DesirЋe had no way of knowing that a good deal of Mark's resentment was against himself for being totally unable to defend her from the raping dog. For the first time in his life he had felt totally powerless to deal with his situation, and those emotions had been exacerbated by the way his angelic, blonde bride had surrendered to the stimulation and turned into a wild bitch in heat beneath the driving cock of the dog Lobo. Again and again, the sight of her grunting and squealing, her ripe body bucking and churning, her lovely face twisted with erotic passion induced in her by the raping penis of another male – not even a human male – impinged on his memories. Blaming his own weakness for what had happened to DesirЋe, he then turned his self-loathing against her even as the vivid tableau of her degradation flashed before his mind's eye and made him afraid that he could never look on her again as he had before.
The girl had no idea how to deal with the hurt Mark was feeling, though she could well understand his revulsion of her, for she felt it equally for herself. She had not expected him to defend her, unarmed, against the dog, and she had only submitted to save his life, for she knew that she could not live without him. If only he would forget the incident for just a while, take her in his arms and make love to her deeply, cleanse the corruption from her womb, and give their relationship a fresh start. Her body burned for the touch of his hands, his lips, and his hard, thrusting penis, but all those wonderful things had been withheld from her for the intervening week.
And, there was one other thing that nagged at her mind and her conscience, something that threatened her happiness even more than that incidence of Lobo's rape and that was the little party of drugs and sex she had been seduced into by her new "friend" Priscilla Devereaux. It had come at the wrong time for her, missing Mark while he was away in the capital and needing a friend after losing her feelings for Liz, who had owned the murdering, raping devil beast that had now twice violated her innocent body. Priscilla had drugged her somehow and led her into that orgy with the execrable Clete Anderson, the chief of police. What was worse, she had filmed the encounter while Clete had wildly shafted her from behind. A copy of the video tape had come through the door just two days later and now, somehow, Priscilla was planning to blackmail her.
Since Priss was wonderfully wealthy herself, DesirЋe was sure that the blackmail entailed some other thing besides money, though what she could not surmise yet. But Priscilla's phone call just yesterday had left her in no doubt as to the seriousness of the threat. Friend! Priscilla was nothing but a treacherous bitch whose friendship had lasted only long enough for her to get DesirЋe to compromise herself in the most serious way.
Shaking herself, the young bride offered her sweet lips to Mark for a goodbye kiss but was rewarded only with the usual cold peck on the cheek. As he walked out the door, DesirЋe dabbed at the tears on her cheeks and turned to the phone. She felt awful this morning. It seemed that she always had this splitting headache on Monday mornings, and though it seemed to pass by the evening, it worried her. If these headaches did not soon cease, she knew she would have to make an appointment with Pastor Hemmings, who was also the town physician. Picking up the phone, she dialed Dr. Hemmings' office and made an appointment for Wednesday at ten o'clock.
"So," Rodney said after making a note in his book, "this dog, Lobo, belonged to you before going on the rampage."
Liz nodded, taking a drag on her cigarette. "That's what they say. But whether it's my Lobo on the rampage or some other dog, I can't say for sure. He was always very gentle with me."
"And what about these allegations that he killed a young man and some cattle on a ranch near here?"
Liz laughed. "Have you ever known a German Shepherd to kill cattle? If you ask me, I'd say it was a hoax with my runaway pet as the scapegoat."
"If you don't mind my asking, Mrs. Clark, why did he run away?" Rodney pressed.
Liz looked down and her eyes clouded. "Someone here, someone I knew, brutalized him. He had to run away to avoid being killed. He never returned."
"I see," Rodney sympathized.
Tanya spoke up. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom, Liz?"
"Go ahead. It's down the hall on the left."
Tanya got up and while Rodney continued with the interview, she went down the hall to the end and opened the door on the right. The light was off and the room in shadows so she had closed the door before she noticed that she had turned in the wrong direction. Flicking on the light switch, she discovered the large bedroom and the open window. She was turning to leave when a horrifying sound froze her in her tracks. It was a sound she heard in her nightmares since she had come to Pickford's Meadows and had her own first experience with the horrible legend of Lobo. She had hoped never to hear that sound again, for she associated it with her sordid session with the wet-tongued dog that Rodney and Liz were talking about, an event that neither of them had the slightest knowledge of.
That day, on one of his regular runs in the cool whispering woods which bordered on the rear of the property, the dog found himself not far away from Liz's house. For him and his brothers, as well as his sire, Lobo, Liz's house was a kind of refuge now since the senior dog had led them back here to safety, away from the hunting parties led by the angry cop Clete Anderson. Liz had received them affectionately and supplied their needs and shooed them out the back to safety when danger was near. Now he saw another beautiful human female, and he had learned recently from his mistress Liz exactly what these hind-leg-walking females were for. He had been feeling the rut in himself and now Liz had sent him this gift. For a moment the big German Shepherd stood stock still in intense concentration. Then, as he saw Tanya moving to leave, he gave forth with another menacing growl.
The dark-haired beauty was almost out the door now, trying to leave him, but his menacing growl stopped her in her tracks. Tanya sensed his presence and turned around, giving a startled jerk as her eyes fell on him again.
"Oh, doggie," she breathed in a voice seeming to have lost all strength. "Excuse me, I was just leaving." Tanya's soft, throaty, tremulous voice encouraged the big animal to come nearer and he stopped right next to Tanya as she timidly extended a hand to rub his head. The motion of her arm made her taut full breast move sensuously and catch the dog's attention. Without hesitation, Bruno lowered his huge head beneath the girl's loose, summer skirt and then his long thick tongue shot out to lick hotly over the panty-covered mound between her thighs.
"Ahhh," Tanya gasped involuntarily as that thick wet tongue sent little shivers running over her sensitized flesh, and her nipples rose into hard little buds of desire. In utter terror, remembering her experience with Lobo just recently, the strength left her legs and she collapsed onto her soft, round buttocks.
"Oh, please, don't…" Tanya breathed.
Bruno backed away a moment, momentarily discouraged by the tone of Tanya's words. But he began to whine excitedly, his front feet doing a little shuffle that moved him nearer and nearer to the lovely body he had already tasted. Seemingly unable to control himself, the big shepherd locked his teeth on the front of her blouse and pulled, tearing the fabric away to bear the lovely mounds of her bosom, then laving his moist tongue over one tingling breast. Then he turned his attention to the other one. When Tanya crossed her hands over her breasts to fend off the big dog, Bruno snuffled a hot trail down over her smooth belly and then began to sniff excitedly at Tanya's skimpy panties where her skirt had flipped up, letting his nose slide all over the stunned woman's scantily covered loins.