Dog Day Afternoon, Chapters 1-5 free porn video

Dog-Day Afternoon By Beverly Taff CHAPTER 1 I must confess that I'd always felt I was a woman locked up in a man's body. I know this usually sounds tedious to those who have made the transition. The expression has become a trite simplification used by the media to describe what is really a desperately difficult rite of passage. Every one of those brave individuals, who starts the journey and finally makes it through the dark days of transition, has their own story of despair and desperation. How they discovered in early childhood, that 'things weren't right'. It usually hits them as soon as they are aware of the two different sexes; how society treats them differently and expects different things of them. It hit me very early, probably as soon as I realised I was dressed differently from my sisters and I had to sleep in a different bedroom. It didn't help when I discovered that everything expected of me was different from what was expected of my sisters. I won't go into it all here. There's not enough time and everybody who's been there knows what those expectations are. By the time I was twelve things had reached breaking point. Several suicide attempts and numerous appearances before the juvenile courts, had finally precipitated me into a 'big-city' children's psychiatric unit. There in a final act of terminal desperation, I had tried to castrate myself in some forlorn hope of preventing the onset of puberty and my acquiring those male characteristics I so detested. The castration was only partly successful. Being a coward at heart, I had used a dangerous slow strangulation of my testicles technique that had almost caused gangrene and nearly killed me. I lost one testicle but the doctors managed to 'save' the other. It was only then that I was finally forced revealed my innermost secret wish to become a proper girl in a proper girl's body. The psychiatrist had already anticipated my condition but he had waited until my crazy desperate act had driven me to declare it for myself. He told me that my actions were sufficient proof enough to demonstrate that I was what I said I was, a true transsexual. As we chatted at length he finally declared that he might be able to do something for me. For a few brief minutes I was on cloud nine. Then after he had raised my hopes, he brought me crashing down to Earth again. I would have to wait until I was sixteen. After delivering the first sympathetic words I had ever heard, he then twisted the metaphorical knife in my guts. He said that very little could be done because there were not enough funds available for the psychiatric unit to treat me as I wished to be treated. He also confirmed that my parent's family medical insurance sure as hell wouldn't pay for the treatment. The cost of the surgery would be prohibitive. Until I was sixteen and legally competent to declare my wishes before the courts nothing could be done for me. I would also be expected to find my own funds. I just wanted to die! 'Two more years of torment and desperation!' When my family learned of my transsexualism, they washed their hands of me. They had always considered my effeminacy to be an expression of homosexuality and their inherent homophobia found the hard truth of my transsexualism impossible to accept. This new development put me utterly beyond the pail and they were brutally frank about their feelings. Bluntly, I was told that, because they had four other remaining children to devote their efforts upon, they reckoned that one out of five was a percentage failure that they could accept. My three sisters and my brother were all 'normal' so my parents could afford to 'lose' one. My name was hardly mentioned ever again. I became a 'none-person' as far as my family were concerned. At sixteen I was released from the children's psychiatric unit and advised that I would somehow have to find gainful employment if I wished accumulate the thousands of dollars necessary to pay for all the necessary surgery and treatment. Fortunately the Psychiatric unit had done me one small favour. Because of lack of funds and fear of the law concerning legal consent, the doctors had been forced to avoid the issue of pre-sixteen reassignment surgery. Fortunately those same doctors in acknowledging my transsexualism had seen fit to suspend my puberty by administering 'blocker hormones'. Consequently, I left the children's unit as a sort of androgynous individual of indeterminate sexual appearance. The problem was that I now wanted to take feminization drugs but that took a huge chunk out of what little wages my menial jobs could earn. These menial jobs invariably involved cleaning and serving, usually in nightclubs that catered to the deviant underclass of 'big-city' America. I soon rediscovered that an individual with no high school diploma would not get a worthwhile job anywhere. I had of course known this since God knows when, but to have it thrown in your face as you searched for jobs only made it worse. No reputable firm was prepared to employ somebody with obvious mental health problems and of indeterminate sex! This meant no 'women's' clerical work because women were uncomfortable around sexual deviants. Alternatively 'men's' labouring jobs were denied to me. What good was a skinny little runt with no muscles? Any sort of childcare work was also taboo. No authority would employ a sexually dysphoric misfit around children. I seemed to find myself always standing at the edge of a precipice looking into a lifetime of sexual anguish. All hope of ever saving enough money drifted further out of reach. I was tempted to rob a bank but I couldn't muster the courage. I already knew what horrors prison held if I was caught. For the sexually androgynous, it was like childcare abuse again but in spades! It was inevitable that I should start seeking work in the less reputable areas of the sexual underworld where my transsexualism inevitably drove me. Here at least I found some anonymity and a little bit more sympathy. The money I earned never seemed to quite meet the costs of running my pathetic life. The cost supplying sufficient drugs to combat the detested testosterone was prohibitive. The last damnable vestige of my masculinity continually pumped the hated hormone into my body. I had considered a second attempt at castration but the doctors at the children's unit had warned me that my first attempt had caused serious damage. Their repair work had been little short of a finger in the dyke and they cautioned me that any effort to remove the remaining testicle could result in a fatal haemorrhage. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. The choice seemed to be death or masculinity. Never enough money to pay for surgery or buy sufficient drugs, I was becoming desperate and my life was going down the pan! There was one small ray of hope however. After cleaning bars, serving booze and scrubbing toilets in the most squalid clubs in the twilight zone, a 'girl' eventually picks up some useful stuff. By keeping my ears and eyes open, whilst keeping my mouth and legs shut, I managed to get by. I learned what was available to transsexuals but the knowledge only reinforced what I already knew. I was never going to save enough to get that all-important operation, leastways not in the good old' US of A. Surgeons charged just too dammed much! I knew that the same procedures were available abroad for a lot less money, Thailand and North Africa to name but two places. To this end I kept my head down and decided that the procedure plus the airfare to a foreign country, was just about all I could manage; if I cut a hell of a lot of corners! Re-doubling my efforts. I took extra menial work in the less reputable clubs. Fortunately, one of my jobs involved general cleaning at a bar where transvestites and transsexuals held their weekly get-together. The boss was a tranny and had a lot of sympathy for my plight. He respected