They crept past the reptile habitat, past the monkey cage, the otters, and the giraffes, before a heavy roar announced their arrival at the lions cage.
“Dump him in! Throw his ass in there!” Sandy ordered excitedly, already stripping out of her clothes. The zoo attendant walked over and opened the side door, carrying Bruce into the hallway and back to the rear of the cage. The lions could smell the blood leaking from the wound in Bruce’s scalp. They immediately began to crowd against the bars of the cage.
When Bruce’s body finally squeezed through the trap door into the cage the lions immediately began to fight over his flesh, snarling savagely as they tore off the choice pieces of meat. Deliriously horny, Sandy tore off the zoo attendant’s shorts and began swallowing his dick. Naturally, she’d brought along her dildo and was furiously fucking herself with it as she sucked him off, staring into the cage as the huge alpha male fought back the other lions and turned toward Bruce, who was now conscious, grievously injured, and screaming his lungs out. Sandy took that massive cock all the way down her throat while swirling her tongue around the tip. Her eyes teared up as she fought the gag reflex, allowing the thick foot long member further into her gullet while he dug his fingers into her hair and thrust even deeper, raping her esophagus. Sandy, gagging on the massive dick and loving every minute of it, tickled his balls with her long manicured nails and slipped a finger into his anus to massage his prostate, causing her lover to immediately cum in a molten torrent. Warm semen filled her mouth, spilling out over her chin and down over her lovely breasts as the fearsome cat ripped open her husband’s stomach and began tearing out and consuming his organs with his terrible blood-soaked fangs.
“Oh God! Sandy! Help me! Help meeeeeeee!” Bruce screamed, beating at the terrifying beasts with his feeble fists, his strength bleeding out onto the hard concrete floor of the cage.
Her eyes went cold and ruthless as she watched her husband’s agony, still licking cum from her lips and from her lover’s cock then hot with passion as the sight of him being mauled by the pride of hungry lions further excited her. Sandy was in a frenzy of voluptuous rapture, her arousal rising in proportion to the lion’s bloodlust and, as usual, her beautiful obsidian stallion was still hard. He turned her around and slammed his tremendous organ into her ass, mercilessly fucking her tight anus.
“Oh yes! Yes! Fuck me harder! Harder!” Sandy went wild watching her husband scream and beg while the lions tore him apart and her lover ravaged her asshole.
“Oh God! Help! Noooooo! Arrrrrrrrgh!”
The lion tore out her Bruce’s throat and Sandy came, screaming, crying, hissing and cussing, as her lover filled her ass with his seed. A bright red arterial spray splashed across her face and Sandy came again as the lion cracked open her husband’s ribcage and savagely ripped out his heart.
She fell back onto the hard floor, panting breathlessly as her beautiful black Adonis withdrew his spent organ from her ass.
“You don’t love me do you?” he asked.
“What? What the fuck are you talking about?” Sandy asked still winded from her orgasm.
“You don’t even know my fucking name, but yet you want me to share a murder rap with you? No way sister.”
“I know your name. You’re uh... um... Terrance?”
“Terrell! We’ve been fucking for almost a month and you don’t know shit about me!”
“What the fuck does it matter anyway?”
He grabbed her by her wrists, pinning both her arms together in one huge hand, and dragged her over to the feeding door.
“It matters to me,” he said. “See, there’s no statute of limitations on murder. A crazy bitch like you might suddenly get an attack of conscience and confess then I go down as an accessory to murder.”
“Why would I tell anyone? We’re in this together!”
“Yeah, but you’re a rich white woman and I’m just some broke-ass nigga. You could blame all of this shit on me and skate Scott free. There’s only one way that two people can keep a secret like this and that’s if one of them is dead.”
Sandy’s eye’s bulged in horror as she stared into the cage where the ravenous cats were busy working her husband’s flesh free from his bones. She began to fight and struggle, but Terrell was impossibly, hopelessly strong. He easily subdued her and the struggle caught the attention of the lions. Sandy trembled in horror as the lions crowded against the cage, licking their gore-streaked fangs; bits of blood, flesh, and sinew, still clinging to their fur.
