Copyright 2005 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.
Please note: the twelve parts of this story depict sex between males, between minors and between adults and minors. They depict oral, anal and vaginal sex as well as incest, rape, sadomasochism and transvestitism. If any of these offend you or are illegal to publish in your jurisdiction, or you are under the age of 18, read no further.
All names, characters, locations and incidents in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
As an author, I welcome feedback on my writing. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.
Spring, Year Two
One time the Johnsons called me and asked if I could do them a favor. Of course, Keith was listening in on the extension. He always monitored my phone calls. Mrs. Johnson's aunt had died and they had to go out of state for a few days for the funeral. They wanted to hire me to watch their house, mow their lawn, water their plants, and take care of their dog while they were gone. When they said what they'd pay me, Keith gave me the thumbs up sign. Needless to say, he would claim the money for my work. So I agreed and went over to their house to learn the ropes. For a couple days it was a relief to get out of my own home and taste a bit of freedom.
Keith came with me one afternoon and watched me do my work. As I filled the watering pitcher in the kitchen sink, he said "This dog wants to go out."
"Well, don't open the door."
"Why the fuck not.?"
"She's in heat. If she got loose every dog in the neighborhood would be after her."
"No shit!" Keith was silent a long time. I could see the gears turning in his mind.
When we were about to leave, he grabbed a dish towel from the Johnsons' kitchen drawer. "Here," he said, "take this and wipe the bitch's rear end."
"Why?" Keith gave me a glare. I should have known better than to question orders. So I did what he said, and he took the towel home. In the house, Spike's nose immediately caught the whiff of something exciting. Keith told me to take off all my clothes and go out on the patio. It was a cold March day, but of course I obeyed. He had me kneel and lay my chest on the picnic bench. Then he wiped my ass with the dish towel. He then let Spike out and the dog lost no time in tracking the source of that delicious aroma. He sniffed my asshole, and immediately mounted me. Keith told me to take my hands and pull my cheeks apart to help him get ass-cess. Sure enough, soon Spike's cock was rammed into my shit tunnel and it knotted there. Now I was a literal bitch. Keith, Big George, Dad, two college boys, and now even Spike had all used my asshole for their own gratification. I closed my eyes and let the dog go to town. He pumped away at my ass, and eventually I felt my bowels fill with warm canine jizz. Only then did his knot soften. He pulled out, trotted over to the corner of the yard and began licking his dick. I swear I thought the dog was sporting a big smile on his face.
Keith too was smiling. He felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment. After that day, about once a week, Keith would let Spike use his bitch. After that first dog rape, he didn't need to use the Johnsons' towel. For Spike, my own natural smelly ass was enticement enough.
Once, Keith instructed me to give Spike a blow job. Shit, that wasn't easy. I guess dogs don't do that kind of thing. I laid on the kitchen floor with Spike and held him with one hand while I took his dogcock in my other. But Spike kept squirming around. Keith came over and gently petted the dog. "It's OK, big boy. Let the bitch do this. You'll enjoy it. Trust me, it's gonna feel good." Spike settled down a little, but his big eyes still showed he was confused. I began to gently stroke his dogcock, while Keith continued petting him. Then I got my mouth in position, wrapped my lips around his organ, and began to suck hard. Spike soon caught on. This face was yet another bitch hole. He wiggled out of Keith's hands and got on his four feet but kept his cock in place in my mouth. My face was covered in dog belly. My tongue soon felt his cock knot. Of course, unlike my asshole, I could have released his cock, knot or no knot, but I didn't. I kept sucking and sure enough, I was soon rewarded with a throat full of dog jizz.
Keith was ecstatic. Too bad he couldn't give Spike a big high five like that summer when he had congratulated Tommy, the great wunderkind, mature beyond his years. Now he had taught Spike also how to get a blow job. He rolled around on the kitchen floor with Spike and told him what a great dog he was.
Spike got the idea. He was a fast learner. After that, all I had to do was lay on the floor with my mouth open, and Spike would come over plant his hind legs on either side of my head and start fucking my face. There seemed to be no end to that dog's jizz. A half hour after getting his nuts off in either my mouth or my ass, he'd be ready for another round. Now Keith had a new show to put on for his friends: The Spike and Francine show.
Throughout the year, as soon as I came home from school, Francis became Francine. I took out the pony tail I wore and let my blond tresses fall over my ears. I got out of my boy clothes, put on my makeup and got into something from my ever-expanding girl wardrobe. I loved my new persona. It felt so right. I wished I somehow could have made the change at school also, but I didn't. At the end of my junior year, I was still that weird boy with the hunky stud for a kid brother. A lot of the kids, both boys and girls, now knew about my crossdressing because they had seen it at our house or in our car. The teachers, as well as other kids who didn't know us that well, just figured I was a faggot. There were a few girls who never caught on that the sister who drove Keith around was the same as the boy in school.
Mr. Arnoldson, the PE teacher, didn't need to see me in a dress to know what I was good for. He called me into his office one day and asked if I thought I was going to pass gym this year. I had barely squeaked by up to now, but the curriculum was getting harder and harder for me. I couldn't climb the ropes. I didn't like volley ball because I broke my nails. I stunk at basketball and most, ^Ö no all ^Ö other games. So when he asked the question, I shook my head. "Well, if you'd like to pass, we might be able to work out an arrangement. You might have to show me you've got skills that don't come out on the gym floor." I knew what he meant, and he was glad I caught on so quickly. It saved him the trouble of thinking up further lines.
I dropped to my knees and opened my mouth. Arnoldson opened his zipper and took out an olympic sized baton. I looked up at this god of athleticism and said softly, "Please, Sir, let me suck your cock." He obliged, of course. I began by licking his helmet and piss slit, then working my tongue down his shaft to his balls, which were probably the largest I had sucked on up to that date. My left eye was half an inch from his cockhead now and I could see it glistening in precum. My mouth returned to it and welcomed it inside. I wrapped my tongue around his shaft and begun sucking in earnest. His hands held my head like a dodgeball. He asked me quietly if I swallowed. I nodded yes and with that he showered my parched throat in delicious mancum.
After zipping up, Arnoldson wrote out a late pass to give my next teacher. We made it a regular weekly blow job, and by the end of the term, he was going up my ass as well. I passed gym.
One day in June, Mom got a call from Mrs. Miller. They had bought a vacation home and wouldn't be going to the lake any more. She lied that Charlotte, Amy and Benjamin would miss their playmates. Keith and I guessed that probably the Millers considered us and Birnhoff kids a bad influence and that was why they bought their own place.