me when he learned of my desperate ambition and my determination not to sink into prostitution. In my head I was a respectable girl despite all outward appearances. Recognising my situation, the boss slowly came to trust me as I persevered and scrupulously kept my slate clean. I was honest about the money and kept a close watch on the booze being served across the bar. More importantly, I worked my butt off cleaning the lavatories. The trannies and real girls all confirmed that clean toilets were a huge factor concerning their choice of club. There's nothing a girl hates more than piss stains on the seats and urine-flooded floors whilst the toilet roll lies soaked and useless unraveled on the floor. My boss became impressed as the club takings soared. Eventually he allowed me to kip down in a backroom to save on renting an apartment. It was one of the first breaks I ever got. The pay was poor but as a live-in cleaner, I no longer had to find rent. I also had access to the computer in the boss's office. Before long, as other casual workers left their jobs in the club, I climbed the ladder and became general factotum, full-time barmaid and cleaner. I learned how to surf the web and discovered many places that offered sexual re-assignment surgery. This knowledge, backed up with a slightly improved financial situation, eventually got me started. One afternoon I discovered an advert on the net asking for volunteers in some new experimental techniques involving reassignment surgery. The work was being done abroad, but the advert was Internet wide so I responded. It required transsexual volunteers to undergo new surgical procedures coupled with organ transplants. All the volunteer had to do, was turn up and sign a disclaimer. 'I could only try,' I thought, so I showed my boss the advert and asked his opinion. To my surprise, I learned that my boss had once been a doctor. He had been sacked from the practice because of some legal issues with his transvestism and practicing medicine. It was to do with women's gynaecological stuff and so on. Disillusioned with his partner's insensitivity and lack of support, he had turned his back on medicine for several years. Lately though, since opening his modest little club he had met many sexually dysphoric individuals and he realized he might be able to do things for them. He was an excellent listener and offered sympathetic advice across the bar on many a night. The idea of my undergoing 'experimental treatment' intrigued him but he became seriously concerned for me. "You ought to be careful Beverly" he cautioned, "just remember there's not much legal protection in these foreign countries and if things go wrong; well God knows!" "So," I countered, "It's all that legal stuff that fucked up my chances to grow up as a girl! If those doctors hadn't been so chicken-shit afraid of the law, I would be fixed by now. Look at me! I might as well be dead!" He wagged his head softly and a small tear leaked from his eye. I knew he was sympathetic. `God-dammit!' I thought. `He was one of us anyway.' I knew where his sympathies lay. "You're right Beverly, but I have to warn you of the dangers. I don't want to see you hurt." I knew he was right but I was getting desperate. My boss further suggested that the experiments were probably being conducted abroad to avoid litigation if things went wrong. "It might even be easier to dispose of your body if things go totally wrong. It'll be risky Beverly, and you can bet you'll have no legal protection." His words fell on deaf ears. It seemed that my opportunity to spend the few remaining years of my youth as a functioning girl was disappearing fast as my single testicle continued it's remorseless production of the hated testosterone. With tears of frustration blinding my eyes, I stumbled up to my flat and studied my finances once more. I calculated that I had just enough savings for a return airfare and a brief hotel stay to recuperate; I applied to take part in the trials. E-mail arrived a couple of days later asking to know my circumstances and any evidence of my trans-sexual condition. It was an easy job to reproduce all my medical files and demonstrate that I was a confirmed transsexual. Four years of files from the children's psychiatric unit clinched it and I was accepted for the trials. A few weeks of frantic activity next found me on rout to North Africa. My boss drove me to the airport and wished me luck. "The job's still there for you when you comeback. Just be careful! I'm really worried for you kid. That's all I can say. I want you back." With that reassurance ringing in my ears I boarded the plane and set off for North Africa. Several changes of planes eventually found me on a local internal flight and I finally arrived somewhere a long way south of the Atlas Mountains deep in the Sahara desert. CHAPTER 2 As I stepped down off the plane, the desert heat hit me like a wall and it was only seven a.m. The sun had barely been up more than an hour but the heat!!! I had felt heat in California and Arizona, but nothing like this. Even Death Valley had nothing to compare with this. The final proof, if any was needed was seeing the locals gasping in the heat. We had arrived in the middle of a heat wave and in the Sahara Desert that means HOT! As I paused in shock on the burning tarmac, the cabin staff warned me that by two p.m. it could reach one hundred and forty in the shade, - and there's no shade. Even the short step to the arrival building, (It could never be described as a terminal or hall.) sucked the sweat from my body. I was truly glad to find the transport waiting for me as arranged. It seemed I was the only volunteer to arrive on that flight so after a quick introduction we scrambled into the luxury of the air-conditioned 4x4 and set off for the research station. "Why so remote?" I asked. "Less hassle," replied the doctor. "The government is happy to take our money but doesn't want any hassle. Some of our work is deemed a bit unethical by the powers that be." I fell silent and the doctor sensed my nervousness. "Oh don't worry. You're not in any danger. It's just that some of the basic research is a bit unusual. Nearly all our transplant technology uses animal tissue." "What do you mean exactly by, unethical," I pressed anxiously. "Well. I'm sure you know that legitimate ethical research permits the growing of genetically engineered pig kidneys that are compatible with human tissue and suitable for kidney transplants." "Yee-ss," I replied suspiciously, "but they still haven't got there yet." "Well;" he hesitated a moment before continuing, "We have. After several years of research we have managed to grow hormonal glands and other sexual organs that are compatible with human beings. You know, ovaries and testes and stuff like that. I've even tested some stuff on myself. Nothing big you understand, but the stuff is still alive in my body. We know the tissue is compatible. That's how confident I am." I was getting the jist of the doctor's ideas and followed him closely. "So you want to transplant these glands into human volunteers as guinea-pigs. To offset the need for continually taking drugs for the rest of their lives" I finished for him. "Uuhm, that's right. Ovary transplants and such like. You've been reading up on this stuff I see." I nodded nervously. The idea worried me slightly but it was not entirely repugnant. 