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I couldn’t hardly believe it! I actually got selected for Summer Bible School. After months of hanging out at the Eighth Baptist Church Youth Group, it all finally paid off.

You see, I wasn’t really into the whole religion thing. At least not like at Eighth Baptist. I once got scolded for daring to question whether everything in the Bible was literally written by God. So why was I there?

Christer Eriksson was a member.

Dating was not easy for my kind, as my cousin Ida could most definitely attest, and she was even prettier than me. After the catalyst in the 1960s, humanity was joined by dozens of different hybrid species: two-legged horses, wolves, lions, you name it. For a tense decade, these anthros managed to claw their way up to second-class citizenship, and the Civil Rights Act of the 70’s helped a lot.

But if anthros were second class, taurs were third. Centaurs managed to fit in pretty well, but wolftaurs and cattaurs still got a lot of bad jokes. But the worst thing to be was definitely me - a dogtaur. Rare enough that most people hadn’t seen one, we hit the sweet spot for being extra animalish, but not having redeeming features from our animal. While people feared or respected wolves, people treated their dogs like sexless puppies.

I had the rather serious misfortune of replacing my human legs with the entire body of a Golden Retriever. How could I possibly be taken seriously? At least I wasn’t a short-haired breed, or I’d have to choose between wearing stupid looking clothes or walking around with my junk showing all the time.

But there was one boy who never pretended to throw a ball, or offer me dog treats, and that was Christer Eriksson. He was eighteen, like me, and didn’t have too many friends, like me. Only he didn’t have friends because he was a hardcore Baptist. Which was odd, because a little bit of God-talk seemed worth it for a boy who didn’t judge you by the color of your fur.

So when I found out that I got to be a Counselor alongside Christer, I couldn’t help but wag my tail, as much as I tried to control the damned thing. I hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask him out, yet, and I didn’t even know his stance on interspecies relationships, but anything that got me closer to Christer was a good thing.

I knew, at least, that he liked dogs, because he often brought his to youth group. Hedger looked like a cross between a whippet and a black lab, and seemed nice enough, for a dog. It probably helped that he was neutered, so he never took much notice to my heats, though I had to be ever vigilant to avoid an embarrassing sniff.

Wearing a nice sweater, I stuck the name tag to my chest: Vera Lukacevic. I’d spent the morning brushing all my hair, human and fur, into smooth, golden perfection. I tied my blond hair into a ponytail, letting my floppy ears hang neatly. The ears were the only dog-like feature above my waist, but I’d grown to like them. They often displayed emotion I’d otherwise feel too afraid to admit.

“Ready?” Christer asked, and I liked to think he was mostly talking to me, despite addressing all four of us. Ben Nielson and Ava Midner were also helping to wrangle the kids. About 90% of the camp was little human 10-year-olds, though I managed to glimpse a few anthros joining the noisy group. No taurs though.

“Yes,” I said, then blushed, realizing that the question hadn’t been meant to be answered.

Boy was I not ready. The kids were little monsters, running everywhere, getting into trouble, refusing to sit still for Bible lessons. Thank God for Duck, Duck, Goose and Simon Says, because by lunch their energy level had dropped considerably. My tail got stepped on three times! Still, the nice thing about Summer Bible School is that at four, all the kids go home and we get stuck cleaning up for the next day.

But that’s what I’d been waiting for. I followed Christer, offering to help with whatever he was doing, picking up litter, cleaning up the kitchen, straightening out the Bibles. I even offered to help him clean the boy’s bathroom, but he declined. I never enjoyed an hour of cleaning more.

“Okay, who wants to do the puppet show with me in two days?” Christer asked, and my hand popped up.

“Are you sure? This is your first year. There’s a lot of lines.”

I nodded. “It’s also my last year, though.” I had just graduated and was going to college in the Fall. “I can learn the lines, I promise.”

“Well, okay,” Christer said, understanding. “Here’s the lines, your parts in green.”

