Wakefulness came slowly to DesirЋe long after the sun had risen and the sun was well on its way across the sky. Her eyelids felt puffy and moved open only with effort.
It was the pounding on the door that was cutting through her fantastic dream, and she shifted her body heavily on the sheets. She was in her own bed, there in her new home that she shared with Mark. Her hands traveled over her body, trying to wake her senses, to bring herself around from the fantasies that had been whipping through her dreams. Dreams of herself, Priscilla naked, dancing around with a camera, DesirЋe herself on her knees, peering back over her shoulder, over the raised mounds of her bottom, at Clete Anderson, his grimacing, big, white teeth cutting the lusting dark face in half as he pummeled her with his huge penis. She screaming, pleading, moaning. Coming, while the great cock spewed its virulent semen into her spasming cunt.
A dream.
But then her roving hands found the evidence that it could have been more than a dream in the heavily-crusted, glue-like residue matting the lush pelt of her pubic hair, down there by her strangely numb and satisfied pussy. She had been fucking – with someone! Was it really Clete? The thought caused her to shudder.
The knocking at the door went on. DesirЋe peeled her damp body off the sheet, shrugged on her rob, and shuffled unsteadily to the door. Clete Anderson! Making love to her? Making her come? Was it possible? She shook her head and opened the door.
"We were worried about you, Dezzy," Tanya said from the porch, Rodney at her elbow. "You're late coming to see us."
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Tanya," DesirЋe apologized, pulling the robe closed around her bosom. "I must have overslept."
"Overslept!" Tanya reproved good-naturedly. "It's three o'clock."
"Three o'clock?" DesirЋe was shocked. She had never slept so late in her life.
"We were going to lunch, remember?" Tanya waited for some reply from the beautiful girl. "Dez, are you all right?"
DesirЋe stepped back and let the pair in, falling tiredly back on the sofa, the robe riding up and not covering her creamy thighs properly. Rodney was trying not to notice.
"DesirЋe," Rodney said. "I've got to meet some local people. This magazine article could turn out to be something really big."
"Article?"
"Yes, of course," Rodney said. "The story about the dog raping women. Remember? Well, he's struck again. But this time it's murder."
DesirЋe stared at him blankly, a cold chill creeping up the back of her neck.
"Haven't you heard?" Tanya asked incredulously. "The dog. He's killed a man."
DesirЋe groaned in terror. He, Lobo, who had had sex with her just a month previously, had killed a man.
"Tore him limb from limb," Rodney said. "I was out there today. I took this picture." He handed it across to DesirЋe. "I hope you won't be too shocked, but maybe now you'll understand that it's for real."
With trembling fingers, DesirЋe took the color blow-up that the young man had just developed in his own portable darkroom. After the briefest glance, she dropped it as if it was a hot iron. She began to shiver all over, even in the heat of the day. She had recognized Johnny Canning, the young man who had raped her before her wedding, just five weeks ago. She remembered her fear at the time, his pimply, grinning face, his heaving body and thrusting cock that had ultimately made her feel such pleasure, that had left her excited and vulnerable to the dog that had invaded her room just after that.
"Dez, are you all right?"
DesirЋe came back from far away. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine."
But it was obvious that she was not all right. Rodney could see that she was shaken, and her robe had separated over her thighs and between her carelessly parted thighs, he could see the honey-brown curls of her moist pussy; he shook his head and looked away, again conscious of the feelings he had once entertained for her from afar. Tanya was concerned and walked over to her friend, discreetly pulling her robe back over her creamy thighs.
"Darling," Tanya cajoled, stroking her friend's face with a tender hand. "You've got to pull yourself together. Mark will be back in a few days."
The blonde looked into her friend's eyes, and then her face crumbled into despair. The recollections of the night before came back vividly, her unforgivable behavior and what she had allowed Clete Anderson to do, with her full encouragement. She remembered it all, the black sheriff behind her, shafting her tender body in the most indescribable way with his giant sex organ. It was all true, she now knew, it had happened, and the reality overwhelmed her like a tidal wave.