'I mean, they were doing it with pig's kidneys and human insulin from sheep's milk weren't they?' The idea of a pig's ovary inside me was not that dissimilar, especially to a tortured transsexual. "So long as I don't end up grunting or something," I joked weakly. "Grunting! What makes you say that?" "Well, you know, the island of Circe and all that. I mean, pig's ovaries and all that." A broad smile spread across the doctor's face as he wagged his head softly. "We won't be using pigs! They take far too long to grow. No, not pigs." I frowned slightly as the doctor continued shaking his head softly. "Well what then? I thought pigs were the nearest metabolism to a human's. What's it going to be then? A monkey or an ape or something." "Oh no, they take too long to grow and they are far too expensive to obtain. Anyway we could not be sure of the source and they might be animals torn from the wild by poachers. We have to use something that is cheap and with a faster growth rate. We intend using a dog's ovaries or rather, I should say a bitch's." "A dog's", I gasped "Er yes," replied the doctor studying my face anxiously, "You're not going to back out of our agreement now are you? A dog is not much different from a pig. It grows much quicker than an ape and the puppy's gestation period is shorter. We can't use pigs around here because many of the laboratory staff object to pigs. They are all Muslim. They will not touch pigs or pork. Dogs are much easier, there's less religious or animal right's hang-ups." "I don't follow you," I replied, "I thought the animal had to be a close metabolic match." "Oh not with our technology. We simply introduce some of your DNA to the puppy embryo before its immune system develops and then your DNA is assimilated into the embryonic puppy's DNA. When the puppy is born its DNA has components identical to yours and your immune systems will accept each other's tissue. You are both fooled into thinking it's your own DNA. We have to use some additional drugs of course but essentially, the puppy's ovaries are accepted into your body and when they mature, they start to produce female hormones. Your body is feminised by the production of natural hormones." "Are dog hormones the same as human hormones?" I asked. "There's not a lot of difference. We've engineered the animals so that their ovaries produce a compatible hormone for both humans and dogs. It's similar work to the insulin in sheep's milk. This is one of our biggest secrets. It is where we hope to make the breakthrough. That's why we need volunteers like you." The doctor smiled supportively and I felt myself coming round to the idea. The thought of having natural ovaries producing natural hormones began to seem attractive, and after all; a dog's DNA was no more offensive to me than a pig's. 'For God's sake,' I thought, 'we kept dogs as pets didn't we?' I nodded my head slowly and the doctor's smile widened. "Good! I knew you'd come around to the idea. Your letters and medical files indicated a desperate inner girl trying to get out of that-, that body." He grimaced as he summed up my androgynous form then he continued. "I firmly believe that you will be able to function totally as a female after the surgery and you will grow to look thoroughly feminine. You're still young so the procedure should be totally effective." "There's no risk then?" I asked again for reassurance. "Well I can't promise a hundred percent. After all, the procedure is still experimental and you are the first. I won't lie to you Beverly. This is an experiment. We've studied all the angles and we will reverse the process if there are serious complications. In truth I am expecting some problems, but not serious ones. I'm not some sort of monster, and if it goes wrong, I will do what I can to correct or reverse any adverse effects. Apart from the unknown risks from the experiment, I see no obvious other dangers; except of course, the usual ones attributable to any invasive procedure. The animals are all laboratory bred and completely disease free. There will be no risk of infection. After a few weeks you'll be able to live and function completely as a female." "Will I grow proper breasts and stuff?" "Yes. Everything. You will be able to live as a complete female. The surgery will see to that." I sagged with relief. Sixteen years of tension seemed to flow from my bones like a dam bursting and I settled down to sleep after the long cramped flight. Eventually I was woken from by the doctor as we arrived at an oasis beneath a rocky ridge. I gaped in wonderment at the abundance of greenery and the doctor explained. "This is the only oasis for four hundred miles. It's an important site and recently improved with new artesian technology. We have expanded a large cave system and excavated a subterranean cistern deep in the hills behind that ridge. The water doesn't evaporate away and we have a constant supply for the hospital and the nomads. They have got clean, regular safe drinking water now. The old well was a brackish unreliable source. We've been traveling down one of the new military roads and made some good speed. The government let us set up operations here provided we doubled up as a remote hospital and clinic for the Bedouin tribes or any of their soldiers if they got injured hereabouts. Those tents over there are one of the Bedouin families and one of their women had complications with childbirth. Both mother and child are OK now. We serve most of their medical needs to quite a sophisticated level. If the Bedouin tribesmen get to us in time we can give them better treatment than many of their bigger hospitals." I smiled at the doctor's evident self-satisfaction. He obviously had some philanthropic ideals and this project allowed him to indulge his research whilst simultaneously helping the underprivileged desert dwellers. I then noticed that dusk was falling and realised I had slept for nearly twelve hours. I was beginning to feel hungry. My stomach rumbled involuntarily and the doctor smiled. "I stopped to eat at noon but you were fast asleep. I let you carry on sleeping. Jet lag, probably. There's a meal waiting for us inside come on." I joined him at a table and he introduced me to the team. I soon realised that most of the team were intelligent sexual dysphorics who saw the project as an oasis of safety in what was by and large, a homophobic Muslim culture. Here, hundreds miles from anywhere, there was little chance of any persecution. The university also managed to hide any sexually dysphoric staff whilst at the same time benefiting from their academic talents and research. 'A pragmatic arrangement, if ever I saw one.' I thought. 'Still if it gave me what I had always wanted, I was not going to object.' After the meal we socialised for a while then I turned in early. The next day we discussed the risks and he reassured me that he could address the problems and complications caused by my partial childhood castration. CHAPTER 3 After a few months, I was ready to receive the implants. The donor puppies where born and the most genetically compatible bitch was selected. I was saddened to think that she was going to grow up with absolutely no sexual function but my needs were greater. The team explained that at least the puppy wouldn't die and she would make a useful guard dog. "Just think of her as a spayed bitch Beverly. Don't anthropomorphise the animal," encouraged the doctor. I nodded my head as the anaesthetic needle went in and that was the last thing I remembered. I woke to find that I had been out for a couple of weeks. The doctor explained that they had kept me thus sedated to avoid any pain and to keep a close eye on all my vital signs. I had to admit that I now felt little pain. There was a slight irritation in my groin and I was desperate to examine my new anatomy. The team helped me off my bed and set me up for my first conscious gynaecological examination. I was nervous but the doctor assured me that they had been examining me twice a day whilst I was unconscious to ensure the implants were OK. "Everything has taken successfully Beverly. As the puppy implants grow to maturity the hormones and stuff will take effect. In nine months you will be a fully functioning female." I examined my new arrangements in the big mirror and smiled nervously. "Will I get sensations like a woman doctor?" "Of course. Watch. I will touch your new clitoris and you can tell me what you feel." I watched his knowledgeable fingers reach into my groin and gently caress the