So I always turned to my only confidante and dearest best friend when it came to sharing my amour dilemmas. Her name was Anita; a most gentle soul, tender and sympathetic. And terribly beautiful. She was a Border Collie, gracefully painted white and black, trimmed rather short but with a bushy, long tail like that of a fox of which I was very jealous - mine had always stayed so stubby.
Anita, like Marshal Atlas, lived not more than a few streets away. Her human, Honey, and my Darling - equally good friends - would meet quite often for tea and talk, so we spent a lot of our puppyhood playing together. Though, by the time I was one year old in human terms, the winter had settled in and I had stopped seeing Anita until next spring when Honey had made a fortunate habit of visiting Darling every week, worried perhaps by her strangely big belly which had also frightened me.
Now, that particular spring was, to put it lightly, adventurous. It was during that spring that I resumed looking for someone to drive away the sadness and loneliness that had clung to my heart since wintertime. But I found myself wanting a different kind of love all of a sudden, one that a simple nose-to-nose or frolic through the autumn leaves under the pale moon just would not satisfy. It did not help that Darling was becoming too unwell for our afternoon walks, so I was restricted to the occasional stray dogs I would see passing by through the bars of my fence, and, in a way, I felt offended; I simply could not see myself entangling with a stray.
However, after a long winter, I'd been reunited with Anita and that did sweeten the sour circumstances. I still recall how awestruck I was seeing her all grown up for the first time and it delighted me to witness how gorgeous of a lady the time had made of her, though I was amused to find out that her lovable yet silly ears - one perked and one asleep - had haunted her even in adulthood, something that did not seem to bother her which was rather surprising, as only I know how self-conscious she was about it when we were still pups.
"Well, they might look silly still, but the boys don't seem to mind."
Of course, when it came to boys, I was unfazed to hear that Anita had landed her mark on quite a few herself. Unlike me, she did not retire for winter. What astonished me about her, though, was how much she'd changed outside her appearances.
From the day I knew Anita, it pleased me greatly to discover how very much alike we were. Both demure, both elegant, with winsome smiles across our faces. Such was still true even past adolescence, I felt, and I liked to believe that, with time, we came to rival each other in beauty. Yet, what seemed to have abandoned her, which had always been a part of us when we were little, was her shyness. It was completely gone, especially when boys and more indelicate matters became the prime subject of discussion in our weekly meetings. By then, I had already told her of this different kind of love that was making rounds inside me, something that my instincts had failed to educate me on, and it surprised but relieved me to find out how much more knowledgeable she was about it; I was suffering from spring heat, as she called it, or, in a slightly cruder sense, that I simply craved to be bred - something Anita herself was suffering from.
She did not skip schooling me about fantasies either, of which I found I had plenty. Yet, those were things that I rather preferred to keep to myself.
"Well, it's unladylike," I would defend, "to speak openly about such things."
But Anita would greatly disagree. "Oh, Lady, but why? It's such a beautiful time in our lives. Why should we shelter ourselves? We're both girls after all. What's a best friend for if not to discuss those so-called 'such things' in a time of need?"
And she was right. If there was anyone apart from myself who I could talk about them with, it was Anita. Our bond and trust did make me open up a little eventually, however, not nearly as much as herself, who was as open and transparent as any jellyfish. And so, without much of a chance to protest, one by one, I got acquainted with all those erotic dreams of hers. Though they did titillate me a little I admit, she appalled me by how forward she was when talking about them, and some were quite unsavory as well. Often she wished, she would tell me, to be bred by multiple dogs at once.
"Lady dear, I always dreamed of it. Of how I would crawl out for a little walk in town one happy day. Only, this time, by myself. Without my Honey. I would be merrily on my way and would stumble on this forbidding alley that I never turn to. And curiosity would tug on me. But- oh! What is this? I take a turn and another and another- a dead end! Suddenly, I hear growls. I turn fearfully and a pack of hungry stray dogs, very, very hungry strays, surround me. And I back away helplessly as they close in. They want to breed me! The leader of the pack claims me first and loves me so lustfully that I lose light in my eyes. But the other mutts, oh Lady, they are impatient. They can't wait to have their turn. They would crawl beneath my belly and suck my nipples dry until I would let out milk. And by the time each had his way with me, oh- I could only dream of pleasure like that."
And, normally, I would have gravely disapproved of her outrageous indecencies, except that my imagination wasn't much cleaner either. But the mere thought of Anita's wish of being disgraced and humiliated in such a way unsettled me. A good scolding, I thought, was the best I could have done.
"Anita!" I would make up a gasp. "But why would you want something so unthinkable to happen to you? To be shamed and disrespected like that by some hateful strangers; Anita, you disappoint me! You're a tasteful, distinguished girl. Anything but a loose dog."
And I expected in return to spot, at least, some sort of clue to happen in her eyes; a clue of guilt or remorse or just anything to show that she should have known better than to think that up. But her frown of indignation and the scoff in her response truly amazed me.
