Date: Sun, 26 Dec 2010 10:50:51 -0600 From: bowwowoyo@hotmail.com Subject: Me And Pup, Tripping Disclaimer: This story contains explicit descriptions of zoophile lovemaking. If you are not of legal age to be reading this, please exit this archive immediately. If you are, enjoy! ONE: Me And Pup, Tripping Note: the tape I refer to below is one of the cassettes I use to record zoophile and other kinds of sexual activity I engage in. I inadvertently stepped on it, but was able to carefully put if back together, and it still works! 1. I have put the tape back together, and I am going to be able to write the account of the very young male-- didn't have baby teeth, but still a puppy-- that I made love with this winter several times, including my first zoophile LSD trip. It is this great trip that will set the stage for my own dog ownership, and in seclusion I will be able to bask and wallow in zoophile LSD ecstasy, locking mouths and dicks and cunts and buttholes with my doggy lovers, being our doggy selves. I shall not take this tape out of the recorder until I have thoroughly written the account of the lovemaking on it. I was incredibly horny all day, but I had held off masturbating to orgasm because I knew I was going to take a good big LSD trip that night. I took about 6-8 hits of LSD, and after coming on, I was emboldened to walk over behind the vacant house across the street and continue to the yard where this brown mongrelish puppy had already come and kissed with me. It was another of these dream zoophile opportunities: the house where this dog was being kept was vacant. I was again the taboo dogman, the Creature Of The Night who searches out animals and wallows with them, wherever they are. Stumbling a little, yet clearheaded notwithstanding the LSD frenzy I was in, I traversed the yard that would get me to this puppy's pen. I had to have him in my house, where I could grunt and whine and bellow into his mouth and butthole. When I got to the dog's yard, he was incredibly excited. After making out for a minute or so, I looked around and seeing no one, reached down (the fence was in disrepair, so I was able to lean down quite low) and lifted Pup, who probably weighed 25 pounds, out of his yard. I carried him gently in my arms, which he tolerated superbly, never a wiggle or a whimper, the 50 yards across the back lot of my street's vacant house, through its own useless, broken aluminum gate, and across the street to my house, which I had left unlocked for my return with my doggie lover. 2. In the warm house, overwhelmed by the hot, sweet LSD rush, I stripped off my clothes and invited Pup onto my sofa with me. "I am now about to have the dogsex of my life with this little puppy here," I declared. "Come on, puppy! Come on up here!" I encouraged, slapping my butt, and he hopped up with me, puppy face smiling. I had my mirrors set so that most of the time, when I wanted to, I could watch the depraved, naked, redfaced masturbator with a dog's mouth or butthole locked to his mouth. The tape starts with a huge long makeout, five minutes or more. "Ahhhhoooohh, making love with my boy," I said as I wallowed my mouth in Pup's. "Dyyahhdyahhdnyahhndnyahh! oh yeahheahhh, what a bloy." "Come here, boy! Come 'ere! You'll find out what you want in there." I hadn't dog-proofed the place, and I was thinking about the kitchen. He needed some corraling. "C'mon up here!," I urged. "Wlahwlahwlahhwwllahhhhyahyahyahyahyayayaya jyalhalyaahalyahllaaahlalalah dyadyadyadyadyaahdyaahhhdlyaa! NNnnn nnn nnn oohhh eeehhhh yeahhhhh," my voice sounded as our mouths interlocked, crosswise and deep. Pup was eagerly licking out the back of my mouth, and I tongued and tongued his tongue, teeth and gums as he dug into me. "Oohhh, making love with my boy, "I revelled, and locked mouths again with Pup. "What a good boy! Yeeaaahh-- aahh yeeess, yeees ye-e-ess," I went on, and then went back to mouthing. This side of the tape captures the essential LSD dogsex experience, minus the fucking, of course. More often than not, it is sufficiently recorded, and there is a complete passage where you can hear every squish of our mouths together, sometimes hear the slurping of Pup's tongue, around and through my ecstatic gibbering. "Bvmnvmbmmpppmphmphmlupluplp-- Ohhnoyonoyonoyonoyonoyonoyonoyonoyonoyonoyyy!AAMmyyaahhmyayyamlyahhhmlyyahhnununununhh 3. grroouyoyloyloyllouylouy...loyylouyalouyealouyalouyalululhhluhhluhhhhh!" I gibbered, as we mouthed and mouthed each other. All circuits were now feeding back within me. Every breath I take on LSD gives me the chance to make the noises that stimulate my pleasure centers. Random, wordless, no-set-tone vocalizations help me relinquish control, at least for an occasional night. LSD accentuates the positive, no-strings-attached