residual penile tissue that had once been my fraenum. A surge of pleasure radiated from my groin and I found my pelvis thrusting upwards to meet his fingers. The doctor smiled appreciatively. "There, see? Everything as it should be. We concentrated all the nerve endings into that one little bud. It's infinitely more erotic and sensitive than your old penis ever was. You'll be free to leave here in a week or so, but keep in touch if there are any problems. Don't go having sex until the scars are healed properly." "How long will that be?" I asked. "Hard to tell. Give yourself a vaginal examination every night and when you feel you are ready, try masturbating carefully with a dildoe. One of the good things about this new procedure is that you don't have to retain an artificial 'keeper' in your new vaginal scabbard. That said however, you shouldn't go with a man until you are fully confident that you can masturbate yourself to orgasm and treat your vagina as any other woman might. Men can get quite rough in their passion you know and your new equipment is still a little small. I wouldn't like to see you getting hurt." "Yeah, tell me. I spent a childhood of that." I mumbled just audibly enough for him to understand. The doctor's expression softened as he realised what had happened to me during my childhood years in care. "I can't repair any mental scars Beverly. I can only wish you luck and happiness. You're a female now so I hope you find what you're looking for." With those words he helped me up and I returned to my bedroom. There, alone, I examined my exciting new anatomy intimately. It was fascinating. Somehow, even my new vagina was soft and moist, 'Just like a real one. It was a little tight though. I could just get one finger up inside me. The doctor had reassured me that it was still a puppy cunt. When it grew to full size I'd be able to handle a man provided I took some care. That was the reason they had chosen a larger breed; an Alsatian. 'This new experimental stuff was really the business,' I concluded. For the first time, my panties fitted perfectly. I had brought lots of new lingerie with me and I gloried in the smooth faultless lines of my new skimpy pants. Next I got dressed and admired the new outfit that I had purchased for exactly this occasion. I savoured the moment as I smoothed my small tits into my regular bra and wondered when the ovaries would mature and cause my tits to begin to grow. I couldn't wait. After the week had passed, I drove back across the desert with the doctor. He accompanied me on the internal flight because he was going on to Europe whilst I was returning to America. At the international airport we parted company. I booked into a hotel whilst he transferred immediately to the Paris flight. My flight to New York was the next morning so I had a whole night to see the town. That night I went clubbing. The tranny Internet guide was ingrained in my brain so I had no difficulty finding the well- hidden secret clubs. The small hours found me back in my hotel having learned a lot more than I had bargained for about some third world clubs and even weirder floorshows. It hadn't changed one bit from 'Casablanca' and Humphrey Bogart's time. They catered for just about every taste and deviation. The number of offers an unaccompanied girl could receive within an hour was quite breathtaking. Fortunately I had dressed conservatively and made scrupulously proper arrangements for transport. A girl alone in a foreign city couldn't be too careful! The next day I returned home. After a restful transatlantic flight, I transferred at New York then took an internal flight back to my home city. There I met my old boss and was glad to learn that my job was still open. He was fascinated to learn about the treatment and agreed to keep an eye on me. I was grateful for it meant I had proper medical supervision. After discussing the treatment, he explained the situation about the club. "Nobody keeps this place as clean as you do Beverly. All the girl's have been complaining and lots have said they'll only return when you're back. I realise how important a clean place is. Take it easy for now and when you feel up to it you can settle into it easily. There's a pay rise for you if you'll stay." My funds were exhausted but I was surprised to learn that other club owners had expressed an interest in my cleaning services. My boss looked a little sheepish as he offered me a higher wage but I was not prepared to be vindictive. He had given me a job when I was down in the gutter and paid me the going rate for a menial domestic. It was only after he realised that ordinary trannies and T.G's were as fussy as real girls about clean toilets that he realised how useful I was. In those early days though he had been too busy getting the club up and running. Money had been tight. He hadn't been able to pay me much. More importantly, he had provided me with a safe, separate private bedroom and I had to be thankful for that. I liked him. He was a genuinely sympathetic, compassionate man. Many doctors were of course. It was a vocational thing. His maltreatment at the hands of his colleagues coupled with all the ridicule attached by them to his transvestism proved to me. He was a fellow traveler who had also walked the walk as well. We were similar souls walking the same path. Now I was back with a new pay rise and some improvements to my domestic arrangements, I could get by quite well. I was actually beginning to save money from the extra tips. He began to consider me as a sort of partner and one night after the club had closed we chatted into the dawn. We agreed to make some big changes to the club and I offered to become a minor partner. The takings had risen rapidly when the regulars learned I was back and the boss was soon able to take a business plan to the bank. Together, we bought the partially derelict building next door and soon the club had many more facilities. We extended both basement areas and built a larger dance floor. The old dance floor became a club area with tables and a small stage for drag shows and stuff. Next we created a new and bigger changing area with proper private shower facilities. My Boss, Jack, was all too aware of the need for some professional people to maintain their anonymity. He'd been there as well! As the club expanded, we added a new small second restaurant cum bar on the ground floor, this was for the regular trannies who had come out and openly declared their lifestyle. The first floor restaurant was a more discreet place where the secret trannies could find escape. Access was now by membership only. Finally, and most importantly for me, we built two new larger self- contained apartments. The one at the back for me was built overlooking the new garden and the front apartment was built for Jack and his wife. It overlooked the street corner. Yes that's right, Jack, my boss, was a heterosexual, married transvestite. His wife was a tolerant woman and happy to see her husband finally content and successful. Now he could indulge his transvestism whenever he wanted, he was far less stressed. Consequently he was a much sweeter individual who treated his wife well and loyally. Occasionally she came down to the club and slept over but mostly Jack kept it as an emergency sleep over if he was too tired to drive home. His young children never came down to the club. They had no idea about their father's alternative lifestyle and Jack was a stickler for the law. By the time I had moved into my new apartment I noticed the changes in my body. My tits were growing at last but most alarmingly I noticed eight tiny buds growing up my tummy. They had started as eight itching little pimples but soon it was obvious what they were. I phoned the doctor in Africa for an explanation and got a shock. "They must be the bitch tits Beverly. We had to interconnect a lot of the puppy's reproductive system to your own system. I had hoped they wouldn't show