It was inevitable, Carolyn thought, as she followed Jason Benson through the endless passages of the big house. She knew the time would come when she would be forced to take part in the monstrous perversion but it had seemed so… so unbelievable that her mind had not really accepted the situation in which she found herself. Not until now! As they walked down the long hall toward the kennels and the "indoctrination tour" as Jason put it, Carolyn's mind finally had to face facts.
The door which opened off the Royal Benson Kennel's office was locked. Jason pressed a button beneath the counter top and the door slid open with a soft whir. He gestured for Carolyn to enter, followed her through and pressed another button. The door whirred shut with smooth efficiency.
Before them lay a wide carpeted aisleway flanked on both sides by identical cages of chain link wire, joined one to the other like the row upon row of exclusive center city apartments which thrived in downtown New York City. Each cage was exactly like the next, a large chrome feeding dish, an automatic fresh water bowl and a rectangular mattress pad covered in royal blue canvas. Each cage was occupied.
Carolyn self-consciously shied from the cages, only to bump into a similar row of dogs on the other side of the aisle. She jumped forward, careful to stand in the exact center of the walkway. Her hands were trembling.
"No, no, my dear," Jason explained impatiently. "You don't understand. These are the show dogs, the famous Royal Benson Danes. Animals like these aren't used as toys for the rich, my dear girl, not champion stock like this. It's taken years to perfect such fine dogs."
He walked briskly over to the first cage and pointed to the pair of matched frames which hung one above the other on the cage front.
"Look," he said enthusiastically, "Look at these pedigrees."
Carolyn moved closer at his insistence, and read the small print on the forms. Royal Benson's King Lear, sired by Royal Benson's Black Emperor, sired by Royal Benson's Demon, etc, etc. The ornately printed pedigree went back five generations and each dog bore the kennel title of Benson. She didn't know much about Dane conformation but she knew enough about registered animals to know that an unbroken pedigree line free from inbreeding was an accomplishment to be proud of.
"And here," he continued, pointing to the second frame, "here is a list of every win the dog has made."
He ran his finger down a long list of titles, pausing here and there to emphasize the enormity of the win.
"Best Champion of Show… Best Grand Champion of Show. And here, Best of Show! Do you realize how difficult it is to win a Best of Show out of hundreds of dogs from all over the country?" He asked Carolyn, not pausing for her answer, "All of my boys end up there sooner or later. What do you think of that?"
"It's very… impressive." Carolyn tried to say something to salve his ego but she was still in the cold numb state of near shock.
Jason walked through the cages, calling each great dog by name, scratching them through the wire, praising them in turn as one would children. Carolyn watched him blankly. She had cried away all her tears of horror, the tears of fear… weeped herself dry of revulsion… there was almost nothing left. She walked and talked and tried not to think. There was nothing she could do for the present except as she was told. Jason had made that quite clear when he showed her the movie film of… she shuddered even at the thought… of that terrible dog at her loins. He had locked her in her room overlooking the dog runs, a prisoner of the damnable electric locks, and let her absorb the awful truth. Once she accepted the inevitable, he had said, it would be easier. And perhaps it was. She wasn't sure. She no longer trembled at every sound in the hall, no longer felt nauseous when a dog barked in the runs beneath her window. Perhaps he was right, now that she had accepted the inevitable, the days had been easier.
… if only she could rid her dreams of the endless hordes of slavering dogs with giant cocks which hung stiff and heavy headed beneath their stomachs, dogs which followed her everywhere sniffling at her wet slit and licking their eager organs. One night in her dreams they would attack her, this army of rutting animals that crowded her dreams, and then she would surely go mad… if she wasn't already…
Jason gestured toward the door at the end of the blue carpeted walkway. "This way, my dear."
Carolyn walked slowly between the cages, taking care not to touch the wire sides. She had succeeded in controlling her revulsion thus far but the touch of one of those great beasts, the hot wet tongue upon her hand might be enough to loose the panic she felt inside.
The door beyond Jason bore no handle, no means of access. Carolyn looked about for the electric button but the wall was clean. She looked back at the door. There was a small neat plastic sign. "Hospital Area – No Admittance." She waited for Jason to open the door, and then she suddenly realized that "no admittance" meant that behind that door… only a few steps beyond… were the other dogs. Her eyes grew wide with apprehension and she backed away from the door.
"Yes, my dear, the Hospital Area," Jason smiled at her reaction. "Rather appropriate, don't you think? We like to think of our work as a humanitarian service. You might call it physical therapy."