general sexuality-- pansexuality-- potential in me. I become Pan, sometimes more consciously than other times channeling the archetype. I am the absolute horny stud, without the inconvenience in bed of a pair of goat horns! At that point, I began blowing his very young but as yet still intact penis. I could get his whole dick and knot into my mouth easily. He wasn't quite cumming yet, I think, but it wouldn't be more than a few more months. But I blew him and blew him, once his penis was behind him in "tied" position, alternating with tonguing his butthole. Ten minutes in, I recognize the happy "mnibmnibmnbmnbmnbmnbmnb" of pure, focused butthole eating. "Ooooohh, what a good boooyyyy! Whaat a verry gooodd booyy," I droned, as each sound I made resonated in waves of pleasure through my penis. "Mmmmm nbmnbmnbmnbmnbmnb nibmnibmnibmnbmnb mnbmnb," I went on and on between ecstatic whines and gibbers of zoophile pleasure! I was tripping hard, and hadn't reached my peak yet, after 2 1/2 hours since taking the dose. I was having plenty of synesthesia going on, as sometimes my moans and insane babbling would seem to come from outside, then inside, then outside myself again. The resonances of my groaning, gibbering voice became colors. I was just letting the feeling, moment to moment, take control of my mental processes, and setting the constant intellectual inner dialogue aside, while making random wordless noises of penile ecstasy. Sometimes I was conscious that I was the ecstasy itself. Being the endless orgasm, and knowing that you are, now that's intimacy with yourself! 4. More than once I dug a finger into Pup's colon to get a fingerfull of dog butt taste, In one passage, my unintelligible moaning ends in the words "dog shit." I stuck my finger in his butthole and saw it come back brown, though not covered. I eagerly licked Pup's shit juice off my finger. Yuummm, I thought as I gibbered and dug into Pup's now shitty hole. "OOoooh, the dog taste. I love the dog taaaassste," I happily affirmed a minute later. This was quite well recorded butthole-eating and fingering. Pup quickly became a butthole-eating enthusiast. In complete arousal he would stand stifflegged, with his left leg in the air, so as (I suppose) to enhance the pleasure he was getting from my tongue digging into his bottom. And inevitably I returned to his mouth. And to long LSD-rush groaning and gibbering, as the heat rolled through my penis. "Duhduhduhduhduhduhduhhduhhduhhduhhhduuuhhdeeeduhhh, Awwwwhhh, daaaaaahhh DEEEeeeeeee!" I gibbered, stroking and stroking my loving penis, while staring into my own eyes, hypnotizing myself with the raw sexuality of my person and behavior, sometimes in position to watch Pup and I tongue each other. I'm not sure if it wasn't on the THIRD side of our intercourse-- I can't find that-- but there was one great time when I was watching my tongue in the mirror digging deep into Pup's lovely, funky, new, virgin butthole out of my sweaty, disheveled face, the taste of dog butthole a physical presence in itself. I hear myself suddenly muffling myself in the middle of this fervid rectum-tonguing, and I realize I am mashing my face against Pup's bottom, snuffling breath in with my nostrils against his perineum, breathing in eau de DOG! Looking back, I may have spent fully as much time with my tongue in Pup's butthole as in his mouth, but I can't be sure of that. "Auuhhauuhayeehhyehhyehhyehhhyeeahh, blow my Brownie's (the pup was light brown, with a 5. white paw or two) dick!" I heard myself say. And due to the drop in recording levels, I must have had to get out on the floor to blow him. He had a normal dog's explorative curiosity, but he stuck around pretty well, all told. I am going to somehow mend this tape, although it really shows no sign of quitting, even broken in two. There are numerous passages of well-recorded mouth-locking, even to the point that sometimes you can actually hear the licking and working together of our mouths. At the end of the first side, Pup panted happily-- his panting was scattered during our encounter. But he was panting, though I forget to say so, because I had my tongue working hard in that puppy rectum. The tell-tale "mnibmnibmnibmnibmnIbmnbnyubnyubnyubnyubnyub" is unmistakable. "Dyaahdididididyidyadyahhdyahhhhawwwwdyuhduhh-- ooowwwuh duuuuuhhhh deeeee," I babbled, lost in my lust for dog, and returned to kissing, and then spending a good deal of time encouraging the curious and wandering Pup to come back to bed. There was also, unusual on my animal sex tapes, a period where the squishing of my masturbation is evident. What is odd is that I appear to be masturbating silently, my pleasure turned into myself. Our excitement was growing. Come on over here," I sounded fierce. I was