Carolyn sat with frozen horror, her eyes glued to the small movie screen at the end of the long dining room table, her fingers white from clutching the edge of the thick wooden chair on which she sat.
On the white-beaded screen not six feet from her eyes, she watched herself being ravished by a great golden dog whose terrible pointed penis dug holes in her body, plunging in and out, stretching the tender pink slit mercilessly. When the camera periodically zoomed in for a close-up, she could feel her stomach churn up and she felt ill. She could see the soft inner lips of her vagina cling to the dog's thick hard organ as it rose and fell, leaped and lunged. She could see the muscles, her muscles, tighten and release around the animal's awful penis, slowly, deliberately milking it to climax. But worst of all, worst of all, was the awful look of wild animal passion on her own face, a look of anguished need, of sexual need of such magnitude that she was fascinated and horrified at the same instant. She watched her writhing body raise beneath the dog's humping haunches, rising to meet him thrust for thrust until the bulge on his great organ began to swell toward climax. She could see it growing, like a knot on a tire just before a blowout, see it grow as he pushed and pulled it in and out of her body until the swelling was too great for the small vaginal orifice to release. And still he hunched frantically over her musky hole.
She knew she was going to be ill but still she could not force her eyes from the terrible pictures on the screen. As the great dog's urge claimed him, he humped her cunt so hard that his upward pulls lifted her hips off the bed. He humped her again and again, slamming the thick trunk of his organ in double time, faster, faster. Suddenly Carolyn saw herself – no, not her, some terrible unfortunate creature on the screen – some girl writhe convulsively, forcing her body up the hot fleshy bone, skewering her body onto the dog's humping haunches. The spasms which racked her climaxing body squeezed the bulging organ and he, too, began the frantic race for release. Her climax burst within her, exploding, ripping away the body from the mind. She lay spent and limp upon the deep blue velvet, a single thin red line welling from somewhere within where the dog knot had torn the tender fabric of her body. The huge golden dog humped once, twice more, and then stood still but for an occasional tremor, patiently waiting for the swelling to subside and release him from this used bitch's body.
Carolyn suddenly leaned over, laying her head on her arm along the edge of the table and vomited, retching again and again until only dry heaves shook her body.
Jason Benson smiled coldly and waited. When the heaving had almost ceased, he lifted the ornate water pitcher and poured a glass of water. He tapped her arm gently to attract her attention and sat the ice tinkling glass on the table within reach.
"A cool drink of water will make you feel better, my dear," he said in the same charming modulated voice that Carolyn had thought so attractive during the job interview.
She raised her head and stared across the table at the calm dignified face of Jason Benson. How could she have been so wrong? Outwardly Jason appeared the soul of trust, the soft voice, the cultured demeanor was really all a sham. It was all camouflage for a distorted mind. The prematurely greying hair, the tanned country gentleman look, these were but subtle traps to fool the outside world. Here, inside the high walls of this awful place, he became the base creature he really was. He was just… another of the animals of Royal Benson Kennels! The memory of what she had just seen flooded through her mind like the sloppy backwash of a stagnant swamp. Her throat contracted, her stomach roiled. She reached for the glass of water and drank deeply.
"Feeling better?" he asked, the cold smile fixed upon his face.
Just then the tag end of the rewinding movie reel whirred loose and slap-slapped noisily against the machine.
"Mario!" Jason's voice was edged with contempt for the careless boy. "Watch what you're doing. We wouldn't want to damage that film. It might not be quite so easy to get Carolyn to make another that… interesting."
"Ohhhh, how could you?" Her voice was rimmed with hatred. "How could you?"
"How could I?" Jason smiled. "It was really quite simple, my dear girl. You are sexually inclined by nature and that enviable virtue combined with your almost unbelievable naivete… well, suffice to say, it was a simple task to convince your subconscious mind that it was a devoted lover between your legs."
"How could you do such an awful thing?" Carolyn whispered hoarsely.
"Me?" Jason laughed. "You were the one who did the 'awful' things, Carolyn. You forced my poor assistant into some very degrading situations. I was really quite shocked! Ah, but then, you shall judge for yourself. Mario, would you start the next roll of film please?"
Carolyn's eyes widened and she flashed a quick look toward Mario. He grinned back and shook his dark head in mock disapproval.
"No!" she shouted. "No, I don't want to see it. I don't know how you made me do those terrible things… it was a trick of some kind, drugs or something… but I don't want to see it. Please. PLEASE."
"Oh, very well." He nodded toward Mario to stop the projector. The room was suddenly very silent without the hum of the machine. "I must say I'm rather disappointed, though. It was a very… stimulating… experience watching that bit of film. You may pack away the reel, Mario. Be sure to lock it up quite safely. Miss Vance may wish to see it again some day."
