commanded as she entered her bedroom. But Atilla didn't heed her orders, padding in right after her and once more sitting on his haunches.
Lisa stared at the German shepherd, her hands trembling while she poured herself another glass of wine. 'Go on, she commanded him harshly. 'Get out of my bedroom!'
The dog thumped its tail against the carpet and refused to budge.
'Ohhhhh, what am I going to do with you?' Lisa wailed in exasperation. 'You're far too big for me to throw out! I suppose if you insist on staying with me, you will.'
She eyed Atilla critically, and inadvertently her eyes roamed down over his sleek coat to his lower belly. A spastic shiver rippled through her against her will, both thrilling and terrifying her at the same time, for, with the dog facing her, she was able to see all of his large, protruding genitals. Atilla's cock! She gaped with mortification at the sight of his glistening crimson length emerging from its long furry sheath, wet and thick, the dripping, tapered end jiggling slightly as it slipped up along his belly from the protective sleeve in an ever-growing erection.
God! The dog-penis was as big or bigger than Ralph's had been! She moaned to herself in anguish. But why was it getting hard now? Dear God, it was almost… almost as if Atilla was anticipating her undressing before him, and it was exciting him! The tiny suggestion of bestial lust flickered lewdly through her mind, making her recoil with a mixture of aching torment and fevered embarrassment, and needfully she drained her wine glass, only to refill it again with shaking hands. She was so ashamed at the way her mind was working! The very notion of a dog becoming sexually aroused like a man was ludicrous! What in God's name was she allowing herself to think?
She had to fight it! She had to fight her own imaginings the same way she'd always conquered her lewd impulses — by proving to herself that she was stronger than they! Firmly resolved to overcome her salacious ideas, Lisa turned her back to Atilla and took a number of deep, ragged breaths to calm her ragged emotions. But in spite of her determination, she could almost feel the animal's beady gaze on her flesh, mentally undressing her like some degenerate voyeur. Ohhh, this was terrible! She should never have taken Atilla home with her! But it was too late now… and reminding herself once again that he was a dog, just a dog and not a strange man, the teacher began unzipping her woolen dress with hurried, quick motions.
Once undone, she shrugged the material off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She stepped out of the dress, forcing herself to act supremely unconcerned that she was being watched, but to her chagrin, she found herself turning to see if the dog was enjoying her performance.
Horrifyingly, she realized that Atilla's scarlet penis was harder and thicker than ever! His tapered dog-cock seemed to give another sharp jerk when she bent over to retrieve her dress and place it on the chair next to the bureau. The full rounded moons of her buttocks came into tantalizing view, and she knew the beast could see the completely unimpeded sight of her nylon panties between her firm, trembling thighs. And when she straightened up again, her panties slipped teasingly into the stretched crevice of her buttocks and remained bunched there! Dear God, this was almost more embarrassing than if she were strip-teasing at a stag smoker! She had to get control of herself!
The panting dog continued to watch the blonde woman more intensely than ever as she rolled each leg of her panty hose down, arching her legs while she pulled the thin veneer free of her well-formed legs. He licked his chops and whined knowingly, causing Lisa to shiver with renewed shame when she unclasped her thin white brassiere. Her large firm breasts swung into heady, exposure, their ripe pink nipples perking out from the tip of the white globes like cherries on vanilla ice cream scoops. Atilla was wagging his tail furiously now, his elongated penis jerking in painful erection against his lower belly. Lisa gritted her teeth together, squeezing her eyes closed in her determination not to be undone by her own obscene imaginings. A dog couldn't become excited by seeing her this way! It just couldn't…!
The rounded, hair-lined lips of her fleshy cunt came into teasing view now as she cast off her panties and stood stark naked in her bedroom, between the dog and the bureau. Quivering uncontrollably, she swiveled around to look at herself in the bureau mirror, seeing the dog's beady eyes gazing at her in the mirror's reflection. She realized that he was watching her just as he'd watched young Marge Spanner, both she and the teenaged girl equally nude and unadorned before him. Miserably she thought: There's no difference between us from the dog's point of view…
She raised her arms over her head in a classic nude pose, stretching her breasts taut and uplifting her nipples puckishly. She could see in the mirror the flat plane of her stomach, unmarred by age or birthmarks, and the honeycolored curls of her pubic hair. The soft fleeciness around her vagina highlighted the rosy lips underneath, and she imagined she could see the tiny tip of her clitoris peeking out from the crested valley of her loins in almost childlike shyness.