"Unthinkable you say? Hmph! I'd never behave tartly, it is true, but who am I to deny my heart what it wishes for? A pack of dogs? I would even take on two! Gladly, happily, with open arms and, for that matter, open legs! And don't you be lecturing me, sitting there hiding behind your ears, telling me I disappoint you! I'd bet my collar you've wet your tail just thinking about it, acting all tasteful and distinguished - you sly creature! You know you want it just as bad as I do. No matter how much of a lady you are, if a group of mutts happened in here right now, oh, you'd be breeding them until your paws gave out, unsatiable little fox!"
Me? Unsatiable fox? To put it lightly, I was hurt to hear Anita say such things. Of course, it was only much later that I understood it wasn't Anita who was growling at me at that moment, but the spring heat inside her belly that growled in her stead. She was simply confused, frustrated about things that she just did not fully understand, and I am certain now that, if she ever did the shocking things she spoke to me about, in not more than two months she would have regretted it deeply. Raising the pups of a stranger is something I would not wish on anyone.
But it goes without saying that, then, I lacked the wisdom of today. Besides, Anita had traded her timidity for confidence, and that was more than enough to put me in my place. I was even more confused than her by what was going on with us. What was I to do, melting in the inside from my own spring heat, except shut my mouth and concede to her claims that were not completely false?
"But let's not talk about that, Miss Goody-two-paws. Why not tell me about your fantasies instead? I'd be most surprised if yours aren't just as unthinkable or dishonorable - as you make them seem."
Yet, Lady of back then, though hurt by her best friend's brazen words, was tenfold as angry. I just don't know, not even to this day, what I wanted to prove by taking up Anita's foolish challenge. Too inflamed I was, perhaps, to be the voice of reason between the two of us. So what started as an uneven argument of the most indecent kind became a quick competition of whose imagination was more, should I say, passionately concupiscent, and Anita eagerly awaited my response.
I never really shook off the shame of what my mouth was about to let out at that moment. Yet, nor did I lie when I confessed how much I wished that it all would happen. And though I did try to prove her wrong and keep at least a hint of restraint, in the end, I fell prey to my desires and let myself get carried into realms I did not think imaginable.
So I told Anita how often I'd fancied myself in the deepest, most secluded and secret spot in the humans' park, alone in the bushes, necked and petted for hours on end by three brawny wolfdogs. I would be the center of their circle, pleasuring myself in the fervent love their kisses would caress me with. One of them, I dreamed, would love me on the neck; one would love me on the ear; the last would earn the savor of my lips and the sweetness of my tongue. But I would be fair with all and see to it that each would have his turn to love the best of me. Because they were mine and mine alone, and I was their darling queen. What I said, wanted, and wished would be absolute for them. So I would demand that one should drown my lips in kisses, one should breed my deepest spots, and one should lap me where no gentleman should otherwise dare touch a lady. I would use them to exhaustion and would order that should they stop unless permitted, there would be consequences to be suffered. But of all the things I lusted for, I lusted the hardest to have my ladyhood licked by all three of them together; to feel the softness of their tongues tasting my sugary aromas, their cold, rough noses fondling my burning inside. They would crash me to the ground, my belly up, my legs spread, and would kiss, would nose and feast on my moisty lips until I would wet their whiskers in my rapture. But, by then, I would be too lost in satisfaction to order their retreat. And again I would be bred, bred so vigorously savage as though they craved to punish me, and they would not stop until I'd contented their wild hearts.
For the first time, I'd let out what dwelled inside my raunchy little head of a young girl fresh into adult matters and never have I felt so embarrassed. I'd played into Anita's silly game, and there I sat, awaiting to be ridiculed. But Anita, instead, though it should not have surprised me at all, had calmed down, and the look in her eyes and the way she passed her tongue across her lips met me with the possibility that she might have, in fact, enjoyed herself listening to my obscenities. She truly was the kind of girl who would not hide anything, not the bawdy clue in her giggle, not the suggestive swaying of her bushy tail.
"See? Not even you can resist it. So much for that slap on the wrist, telling me how unthinkable it is to make love with a pack of strangers. At least I'd pictured myself in an unlucky context, helpless and vulnerable. But you? Oh, you let them breed their hearts out into you on purpose! So vigurously savage, too."
But her attempt to justify herself by bringing me into light was, at best, laughable. Neither of us had any right to feel any less ashamed of our dirty minds. But young Lady lacked the experience of a seasoned woman who could at once call Anita's folly. So my defense, then, was even more than laughable.
"But they're not strangers. They're my wolfdogs!"
"Sure, Lady," she would snicker. "Such a shame they're not real, though. I would've loved a round myself. But I must say - so very poetic! Kissing and necking and all that set-up. To fancy yourself as a queen with three virile consorts pleasuring you on command; quite a turn-on! Though you're a little too severe; no wonder they'd punished you."