under the skin, but obviously they have grown through. Fortunately they shouldn't grow into big human breasts so they'll stay below your waistline provided you wear fairly high-waisted knickers. It was easier to implant the puppy's whole system rather than just bits of it." I sat silent and worried as he elaborated further. "You've got the whole works inside you Bev, bitch womb, bitch vagina, bitch ovaries and bitch tits. "Does that mean I can have- have- puppies?" I squealed. There was a longish silence before he answered thoughtfully. "I- I wouldn't think so. I can't be sure though, it's quite possible. If those nipples have shown up, there might be other complications. Do you want to return and have it all reversed?" he finally offered. I paused nervously. The last thing I wanted was to return to a life of pills and expense. Besides, removing my new vagina was a definite none starter. I hadn't been with any men but I knew from the size of my dildoes and my bitter childhood experiences, that my bitch cunt could take a human dick. It would still be a little tight though. Don't forget that I had once been a boy in care and knew plenty about dick sizes. Four years of abuse in care made sure of that! I sat silent in thought clutching the phone as I summed up the situation. 'Most men liked a tight cunts, didn't they,' I told myself. I had recently been toying with the idea of trying out full sex with a man and was discreetly checking out the club for a less well-endowed man. Now, to have it all reversed; to lose my only chance of ever fulfilling my dream of complete womanhood seemed unimaginable. I knew I was fully capable of sex. The natural moistness and lubrication of my cunt was proof of that. I had something I knew that other transsexuals certainly lacked, a naturally lubricating cunt! They always had to find some artificial way of lubricating themselves before sex. I had the real thing! To lose my new natural girly functions now would be a disaster. No, I decided I wanted to keep my pussy even if it was a bitch's. I decided to wait and see so I replied down the phone. "Well, I think I'll wait a while doctor. I'll keep my vagina for now. Apart from the extra bitch tits, everything else is working fine. I just won't tell my lovers they've got their dick in a bitch's cunt." The doctor let out a soft involuntary chuckle before replying. "Oh you're never a bitch Beverly, you're too sweet for that. Everybody at the clinic liked you. If you want to reverse the procedure in the future, don't hesitate to contact me again. I'm always here and you were my first volunteer. I have to keep in touch with you anyway; the long-term feedback on your progress is essential. I will certainly change my procedures though from now on. Your results have been a huge boost to progress. Just one thought though, don't go sleeping with any dogs." "Wha!" I screeched, "D'you mean I might get pregnant or something?" "It's not impossible Beverly. As I said just now, if everything else is as you say, it might be the case. I would like you to come back in about a year just so that I can correct any problems in that quarter." I swallowed nervously. 'Shit!' I thought. 'Pregnant! To a bloody dog! No way!' After more discussion with advice and tips, I replaced the phone and turned to look at myself in the mirror. The eight nipples rose from my pubic patch in a sort of flattened diamond almost like an octagon. The top two peeped coyly above the low dipped waistband of my panties and I frowned as I realised I would have to wear slightly higher waisted panties. Fortunately, I could still wear thongs and such provocative stuff because my butt was now just perfect. Real girls would have killed for a butt like mine and my newly growing tits were every man's wet dream. I touched my bitch tits lightly and a slow tingle radiated to my human breasts and groin. 'Crickey! They even felt like human nipples, all bloody eight of them!' Recognising that I was turning into a veritable 'babe', I chose my most unprovocative overall and flat working slippers then made my way down to the club. This was my defensive uniform to avoid any unwanted attention from any casual visitors who dribbled through the public parts of the club during the normal daytime. The area was becoming a bit of a tourist thing what with the 'gay village' and stuff. The nighttime regulars treated me with more respect. The club had become a sort of 'drop-in' station where many sexually dysfunctional individuals turned up looking for support and succour to their solutions. The tranny society ran an ad-hoc chat clinic during the afternoons and Jack found that many callers stopped by to have a sympathetic talk and a bite to eat. The lunch-time crowd were good spenders and several high rollers would travel across town to indulge their peccadilloes during a their lunch break. The private part of the club had a discreet rear entrance were those who were not ready to 'come out' could slip down the side alley without being noticed. We were gathering a good reputation and the cafe served plain wholesome food for reasonable prices. The private restaurant was on the second floor so casual passers by could not see who was dining inside. There, the secret cross dressers felt safe from prying eyes during their lunch breaks. Mostly they snatched a bite to eat and simply removed their jackets and waistcoats to reveal the shadowy outline of a delicate lace bra under their shirts. A sort of private declaration of their situation during their boring working days. 'What-ever it takes', was my motto. 'Live and let live. Their money was good, it kept the club profitable and that paid my wages.' During the day I kept a low profile and busied myself with cleaning and general duties. During the day, my outfit comprised loose brace and bib overalls with an over-jacket and my hair tied up under a work cap. This removed all possible provocation and nobody took any notice of 'the cleaner'. Jack liked it. I provided no competition to Jack as he cross-dressed to the nines and ran the club very efficiently. The only time he changed to 'male-drab' was when he went home. As business partners, we felt we had finally got there. Property taxes in the poorer part of town were low and this made profits easier. The second cafe at street level began to draw in a more conventional crowd during the day and the neighbourhood was looking up. The club became progressively more successful until it attracted the attention of the mob and one day the boss received the usual visit with protection demands. The problem was that the club's openness and legitimacy was the main reason for its success. Drag the club into the quagmire of organised crime and the decent clientele would soon go elsewhere. Jack notified the police of course, and there were several sympathetic ears. Some very senior members were secret cross- dressers who were regular members at the private part of the club. Jack's medical advice had helped many of them. The city police force was huge and about forty members regularly used the club. Additionally, the gay cops naturally gravitated to this particular precinct and were becoming very protective of it. With the success of our club, other clubs had sprung up around our club. The area was slowly turning into a 'gay village' with our club at the epicentre. The police promised the boss support but obviously they couldn't be around at all times. They suggested he buy a large watchdog. By now the Jack and I were considering expanding again. The city planners were happy with the first club and agreed to let him develop a derelict site on the opposite corner block. It was the old railway freight office and warehouse and it actually had some historical architectural merit. With a sympathetic gay architect as a partner, we three started developing the site. Soon a trendy chintzy apartment block had added to the ambience of the neighbourhood. The mob were getting more interested