Yet, she added mournfully as she lowered her arms, there is a difference between Marge and myself… a vast difference which Atilla could never understand, but I do all too well…
Marge Spanner, in spite of her tender years and immaturity, already knew what sex was really about. Lisa could not believe that a fifteen year old girl who'd allow a German shepherd to lick her to climax would not be experienced with the carnal embraces of older boys. Marge was not a virgin, and obviously enjoyed that condition… enjoyed it so much that her explosive passions had actually stimulated Lisa against her will! Was sex truly enough to change a decent woman into a mass of seething, abandoned flesh? Was it really the animalistic thing she'd witnessed in the locker room? She had never experienced anything that strong — as intense as the girl with the dog — nor had she ever before been worked up to the peak which just watching it had caused her. What would it be like if she could let herself go like Marge had done? The thought raced through Lisa's mind — what would it be like?
Lord, how she must have felt! The tormented teacher groaned inwardly. And I'm twice Marge's age, and never felt that way!
Hands shaking as if with palsy, Lisa clutched the wine bottle and poured another full glass of the Chablis. She downed the tart liquid urgently, attempting to cool some of the warmth the girl's passion had transmitted unwittingly to her own body. Gasping for breath, she staggered slightly, and missed placing the glass on the bureau. Instead it fell from her fingers and crashed to the floor. The carpet saved it from breaking, but the last of the wine spilled against Lisa's bare toes, and the glass itself rolled gingerly underneath the bureau.
'Damn!' Lisa cursed furiously. 'Oh damn, look what I've done now!'
Being a good housekeeper, Lisa automatically bent over to retrieve the glass. Without contemplating what she was doing, she got down on her knees and poked her hand underneath the bureau, still swearing at herself for being such a clumsy fool.
Then, without warning, there came a growling bark from the German shepherd. With a single bound, it was up from where it was sitting and between Lisa's unconsciously spread legs.
The terrified woman squeaked a tight choked exclamation of fear, and brought her hand up to her mouth. Her eyes were wide with fright, and she started to roll away from the large, hairy dog, but Atilla growled again, warning her to stay frozen where she was. And she did, her splayed thighs completely exposed and her knees bent outward, leaving the whole of her upturned vaginal crevice open and defenseless. There was nothing else to do, and she trembled while the huge beast growled menacingly, his fleshy lips pulled back over long ivory fangs.
'No, Atilla!' she mewled. 'Go back, please go back!'
But Atilla ignored her, advancing on his paws and sniffing the air around Lisa's nakedly waving buttocks. He sniffed some more, moving his head around as if curious about this new woman and her piquant feminine smells. He stepped still closer to her fear-clenching loins, and lowered his head to the soft, fragrant slit between her buttocks, still sniffing with increased interest. The kneeling woman's position was one with which he was well acquainted, and his tail wagged happily as if he had discovered a new bitch-dog in flaming heat.
'Don't Atilla! Don't! I… I'm not Marge!' the naked woman exclaimed feverishly, but the dog wasn't interested in her spoken commands. There were other, more instinctive and natural commands which he wished to obey first! Marge's babbling excuses: Atilla wanted to rape me… He forced me to do it… reeled through Lisa's drunken mind. God, the girl had been lying in that particular instance, but was what she said true anyway? And then Lisa moaned as the dog's cold black nose abruptly pressed against her tiny, puckered anus. She tensed in abject mortification as its tongue snaked out and locked tentatively against the deep crevice around it, its tip burrowing slightly into her fleshy anal ring.
'Arg!' she gasped uncontrollably. 'Oh! Ah! No!'
Despite her burgeoning terror, Lisa was so filled with shame and loathing for what she'd unthinkingly caused, that she once more tried to squirm free. But Atilla was having none of that, and barked insistently, snapping its