And I thought it was a little unfair how Anita, quite breezily of her, delighted herself in my fantasies and with my imaginary wolfdogs, because I could never dream myself in hers being violated by her despicable thugs she had made up. But what Anita had asked me next made me so skittish yet excitable - in ways I struggled not to divulge - that I'd forgotten all about it.
"But tell me this and be honest, Lady; do you like to have your cookie licked that bad?"
"My what?"
"Your cookie. You know; that devilish little thing itching us out of our minds. Well, you call it your ladyhood - rather modest of a way to name it, if you ask me - but I call it my cookie. By how much the boys like to eat us girls out, it would be only natural to call it that."
"Oh, Anita-!" I would recoil.
And Anita would approach me with a titter. "You know, you're cute when you do that. You've no idea how irresistible boys find a girl like you who lusts for sex on the inside but is coyly reserved on the outside. You should try that where we're going."
"Wait, where are we going?"
"To have our cookies licked."
"Excuse me?"
"Well, you wish to live your dreams, don't you? Not just tell them. Because I, for one, wouldn't mind a little bit of fun. And I know a band of brothers who'd be more than delighted to feast on two appetizing ladies such as ourselves."
"But-"
"No buts, Lady. Sitting here, talking fantasies and drooling for amor all day isn't going to do us any good if we do nothing about it."
"But what about Darling and Honey?"
"What about them? Lady, it would be rather unsettling if they came along, wouldn't it?"
"Oh my days, Anita! What I meant is what if they find that we are gone?"
"Oh, we'd be back way before they'd even think to check, playing in the grass like the two good girls they say we are."
"But Anita-!"
"What is it?"
"Anita, I want to have my- you know, but I don't want to risk being bred by a dog I simply don't know."
"My sweetheart, don't you worry your little head about that. Those boys - they wouldn't breed us."
"And how do you know?"
"Well, you'll just have to trust me."
"Anita, I love you, I really do. But I don't trust you."
"Oh! Now I'm offended! Lady, they're snipped. Understand? Snipped! They wouldn't be able to knock you up even if you wanted to. Now stop yapping already and come on. We'll sneak out through your backyard. I don't want those nosy two neighbors of yours asking me about the stork again."
I found myself reluctantly following Anita on that particular spring day, though it was a reluctance of which my paws showed no sign. It was only when I looked over my shoulder and I saw my house be just a tiny, undistinguishable building in the stretching distance that I realized what was going on. Her idea of a girls' afternoon in town - as Anita put it when we were taken by surprise by a wandering Jock - was as deceiving as it was arousing, and it aroused me to no end in ways both I and Anita were aware of. We were on our way to a place where Anita said a pack of "spunky triplets" would take care of us, and I, at that moment, would not have wished for anything else more than that. My patience was thinner than a strand of fur, so much so that, unknowingly, often I found myself overtaking Anita in our walk.
"Someone's impatient," Anita would comment, nudging my side.
"I'm not impatient," and I would vainly argue, "Just uneasy, is all."
"You're afraid."
"A little."
"Have you not done this before? Not even by yourself?"
Then a brief pause would squeeze between our dialogue. "Have you?"
"Well, I used to be quite sweet on the soft carpet in Honey's bedroom. But she didn't take too lightly what I did with it, so I got in trouble. But then I met these boys one cold, wintry day of January, and the way they warmed me and my little heart since, simply made me want to know them better. And I can tell you I came to know them quite well." The explicitness in her wink and smile had taken me aback. "You can imagine, I trust, that I'd given that boring carpet a rest a long time ago."
Yet, I could not help leaning in for a timid but boldly curious whisper. "And how is it - you know - with these boys of yours?"
"Oh, Lady, I'm not just going to spoil it for you. A girl's first time is always the most magical. But knowing what naughty thoughts you've been having, I'd say you might like it a little too much. Just don't let them scare you; they like to play bully a little and might seem a bit frightening at first, but they're all just a bunch of lovable rascals. Once they catch a whiff of your aromas, though, you can make whatever you want out of them. A girl in heat will bring any scary mutt down to a little puppy. And now that there's two of us, oh Lady, we'll simply toy with them! We call the shots when it comes to sex."
The enthusiasm in Anita's voice spirited me a little, too. She was so much more impatient than I was that our walk became a jog that quickly turned into a sprint. And we were sprinting down, cutting along, clouds of dust behind us, on our way to this fated ladies' pleasure land that would quench our thirst. And it all seems funny to me now imagining that little young Lady of old - the symbol of properness - with her big brown eyes and a heart of a doe, letting herself be drawn out of her safe and cozy home to an unknown place where a pack of strangers would touch, kiss, nose and love every inch of her maiden body - with her own accord, no less - all because of that- well, little "cookie" of hers itching a little too hard.
"Anita, wait for me!"
"Come on, Lady! It's only a little bit further!"