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Disclaimer:

The following is a work of fiction/fantasy about a yearning taboo romance that defies conventions about laws and decency. It has not been researched. It is not intended as an endorsement of any criminal activity.

You are Will, an older middle-aged man who lives by his lonesome in the small town of Pinewood. You reside in a small unassuming bungalow at the end of a cul de sac. You make your living primarily as a technical writer who works from home, and this suits you just fine because you tend to be rather introverted and don't make friends very easily. Thus, you are used to passing the days taking care of you and your home by yourself.

One fine, warm afternoon on a hot midsummer day you are raking up the fallen leaves in your backyard, when you hear the sound of someone walking slowly down the sidewalk that runs just on the other side of your fence.

At first, you think it's just some kids playing around with their bikes or something like that, but then you notice how they're wearing hoodies over their heads and covering their faces so you can barely see anything through the mesh-like fabric.

They appear to be chasing a large dog, whom is obviously trying to keep her distance from them. They chase after her for a few minutes before finally catching her and bringing her back into view. The dog has been completely subdued; she appears terrified out of her mind. From across the street, you can see her looking at you, making eye-contact.

You can't help but feel like the young hoodlums mean ill intent towards the dog. Rapping your rake noisily on your fence to get their attention; you call out to them. "Hey! Leave that poor dog alone, or I'm calling the cops!"

The two boys turn to look at you, and one says, "Shut up old timer."

You come out from around the fence, brandishing the machete you use for clearing weeds, "I think you had all better leave the dog with me."

You cut quite a menacing figure with your filthy gardening tools and haggard appearance, and the boys are frightened into thinking that you actually mean business. You wouldn't actually hurt them. Not really. But you know that the neighborhood kids are generally a little leery of you because of your appearance and because of your quiet nature. As they flee away from the scene, you shake your head sadly. Why do some young thugs like that love to harass defenseless animals? Have they no shame?

As soon as they are gone, you walk over to where the dog lies on the sidewalk -- panting and exhausted. She doesn't even flee as you approach. You kneel down next to her and gently stroke her ears. Her eyes dart nervously between yours and the ground. After calming her down somewhat, you speak soothingly to her in an attempt to calm her fears, "It's okay now sweetie... It's alright..."

You look her over from nose to tail, just to get a better idea of what breed she is and whether she is injured at all. In fact, she seems perfectly healthy aside from being rather scared and confused about why these guys were harassing her. She looks like a nice medium-to-large sized mutt. Perhaps a labrador or shepherd mix. Her short coat is quite beautiful and her tail has a short curl in it.

"What's your name?" You ask rhetorically, knowing that she can't speak. But you ask, just the same -- and take the opportunity to look for a license or collar, but she has neither.

She gives you a sad little whimper.

"Shhh, it's okay girl. Don't worry. Everything will be fine. C'mon, let's get off the sidewalk and inside my fence. Nobody will hurt you inside my yard," you say, petting her softly.

Your voice is soft and gentle, but firm and authoritative. This is probably the first time anyone has ever spoken kindly to her. Your tone makes it clear that you are not threatening her or trying to dominate her, but rather you're simply reassuring her.

You get up and take the few steps back to your fence gate, and then beckon warmly for her to follow you, "C'mon. It's safer over here."

She follows you obediently into your backyard, and then sits quietly beside a small bush. You sit down on the edge of the porch, patting her affectionately. "There, there, shh. I'll be right back. Stay put. Okay?"

You stand up, and put your tools away. She would probably like some food and water. But you don't have any pets of your own, so you don't have any dog food in your home for her. You'll have to run out briefly to buy some.

You walk up to the corner store, leaving the dog in your back yard. When you return about fifteen minutes later, she's still there, although laying down on the grass now. You offer two bowls to her, one filled with fresh water and the other filled with the dry dog kibble. You watch her curiously as she noses and sniffs cautiously at each. She hesitates a bit before tentatively licking the kibble. Then finally she begins eating hungrily from it, pausing now and then to lap thirstily from the bowl of water.