and it became something of a race to get the neighbourhood decent before the mob took over. Fortunately, the police and city council were on our side but it was not an easy ride. One Sunday as I lay taking it easy in my apartment, there was a commotion outside. Nervously I listened at the door to hear Jack arguing on the stairs. I was surprised to hear his voice. He was not normally around on Sunday afternoons because the club was closed and he spent all day with his kids. Whoever was threatening Jack had obviously not bothered to check that I was living in the other apartment. I quietly phoned the police station and within seconds a patrol car wailed up the street. There was a scuffle and then a single shot before footsteps thundered up the stairs followed by a lot of shouting. Through the keyhole I watched several dark blue uniforms arresting the assailant whilst Jack lay crumpled against the wall. After the commotion was over and the gunman disarmed, I came out and reported what I had seen. Fortunately Jack was not killed but it was a dire warning. The following week a huge Alsatian dog called Billy appeared in the club. Jack had taken the police advice and the dog had the run of the club when it was closed. Billy also backed up the bouncers during the evenings and he soon became a huge favourite with the regular members. He was a massive specimen and superbly trained. Normally he gave all the appearances of being a big stupid friendly mutt, but when ordered, he turned into something totally different. At first sight, I fell in love with him. His big intelligent eyes and alert ears would have broken any dog lover's heart. My feelings changed slightly though. After seeing the darker side of his nature during some unpleasantness at the door one night, I became a little afraid of him. It obviously wasn't wise to cross Billy; he could bite if called upon. However, because we both permanently lived in the club I inevitably took responsibility for feeding him. Within a few weeks, Billy was 'my dog' and I gave him a huge comfortable basket in my spare room. CHAPTER 4 The arrangements with the basket didn't last. After nine months had passed, my 'puppy implants' had matured and I was now endowed of a proper bitch's equipment. Billy started getting interested. At first he simply pushed his big friendly nose under my skirts and investigated the delightful prospects that his knowledgeable nose detected. I of course resisted and smacked him down but I had to admit to a fricassee of nervous pleasure. My little clitty was becoming more sensitive with each passing day. Each night, after the club was closed, I would allow Billy the run of the club downstairs but he took to scratching and whining at my apartment door for hours. He obviously knew more about me than I did. It had become a routine for the both of us to go for a jog in the park each morning, I with my tight leotard and running tights, and he with his sturdy leather collar and flashy blue handkerchief. In the early days he used to career about the park investigating every thing of interest but just lately he took to running to heel, and never leaving my side. We looked exactly what I thought we were, a girl out jogging with her well-trained dog for protection and companionship. Billy obviously saw it as something else but I, in my naivety, failed to spot it immediately. It came to a head when two muggers spotted me and deemed me a suitable victim. Unusually, Billy had been distracted by something and he was a few yards back around a bend in the path when the youths attacked. I screamed and suddenly this furious tawny and black maelstrom appeared from nowhere. The muggers were put to flight and Billy loomed over my seated form as I lay gasping against the railings. Gratefully, I dragged him to me and squeezed his massive head as I hugged him thankfully to my body. Billy let out a low whine then sniffed the blood from my scalp. I giggled as his wet nose tangled with my long golden hair and I playfully shook his head with my hands. Suddenly, Billy stopped sniffing me then gripped my chest between his paws and pressed his body against mine. It was then that I noticed that he was getting aroused. I gasped with embarrassment and glanced around to see that nobody was about. Here was I, a pretty girl lying in the park with an aroused dog on top of me. Fortunately the area was clear and I tried to get up. Billy was having none of it. He continued gripping his paws either side of my chest and pushed me down as he urgently thrust his organ against me. "Hey Billy! Stoppit! Don't do that! Stoppit! You naughty boy! Get down!" Billy persisted and I was helplessly pinned down. He was a big powerful dog and I was only a slightly built girl. I was getting frightened. "Stoppit boy! You're a naughty dog! Get off!" I ordered uncertainly. It was no good. Billy seemed determined take me. I was helpless. He gently took my shoulder in his huge jaws and pinned me there between his front paws. I was trapped by a horny dog in a public park. As I lay pinned with my head against the railings and my legs spread apart I felt his rigid organ urgently seeking an entry. Fortunately my leotard and running tights prevented all hope of penetration but I had to admit to a sudden twinge of excitement. 'Oooh!' I gasped and shuddered with lust. 'His cock was so stiff!' 'What was happening to me? I wondered'. Suddenly I heard voices and my panic gave me added strength. I grabbed Billy's balls and gave them a squeeze as I struggled to get up. My action surprised him and he yelped as he lurched back. Seizing my opportunity I scrambled to my feet and tided myself up just as another pair of jogging women appeared around the bushes. I recognised them as regular lesbian members of the club and they recognised both Billy and me. "Why Bev," they chorused as they spotted the blood on my head. "What's happened?" "I was attacked by some youths, Billy saved me." Billy was trying to jump up again, but I had now regained my composure. Once I was standing again, he seemed to sense that I had the dominant position. I ordered him to heel then both girls praised him and patted him affectionately. "You were lucky. Billy's a wonderful guard dog." Billy seemed to revel in the praise and barked excitedly as the pair made a fuss of them. I realized that Billy felt he was protecting me, his bitch. It was obvious that he perceived no threat from two other females. "Come on Bev, you can join us," suggested one of the girls. If those thugs are about, we'll all be safer with Billy here." I nodded agreeably and we set off as a foursome as we chatted about the attack. As we jogged together, one of the girls recognized a pair of gay policemen jogging on the other side. She shouted to them and we reported the incident. They asked me to come down to the station later to possibly identify the pair from a collection of mug shots. I agreed and the pair jogged off, but not before one of the lesbians had noticed the pair staring at me. Then both girls gave me long worried glances until one felt forced to speak. "Ehm Bev. Perhaps it's none of our business, but your uuhm, you're showing you know." I glanced down to see a darkish patch in the crotch of my leotard and realised that I was starting my first period. I was also getting horny as hell!" I turned crimson with embarrassment but the girls smiled sympathetically. They knew I was a transsexual and they knew that I had been a volunteer for some sort of experimental treatment but they were not aware of the exact nature of my surgery. "Are you really menstruating?" Gasped one of them. I crimsoned with embarrassment and nodded self-consciously. Unexpectedly, they squeaked with delight. "You mean you're truly a girl, with all the bits and everything." I nodded again and they gathered around to hug me tight. Then they accompanied me to their car and presented me with a spare napkin. "You should never go far without these. You need