Despite her terror, Sandy felt a tremor of excitement between her thighs and a salacious wetness at the prospect of being at the mercy of those beautiful, powerful, ravenous beasts. She began fucking herself with the dildo again. Terrell looked down as he heard her begin to moan and pant.
“You are fucking unbelievable!” He said as he watched her masturbate to her own imminent death. And with that he opened up the door and threw her into the cage.
Sandy screamed. This was nothing like her fantasy. Sandy spread her legs to offer her luscious pussy to her magnificent feline lovers and at first they licked obediently. She moaned and cooed, delirious with pleasure. Then they began to bite, tearing through her labia up into her ovaries. Sandy offered them her full round breasts and they slashed them with their claws. Ripping off her nipples and consuming her luscious mammaries.
Knowing this would be her dying act, her last chance to live out her fantasy, she reached out for the alpha male’s cock and began to suck him off. Sandy took his entire length down her throat even as the voracious cat burrowed his snout into her belly to consume her organs in a gruesome parody of a “69.” A roar split the night air as the big cat shuddered with a violent orgasm, filling her throat with lion semen and choking off her screams, even as he tore out Sandy’s liver.
Terrell took himself in hand and began stroking himself towards another orgasm as he watched his beautiful lover fulfill her fantasy.
Joey squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated hard. He was sick of being hurt, sick of being afraid. He had never been afraid when his dad was still around. He’d always felt safe wrapped in his father’s enormous arms. But now, it felt like he was always terrified, always being victimized, by the bullies at school, the bigger kids in the neighborhood, and, worst of all, the sitter.
Joey’s mother had bought him a dog after his father had left them to keep the house safe while they slept. A big Rottweiler named Hades who’d been Shutzhund trained at the same academy where they trained the police canine units.
“Who needs a man,” she’d said, “We’ve got Hades to look after us. She’s like a burglar alarm that bites!”
But Joey was the only one who needed protecting.
“Joeey? Joooooeeeeey?”
Her voice was malevolently sweet like Halloween candy filled with razors. Prickles of fear dashed the length of Joey’s spine raising goosebumps on the back of his neck and causing his scrotum to shrink up tight against him. An involuntary whimper escaped his throat and his knees began to shake. He could smell his own fear, an acrid musk like sweat and urine that made his eyes water and glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He was ashamed of his fear. Tears wept from the corners of his eyes and he wiped them away with the sleeve of his pajamas. He was determined to be strong.
Joey tried to tell himself that he had nothing to be afraid of. He had Hades there to protect him. But she was locked up downstairs in her kennel and he was upstairs. Alone. And the bad woman was getting closer. He could hear her.
“Joooey? Where are you little Joey?”
He tried to ignore that repulsive sing song voice. To shut out the sound of her stealthy footsteps creeping towards him down the hall, to steady his breathing, clear his mind, and reach out for Hades, downstairs in her kennel.
Joey had asked his mother to leave Hades in his room so she could watch over him. But the babysitter insisted the dog be locked up. Now he could hear the fat, perverted sitter getting closer to his door. He knew she’d be coming in soon
—to touch him. Joey quieted his thoughts and washed his mind clear.
“Help me, Hades.”
The huge Rottweiler sat locked in a cage downstairs in his father’s old den. Joey could feel her rage boiling up through the floorboards; feel it filling him, giving him strength. He could feel her breath, her heartbeat. He could taste the dog food stuck between her teeth; feel the long ropes of saliva drooling from the corners of her mouth. He could even feel the tick behind her left ear. Joey’s heartbeat sped up and fell in sync with the powerful metronome thundering in the big dog’s chest. His breathing grew deeper, huskier. A growl rumbled low in his throat.
Joey let himself slip away. He concentrated on his monstrous pet until everything else disappeared. Until he felt their consciousnesses merge. Joey’s bedroom doorknob turned. The babysitter was coming.
“Where are you Joeeeey?”
