CASE 4 — Bryan T.
Bryan was an orphan boy. He spent his early years being shunted about from one city foster home to another. Then at age fourteen he was sent to live with an elderly couple on a suburban farm.
He seemed happier on the farm than he had ever been in the city. He had always been a 'loner' who feared crowds, and he enjoyed being by himself all day long on the quiet farm with no one to disturb his peace.
He was assigned chores to do around the barnyard which included feeding the large flock of chickens. He found the hen house a perfect hideaway and he spent many hours there among the chickens, shut away from the world.
In his shy and solitary life up to that time, he had had no association with girls at all. He felt no particular attraction to them and was very shy in their presence, as he was with most other boys as well. His only sex experience was in emotionless mechanical masturbation, apparently without any fantasizing in his mind during the act.
Now in his hen house hideout, he resumed his city habit of prolonged, methodical masturbation sessions, manipulating his penis with a wide variety of cock-teasing materials held in his hand. In the city he had made use of fur-pieces, foam rubber scraps, and wads of modeling clay, among other things, in his prick-fondling rituals. On the farm he first tried masturbating while holding a wad of chicken feathers in his hand, and that led to the idea of actually holding a live chicken against himself and rubbing his prick-head on her downy breast, or perhaps squeezing off underneath her wing.
These tries proved disappointing however, and it was not until several days later that begot the idea of trying to poke his penis up into the chicken's 'egg-laying hole'. This idea, which he imagined that no one had ever thought of before, occurred to him during the night while he lay in his bed, and he crept downstairs and out of the house to the chicken yard to put it to immediate test.
In the dark hen house he plucked a dozing pullet off her perch and began probing her underside with his fingers, looking for the entryway that had to be there, but the outraged bird raised such a clatter of protest, stirring up all the other chickens in the coop to a considerable clucking uproar, that the old man was awakened and he came hurrying down to the yard, expecting to catch a chicken thief in the act. Bryan escaped into the barn undiscovered and hid out there until his foster father had gone back to bed. Then he crept back to the house, discouraged for the moment in his plan.
But the next day, as soon as the old man had left on his daily trip to town, Bryan hurried to the chicken house to try his luck again at the great experiment. He knew that the old lady was too deaf to hear anything that went on, no matter how much noise the chickens made.
He picked out a fat Rhode Island Red, found the cavity he was looking for, and with some difficulty worked the head of his prick up inside. The bird struggled violently, but Bryan held her fast and slowly plunged the full length of his eager cock up into the warm, throbbing guts of the squirming chicken. He felt an excitement greater than he had ever known before in any masturbation experiment, and as he thrust in and out of the bird, her wings beating against his groin and balls added extra zest to the business and he came quickly to orgasm.
As soon as he had shot off his load inside the chicken he released her, but she dropped down at his feet and lay there, fluttering more and more feebly. Bryan realized for the first time then that he had done serious damage to the bird's inner organs and that he had better dispose of it. So he killed it with a rock and then dropped the body down into an abandoned well where no one could ever find it.
He was frightened and sorry at having killed the chicken, and for several days afterwards he lived in fear that someone somehow would find out what he had done. Above all he did not want to be sent back to the city again so he vowed to himself that he would take no more reckless chances and never bother the chickens again.
But then, as more days passed and life went on as usual, he began to realize that there were far too many chickens in the flock for the loss of one or two to be noticed. And the voluptuous experience of fucking the warm, throbbing body had been too much of a rare pleasure not to repeat.
So he did it again that same afternoon, trying to be more gentle in his penetration and so not to injure the bird this time, but the end result was the same. Again he threw the body down into the old well-shaft.
After that it became a regular habit. He fucked at least one chicken a day and sometimes two. Since he realized now that the penetrated chickens could never survive the act, he no longer tried to be gentle with them, but got more and more enjoyment out of fucking each bird with greater and greater violence, thrusting his prick in and out with all his force and at the same time tearing out handfuls of feathers and squeezing and wrenching its neck about. Sometimes he would break the chicken's neck or cut its throat while he was still in the process of fucking it and continue ramming into the dying carcass while it quivered and thrashed about in its death throes.
He had no idea whether or not the old man had noticed that his chicken flock had dwindled in numbers, but he overheard him one day telling his wife that, "there's gotta be a chicken thief sneaking around here nights. We're gonna have to get us a big, noisy dog."
Then an unexpected complication entered the picture. The old man's sixteen-year-old niece came to stay at the farm for the summer. Deanna was a jolly, uninhibited girl and she tried hard to make friends with Bryan. He was terrified of her however and avoided her as much as possible.
But she was the kind of bold person who has no understanding or respect for shyness in others and she chased after him wherever he went and drove him into a state of panic. He had never known anyone in all his life who cared enough about him to want to pursue him for any reason. Everyone had always ignored and avoided him, and he had adjusted to that situation and assumed that it would always be so.
Even in his sacred hen house sanctuary he was not safe from her insistent pursuit. She soon discovered that Bryan spent most of his days hiding there and she teased him about it and gave him no peace from then on.
"What do you see in those stupid chickens?" she said to him. "I think you're in love with them or something."
He had no chance anymore to indulge his chicken-raping habit, as Deanna was always about and she would have heard the commotion in the hen house and come to see what he was up to.
So, cut off from his sexual pleasure and under constant harassment from the pesky girl, he grew more and more nervous and desperate, while he joylessly masturbated in his room.
But then, to his great delight and relief, Deanna began going to town with her uncle on his daily trips and all of a sudden Bryan was alone with his chickens again and free to resume his bestial pleasures.
For the next few days he enjoyed frantic ecstatic orgasms — greater than ever before — and five more chicken carcasses wound up down in the well.
But then, one horrible day, he was just commencing his mid morning lust-ritual in the hen house, kneeling naked on the floor, fitting his straining prick up into one more protesting cloaca, when a shrill feminine whoop of surprise split the air, and with sick horror he saw Deanna's big blue goggle-eyes peeping through the slats of the wall, spying on his shameful game.
He let loose the chicken and sank down weakly in the straw, uttering a pathetic moan of dismay. He assumed that this was the absolute end of the world for him.
But Deanna, it turned out, was more amused than shocked. She came bursting into the hen house.
"Wow!" she cried. "This is freaky. I never would've imagined."