring of pale faces of the people staring both at her and the ten inch penis that jack-hammered into her. Suddenly, the large lump two thirds of the way down the fast moving shaft completely disappeared inward, past her stretched labia. She began thrusting back, shamelessly lifting herself onto the rigid cock. The frantic tempo of fucking slowed, accompanied with what sounded like an embarrassing succession of soggy farts.

Honi felt the knot sliding fast inside her, quickly swelling and hardening until it was the size of her fist, until it felt like a wooden sphere. It became iron hard. Both she and the dog fucking her stopped thrusting simultaneously. From deep inside her lover’s balls, cum began to spurt!. It spurted in a perfectly timed rhythm, making it hard for her to think of anything except her own need to orgasm!

It dawned on the anonymous faces watching her that she was reaching her climax, her eyes rolling upward in their sockets. Sexual pleasure flooded her senses, in the same way the large black and tan dog was flooding her womb with his seed. She shuddered uninhibitedly, every fiber reacting with sexual ecstasy and panting like a bitch in heat. She whined with pleasure and began squealing, “Yes! Oh Godddddddddddddd!!!!” Her meadow green eyes continued to roll back only the whites showed as the thrill filled every fiber of her being. She was oblivious to everything but her own pleasure.

Someone in the audience whispered in awe, “Look, look, look, she’s cumming!”

Turbo stood rampant above her. His shiny black leather-clad fore-paws pressed into her shoulder blades. His back legs pushed straight down, with his similarly clad rear paws sliding slightly on the glass until they could finally find purchase. His massive penis was now completely buried inside Honi’s cunt.

He stood motionless, the massive knot grotesquely swelling the opening of Honi’s normally tiny sex. He drooled slightly as he stretched his muscled neck forward, the subtle light shining on his matching black collar and shiny black coat. Beneath his stubby tail, his balls pulsed and his anus opened and closed in time with the semen spurting into the bitch beneath him. The massive dog, oblivious to his surroundings, was intent on only one thing – breeding with his bitch. He lacked Honi’s normal decorum. Let’s face it – if a dog finds a receptive bitch in heat, the coupling is instantaneous, irrespective of place or time or audience.

After remaining apparently idle for ten minutes, the big black and tan dog began making an almost reverse thrust, seemingly uncaring as he tried to rip his softening knot from his bitch’s flooded, sloppy cunt. Honi’s left hand shot back and instinctively gripped. It grasped the two tiny vein-like bones behind Turbo’s knot, as he slowly dragged her backwards. Her fingers expertly manipulated him, teasing him, while her flooded cunt began to expel air and semen with another series of lewd pussy farts.

The slightly inkish scent of dog semen filled the air as seed began to drip. An elegantly clad woman in the audience gave a soft moan. Her hand had been flaying the erect penis of the man beside her, which now erupted, spurting a copious stream of cum, splashing the bodice of her charcoal silk D&G evening gown, and up onto her face and elegant coiffure. She blushed profusely, as her partner, sitting on the opposite side of the man who’d received that hand job, finally tore his eyes off Honi and Turbo and looked at his disheveled fiancée.

Other expensively dressed couples seemed to be oblivious to everything except the beautiful blonde on the revolving dais and her huge stud, although many also indulged blindly in furtive or blatant mutual masturbation.

An emerald-eyed, freckled and copper haired girl, looking all of fifteen, gently rose and dipped on her elderly date’s lap. Her crumpled stockings were pooled elegantly on the cool marble floor, alongside her discarded Christian Louboutin red-soled 3″ stilettos. Her expensive Zac Posen off-shoulder strapless pale-pink evening gown had been hastily pulled up around her midriff, the peach fuzz now visible between her thighs slick with his semen.

The muted lights of the chandeliers began to brighten as Turbo disengaged from Honi with a soggy plop. Instantly he backed off, arching his back as if apologizing for his softening penis. Still appearing almost contrite, he bent his head and began to lick himself until his penis disappeared back into its sheath. He then returned to Honi, who had shakily managed to pull her knees together and was attempting to rise. She stood, wobbling, widening her stance, as he began to lap at her gaping fuckhole like the gentleman he was.

