And Dingo was his Name-O
#26 of A Real Animal Lover
Nigel
was suddenly very open about his life once he found out I was into animals as
much as he was. He was quite jealous of the numbers and types I had encounters
with, especially all of the big cats. Felines were not native to Australia and
he had little chance of visiting the zoos with any sort of amorous intentions
and having them fulfilled.
But he had been quick to point out
that they did have one canine, the dingo. "Mate, I have to tell ya, I hate them
wild dogs! I know I'm out here to protect the animals, but I got set upon once and
I've held a grudge every since. They're no better than a bitzer in my book"
I wasn't about to argue with him.
He was, after all, my present companion and my only means of getting back to
civilization. "Are you telling me then that you've never had one?"
His looked turned wry. "I'm not
saying nothing of the sort mate. Let's just say that I'm not as nice about it
when it comes to them."
"As in?"
"Oh, let's just go round one up and
I'll show you."
He threw his gear in the truck and
we headed off into the bush early one morning to a region he knew had a
population of them. "We'll have to keep an eye out for the little blighters,
because they blend in with the dirt. It's hard to catch them out during the
heat of the day, so that's why I dragged you out of your bunk so damn early."
We drove until the light was just
beginning to show over the horizon. There was a range of low hills to the north.
We stopped near the closest one and got out of the truck. He had the tranq gun
with him again. I felt a little sorry for the animals, but not too sorry. I had
drugged a few in my day, just to make the encounter safer for both parties.
They weren't my high points, but I never regretted the decisions.
There was a small pack of the
animals hanging out near an outcrop of rock. There were no pups, which made me
feel a little better. I didn't want to be responsible for breaking up a family
in case something went wrong. Out here in the middle of nowhere was no place to
try and resuscitate an animal because the dose in the dart was too strong.
He chose the largest animal and
placed it in his sights. I was watching through the binoculars again as a
second set of eyes. Like the kangaroo, we didn't want to lose our quarry and
there was a slight chance that this pack had some burrows nearby. They wouldn't
be deep, but there was no point in losing sight of the animal once the dart
found its mark.
I heard him squeeze the trigger.
The dart was too small and fast to be seen, but its effect wasn't. The targeted
dingo leapt in the air with a yelp. It took off a few yards before turning to
bite at the painful intrusion into its hide. From what I could see it managed
to pull the dart out, but the damage had already been done. As it turned and leaped in agitation, the drug
coursed through its veins until it collapsed on the ground.
"That'll teach the little blighter!"
Nigel cried with satisfaction.
"What now?"
"We go scare off the rest and claim
our prize!"
That's exactly what we did. The rest
were already a little edgy and our abrupt appearance sent them scurrying off,
leaving their unconscious companion to us. Nigel was the nimblest of us at
navigating the uneven ground and arrived first. He hollered back to me.
"I hope you don't mind boys once in
awhile. I aimed for the biggest and snagged me a bloke instead of a Sheila."
I had already told him about the
lion so he knew it didn't matter as much as it might have to a purist . I think
he had been hoping the biggest was a female, but as far as that went the
biggest animals were almost always males. This one was probably a good sixty
pounds or more, ten pounds over the average. He was rather pretty once you got
up close and personal, and while his colors were tan/light brown and hardly
flamboyant, he still had a rather noble bearing to him.
Nigel proved his innate dislike for
the species by roughly yanking up on the dingo's tail and pointing to his anus.
"It's been a while, but I can tell ya that this here hole is good for a few
hours of fun."
"Few hours? The drug shouldn't last
that long."
"You're right Yank, but I've been
known to apply extra if it's needed."
"I see. If it's alright with you,
let's just get back and experience a little fun without going overboard on the
drugs."
"Whatever suits ya. You go getting
all soft on me though and I'll be calling you a sook again."
Names didn't mean a thing to me.
Nigel threw the unconscious animal
over his shoulders and packed it back out to the truck. Just to be safe, he
slapped a muzzle on it and bound its feet. He had no desire for it to somehow
fight off the drug and come to in the truck. It seemed more like he was just
being mean, but when in Australia, and especially the Outback, you did as your
guide did.