in my rut. I growled, and almost commanded, "Come on over here." Slapping my butt hard! Come on here..." and he did, and we started. Once I got Pup back where he belonged, we got deeply into mouthing. The next five minutes or so is the standard of recording I wish all others had reached. "Yeah, y' like that, don't you?" I asked, and went back for his mouth again. "What a good boy!" I whinnied. Pup barked, that bark that means "this is special!" "Yeaahh! Come oo-on, we can do!!" I implored him. Soon after, a particularly strong LSD wave of pleasure-- or, an adjustment upwards-- turned everything to sweetness. I was in 6. endless-orgasm territory, in which the whole body throbs with the feeling of orgasm, without the spasms of shooting. I have thought myself over the edge of ejaculation without masturbation from this point, but this time the happy results were that Pup came over and dug in, and the tape recorder just happened to be in the right place. "Wlbwlbwlbwelbbwelnwlnwlnwelwlhwuhwuh! Noyglonoylonolonoldngoylaglonoyllonoylaaaa," I babbled with Pup's tongue in my throat. We were making out like two schoolkids, or maybe with the intensity of an old sexpig and a preteen boy who likes what he's doing from the start. "Yeah, making doggy love all night long," I mouthed while licking Pup's willing mouth. "Doggy love all night looong!" I slobbered happily into Pup's face. "Aaaowwrwrr, just lockin and lockin and lockin mouths with this dog!" Dog mouth could swallow me whenever it wanted. Pan-- me-- was part of that dog, and the dog part of me. "OOOooohh, come HERE! Oooaaooww, come here Boy, come here and mouth ME!" I whined, and then in a different voice-- the phenomenologist's composed voice perhaps-- "Come here and mouth me." Later, at some point that Pup was not up, I lay in penile ecstasy. "I love my penis. Love my penis. Making love to my penis," I said with awe, as that miraculous part of me filled the rest with the warmest fuzziest, or warmest wettest-- whichever you prefer, I felt it all-- feelings a body can hold. I know plenty about Bardos and White Lights and such-- been there-- but in the end, what LSD is for me is the greatest enhancer of pure sensual pleasure known to man. I am a Dionysian, searching for the nexus of sense and spirit. And I find that place in LSD, and in this good old penis, the fount of my pleasure, long since recognized as my most powerful above-and-beyond-the-envelope bodily function. I can 7. sure get hard and shoot sperm, that has been less in question than anything else I can think of! "Yeaahh, you know it. You know it, Boy!" I said, in LSD paroxysms. I walked off for some reason, gibbering-- "Duuuuhhhdeeeeeduuuuuhhhhhh--deeeeee. Duuuuuhhhhdeeeeeeedduuuuh-uhhhh deeee-eee" in the distance. The "eeeee" sound particularly stimulates the sexual pleasure centers, and my smile gets even wider making that sound, while the "duuuuuhhh" helps to remind me that the intellectual in me is-- temporarily-- relinquishing control to the drooling degenerate, the dirty dog that lives within me in amity with the highbrow, but who waits patiently for the time that the human constraints on him are gone, and HE can be how I live and love . It is another example of the feedback mechanisms at work on LSD: we smile because we feel good. But we also feel good BECAUSE we smile, and the wider we smile, the better we feel. Soon, I came back, and Pup did too, and I tongued his butthole for the rest of the tape. "Mnibmnibmnbmnbmnbmnbmnbmnb! Ahhww, mlbmlbmlvbmnlb mlnbmlnvbmnvibmnibmnibmnibmnbmnbmnb!!" I bawled and slurped and wallowed my tongue in Pup's rectum as deep as deep can be. Pup was panting with the pleasure. Mostly, it was a kissing night. But, heck, it was an everything night. All and everything, making interspecies supersexual love all night long. In fact, after about two and a half hours of lovemaking, I inevitably picked up the puppy, cradled him lovingly in my arms, and returned him to his yard under secure cover of darkness and late hour. Rather unceremoniously. Pup had kind of a bump when he hit the ground on the other side of the fence. He looked at me, for the only time of the night, as to say, "sir, I don't understand this part," not the not-so-soft landing, maybe not the being returned at all. But he wasn't offended; we made love again several times, once in broad daylight because 8. of the effective concealment of the back porch where we hungrily shared each other. More on that anon. OOOooohhhh, Yeeeeesss, This is the life I am working to achieve: large and regular-- larger and larger!