You feel relieved to see her eating and drinking, and sit there quietly, continuing to watch her as she does so. The sun is setting behind the trees and casting long shadows across your lawn.

After she finishes her meal, you decide that you should clean the dishes out. So you pick them both up and carry them to the sink.

At the doorway, you beckon for her again, "Do you want to come inside? You can come inside with me, if you want."

You feel a strange tingling sensation in your stomach at the thought of having a dog in your house. You've never had a dog of your own and you haven't interacted with one since you were a small child. But now that fate has seemingly led this one to your door, and you have the odd gut feeling like maybe it would do both of you some good to have her under your roof.

She looks at you, and then slowly gets to her feet and walks over to you, slinking past the doorway and sitting inside your foyer. She's a little unsteady and weary on her feet, but grateful to be inside out of the sun. You kneel down next to her and stroke her head and ears. "Shhh, it's okay sweetie. Everything will be fine."

You lean in close to her face, and whisper softly to her, "I know... I promise, everything is going to be okay.

You decide you should probably give her a name, and eventually decide upon, "Belle". After all, she was a beautiful princess in a movie about a Beauty and a Beast. And she is certainly very beautiful -- for a dog.

You walk her around a bit, making sure she's comfortable. And then decide you'd better find a spot for her to sleep.

And that was how you became a dog-owner, and it made you very happy. Belle seemed to really enjoy being indoors and getting lots of attention from you. She loved the food and water you gave her, and she would always lick your hands when you fed her treats.

It wasn't without it's rough spots at first, though. It took you a few days to recognize when she needed to go outside to go potty. But you two managed to figure it out after the first couple accidents. She definitely didn't seem interested in playing fetch or any other kind of games you could play with her. But she seemed content just being near you.

You were surprised to find that she was actually quite friendly towards you. In fact, she often seemed to nuzzle and stand near you expectantly, and you often felt like you weren't sure what it was she wanted. And then eventually—you hazarded that perhaps it was just company she needed. You had trouble sympathizing at first. You never wanted to be terribly close to others. Interacting with other people often left you feeling fatigued and ornery.

But Belle? Belle was different. You never felt ornery after after playing, talking, or walking with her. Fatigued? Sometimes. But in a warm, pleasant way. A fatigue that left you feeling relaxed and happy.

Since you worked at home, you were never really very far from her at any given time; and after the first couple weeks had gone by, you two were nearly inseparable. She would sit calmly and lazily in the office while you worked, come outside with you when you did your gardening, and hang out in the living room with you when you were leisurely watching TV, during which you would allow her to sit and lie on the sofa beside you. Often sitting and snuggled in so closely to you, that you felt sometimes like you were sharing your body with another person.

You began to develop a sort of bond with her.

One day, as you were going into the bathroom to relieve yourself, you were surprised and slightly amused to see that Belle was trying to follow you into the bathroom, too. You weren't sure why she would want to do such an odd thing, but -- bemused by her curiosity, you let her sit by the doorway and watch as you pulled your pants down and sat on the toilet to take care of your business.

It felt like an oddly intimate moment, letting her watch you in what would ordinarily be a rather private moment. But you figured it didn't matter so much, because she was just a dog. She was probably wondering why you didn't do your potties out on the lawn outside with her.

When you finished up, you stood up from the toilet to flush. But then--before you could re-dress yourself, Belle suddenly trotted over and very curiously began to sniff you.

"Hey! What are you doing?" You asked, a little startled.

But she paid no heed to you. Instead she continued sniffing at your crotch, as if she was smelling something interesting. You reason to yourself that this is probably normal behavior for a dog, because you've come to understand how important their sense of smell is to them. So you indulge her. You stand still and let her sniff and explore your scent.

After several seconds of this, she seems to be somewhat satisfied and pulls back. You pull the rest of your pants back on and scratch her on the head softly as she wags her tail, "Satisfied? Do I smell good, for a human?" you ask rhetorically, patting her gently on the head.

She looks at you with those big, happy eyes of hers, and then licks your hand in response.