Tanya saw DesirЋe's pretty, blue eyes turn up while the girl keeled over backward in a faint.
DesirЋe came around feeling so warm and cozy. Warm water. Warm, warm water. Tender, feminine hands on her body.
Rodney stood in the doorway, stroking his red beard, watching the blonde's lovely breasts bobbing among the bubbles on the surface of the bath water. His eyes were drawn to the silken-haired pussy where Tanya was soaping away the wispy, white streamers of some viscous, pearlescent stuff that was leaking out of the girl's pink cuntal slit into the hot water, something that looked suspiciously like semen. But how could that be? Mark had been away last night, so who could have been doing the duty? No, impossible. They'd just got married and DesirЋe, like most women, was fastidiously faithful. No, he shouldn't be looking and seeing things and jumping to conclusions. But he smiled at himself, for that was his business. Seeing things and getting suspicious and jumping to conclusions. Writing interesting stories, whether they were entirely accurate or not.
Rodney turned away, berating himself as he walked into the living room to leave DesirЋe with her privacy. Damn me, she's a friend, he thought. Here he was, speculating on some white stuff floating in the bath water between her knees. Had she been raped by a dog, that wild dog, last night? He surely couldn't write that about DesirЋe while he was staying in her good parents' home.
Tanya noted Rodney's departure while she tenderly soaped and rubbed DesirЋe's slippery genitals. The labia, she noted, were rubbed a bit raw and the clitoris was swollen and throbbing.
"Baby," the older girl said. "I'm washing your hotspot 'cause I found something there. Is there something you want, or need, to tell me, Dez?"
DesirЋe looked at her girlfriend with clouded eyes, full of emotions flashing between pain and guilt and something else that looked to Tanya like lustful deviltry. She let the older girl kiss her forehead and whisper in her ear.
"Was it the dog?" Tanya asked conspiratorially. "Was it Lobo?"
At mention of Lobo's name, DesirЋe's eyes flashed in alarm.
"I know about him," Tanya whispered. "I know about Lobo. I know it's true." She stroked the blonde's breasts and belly. "I know it's true. I know. Was it him? Was it Lobo?"
DesirЋe burst out sobbing, then shook her head. "No, not him." She looked down at her tender, defiled body and blinked. "Not this time. Something – someone else."
Tanya's eyes widened and DesirЋe gripped her friend's arms, her big tits clearing the surface of the water. "Mark must never know. Never! Something happened last night, but I didn't know what I was doing. Not at the time."
"Tell me, baby," the brunette said sympathetically. "Tell me all about it."
DesirЋe's hand gripped Tanya's wrist in desperation. "Mark must never know."
"You can trust me, Dez."
"It was Priscilla and Clete. The sheriff. I don't like him." She took a breath and her breasts quivered. "Last night. I think they gave me something. I think they drugged me."
"Oh, you poor darling!" Tanya said, cradling the pretty, blonde head against her shoulder.
"Priscilla," DesirЋe said. "She must have given me something. Then Clete came, out of nowhere. And did it to me. From behind. From behind, like a dog."
Tanya looked into DesirЋe's beautiful eyes, questioningly.
"From behind," DesirЋe choked. "Like a dog. Like Lobo."
And the two girl's eyes locked in mutual understanding. Tanya nodded, kissing DesirЋe's tear-streaked face. "I know, Dez, what you mean. I know!"
Together the girls wept and cuddled. Tanya kept the warm water flowing until DesirЋe was ready to get dressed. Of course, DesirЋe was fine. The drug had worn off, her body was strong, and she actually felt wonderful. Physically, she felt wonderful, her sex drive having been lavishly fulfilled the night before, harmlessly and yes, passionately. Once she was dressed and feeling normal again, she found that she felt very well.