-- doses of LSD in solitude, or ideally with another dogman. Secure seclusion where I may go utterly to seed, lost in undisturbed zoophile wallowing, finally one of the pack of never washed, rowdy but gentle, shit-eating horny dogs in the dirt of our own kennel. And yes, I will consider my kennel to be my private asylum. Asylum, as a word, has some very distinctly different meanings. Most people think of the word "insane" in conjunction with "asylum", and they do so with a mixture of dread and derision, because all too often, in the past if not in the present, professional psychiatric care ended up with patients being worse. Now, some would undoubtedly say that my pica, my willingness, desire, to eat waste matter, earth, lick the dirt off dogs, et cetera, was the behavior of an insane man. Well, not in my case, because it is completely, and always will be, me, myself, that performs his own behaviors. God may work within or through me-- I'm a phenomenologist, anything is possible, and I have seen and taken part in miracles-- but no Satan, nor Illuminati, nor Lord Voldemort, fer Chrissake, is trying to hold us back. I love animals, and do anything else I do, because it is within me. No matter what the dosage, my mind is my own. I am not a puppet or a zombie. I know that my thoughts are all my own. Now, at retirement age, I am working towards being quietly able to disassociate myself from the old reality of ceaseless striving, and eat the dirt off of and out of my animal lovers for THE REST OF MY LIFE. And that will constitute the other major use of the word 9. "asylum": security from harm ensured by a higher authority than mere force. I shall not say the name of that higher authority, because I am too small to know it. But I believe-- the only belief I allow myself-- that the universe was formed by, and therefore consists of, intelligence rather than chaos. Occasionally, during the fair amount of time Pup spent exploring, You can hear the stroking of my penis! But this is just another aspect of what to remember to do while making tripping doggy love: don't forget to keep your penis well oiled up, slurpy and sonogenic! TWO: Outdoors With Pup ******************** The second side was not nearly as carefully recorded, and Pup was losing consistent interest, because there were other smells and curiosities to be explored. There were scattered places where I was obviously making out or tonguing him, but they were fewer. My LSD had plateaued by this point. I was still tripping after 5 hours, but I wasn't going to get any higher. There is a third tape, and it made up most of 2 hours of recorded lovemaking. But I don't remember if it has any great parts like Side One. I didn't cum during this whole time, unless I am forgetting an orgasm on the third tape. After I had taken Pup back to his yard, I bore down on myself, and squeezed out several huge, groaning orgasms-- three or four-- as the trip wound down from transcendental zoophile reality to mere horny, howling degenerate penis-stroker getting off again and again. I was drinking huge blasts of sperm from myself, the LSD still enhancing my orgasmic ecstasy! But I knew I was going to visit the puppy again, this time in his own yard. The time came two days later. I had nothing to do the next day, and so I awoke at nearly 5 in the morning, put on a set of dogsex clothes (which by now had all been washed, with 10. Boy and Girl gone), and sauntered over to the main road where Pup's house abutted. It was such a familiar trip by now. Pup's house was only three doors east of Dogsex House, where I had loved and licked with my Boy and Girl. The house had even a nicer security profile than their house! After taking my usual care that no one driving by actually saw me approach the building, I entered by the side-alley gate of the next door house, then all I had to do was climb over the fence of Pup's yard to get to him, and to a back porch with a 6-foot fence that hid three sides effectively from view. Only someone coming exactly north on the yard, right up to the porch, could see a man making love with a dog here. He was as excited as before. He'd obviously had a great time night before last. I unzipped my pants and salivaed up my penis, and after a relatively short make-out session, Pup actually turned his butt towards me. I took it as the invitation it probably was-- since he was already having his dogman lover's mouth-- and dived into his butt, stroking his flanks from behind, telling him softly how much I loved him. Pup swayed, panting quickly, on the three legs which held him up. His fourth leg was stuck out in the air. He had a relatively short tail, which I licked the base of occasionally, and then dug back into his rectum. I went from buttlicking to blowing him. I masturbated him until he was humping, and before it got too big, got the knot out of his sheath and in my mouth, with his penis in, but not very far down, my throat. After he was "tied", I alternated between sucking