You chuckle and pet her again, "I suppose that means 'yes'."

Later that night, as you make yourself ready for bed, you crawl up and make yourself comfortable in the blankets. Belle usually sleeps on the small dog bed you've set up in the corner of the room, but tonight she comes and stands at the foot of the bed hopefully. You look at her for a moment and she whimpers softly.

"Oh, all right. Why don't you sleep with me, tonight?" you say, patting the bed softly, inviting her to come and lay with you. She hesitates a bit before jumping up onto the bed, where she lays down next to you. Sprawled out like this, she's almost as long as you are.

You stroke her fur affectionately and caress her head. "Good girl," you whisper. She gives a soft sigh, contentedly closing her eyes.

You're used to sleeping alone. In fact, this is probably the first time you've shared a bed with anyone else in a very, very long time. But you find yourself strangely comfortable and at ease with her here beside you.

You watch the way her body moves as she shifts position. She doesn't seem to have any trouble getting comfortable. You decide that you'll let her stay with you until morning, at least.

But it doesn't end with just that one night. Soon, the doggy bed in the corner of the room begins seeing much less use as the days and nights pass, until Belle is sleeping with you in the bed almost every night. She's a wonderful companion, and you find yourself enjoying her company more than you expected.

One day, after work, you take your usual walk around the block with Belle in tow on her harness. It's a pleasant evening and you enjoy strolling through your neighborhood together. And it dawns on you that some of the neighbors are waving to you as you pass by. You wave back politely. It's funny. You don't really know any of them, but you're starting to recognize some of the same faces on these walks, too. Before Belle, you didn't really explore your neighborhood much. You were content just to stay inside.

It's a strange kind of building intimacy. You get used to feeling her presence next to you in the day. On your walks. And in the middle of the night. And during these long nights where you are cuddling together you begin enjoying the feeling of her furry face so close to yours. The occasionally tickling sensation of her tail brushing against your legs when it moves.

You can feel the warmth of her body as you cuddle up with her. And sometimes, if you happen to be lying on your side facing away from her, you will hear the occasional 'whuff!' as she exhales.

Sometimes, you'll even wake in the early hours of the morning and you'll catch a whiff of her musky scent as she lies curled up nearby.

It fills you with a joyful warmth ...and something more, besides. There's a tingly feeling between your legs. You feel your erection laying against your thigh, deep in your pajama bottoms. It fills you with both a sense of curiosity and a sense of shame. You've always thought of yourself as asexual, more or less. Neither women nor men have interested you much in this life. So why does being this close to Belle fill you with such butterflies in your stomach?

You start to wonder what it would be like to kiss her.

But you know that if you do, it would be a horrible taboo. A line you can never take back once you cross it. You're a human, and she's just a dog... and you'd be committing a terrible sin.

You stop yourself from thinking about kissing her.

Or any sexual thoughts at all, really. At least for tonight. She can't talk to you. You don't really know how a dog thinks. How could you be certain that you if you kissed her or did anything else untoward, that you wouldn't just be making her uncomfortable?

The next morning, however...

You're sitting in your home office, working on a technical manual--when curiosity gets the better of you. You use your computer to look up information about canine psychology. And specifically--how one tells when a dog is....interested.

You read several articles and reviews and finally settle on an article written by Dr. Maranda Tregarten. She seems to have the most thorough knowledge of the subject. Her book, "Canine Psychology and Behavior", is considered a definitive text in the field.

She explains that dogs are very intelligent, but they don't think like humans. They don't reason. They don't use abstract language to express their thoughts and feelings. But she also says that they certainly do have emotions, and she gives a number of examples.

For instance -- she talks about a dog who was given the name 'Buddy' by his owner. But then when Buddy reached adolescence, his owner gave him the nickname "Bear" as part of an experiment in canine behavior.

This name 'Bear' was arbitrary. But it demonstrated that, while he didn't understand words, Buddy understood tone of voice. And when his owner called out "Bear!" in the same commanding, authoritative way that he usually called out "Buddy!", Buddy responded to the command, picking up on the tones of voice and unspoken bodily cues.