some lessons in girly stuff Bev." I thanked them and they drove away as I slumped in the driver's seat and discreetly fiddled with my jogging gear as I scrunched the napkin into the crotch of my knickers. Billy went berserk in the back of the station wagon as he barked and chewed at the restraining bars fixed to the rear seat. There he continued whining, scratching and growling until we got home. After a struggle with his choke chain I finally managed to subdue him and get him back to my apartment. I couldn't understand why I was just so horny!!! In my hurry to reach the bathroom and clean myself up, I forgot to lock Billy in the spare room. I had slipped his choker and left him drinking some water from his bowl in the kitchen whilst I closed the bathroom door and stripped before stepping into the shower to wash myself. As the hot water splashed against my sweaty body I found my fingers wandering to my girly parts and slowly relieving myself of the tension that had built up. My clitty was stiffer than I had ever felt it but more importantly, all my nipples were beginning to tingle. I just could not attend all my needs! A desperate clitty, eight tingling bitch tits on my lower tummy and two more turgid buttons standing out like organ stops from my girly breasts! All were demanding attention and I simply didn't have enough fingers to go around. 'Hell!' I gasped to my self. `If this is how bitches felt, no wonder dogs did it in the street. They wouldn't be able to resist it!' Finally I brought myself to a bone shaking orgasm and staggered out of the shower to reach for the towel. I had forgotten all about Billy in the height of my own pleasures. After wrapping the towel around me, I had forgetfully stepped into my bedroom. I bent down to open my lingerie drawer and suddenly felt a massive thump from the rear as Billy leapt upon me. In the grip of my orgasm, I had utterly forgotten that Billy was loose in the apartment. Suddenly I was forced face down across the dressing table and pinned there as the towel was dislodged from my body to expose my hopelessly naked condition. "Billy! I squealed. Get Down! Stoppit!!" This time Billy was having none of my nonsense. His paws locked around my slender waist and I simply could not extricate my butt from his eager grip. Desperately I tried to force myself back and up off the dressing table but this simply forced my butt closer into his forepaw grip. Suddenly I felt the tip of his cock touch the cleft of my bum cheeks and I squeaked with shock as I lurched forward again to find my thighs fetched up hard against the dressing table. Billy padded forward on his rear legs as his weight pinned me down again. I swallowed nervously as the hard tip of his cock probed inquisitively for my most secret place. A dog was raping me! My own pet no less! I tried once more to wriggle free but this only inveigled his cock further into my cleft until he suddenly found the exact spot. Somehow his natural instincts must have known exactly what to feel for with his organ because he thrust forward at exactly the right moment. With a slight squishy plop his pointed organ slipped right inside me and he began thrusting eagerly as my eyes widened with surprised delight. There was absolutely no pain and I concluded that my bitch cunt must have been perfectly prepared. Perhaps he gave off some special pheromones or something, what ever it was, I simply could not help myself. His incredibly stiff rod started reaming me and caused my own urgent needs to go into overdrive. I just could not help myself! My butt started pumping eagerly as my bitch responses took over. Make no mistake, I had become a bitch on heat and Billy knew it! As I stared in the mirror I saw Billy's huge tongue licking my neck whilst my own tongue hung out of my slack jawed gasping mouth and my eyes took on a glazed, wanton, lustful expression. My bitch parts had taken over my body! Then I began to feel that tingling sensation around my tummy again and I realised I was going to orgasm again. All eight bitch nipples started to tingle and my clitty started to throb with desire. I tried to readjust myself to get Billy's cock to rub my clitty but doing it doggy style simply did not facilitate such a pleasure. My human clitty was set too far forward to enjoy any stimulation from Billy's fabulous organ. I was getting frustrated. I could not even reach under my belly to rub my clit because Billy's weight forced me to fold my arms under my girly breasts to stop them being crushed. Somehow, I had to get to the bed and get Billy to screw me like 'two spoons in a drawer'. This proved impossible though. Billy was too engrossed in pumping me full of his seed and I remained pinned helplessly down to the dressing table. Eventually Billy gave a short gasping yelp and slackened his grip on my slender waist. I assumed he had 'orgasmed' and would now withdraw but I knew nothing about doggy sex! My girlish hips had given him an excellent 'notch' to clasp me and I had been held helplessly in his passion. I assumed his passion was now exhausted and I squirmed gratefully as I felt his grip slacken. It was the stupidest thing I could have done! As Billy's thrusts slackened I suddenly realised his knot had swollen and we were now hopelessly 'tied'. My squirming caused him to slide sideways off my back and I felt his huge knot pull cruelly at the scabbard of my bitch cunt. Paroxysms of agony stabbed from my cunt and I squealed with surprised pain as Billy Dragged his leg over and faced away from me. We were now tied butt to butt and I felt Billy drag me backwards as he towed me towards his food bowl. I tried to stop him but my pain was much greater than his. His fabulous cock was able to hinge backwards and he simply towed me like a close-coupled trailer with me utterly unable to resist. Naked, I was dragged across the apartment to the kitchen where he simply lay down and started lapping away at the water. I simply had to lie down with him and stay obediently quiet whilst my master indulged his needs. The swollen knot inside me defied all my efforts to expel it. My cunt was just too small and there seemed to be some sort of sphincter arrangement just inside my cunt, as though my pelvic arrangements deep inside were too narrow to allow the knot to escape. I was securely tied to my lover and utterly subservient to his will. Wherever Billy went, I would have to go, backwards! Thus Billy was locked into me until such time as his desires were satisfied. While his cock was locked into me I had no recourse but to obey his wishes, the consequences of disobedience were just too dammed painful! He had turned me into an obedient submissive sex slave and I had to simply lie there quietly as he indulged his proprietal rights over me. I felt his hot organ occasionally twitch as it sent another delightful pulse of his seed deep into my receptive centre. I was his until he had finished with me and he was satisfied no other dog would steal his prize. I was his 'Alpha bitch! As he lazily licked his bowl clean I had time to reflect on my situation. I reckoned that I could not become pregnant because I was in the middle of my period. Pacified by this knowledge, I relaxed and waited obediently. Eventually Billy tired of his food and stood up as he glanced knowingly around to look at me. I whimpered slightly as his knot tugged inside me then I struggled to an 'all fours' position in anticipation of his next move. Casually he set off for my bed and I scuffed frantically backwards to avert the pain. The worst was yet to come. As he reached my bed, he nonchalantly leapt onto it and dragged me brutally behind him. I screamed with pain and lurched desperately backwards to find myself plopped down beside him face to face. For a moment I eyeballed him then he nosed me violently to subdue my uppity cheek. I was his bitch and I did not stare the master in the face. I was forced to bend my head into his huge chest and avert my