his dick and eating his butthole, which, though I may have seen no liquid from Pup's dick, pulsed like that of a mature dog in orgasm. If prepubescent dogs have dry orgasms, Pup was having one! 11. It was a little chilly, and I had gotten luxurious about my coconut-oil penis lubricant. My hand was dirty, so I had to add several lungers to masturbate freely. But eventually, after a half an hour of kissing and sucking and eating, I brought myself to as much of an orgasm as I could. Not the best, but any sacrifice, I said to myself, to tongue that lovely puppy rectum! I was determined to have Pup as often as possible, as long as he remained in his backyard pen. And when morning came the next day, I was emboldened by the effectiveness of the fence to seclude me from anyone who might conceivably come to or into the house. If I heard entrance into the front, I judged that I had plenty of time to pull up my pants, leap the fence (I had somewhat of a stile by a tree that helped getting out of the yard) and duck out the side alley. But no one seemed to be supervising this little mutt. So in broad daylight, in the middle of the morning, with a hoodie over my top so as to make identification difficult, I made my way again to the new Dogsex House-- if I were to find one more dog in a deserted lot, I believe I could start calling Berton Road Dogsex Street! I knew what I wanted, and that was butt taste. As soon as we took our positions on the porch, I made sure that I got a finger deep in Pup's colon, and when I pulled it out it was satisfyingly brown! "Lyoushlyouhshlgouhlgouhhhphligouhhpl!!" I licked and licked the lucky finger that had been inside Pup, and plunged it in for another taste of dog butt. Slurping that one off, I held his behind against my face and mashed my tongue just as deep as I could push it into Pup's rectum. I was doing my best to be completely silent, but an occasional low moan of passion escaped me. Oohh, dog shit. Scooping sweet hot dog feces right out of doggy butthole and eating it Wrrruufff!! The taste of his own shit didn't seem to deter him, as it once temporarily deterred Girl, 12. From plunging into more mouthlocking. My mouth moved seamlessly from butthole to mouth to penis, to butthole and back to mouth. Without a tape recorder, and outdoors, I mostly remained silent, and listened-- rather reflectively, since there was much of the human zoophile functioning compared to the inner dog, what with the not-completely-secure location-- to the rythmical slurp, slurp, slurp of Pup's tongue in my mouth, and the sounds that come from shared saliva sloshing around as our mouths worked together. I don't know if any dog will ever kiss me like Girl did. Oooohh, Girl... But Pup was surely into deep-mouthed cross-faced mouth-locking. And eventually-- I was probably there a little less than half an hour-- while tonguing Pup's pink butthole, I whipped this never-failing penis to as juicy an ejaculation as I had had in a week, cum not only spurting, but thicker than my usual rather watery (though extremely potent spermically) cum. The next time I went to the dogyard, a couple of days later, I found no dog. Whoever had been penning him had picked him up and left. Awww, I thought. The loss of this little buddy, though, was nothing like the disappearance-- which I knew, in my mind, to be inevitable unless I somehow was able to contact the owner, or penner, in less than incriminating circumstances-- of my dear Boy and Girl. Somehow, the fact that the house was burned and deserted (Dogsex House is slowly being rebuilt (apparently the fire didn't do terminal structural damage)-- that it was, effectively, the dogs' house, may contribute to the lasting void that I know will be filled by my next great doggie lover, who will be really and truly mine. I so miss those two dogs. Nobody could kiss like Girl. And nobody has ever been the all-around, ardent oral lover like my Boy. What didn't Pup do? Well, he never got into licking butthole. He took a few virginal licks at it, but clearly made the decision that he wasn't into it. He didn't lick my 13. dick, not even when I had oil or saliva on that. Most dogs love both, so it obviously wasn't a turn-on for him. And he wasn't interested in my cum, though to be fair it wasn't placed before him conveniently. And he's not ready to fuck, or be fucked, though his doggy memory will have what humping and tying are all about in it now. But this was real, authentic, unlimited dirty dogsex. Pup may never have the chance to experiment again. He may be castrated and past all sexual activity besides the kissing. So I'm glad he got to experience this as a boy, and I am confident that he looks back on the time he spent on Berton Road (and dogs do reminisce!) as a wondrous and unique one.