He learned to demonstrate an understanding of other emotional states, too. Through people's tone of voice and body language. For example, if somebody said "come here!" in a happy, excited way--he would come running with his tail wagging, ready to play. But when that same person said "come here!" in a scolding, dominating tone, he would approach more submissively, with careful steps and his tail between his legs.

It's a fascinating deep dive into the complex minds of dogs, and eventually--with some trepidation, you get through each chapter until coming to the one all about breeding and courtship. You learn that dogs will sniff each others genitals and rears. But it's not a matter of whether or not a particular dog is aroused. Rather, the behavior is more exploratory. And among other social uses, it can be used as a way of inquiring to find compatible mates.

You think back to when you were in the bathroom all those weeks ago and Belle wanted to sniff you all over, down there. You suddenly realize that perhaps you should pay closer attention to what she's doing. She may not be able to talk, but she can certainly communicate her feelings in her own doggy ways.

You wonder if you should try 'sniffing' her back, the next time she wants to sniff you. It might be an interesting way of showing that you're interested in her, too...but would a doggy really understand such gestures coming from a human?

You read on a little more, with an uncomfortable sweat forming on the back of your neck, into a section specifically about copulation.

When the female invites the male to copulate, she will often make herself available by presenting her hindquarters. She will engage in 'flagging' behavior, where she lifts her tail out of the way and spreads her legs apart. She may leak a little urine, filled with pheromones. This allows the male to see and smell her genitalia, which is a cue for him to investigate and mount her, if he is interested.

You feel a tingly excitement radiating from your crotch, just reading these chapters. You close the page, feeling slightly guilty.

You don't know what to think of yourself, anymore.

The next few days pass without incident. You feel so ashamed of yourself for even imagining such taboo thoughts that you feel disgusted with yourself. And you only go through the perfunctory motions each day of making sure Belle is fed and brushed, without otherwise spending a lot of time near her. You don't want to be tempted into crossing a line you can never take back.

Belle seems a little restless. She doesn't understand why you are keeping a little more distance than usual, but she otherwise behaves well.

You decide that it's best just to leave things alone, for the moment.

But then one day, you take a break from your busy home-office work to go use the toilet. And as you open the door to the bathroom, Belle seems interested in following you inside again.

You stop and look at her. "What's wrong?" You ask.

She looks up at you and whines softly, and then licks your hand in response. She seems very anxious. So you let her enter the bathroom with you.

She leans forward and bristles her nose, sniffing curiously as you sit on the toilet to go about your business. She wags her tail happily and leans in, eagerly.

"Hey! What are you doing? That's gross...dogs are so weird." You mumble, feeling shy and vulnerable. You pull back slightly, but Belle ignores you, continuing to sniff around the bowl.

She's clearly very curious about the scents coming from your body, because she doesn't seem bothered by it.

Nibbling your lip with renewed curiosity, you get off the toilet when you're finished relieving yourself. But instead of standing and pulling your pants up, you instead sink down onto your knees, closer to Belle's level. And, without any coaxing from you, she begin bringing her muzzle down around your crotch, balls, and rear.

You squeak in surprise as she begins sniffing very closely around your private parts. And you indulge her, letting her sniff to her heart's content, even when you feel her muzzle brushing softly against your rear.

You lean back on the toilet seat, and sigh as you watch the Belle lick her lips. And suddenly, the distance you had been trying to put between yourself and her feels like it never existed at all. You reach out and stroke her head, and she responds by leaning her face into the crook of your arm, giving it a gentle lick.

And then, remembering what you'd read earlier in the week and unable to stop yourself --you find yourself getting back onto your knees and finding your resolve, you 'return' the favor. You bring your face down near her tail, and sniffing softly around her hips and between her legs.

You're surprised at how warm and inviting she smells. She smells like dog -- musky and warm. But there's also something else...something that you can barely identify. Something spicy and bitter, but not unpleasant.