There were a lot of lines, but familiar ones. I’d grown up in the Lutheran church thanks to my parents, so there was a lot of overlap. I spent that night and the next memorizing every last word by Christer, and every first word for me, until a teleprompter would have been useless. I wasn’t going to let Christer down, especially on the second to last day of SBS.

It was the perfect day for a puppet show in the park. Eighth Baptist was within walking distance of a beautiful park with thirty-foot tall trees and carefully trimmed hedges and bushes and flowers, and childrens’ play equipment. After the kids burned all their energy injuring themselves on slides and tripping over sticks, we fed them sack lunches and sat them all in front of the old, church puppet stand.

It was a great venue, the old, stone structure curved to help direct the sound outward, with a big stage. The stand fit neatly on the stage, a makeshift box with a wooden stage of its own, and a black curtain to hide the puppet masters. I was grateful for the flimsy, wooden barrier. As much as I wanted to be doing this show, performing in front of three dozen ten-year-olds would make anyone nervous.

I immediately noticed the problem. Christer’d brought Hedger along for the day in the park, and the mutt never liked to be too far away from his boy. So Christer had tied him up on the left side of the puppet stand, behind the wide edges, but close enough that the whippet wouldn’t start to whine or whimper.

“Um, can I be on the right side?” I asked, ears flicking.

“What? That’s not what’s in the script.”

“I know, it’s just…”

How could I explain that if I were on the left, I’d spend the entire puppet show worrying about his dog sniffing my butt? The stand hadn’t been designed for taurs, so my back end would be sticking right out of the curtain.

“You know what, don’t worry about it,” I said. He’d sniffed my butt before, and this time, no one would be able to see it. The curved, stone walls of the outdoor auditorium blocked anyone from seeing. Only someone standing at the stone opening in the back wall could see anything, and no one should be back there except the lilac bushes.

Most of my scenes involved just my hand puppets, but I had two big scenes where I popped up and played myself, alongside Christer. So while he had to crouch uncomfortably in the booth, I just lowered my belly to the ground, making sure the curtain draped neatly over my golden-furred back. It was dark and hot in the booth, but the show would start soon enough. I went over the lines in my head, and organized the puppets by order of appearance.

“Hi, kids! I’m Father Abraham!” started Christer, his hand clenching and relaxing with practiced precision. He smiled at me, going through lines. The kids loved it, saying “Hi” back and answering all the puppet’s questions.

Now it was my turn. Using my lowest “boy” voice, up popped his son Isaac. “Hi, kids! It’s me, Isaac. You called, papa?”

What a messed up story. Abraham was going to kill his son for God. I’d never really understood what the message was here, despite the pastor’s many attempts to explain the darker stuff in the Bible.

The kids laughed at my practiced, booming voice, and the show was a resounding success. So far. Until Hedger got involved.

Sure enough, halfway through the second scene, I felt the dreaded sniff. A cold, wet nose shoved right under my tail. I had to bite my lip to stop from growling at Hedger, but I knew that if I just let him get his fill, he’d leave me alone. I kept up with my lines, trying to ignore the mutt’s hot breath on my exposed tailhole.

“My name is Ruth!” I said, cheerfully, glad that one of the few chapters about women was included in the show, though it WAS the shortest book in the Bible.

“Hello there,” he began, “Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Boaz and this is my field.”

When I was about to make my reply, I felt something quite different than Hedger’s usual sniff and forget. Something wet and warm, and just a bit lower.

Yip! I managed to muffle the noise and shift it into the next line, gasping, “Thank you, but why are you being so kind to me?”

He was licking me! He’d never done that before, though Christer had always been there to reprimand the dog. And I was in heat. Even the neutered dog must be interested in that, apparently. I tried kicking at him, but the dog dodged and went right back beneath my tail. I wanted to turn around and yell at him, but no, the show must go on!

“Naomi, come and see!”