Lines creased her lovely face but Jason's suddenly clamped jaw warned them away, and Carolyn forced her features into impersonal repose. She didn't trust her voice to remain steady. She nodded her head curtly, keeping her eyes carefully averted from his.
"Never mind," Jason's voice was tolerant. "You will learn. The others did."
"The others?" Carolyn's eyes flashed back to his. It had never occurred to her that there had been others before her, others who shared her fate. What had happened to them? What was going to happen to her when she was no longer needed?
"But of course!" Jason smiled with amusement. "We have had six, perhaps seven other young ladies. Each of whom, I can assure you, learned to enjoy her work with a consuming passion."
"What… what happened to them?" She was almost afraid to ask. "Did you… are they…?"
"Of course not!" His voice grew impatient. "We didn't dispose of them. You watch too many B movies! I simply meant that we had to terminate their employment. They became, shall we say, too enamored of their work. They were wearing my poor boys out and overtraining is just as bad as no training at all. Aahhhh, but enough of that. Come in, come in."
Jason pressed the palm of his right hand firmly against the metal plate of the door. From somewhere beyond, there came the familiar answering whir and the door slid silently open. Carolyn followed him around the elaborate folding screen which sheltered the room from view when the door was open. Whatever she had expected to see in her mind's eye, it certainly was not the sight which met her eyes. She stared at the huge laboratory area. Everything was neat and sterile in appearance. She could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning unit and the temperature was pleasantly cool. There was a fresh light scent of ozone in the air but, she thought with surprise, no doggy odor although nearly half the area was taken up with wire cages. Each cage was immaculate, as those in the outer room had been, except that these cages bore no pedigrees, no identification other than a small neatly lettered sign with each dog's name she could read those nearest her – Nero, Baron, Casanova, Brute, simple names with no hint of Royal Benson registration. Yet to Carolyn's untrained eyes they were as big and well bred as the show dogs she had just admired.
She stared at the dogs, her emotions part horror and part curiosity. Fawn, black, harlequin-spotted animals, alert and obviously in the peak of health. Some were young, gangly legged beasts with huge paws and clumsy manners, the canine adolescents. Some were huge heavy-chested animals: virile, beautiful, terrible… and each one watched her intently. One immense dog in particular, a fawn-colored giant with a black mask, rose from his haunches when she entered and had paced impatiently back and forth the length of his cage ever since. Carolyn felt uncomfortable in his presence and forced her eyes away from his. She turned her back and left the area of his cage and still she felt those eyes following her. She knelt before a separate cage of young puppies, letting them tumble over one another and chew on her fingers; anything to avert her mind from the pacing dog behind her.
Jason watched with interest. The girl seemed to subconsciously sense the King's presence yet he was certain she did not recognize him after a cursory glance at a roomful of dogs. To the novice, one Dane looked pretty much like another. Interesting, Jason thought, interesting.
"Well, my dear," Jason called her attention back to the business at hand, "Would you like to see how we train our dogs?"
Carolyn looked up apprehensively. Jason smiled, enjoying her discomfort. He crooked a finger at the girl.
"Come here."
She walked slowly over to a tiled top counter where Jason Benson waited. He waited until she stood beside him, then reached below the counter into a small refrigerator and removed what looked like a baby bottle with a large old fashioned rubber nipple. He held it up for Carolyn to see.
"This is one of our training aids… and a very effective one too, I might add," he said with the odd secretive smile he seemed to wear so frequently when he looked at her.
Carolyn looked at the bottle. It seemed like a normal feeding bottle, but she felt he expected her to say something.
"Do you bottle feed all your dogs? Don't the mothers feed them?" she asked.
"Aaahhhh, but this is more than a bottle, my dear girl. Here, let me show you." Jason unscrewed the rubber cover and held it in his hand, nipple up. "It looks rather like a woman's breast, doesn't it?"
"Yes…" Carolyn wondered what he was leading up to. She had an uncomfortable feeling she'd rather not know.
Jason appeared not to notice her discomfort and screwed the rubber top back on the bottle and sat it down.
"Now," he continued, "I shall get one of the young pups and show you how we use the bottle in our training program. I'm sure you'll be very interested since it will be part of your job in the future, a very personal part of your job."
Jason Benson walked to the nearest puppy cage and took out one of the small animals. He sat it on the counter top, faced it toward her, and inserted the milk-filled nipple between the pup's teeth. Immediately the hungry dog began to pull at it licking and sucking and making small happy animal sounds. Then suddenly the pup let out a whine and began pawing frantically at his mouth. He whimpered pitifully and looked up at them with begging eyes.