Suddenly she was dancing around, for some unknown reason, happy. She felt vibrant and her womb inside her glowed with the feeling only a woman has when sexually fulfilled. Clete was a bastard and a rapist, but he had done something to her, in his savage, animal way, that had only been done once before. The other time it had been – Lobo!
Lobo!
The phone rang.
Rodney was nursing a beer on the sofa as DesirЋe went to the phone. Mark! She wanted to speak to Mark. It had to be Mark. She wanted him back with her now. There was nothing she wanted more, nothing she would ever want other than her loving husband Mark.
Mark!
"Hello, Mark," DesirЋe almost sang into the receiver.
There was a pause before the called spoke. "No, DesirЋe. It's not Mark. It's Dr. Hemmings."
DesirЋe stiffened. "Oh, Dr. Hemmings," she said, trying to sound casual and unconcerned, her voice shaking. "How are you?" It was all coming back to her now, one terrible experience forgotten, now, with Hemmings' call, another remembered. The day in Hemmings office, the thing that had driven her to beg Mark to marry her with so little wait or preparation.
"I'm fine, DesirЋe," said Hemmings, his voice neutral, inscrutable. "It's you that I'm worried about, my dear."
DesirЋe paused. What was coming now? "Oh?"
"Yes," the doctor-cum-preacher said softly. "I'm very concerned, especially with Mark away in the capital." There was a long pause while DesirЋe asked herself if somehow Hemmings had found out about what she had done last night. "It's concerning the specimen I took when you were last in my office."
The innocent girl's eyes widened. "Specimen? What specimen?"
"DesirЋe," Hemmings said smoothly. "When you were here last you told me about the rape and, as a responsible physician, I took a specimen. What I've found is quite startling. I think you should come in and talk to me about this. I'm very worried."
"Worried? Why?"
"I think you should come in. You might have been exposed to some animal diseases you wouldn't want Mark to find out about."
DesirЋe was trembling violently and her two guests surrounded her and put their arms around her to steady her.
"Diseases?"
"DesirЋe, in the specimen, we found animal sperm. Dog sperm."
Of course they had, DesirЋe thought jarringly. It had been Lobo who had come in her so strongly that she had thought her belly would burst. It had been running out of her the whole day. And Hemmings had found it! He knew! And if he knew, then others could find out. Other people. Her mother and father. And Mark!
Mark!
"What do you want?" DesirЋe asked timidly.
Hemmings didn't answer immediately, and when he did, it was still the speech of a doctor and a man of the cloth. But the words were frightening, as innocent as they sounded. "I need you to come in to see me, dear. This evening. We wouldn't want Mark to find out about this specimen. Would we?"
"N-no," she hurried to say. "No, we wouldn't."
"He wouldn't understand, would he?"
"No," DesirЋe agreed. "He would never understand."
"Shall we say seven o'clock?"
"Y-yes, that would be fine."
Unsteadily, DesirЋe hung up.
"Who was that, Dez?" Tanya asked. "You're as white as a sheet."
Sheet? That's where all her problems started and ended. On sheets.
"I'm o-okay, Tanya," DesirЋe said, none too assuredly.
The phone rang again, and this time it was Mark.
"I've got to get back and raise a bounty on that damned wild dog," Mark griped. "You might have heard that he's killed a man now, and, from what I'm told, the town is on the verge of panic."
"Hurry home, darling," DesirЋe urged him.
"I'm be home in the morning, Dez. Keep the bed warm."
DesirЋe gave a bitter little laugh as she hung up.
Hemmings hung up his phone and turned to his companion, an overweight man with a balding head and a cigarette on a long, black holder.
"She'll be here in a couple of hours. You're sure you can do this?"
The fat man nodded.
The doctor/preacher sighed. He knew that what he was doing was wrong, evil, but he was powerless to resist his impulses. He adored the young, blonde soprano with the perfect skin and body. He had to have her, not just once or twice, but regularly, and if she could stand the touch of the wild dog, she could stand the touch of the doctor. And this man, this psychiatrist, would have the means to ensure that she came back to him again and again.