Belle seems very happy that you've sniffed and explored her in return. She pants softly and brushes snugly up against you, and you pet her all over her body, chest, and underside. You feel her soft fur under your hands, her little teats below her tummy...and you feel your crotch tingling. You're getting erect.

You wonder if she can understand what's going on here. You're a human, and she's a dog... but somehow, it feels natural. It almost seems right to be doing this.

As you continue stroking her, rubbing her tummy, you start to become more aroused. Your breathing is becoming heavier, and you notice that Belle seems to be interested in the sudden erection you've sprouted, too.

You feel a tickle at your crotch, and realize that she's nuzzled her way up along your cock. You gasp softly as you feel her tongue darting out to lap gently at the tip of your penis.

Finally, laying on your side, right there on the bathroom tile--Belle walks over to the doorway and pauses, just in front of you...she turns, with her hindquarters facing you, presenting herself. And she whines.

"Oh god," you whisper, feeling your heart thump in your chest, "I didn't mean to let things go this far..."

But Belle is already moving her body. She hikes her curly tail up, flagging it aside...but then slowly lowering it again, until the end of her tail lays flat across her backside.

She lowers herself slightly, her haunches spread wide, exposing her vulva for you to see. You stare in awe at how engorged and wet she looks. Even her little teats are swollen.

Belle is in a -very- needful way, And she is clearly looking to you for relief. She whines softly, and then licks her lips. She opens her mouth, and you watch as her pink tongue comes out, and then there's a slight trickling sound as just a few drops of urine leak onto the bathroom tile below.

And for some reason, the sight and slight whiff of Belle's heat-filled piss makes you even more excited than ever.

She pants, whining. Her tail goes stiff again, hanging limply to one side. She looks back to you with pleading eyes, begging you.

"What are you doing?" You say, feeling embarrassed. "What am -I- doing? This..this isn't...right."

So you tell yourself. But then, you find yourself crawling toward her on all fours, until you're right up behind her. You rub your face against her neck, and press a kiss to the base of her throat. And she pants softly, arching her spine, pressing her rump into you. She's so excited right now. You can feel her heart racing.

You don't think you could 'mount' her the way a male dog would. And you're terrified to try for hear of accidentally hurting her or yourself. But you do reach down under her--and play with her.

You feel around between her legs, and she's very wet. You stroke her labia, her pussy lips, and feel delicately around her slit. The effect is immediate, and she bucks her hips down, pushing against your hand, panting.

You use another finger brush over her teats and tummy and she whimpers. Then you run them up along her vagina, and you feel her tense.

You know what to do next. You bring your face down and kiss her along the top of her head and neck. She responds eagerly, pushing with her hips, working towards satisfying herself with the aid of your gentle touch.

And the rest ... is probably best left to the imagination. But when she is finished and sits in the corner of the living room to lick herself clean, she looks utterly blissful; happy, and satisfied. And you feel completely ashamed and mortified with yourself.

You're no longer Will, the asexual technical writer who is content living alone. Now you are Will, the perverted freak. You've been seduced by your own dog! You couldn't control yourself! You couldn't! It wasn't your fault!

You spend a long time trying to convince yourself that it was just a fluke, and a momentary lapse of judgment. That you didn't really mean to cross any lines......but the more time passes without any real negative judgement or repercussion for your actions, the more you begin rationalizing and accepting it.

You aren't harming anyone. You don't tell a soul. And you never force her to do anything, always waiting for her to show interest and initiate.

It's almost like she's the dominant partner in this relationship. You're the submissive one.

You've learned that dogs can be extremely sexual creatures. They have their own language of gestures and signals, just as humans do. And you aren't as asexual as you once thought you were. You simply didn't have a natural attraction toward your fellow humans.

On a strange mid-summer day, a group of young hoodlums chased a stray dog out of the streets, and chased a princess into your life. She's your Beauty, And you're her Beast. And things were good for awhile. And one day bled into the next, and every night the moon still rose and shined brightly, as though nothing were wrong at all.

You are Will. Introvert. Technical writer. Lover. Provider.

....and Zoophile.

-A Dreaming Rat wrote this.