eyes. The situation for me however was now improved. His hinged cock was now entering me belly to belly in what would conventionally be called the 'missionary position. I dreaded to think what any narrow-minded missionary would have thought of this particular conjugation. In the old days, both Billy and I would have been burned at the stake. Probably tied together as we still were. Fortunately, my apartment door was locked and I now had time to relax. I pushed myself against Billy's soft underbelly and eased his swollen knot deeper up my cunt and away from my battered vaginal sphincter For the first time since his knot had swollen, I was now out of pain. Deep inside me, my scabbard was wider and the knot was not stretching or ripping my sheath. His hot organ was back where it belonged, deeper inside me and I felt myself gently thrusting as my clitty now pressed against his cock and he started to whine and pant. He re-adjusted himself and I finally found myself in a comfortable erotic position. Eagerly I took advantage and quickly brought myself to orgasm before we settled into a tight embrace as I wrapped my arms around his massive chest and shoulders to keep him inside me forever. My efforts were to fail. Billy demonstrated his total superiority by eventually deciding he'd had enough. I felt his knot soften then he growled softly and dug his rear paws into my belly. His cock started to drag against my bitch ring and I felt as though my whole scabbard was being ripped out of me. I let out a squeal of pain that degenerated into a classical bitch's yelp as his softened, (though still painfully oversized) knot finally popped out from my cunt. I winced and squealed as Billy lurched backwards with a low yelp of pain. My hands groped to my burning pussy but his inquisitive nose beat me to it and his tongue started licking the inflamed ring. For a moment I tensed in anticipation of further abuse until I felt his saliva saturating my cunt ring with its soft balm. The burning sensation slowly ceased and I slumped with relief as he turned and settled beside me in the bed. I was too exhausted to care (and too frightened to try and boss him about,) so I slumped against him and fell asleep. Chapter 5 It was Billy who woke me. He whined loudly and scratched at the door and I knew he wanted to take a leak. Delicately, I minced painfully towards the door and slipped the latch as he trotted down the stairs and nosed the dog flap open. I watched from the window as he visited his favourite spot then thanked God; he had been trained to a high standard of hygiene. Without once stopping to sniff any dirt or other places, he returned to my apartment. It was obvious that his instincts told him his bitch needed watching. No other dog would be allowed to pay a call. I needed another shower so I stepped into the huge cubicle and started to wash myself. I was soaping my hair when I felt a cold draught and groped blindly to close the door. As I turned I suddenly felt a cold nose poke itself into my secret place and I squealed with shock. Billy had invaded the shower to check on his bitch. The bathroom door had a simple handle that any big dog could open with his teeth if it was not locked. As he sniffed my bitch parts I rinsed my hair and studied my new partner. He was soaking so decided to wash him and he thoroughly enjoyed our new game. He obviously associated my scented shampoo with me and seemed perfectly happy to accept my ministrations. Half an hour sharing the shower had cemented our relationship. Billy was mine and I was his! After toweling myself down, I switched on the hair dryer and spent an exciting hour grooming his magnificent coat. He thoroughly enjoyed my grooming and obviously saw it as a bonding process. My new partner emerged spotless and glossy so I now turned to myself and prettied myself in the mirror. I could not resist looking at Billy in the mirror as he lay stretched magnificently on the bed and studied me with his deep brown sensitive eyes. In the mirror I saw his eyes following my every move as I brushed my long blond hair and prepared for the evening in the club. As I opened my lingerie drawer, he slipped off the bed and sniffed through my intimate garments and nuzzled them appreciatively. He obviously associated the skimpy smooth material with his bitch's most intimate parts. I chose a pair and he gave them a knowing lick before allowing me to slip them on and cover my nudity. His inspection did not cease there. Every garment I chose required his inspection and it un-nerved me. He seemed to be inspecting my every move. Eventually I was dressed but he still gave me one final inspection under my skirt before allowing me down to the club. Strangely, he seemed to ignore me in the club and concentrated on his other duties as a guard dog. He only made a cursory occasional check upon my whereabouts. He seemed to know exactly when and where to make his position as master clear and it was obvious that he was keeping an eye on me. Whenever I approached the doors Billy somehow appeared beside me as though anticipating my going outside and possibly encountering other dogs. I decided not to push the barriers and step outside. It would have stressed Billy out to have to decide between guarding the club and guarding his bitch from other dogs. The strange thing was, I did not feel like a prisoner. I felt like the queen bee. I was the Alpha bitch and every time I looked at his proud head and magnificent body, I felt my stomach flip and my crotch go moist. 'Was I turning into a real bitch?' I asked myself. Eventually the evening ended and we retreated to bed. I already knew that I was going to share my bed that night. I had no choice. Billy was the master now! As I prepared our suppers, Billy stayed close to me and sniffed knowingly at my damp panties. 'Was it to be another bout of raw sex?' I asked myself and found myself secretly hoping it was. Billy seemed to think so too and after wolfing down his food, he leapt onto the bed and stared boldly into my eyes as though ordering me to join him in the bed. My hands trembled as I fumbled with the dishwasher controls and I was even clumsier removing my clothes. My heart thumped frantically then I felt my cunt juices begin to flow again as my needs betrayed my condition. My cunt was still on heat! 'Damn! But Billy was a handsome dog!' He obviously smelled my condition and whined eagerly as his tail thumped out a rhythm on the bed. Perversely, I found myself putting on my frilliest nightie and sliding provocatively onto the bed. This time I was determined to have him take me missionary style so I could enjoy the pleasure of his powerful thrusts. I slid between the sheets and invited him to join me, which he readily did. He eagerly investigated my secret places then ripped my panties off with one tug of his superb teeth and set to mounting me. He had already learned that panties interrupted his access to his bitch This time I was ready and had more control. Gently I rolled on my back and let his powerful forepaws grip my waist then I thrust my eager bitch cunt onto his incredibly stiff cock. Billy quickly grasped the technique and indulged himself. He simply settled on his haunches and lay comfortably along my soft rounded belly. Then, all he had to do was thrust forward in the normal doggy fashion while his rear paws fitted neatly under my bum. Now I could savour his rigid organ slipping deep into my sex. Simultaneously he trapped my urgent clitty at the base of his velvety sheath and I could now share his pleasure. Thus are the problems of animal diversity solved. Eagerly I lay back with my hips thrusting up to him as he stretched out along my belly with his front paws beside my chest. I gripped his beautiful head in my arms and pulled my body tight against his as I rose eagerly to meet him. His forepaws were now stretched down either side of my breasts and jammed under my shoulders to gain a purchase. Thus locked together