The worst part was that Hedger’s tongue felt great on my sensitive, heat-swollen spade. My pussy quivered, despite my best efforts to block the dog with my tail. How was I supposed to stick to the script, when behind the children’s puppet show, I was getting eaten out!? The ten-year-olds would have no idea what was going on with the rump that was attached to the girl attached to the hand that was playing Ruth.

Christer seemed to notice her lines were a little rushed. With a quick whisper he asked, “Is something wrong?”

I couldn’t very well tell him that his dog was tongue-raping me! Not only would I literally die of embarrassment, he’d never be able to look at me or his dog again without thinking of this moment. Any chance I had with him would be blown. “No, I’m okay,” I whispered back, bobbing my hand up and down as Ruth travelled to see Boaz.

“It's true,” I said, nodding my puppet’s head, “I would be glad to marry Boaz, but I don't know if he wants to marry me and even if he does, he won't ask me in front of all his workers and we can't be alone together - yip! - because people would think we were up to no good.”

I couldn’t quite cover up that yelp. Right in the middle of my sentence, Hedger stuck his tongue right inside me, spreading my puffy mound apart and lapping my insides. If I thought it felt good before, this was ridiculous. Now I knew how my cousin must have felt with Spike. I’d always thought she was crazy to have let a dog fuck her, even if she’d thought he had a vasectomy. But if Spike’s tongue were anything like Hedger’s, I was starting to understand.

I couldn’t let this go on any longer, not the least because I was having trouble with my lines. I was performing for children for Christ’s sake. Besides, what if someone walked backstage and saw? If only I could fit my body inside the booth without my head sticking up - though the part of the show where I appeared was coming up. If I could hold out until then, I could sit inside the booth and Hedger wouldn’t be able to reach.

Could Christer hear the steady slurps coming from behind the curtain? I could never tell how sensitive human ears would be. If so, he didn’t do anything about it, continuing with the show. Three more lines and I could sit down…

Maybe I didn’t need to. As suddenly as it all began, the licks stopped. “Thank God!” I gasped, too loud. “Uh,” I stammered for a second, and then continued with the next line, which fit perfectly: “The Lord has blessed me!”

Perhaps I spoke too soon, because before I could sit down, I felt Hedger jump onto my back. Great, now the neutered whippet-mix was play-humping me! Desperately, I tried to sit like I’d been planning for that last several minutes, but Hedger was stronger than he looked. He held me upright with his right paw tucked beneath my belly, humping back and forth at the air between my tall legs. I couldn’t believe how disobedient he’d become, but that’s what happens when a good dog is separated from his master.

Instead of sitting up, I was forced to stand up on all fours, my head popping up next to Christer’s for the next part of the play. If only he knew what his dog was doing to my defenseless rump as we acted!

My mind was racing. I tried to concentrate on the lines, my own expression (now that my face was in front of dozens of tweenagers), the mutt that was trying to dominate my dog end and my own uncertainty, I was definitely losing track. Was this too far? Did I have to stop the show and kick Hedger off of me? Everyone would be upset, and Christer would know for sure why I’d done it. But if I left the dog up, someone might see, and that would be even worse. They’d wonder why I didn’t stop him right away - they’d wonder if I was like my cousin…

I’d spent the last month of school trying to convince people I wasn’t a dogfucker like Ida. At first, it was just unfair - Ida had let one dog get away with her, and knock her up. But now I wasn’t so sure. She’d stopped showing any interest in the boys at school, and started a job as a dog walker. Still, what Ida did on her own time shouldn’t reflect on me. But if word got out that I’d let a dog onto my back, the rumors would return with a vengeance.

I just had to decide whether to stop the play to stop the dog, or put up with it and hope no one noticed. Both had their own risks. And thinking about it all made me miss my line.

Christer whispered, “Ruth shows…”

I hastily said, “Ruth shows that through true devotion and hard work, God will send blessings upon you.”