Once we were back at the station he
pulled the poor thing out by its feet and carried it inside. Instead of taking
over to a cot however, he draped it over the narrow table that served as both
eating center and work space, depending on the need. Today's need was a little
out of the ordinary.
He ran a cord under the table,
linking the tied front and back legs together. It seemed a little extreme to
me, considering the animal was limp, but I wasn't in a position to argue with
his actions. I had never dealt with a dingo before.
The canine's rump was now at a
perfect height to reach from a standing position. Nigel dropped his pants and
spread the relaxed orifice until the pink showed, at which point he went to
push in. I had the nerve to stop him.
"Damn! You're going in dry?"
"You'd better believe it."
"I'd prefer if you didn't. You
could do a lot of damage doing that."
"Look mate, I don't rightly care
much for these beasties. If he goes back
to his pack with his tail between his legs and a funny wobble to his walk, it's
a far better thing than if I just kill him outright!"
"Maybe, but this animal in
particular didn't do a damn thing to you. So maybe you could be the better for
it and cut him a little slack. What if it were you tied down on this table?"
He looked like he was trying to
swallow a lemon sideways. "You've got some funny notions, but I'll do it your
way." He finished kicking off his pants and stepped outside for a second. He
came back with a strange looking piece of plant. It was out of context for me
until he explained.
"Aloe Vera. Nice to put on a cut or
a burn. It grows well out here if you remember to water it once in a while. And
it's slippery enough to make even you happy."
"Thanks. It does make me feel better."
"If it makes you feel better, think
of the wonders it'll do for him!"
He smeared the thick slippery sap
over his cock and lined back up again. There was a moment when the hole seemed
to balk at being entered instead of exited, but all at once it gave way and he
was inside. It made me wince just thinking about that being done bone dry. This
guy was nice enough, but he had it in for the poor dingoes!
He had the tail in one hand and the
other braced on the animal's back. The table was soon rocking and creaking, and
just to make sure it didn't collapse i sat on the opposite side to brace it. It
also allowed me to keep a close eye on the dingo. While the drugs can sometimes
stop their breathing, I had a feeling that the present stimulation to its
backside was more than enough to counter the effect.
Nigel was reaming the dingo's ass
with as much energy as he had put into the kangaroo. It was funny to think that
the two animals were very nearly in the same weight range, and yet the dingo
seemed somehow smaller. It was an illusion really, for their bodies were not
shaped the same way, and that made a lot of difference.
I could tell from his face that
this was more a rape than actual sex. I was beginning to think that this might
have been a bad idea. But then, I didn't know his story and therefore lacked
any real information. I had been lucky enough to only have a few real run-ins
with any of my animals, and the worst of those hadn't even occurred during a
tryst. Life in the Outback was a lot rougher than life in a zoo, even when you
lived in one. I did my best to cut him some slack.
I could tell when he was done and
yet he continued to pound away on the limp dingo's ass until his cock was finally
too flaccid to stay in. He pulled away from the table with a look of grim satisfaction
on his face. "Don't get me wrong mate. Dingoes are handsome animals. And they've
got lovely tight holes regardless of the sex. But I hold a grudge, and when I
hold a grudge, it's for a long time."
I didn't say a word. I had a
feeling he would tell me eventually what the problem was that he had with these
animals. Something from his past from the sounds of it, and likely from when he
was little. Traumatic experience in childhood tended to haunt you all through
life.
I dropped my pants and took over
his spot. The dingo's hole was well loosened and far better lubricated than at
the start of this adventure. I could only imagine what was going through its
mind, assuming it had any consciousness at the moment.
Instead of roughing this fellow up,
I gently grabbed his sides and thrust in. His tail was a bit annoying, but once
I was inside, it hardly mattered where it fell to. Unlike my friend, I took the
time to admire his body form, fur and other features. It was interesting that
the scientific community listed the dingo as a subspecies of wolf, because he really
didn't have the normal features commonly associated with the species.