"What's the matter with him?" Carolyn asked, her voice full of concern for the baby animal.
"It won't hurt him." Jason smiled coldly. "He just learned an important lesson. You see, my dear, the nipples on these bottles have a two-fold purpose – they allow a young dog to continue his prolonged abilities to suck, but the nipples also have an unpleasant substance encapsulated between the two sections of rubber. If the pup bites the nipple, his teeth will puncture the first layer of rubber. It's a bitter mouthful! But the bitter lesson is the one first learned. The liquid is composed basically of alum, cayenne and saline solution, nontoxic but thoroughly distasteful as you can see. After several such experiences, our young friend here will learn to suck on the nipple if he wishes the reward… not bite… a virtue I'm sure you will appreciate as time goes on."
"You don't mean these dogs are trained to… to…"
"To nurse at a girl's breast?" Jason helped her finish the question. "Yes, that is exactly what I mean. It will be part of your job to see that the lesson is learned well!"
She felt sick at her stomach. She knew that Jason Benson had more in mind than bottle feeding pups. The puppy on the counter top was squirming frantically, trying to free itself of Jason's hands and the empty bottle. Carolyn had the feeling that the small animal must somehow sense that she would supply its succulence. A shudder ran through her body and she stepped back away from the counter. Jason only smiled and returned the pup to the kennel.
"There are other benefits of bottle training," he continued, "which are even more in demand. Would you like to see a demonstration?"
Carolyn shook her head from side to side, but Jason ignored the movement and flipped the switch on a small wall intercom. "Mario?" He queried.
"In the kitchen, boss," came the soft-voiced reply.
"Would you come to the lab, please."
"I'm cutting up meat for the dogs," Mario answered, "Could it wait about five minutes?"
"I'm sure Miss Vance won't mind waiting," Jason chuckled into the speaker. There was an answering chuckle over the static background.
"I'll hurry, boss, wouldn't want to keep the lady waiting…"
Jason flipped the switch down and the static was gone. He turned back to Carolyn.
"Mario will be down shortly… meanwhile, I think it's time we began your basic training." Jason gestured toward her dress. His voice was sterile toned and clinical. "Would you remove your clothing, please?"
Carolyn stared at him, not believing what her ears told her was true. Surely this man could not expect her to casually disrobe before him?
Jason busied himself at the counter preparing another nipple-capped bottle. He poured in a meager amount of milk, held it up to read the measurement, nodded curtly to himself and screwed on the plastic cap which held the rubber nipple tight to the bottle. Then he turned around.
"I thought I told you to take your clothes off." His voice was harsh now, the painted-on smile of amusement gone. His voice cut into her hesitation like a steel saber plunged deep in her belly.
"What for?" Carolyn asked weakly, one hand clutching at the dress front.
"Never mind what for!" Jason's eyes narrowed. His hand flashed out and cracked across her cheek, hard.
"Ohhhh!"
"When a dog refuses a command, he is whipped." Jason pulled the long braided whip from the wall and tapped it impatiently into his other hand. "I hope it will not be necessary to demonstrate, Carolyn."
"You can't threaten me," she sobbed, rubbing the red marks which scored streaks across her pale face.
"Take off your clothes, Carolyn." Jason said coldly.
She cowered in the corner, trapped like one of Jason's animals between the counter and the wall while he stood firm on spread legs blocking the only escape. The whip slapped with clock-like regularity against his palm.
"Take off your clothes, Carolyn." He repeated as he dropped the loose end of the long whip and laced it across the floor, making it serpentine with soft scraping noises against the waxed gray tile. Suddenly he pulled the handle back and flicked the lash around her ankle with a jerk. She fumbled for her balance and grabbed at the counter for support. The whip coiled around her ankle like a steel snake, leaving a red brand wherever it touched, a brand that ran thick red blood and dripped upon the clean tile.
"Next time," he said ominously, loosening the whip lash with a quick motion of his wrist, "next time… higher."
Carolyn bit her lip to keep from crying out. There was a band of fire about her ankle and she could feel the warm drops pulsing out and puddling on the floor. Surely he had known her resistance was only token. She knew, more important he knew, she had admitted defeat the day she had watched those terrible films. Jason took advantage of every opportunity to nurture his cruel appetites. Carolyn refused to cry out with the pain. She refused to allow him that pleasure… and she began to unbutton the blue dress.