There were whispers and genuine applause and awe for Honi. From a seat of honor, the evening’s beautiful Hostess rose and stood beside her. A liveried servant clipped a sturdy leather leash to the Rottweiler’s matching collar once he’d finished licking his bitch, and led the sated dog away, his stubby tail still wagging.

There was no need for the beautiful hostess to raise her voice. Her guests were in awe of the beauty and elegance of the dinner parties to which they were privileged to be invited. Her voice, a pleasant contralto, rose above the soft hubbub. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Honi has indicated to me that she is willing to be examined, handled and questioned. I, on the other hand, request the questions dignify the display with which Honi has graced us, and would like you to ask her permission before you touch her.”

Honi rolled her head on her shoulders, as her orgasm subsided. Her heart, temple and gaping vagina still throbbed in harmony with pulsations of her blood. Her blond hair flared like a dusty halo. Her perspiration began to cool as it evaporated, and semen slid in rivulets down her inner thighs.

At this, the audience regained some modicum of their composure, patting themselves back into and smoothing their garments as much as possible.

The small red-head scooted off her partner’s lap with a squelch. She smoothed her skirt down over her colt-like legs, trying to achieve some semblance of decorum. Breathless and barefoot, she was the first to reach Honi. Her hands were small, and her fingernails were manicured cuticle short but matched the exact shade of her expensive evening gown. “Hi, that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen!” she gushed as she reached Honi. “My name is Chloe, and I want to do that with a dog too. Can you teach me?” She continued without taking a breath. “Tell me how you started! You look so experienced! I’m ever so envious!”

How did it begin? Mind still reeling a little from that earth-shattering orgasm, Honi thought back several years.

She was a child of very unconventional parents who never seemed to have grown up, and followed one fad after another. For example, her sister, Ariel, had been born at a drive-in movie theater as ‘The Mermaid’ was being shown. Honi often wondered what her name would’ve been if she had been born during an earthquake, or natural disaster, rather than in a meadow on a warm spring morning during a bee keeping festival!

She’d recently completed her residency and two years at a large suburban animal clinic, vying to assist the partners when it came to more serious animal medicine. Or to continue her Master’s thesis on animal reproduction. But she spent most of her working day doing mundane procedures like clipping claws and evading the wandering hands of most of her male co-workers.

She felt like a square peg in a round hole there, and longed for a smaller practice. Maybe a small practice of her own. Of course, her money was short. She still owed the State thousands in student loans.

On a whim, she answered an advert for a Veterinary Locum she discovered while reading a two month old edition of the ‘Veterinary Medicine’ journal. The position was for three to six months at a privately owned and funded veterinary hospital, while the only and elderly Vet – a Dr. Richards – took a sabbatical. She faxed her resume and completed a very personal questionnaire as part of her application to the practice and had received a prompt reply. The interview was short, and its questions were bland, and not very complicated. She was told she could expect an answer soon.

The next morning, practically at dawn, her phone rang. A voice barked, “This is Dr. Richards. How soon can you be here?” She left the same day.

She soon proved to Dr. Richards and the rest of the elderly doctor’s staff, that she had skills and a great rapport with animals. During the week of her trial period, cat’s seldom hissed, dogs almost never snarled or growled, and the pets’ owners sensed her dedication and love of all animals, from goldfish to golden retrievers.

The following Monday, Dr. Richards shook her hand, telling her, “I’ll be back someday. Don’t worry. Enjoy yourself.” He was a man of few words, and most of them were blunt.

After another week, Honi felt at home and confidant. She’d clipped nails and claws, set bones, pulled teeth and even pulled a plastic toy soldier from the intestine of a much beloved and spoiled family puppy. All in all, she knew she was making a difference.

She had just trimmed the claws of a Cockatoo when the phone rang. “Dr. Honi, can you take a call from the Practice’s benefactor?”

Of course she could. When the call was transferred, she smiled into the receiver as she said, “Hi.