I should know.
As for how he was, sexually speaking,
all I can say is that he was one hell of a fuck. I would have preferred trying
this out on a waking dingo; one that had been acclimated to human contact; but
since my choices along those lines were limited to what I had before me, I bit
my tongue, lowered my moral standards and went on to enjoy myself as best I could.
Even under these conditions it was quite wonderful.
His ass was still plenty tight,
even after his first reaming. My actions were nowhere nearly as vigorous as
Nigel had been. Taking into account that this poor fellow was going to have to recuperate
later, I kept my thrusts slow but plenty deep. I would pull back, luxuriating
in the feel of his warm tunnel as the head of my cock scraped along his
interior. I pulled until I was almost out before shoving back in. It might not
seem macho, but it was a hell of a lot more satisfying than ramming it home
like you were some sort of fiend hell-bent on causing destruction.
Besides, what was the rush in getting
off? This little fellow was out for the count which was all the better for him.
As tight as he was, he reminded me a lot of the Maned Wolves, only they were
much leggier. They fit about the same weight category, and to be honest, I was
getting hornier (if that were a real possibility under the circumstances)
wondering what a female dingo would be like. I had heard they came into heat
twice a year, but only one worked for producing cubs. That made for some
interesting musings.
I was a patient man. I might have to see about
getting a dingo for myself. If I was
going to have a pet dog, why not something unique like this? It might be
tricky, but I did have friends in some high places. What use were they if I didn't
use them to my advantage from time to time?
Despite the slow route I was taking
physically, my mind was soon over the top from so many found remembrances of my
other canine pursuits. I could feel the rise up in my loins and no matter how
hard I tried to suppress it, it wasn't going to stop. I finally let loose, careful
not to go at it too hard, but with a lot more energy than I had been using up to
this point. The table went into a fit of creaking as I drove my cock in until
it exploded.
I loosened my grip on the furry
body and relaxed. I had to admit that I was enjoying myself down under (under
the tail that is), even doing things in a manner less akin to my normal modus
operendi. As it was, this fellow would be returned to his pack more or less
unscathed; learning if nothing else to be even more wary of humans than he was
before.
We dropped him off a few hours
after we had first snagged him, placing him on the road near the vehicle where
we could monitor his recovery. When he finally managed to get to his feet, I
had to wonder if the wobble in his step was caused by the drugs or his abused
rear end. He looked back at us, probably seeing double for the moment. He then
turned and made a little call to his pack, who responded in turn. He slipped
through some brush and was gone.
The drive back was quiet. When we
made it to the station once again, we got out and had some food and a few
beers. "So Yank, you think I'm too hard on them damn dogs?"
"Maybe a little."
"You may be right." He rolled up
his pant leg, showing an old healed gash. "Got caught by a pack when I was a
kid out hiking alone. Stupid thing to do at my age, but it was a hard lesson
that was well learned. Maybe too well learned."
"Perhaps. You might want to see
about getting yourself a pup and hand raising it. It'll never be tame, but who
knows? You may find that if you're lucky, you might have a friend for life."
"Dingoes are pretty damned independent.
Still, you may have something there mate. What's the worst that could happen?"
"Exactly. Give it a try. Domesticated
dogs had to start somewhere. Legend has it these fellows followed the ancestors
of the Aboriginals over thousands of years ago."
"And you think they were having
affairs with their little doggies?"
"I have no idea. I guess you'd need
to delve into their lore to find that out."
"Hmmm. You may have something
there. I've got a few friends among them. I'd just need a polite way of asking
such a question."
"I wouldn't think it would be that hard."
"I'll think on it mate. So," he
asked with a twinkle in his eye, "Have you ever seen an emu up close?"
"Nope! Just an ostrich."
"Really, a big bird like that? Heck,
I know a fella who raises the shaggy two legs about a day's drive from here. They're
more of a practical size that their African cousins. Are you game?"
"Count me in!"
After all, what's life without its experiences?
And at least this time, my companion would be awake and on its feet. That's
what I was hoping at least. Time would tell.