Christer started his line, but I was already back to worrying about Hedger. He wasn’t giving up, even though the neutered dog was just fooling himself. He kept on shoving me forward and back so that I had to put a hand on the front of the stand. His claws dug into my belly, holding him tightly in place as he waggled his hips. Why hadn’t I just bit the bullet and told Christer why I wanted to be on the right!?

Speaking of Christer, he said, “...loyalty to God.”

The cue for my next line!

“And so we go to our next tale of faith, aaaaeeeeeiii!” I gasped.

All eyes were suddenly on me, and I swear my heart stopped. There was no muffling that last shriek, because Hedger wasn’t playing around. In the middle of the line, I felt him launch himself forward, and instead of humping the air, he aimed a bit higher and finally hit his mark. I didn’t even know it was possible for a fixed dog to really ‘get it up’, but there was no denying it when his bony tip struck my drool-covered pussy and jabbed several inches in.

I didn’t know what to do, so I bought myself time. Ignoring Hedger for a moment, I quickly stammered the rest of my line, and then dropped back below the stage and out of sight. “David and Goliath!” I said in a rush.

It seemed to quiet the crowd, at least, though Christer glanced down at me. But he had the next line, so he kept on with the show.

Now I really didn’t know what to do. I’d never even kissed a boy, and now Christer’s dog was in me. Who knew that a fixed dog still got turned on by a bitch in heat? If I’d known that, I’d have never let him get this far. Now, though, how could I save myself? Could I wrestle him off of my before Christer turned around and saw what was happening? Would his doggy dick give it all away even then?

But I couldn’t just pretend it wasn’t happening, could I? He was raping me! But no one here would see it that way. They’d all say that we dogtaurs were all alike, and that we couldn’t control ourselves and that I’d wanted it like Ida. Stopping him now was a social death sentence, and the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to anyone. Except maybe Ida - her dog had had balls, and she’d left with a belly full of pups. Still, she’d only been seen by Anders, not an entire class of Sunday School kids.

Like it or not, there was only one choice - ignore Hedger and hope he tired himself out before the end of the puppet show. Gritting my teeth, I put my hand in the next puppet, holding back a whimper as the eager whippet pounded me.

“Look out, I’m Goliath!” I cried, in my booming man-voice. The kids all boo’d. “Who will…*pant*...stand against me!?”

“I will!” shouted Christer, his little David puppet lifting his sling.

“What? You?” I gasped, digging my hind feet into the ground to keep the dog from slamming me forward into the stand. Apparently, losing your balls didn’t shrink your dick because the forty pound Whippet was huge. My virgin spade trembled around him, offering no resistance as he glided wetly back and forth. Thank God I was in heat, or I don’t think he’d have fit at all.

Christer seemed relieved that, panting aside, I was back on script. “Let God guide my arm.”

“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!” I chortled, added a few extra laughs to cover a whimper or two. Between the heat in the shack, my heart pounding in my chest, and the dog on my back, I was sweating bullets. Why did I wear this sweater? Reflexively, I glanced over my shoulder to try to estimate when Hedger would get tired, but the curtain blocked my view. As far as I knew, he wasn’t even panting.

And while Hedger might not really be male, I was really female, and my body couldn’t tell the difference. I was getting wetter around the dog, my juices meeting his with a soft, slick squelch. My ears perked up and it sounded so loud I couldn’t believe that the kids couldn’t hear. Especially the anthro ones… The way Hedger filled out my folds only to tug them back was undeniable - it felt good.

I found myself rocking my hips as I feebly delivered my lines, gasping, “Ow! My head!” and flattened my hand against the stage. I hope the kids didn’t mind a little rigor mortis, because I couldn’t keep my hand still anymore.

Christer had the next seven lines. That wasn’t a good thing. Without the play to distract me, I couldn’t help it, I gritted my teeth and muffled my groans, trying to keep the half of me that was inside the curtain still as I pushed back against the horny dog. Would he ever stop, or did his lack of balls mean he was going to plug me forever?