Hades went wild. Savage growls and barks echoed from down in the den. She wanted to protect him, to keep the bad woman from hurting him. Joey knew the big dog would’ve torn the babysitter apart if she could, if she weren’t imprisoned. The dog’s thoughts filled his head with images of ripping flesh, crunching bone, severed arteries and ligaments. The dog’s muscles tensed, her massive jaws clenched as her lips pulled away from her fangs and her snout wrinkled into a snarl. She lowered her head toward the floor with her ears flattened back against her skull and paws splayed out in front of her, preparing to launch forward and pounce on her prey. The doorknob continued to turn.
“Help me. Help me. Help me.”
The growls and snarls grew louder.
“Shut the fuck up, you stupid dog!”
The babysitter’s voice was so close now. The door opened and the obese woman shambled in with the light from the hallway silhouetting her massive form. Her balloon-like breasts were perched atop a leather corset, squashing her bloated mammary glands up around her neck. She wore a leather harness around her waist that wrapped up between her titanic cellulite smothered thighs and held a lethal looking plastic phallus.
“It’s playtime, Joey.”
The babysitter grinned lasciviously as she waddled towards the bed with her artificial penis slapping one thigh then the other. But her smile fell hard and shattered into a scream when she spotted the big dog snarling at her from Joey’s bed. Eyes catching moonlight and twirling it around its retinas like a kaleidoscope beneath a brow furrowed with rage. Muscles bunched up beneath its fur. Saliva dripping from long curved fangs glowing luminescent in the scant light. The huge Rottweiler sprang from Joey’s bed and locked its jaws on her throat.
Joey wasn’t afraid any more. He was ferocious as he tore into his tormentor. His mother had been right. Hades had protected him. She had given him her strength. Joey tasted blood as his fangs crunched down on the babysitter’s windpipe and tore it free.
Freddy was bored again. Slowly he slid slivers of wood into his anus shivering as the pain lanced up through his spine. He wasn’t quite sure why he was doing it, but he had nothing better to do and it did take his mind off the soul numbing boredom of his life. He’d read that they’d found six-inch metal pins embedded in Albert Fish’s rectum when they examined him after his capture. Freddy couldn’t find any pins that long, but he did have some pretty long sewing needles. They didn’t give him the same type of chills the splinters did though. The splinters set all his nerves on fire. Today, however, they just weren’t doing the trick.
Freddy started to chew his nails, but there was no nail and little flesh left on his half-cannibalized phalanges. White bone stuck out from the top of each savaged finger. Freddy started chewing bits of dried and dead skin from his index finger wincing every time his teeth scraped bone. That’s when he heard the dog; that over-sized, arthritic, asthmatic, poodle with the bleeding sores, and the whooping cough, that seemed to have been around forever. It was still alive! Freddy cursed aloud and slapped his hands over his ears to block out that horrible sound. Still, he could hear the dog’s phlegm choked, tubercular cough coming from the next room, followed by a hoarse ragged bark that lead predictably back to a fit of coughing. Freddy wanted to yell at the dog to spit that damn phlegm out instead of continuing to swallow it. Just the thought of it made him ill.
That wet strangled cough was the worst sound Freddy could imagine. It made his stomach roll with nausea and grated on his nerves making him want to scream. Freddy began nervously chewing at his own bleeding nubs ignoring the sharp prickles of pain that each bite sent through his nervous system.
Freddy blamed all his obsessive compulsive behaviors on that mutant poodle. He had been torturing it for years and still it would not die. It still whispered in his ears every night; planting post-hypnotic suggestions like...shove splinters in your anus or chew off your fingertips. He hated the thing.
Once, Freddy had been looking through an old photo album and had been surprised to see that damned dog in almost every picture going back to his great-great grand mother. He could not help but to think about David Berkowitz, the Son of Sam, who had claimed that his neighbor’s dog was a thousand-year-old demon who ordered him to kill. His grandparents had once lived next door to the Berkowitz family. They’d lived there right around the time the Son of Sam was rampaging across New York. Freddy was afraid that soon the dog would have enough control over him to make him a murderer too. He had to kill the thing. He’d taken a knife to it again yesterday yet the thing was still breathing and barking and coughing and eating and shitting all over the house!