"You're the one who should be locked up! You're crazy!" She stared at the man across the table, her fingers gripping the chair so tightly that the tips were white and bloodless. "You really are crazy!"
"Crazy…? Like a fox, my dear Miss Vance." The icy smile never left his lips. "Those films are my insurance that you won't try to have me locked up. Or anything else unpleasant. Should you try? I would have to tell the authorities that you used your position with Royal Benson Kennels to try to blackmail me. I would have to show them the films I bought from you at exorbitant prices in order to buy your silence. It was worth the $5,000 you demanded to protect the reputation of the kennels."
"They wouldn't believe you. If it was true, you would have turned me over to the police right then and there."
"Not necessarily. Jason Benson is known as a quiet sensitive man, an artist in his own right. They would understand why I wouldn't want to go into court to testify against you. It would mean publicity, the front pages of every paper. No, the police would understand why a man of my reputation preferred to pay blackmail." He leaned back in the chair and looked at her over the brandy glass cupped in his hand. "I feel quite confident that you would prefer to assist me with my work and remain silent rather than spend ten years in prison for blackmail… should it come to that."
"You couldn't prove blackmail even if you wanted to."
"Oh, but I could." His voice was ripe with confidence. "You see, I withdrew $5,000 in cash from my bank today… in small bills… the cashier who has long handled my personal account was quite concerned with my nervousness. Considerate girl, that, she asked me twice if I was sure everything was all right."
Carolyn stared in disbelief. This couldn't be happening to her, not to Carolyn Vance from Tyler Corners whose major sins to date consisted of using her mother's credit card for gas and necking after the Saturday night movie. These things only happened to girls off the street, girls who were looking for trouble and were disappointed if they didn't find it. He couldn't really believe she would stay here and work for him, not after this!
"And if you are still thinking about going to the police, Carolyn," he spoke softly, "discounting the blackmail charges, do you think they would believe you?"
"Of course, they'd believe me," she answered incredulously. "No girl would do a terrible thing like that willingly. You forced me!"
"Did I?" The frozen smile took on a new malignancy. "There were no bonds holding you down, no one holding your legs apart for the dog. Do you really think any person seeing the joy on your pretty face would believe you weren't enjoying it? The way you reached up with your wet little pussy and screwed yourself higher onto his big cock, you think anybody's going to believe you didn't want to fuck that dog?"
"And afterwards, Carolyn, when you and the dog had both spent yourselves so disgustingly, when the swelling went down and he pulled it out and licked you clean… when you smiled and spread your legs and patted your hairy little cunt and tried to coax him back again… do you realty think anyone in their right mind would believe you were forced into it?"
Tears welled in her eyes and ran unchecked down her pale cheeks. He was right. She had seen the awful spectacle herself. No one would believe her, never in a thousand years.
"And the second reel of film, the one you didn't want to watch," Jason continued, "I'm sure it would convince the police of your unfortunate perversion if the other one didn't. You did some very, very naughty things to my poor Mario while he was tied up and unable to get away from you. Oh, he struggled and tried to turn his innocent body away, but you forced your unnatural appetites upon him. Your unrestrained molesting may have caused permanent psychological damage to the lad! It was shocking, shocking!"
Carolyn's face was streaked with tears and she slowly moved her head from side to side. She couldn't have, she couldn't have done anything like that.
"I can see that you don't believe me. Perhaps we should run the film after all. Mario?" Jason taunted.
"No… no, please!"
"Never mind, Mario," Jason purred reassuringly across the table, "Don't cry, my dear. If you stay and work for me as we agreed, no one need ever know about the films. No one at all."
Carolyn hung her head and stared into her tear-dampened lap. This awful man, this canine Jekyll and Hyde had forced her into a corner from which there was no escape. How could she stay here in this house of depravity and work for a man whose mind crawled with evil? How was she to know that he wouldn't try to put her through another night like that? Or worse? Perhaps he would force his own attentions on her. Perhaps Mario would get to thinking about the things she was forced to do to him and his unstable mind might snap. She would be in constant danger here… but the alternative was prison for blackmail. She didn't have a choice.
"What… what do you expect me to do?" she asked with a silent sob in her throat.
"Why, just exactly what we discussed when you accepted the position. I merely want you to help me train these fine young animals. That's all, my dear, just train the dogs."
"Train them? To do what, Mr. Benson? You never did say. Exactly what kind of training do the dogs require?" Her voice was haughty, cutting.
Jason lifted the heavy glass decanter from the center of the table and poured a generous amount in his glass. He lifted the bottle in her direction. Carolyn shook her head. He replaced the stopper in the container, leaned back in the big wooden chair and sipped at the brandy glass cupped in his lean tan hands. He looked at Carolyn from beneath the gently arched brows, half amused, half tolerant.
"I thought you would surely have figured that out by now, Carolyn…"