That question was answered one second later, but in the worst way possible.

He hilted himself inside my untried muff, the force of his blow sending two heavy orbs smacking neatly against my thighs. I froze. Was that what I thought it was? But I knew Hedger - he was snipped!

Another thrust and another repeated the loud thwack, and that was it.

It wasn’t Hedger.

Some other dog had followed my scent, wandered onto the stage, and was knotting me, and this male was no phony. No wonder he’d seemed so much bigger than Hedger! Now the calculus all changed. This dog could breed me, and if I didn’t stop him right now, it would be -

The random dog pulled back and this time, he tugged me back with him. It was already too late - he’d knotted me! The bulge in my soft spade continued to grow as my mysterious mate claimed me, and my plan to freak out was put on hold. No matter how much I thrashed, I wasn’t going to get this dog off of me until he got what he came for. All I would do is knock over the puppet stand and reveal me, stuck full of doggy dick, to the entire crowd of 33 kids and some assorted adults. He’d breed me in full view of everyone.

I could hardly believe it, but I knew that wasn’t the right call. Now that he was all in, so was I. The only way out of this was to play it cool, as horrifying as that seemed. Whatever this dog was, he’d won, and I was his bitch. All I could do was let him have his way, fill my belly with his mutts, and keep up with my lines. I could worry about the consequences later.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. My next lines were above the stage again, and I stood to greet the smiling faces of the kids alongside Christer. “By putting his faith in God, David…”

I groaned, the stray dog leaning forward to plunge his knotted cock in sharp, short thrusts. But I had to finish my line. “Nnn, saved the Israelites and showed the…_Aaaah!..._Philistines not to mess with God.”

Christer then addressed the kids, while my job was to just smile. He talked about how the kids could show their faith in God and that great things would happen to them. Clearly, I didn’t have enough faith, because right at that moment, the big dog slammed forward and a fresh, warm flood of dog cum drained into my unprotected womb.

The way his cock twitched and throbbed inside me was too much, and my heat-addled pussy exploded into spasms that sent waves of pleasure down my spine. Now, I’d masturbated before, and I thought I’d orgasmed, but this was something altogether different. It took all my effort to keep my mouth shut, eyes rolling up in my head, fingers solid white from where they gripped the stage. My lower half shuddered beneath him, squeezing with every loud splurt! to draw his seed deeper. His knot sealed everything in, so even the backsplatter just drained slowly down inside my raised rump. I shivered in time with his balls, pulsating up against me as they proved that I wouldn’t be walking away from this play alone. Absentmindedly, I wondered what the pups would look like - was he a Doberman? A mutt? A Poodle?

“Goodbye, kids!” I groaned at the same time as Christer, the final line in the play. I was bright red and sweating, but the play was finally over. I could barely process information but I knew there was only one thing I could do. I had to count on Christer.

“Jesus, Vera, are you alright?” he whispered, as the kids started to pack up. “You look terrible!” The dog on my back had flipped around, and I could feel his tail wagging against my back. I could still feel him squeezing squirt after squirt into me.

I took a deep breath, ears flat, and said, “Christer - I can’t explain, but I need your help. Now!”

His eyes widened. “What is it?”

My eyes darted to Ben Nielsen and Ava Midner, coming up to help strike down the set for the next event. “You have to stop them.”

“What? Why?”

Closing my eyes, I bit the bullet. “Open the curtain…”

Christer did and then froze.

“Christer!” I said urgently.

He shook himself off, and said, “Get inside the stall, quick.”

I didn’t need to be told twice, climbing in sideways and pulling the dog with me. We barely fit, but Christer shut the curtain on us.

“Great job, Christer,” Ben said, rounding the corner and petting Hedger on the head. The little black dog had watched the whole thing as quiet as ever.

Ava said, “Where’s Vera?”