Determined to end the poodle’s dominion over his life, Freddy leapt from his bed, wincing as the needles in his asshole dug in deeper. He carefully bandaged his fingers; wrapping each torn appendage with pieces of toilet paper, not noticing that they were just as quickly bleeding through the makeshift Band-Aids. No more poison, no more guns, no more knives. Freddy would make sure the thing did not survive. He would burn it to death!
Freddy opened the door to his bedroom and walked out into the hallway, cursing aloud as he stepped directly into the wet, green and brown feces that covered every floor surface in the house.
“Fucking dog.” He growled to himself.
He had to cover his face with a bath towel as the horrible, rancid pork smell of the half-dead, diseased dog, mixed with the smell of feces and roared up his nostrils, down his throat and into his stomach where it caused a tidal wave of bile and stomach acid. Freddy paused for a second as he fought to keep the wave from rising up his throat. Once his stomach was settled, he cautiously negotiated the obstacle course of dog shit and made his way to the kitchen where he knew the terrible creature would be.
“Hi Mom.” Freddy said and dutifully bent over to plant a kiss on her withered cheek. The movement disturbed the legion of flies that had been planting eggs in her eye-sockets and feeding on the cocktail of bodily fluids evacuating her body. Her hair was moving, alive with maggots and still more flies. Her entire body was vibrating, seething with activity as dozens of carrion eating parasites were busily eating away at her flesh, taking her down to the bone.
Freddy yelled and kicked at the dog when he noticed that it had chewed off another of his mother’s feet, taking most of the flesh from her one remaining shin as well. The dog yelped and retreated, dragging yards of bluish purple intestines with it from where Freddy had tried to disembowel it last year. As it barked, its brain flopped back and forth, threatening to spill from its exposed brainpan. Freddy had taken a few swings at it with a baseball bat sometime around Christmas. Its matted and filthy white fur was dotted with red from all the bullet holes Freddy had put into it over the years, and the hilt of a carving knife still protruded from its throat from Freddy’s recent attempt to saw the thing’s head off.
The hideously grotesque canine growled at him and backed away as he approached, limping and tripping over its intestines and leaking blood and bile all over the linoleum floor, adding to the mess already left by the piles of excrement from both the dog and Freddy’s dead mother. Freddy could still remember the floo
d of urine and...and shit that had released from his Mom’s bowels when he shot her as she tried to protect that damned poodle.
“He’s been in the family forever! You can’t kill it!”
“I know it’s been here forever and don’t you think there’s something wrong about that? The damned thing won’t die! Just look.” He pointed the .357 Smith and Wesson revolver at the over-sized mutant poodle and his mother bent down to shield the thing. The bullet entered somewhere around mid-back and exited her solar plexus in an explosion of gore. She sat at the table, smoking one of those cheap generic cigarettes that smelled like charcoal and berating him for being a failure as a son as she bled to death. He listened to her vituperative tirade, each venomous word barely squeezing out between wheezing, whistling breaths from her ruptured lungs as they filled with blood and she slowly drowned. Her last words were something like:
“You pathetic waste of life! You should’ve been a stain on your daddy’s sheets! And don’t you dare hurt my dog!”
Immediately, Freddy had increased his efforts to kill the thing. The canine abomination was now feeding off the only thing in the house that had ever loved it.
“Ungrateful son-of-a-bitch! And she tried to protect you!” Freddy yelled.
The dog sat and began licking its ass in response.
There was a can of lighter fluid in the pantry and Freddy bent to retrieve it. The dog began to howl and bark before succumbing to a horrific fit of coughing. It scrambled to the back door and scratched at the cheap aluminum, trying to claw right through it to freedom. It could sense that Freddy was up to something.
Freddy had the lighter fluid, the automatic log lighter and a devilish gleam in his eyes. He backed the dog into the corner and began dousing it with the accelerant.
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