“Look, guys, we need to get to the snack stations right away. Vera said she’d strike the set alone so we could get over there.”

The girl smiled. “That’s nice of her. She did great, by the way.”

Christer paused, and said, “You don’t know the half of it.”

The first hurdle overcome, Christer waved them away and returned to me. “What the fuck, Vera!?” he said in a harsh whisper.

“I thought it was Hedger - I didn’t think he could…” I motioned my hands to the dog tied to me. “I didn’t want to interrupt the show, but then it was too late and -”

“It’s okay, I get it,” he said, but he didn’t sound particularly sure of himself. “He’s wearing a collar.”

I glanced down at the dog for the first time to realize that he wasn’t a mutt, or a Rottweiler, or anything like that. He was a Golden Retriever, like me. The affable dog grinned and panted as his little, white balls trembled.

Christer could reach the dog’s head and kneeled to read the name. “Bullseye Pedersen, and there’s a number. He must have gotten away from his owner.”

“That’s great, Christer, but how does that help me?”

“Jesus, Vera, I don’t know. What am I supposed to do? How long does this…” he waved his hands at the huge bulge beneath my tail, “...last?”

“Hey, I didn’t want this. Believe me, I didn’t.”

“I believe you! But people are going to wonder where you are.”

I sighed. “Sorry, I’m just...well, this is kind of a big deal.”

He nodded in agreement.

I started to cry. It was sudden, the endorphins finally wearing out and leaving me with the full realization of what had just happened to me. I was almost assuredly pregnant with puppies, and the only boy who’d ever shown me any sort of humanity was standing there looking at me like I was an alien...fucking a dog in front of him. If he told anyone, I was dead, and how could he not? He couldn’t keep this a secret, no one could! He’d have to talk to someone about it! “I’m sorry, Christer. I never thought...I’m not like this. It was an accident, I swear!”

“Vera! Vera…!” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. Then in a slow, steady voice, he repeated, “I believe you. How long does this usually last?”

“How should I know?” I gasped. “I’ve never done it before!”

“Vera.”

Sighing, I said, “I read somewhere it can be five to twenty minutes.”

“Look, I think I can buy you that much time. I’ll say you’re...in the bathroom or something. Just...stay here and wait until he’s off of you and I’ll bring you my jacket so you can...um...tie it around your waist until you can get yourself cleaned up. Oh, and make sure you tie him up next to Hedger, okay? We gotta get him back to the Pedersens.”

He started to leave, but I grabbed his hand. “Christer?” I asked.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

I didn’t go to SBS the next day. I couldn’t face Christer. I didn’t know who he’d tell, who he’d already told, what he would do, whether he would get me kicked out of youth group, or call the cops, or…

What he did do was show up on my doorstep at the end of the day, and say, “Vera, are you okay?”

“I got out without anyone noticing,” I replied.

“That’s not what I asked.”

I closed my eyes, trying to block the tears. “No.”

He knelt and took my hand, looking me in the eye. “Look, Vera, this is a really big thing and you don’t have to do it alone. You aren’t alone…”

I looked up at him.

“God is always with you.”

I looked down, my heart sinking all the way to my front paws.

“And I’m with you.”

I glanced up. Did he mean that? “You are?”

He nodded. “Dealing with rape is really, really hard, and you need to know I don’t think any less of you. This isn’t your fault. Whatever happened, know that God knows the truth, and we’ll see it through, okay?”

I wiped the tears from my eyes. “It’s not the rape that I was most worried about. It’s not like Bullseye knew what he was doing.”

Christer blinked. “Then what?”

“I thought I’d lost you. I didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again after...after that.”

“Me? You were worried about me?” he said, looking into my eyes.

I leaned up, and he kissed me. I smiled, my eyes still messy from tears. “As long as you’re with me, I know I can overcome anything.”

“It’s not just me, Vera. It’s God, too.”

I nodded, holding Christer in my arms, and, for the very first time, I truly believed.