Date: Sun, 5 Aug 2007 14:45:20 -0500
From: charles Turner <cbru49@gmail.com>
Subject: Christy Young 5

This is a work of fiction.  Any name, place or activity between men,
children or animals is purely a figment of my warped imagination.  If you
are a minor or it is illegal to read about alternate sexual activities in
your area please leave now.  No animals or humans were actually harmed in
the making of the story.

Christy Young 5

The coon hounds baying made him realize that someone was coming.  When the
three men stepped into the cabing throwing their shirts over the chairs
around the table Christy knew that the ordeal he had undergone since being
shot was not going to end until he was rescued or died.  The rancid smell
of sex and dog on his skin and coming from his ass was enough to make some
of the men trot him outside and rinse the latest coating of cum and piss
from his hair and skin, but only the one group tried cleaning out his ass
before using him.

Forty-eight hours passed before the company notified legal authorities that
they had a man missing in the forest.  Whether the Texas Rangers or NARC's
would have done anything before then is debateable, but Christy was well
aware that it would take forty-eight hours of non-contact for his boss to
become concerned enough to make a report and that he hated calling in the
Rangers for fear of having the pipeline seized.  But, they had discussed
the matter the first time he had taken the radio with him and that time
table was determined to be reasonable.

The Rangers' K-9 unit was contacted at dusk on Wednesday.  Three rangers
and their dogs were selected to start out the following morning from a spot
near where Christy had parked the truck and trailer.  The NARC's agreed to
insert four of their men and two bloodhounds about fifty miles further
along the pipeline where it crossed a bayou and have them work their way
towards the Rangers.  All seven men had been in gunfights with drug dealers
and growers before and were aware of the dangers they would be facing going
in to such a deserted area in search of person that might have warned the
growers their field was known about.

The Rangers' regional commander had called for volunteers.  When his K-9
personnel heard that the missing person had a Spanish Mastiff with him he
had three officers with mastiff partners immediately volunteer.  One of
those volunteer officers was Detective Fred Gonzalez.  Until he arrived at
the pipeline he had no idea that the missing man was Christy Young, but the
man was in his mind as he wondered about the feelings that he had found
growing after just one meeting and little time alone.  He was sure that the
big dog had enjoyed human company, but didn't know that it was the two boys
he'd met, not the adult.  DG as the other two handlers called him had been
taught to handle a mastiff you had to become closer to him than anyone else
and the only way was to satisfy his needs for sex at least once.  DG was
certain the others had been taught the same, as they had the same trainer
as he had.  Whether they had done more than give their partners a hand job
he didn't know, but his dog was kept satisfied by DG giving up his ass and
mouth regularly.

And that was a problem for DG.  Whenever he was on an overnight mission
Demon had the inclination to believe it was time for them to get together,
usually the dog wanted to mount his partner so DG was forced to be stricter
and harsher with the dog than when they rode on solitary patrol.  If it was
a patrol where a guard was required while the others slept he would make
time for Demon, usually just a quick handjob but enough to calm him down.
On one of his earliest overnights he'd been with a female officer and her
stud shepard, thinking she was sound asleep he broke with his normal
pattern and bent under the dog to give him a blow job.  He hardly had the
dick half-way into his mouth when he heard her laughing at him, he didn't
wanted to quit, but was too embarrassed to continue.  When he finally got
his head away from Demon the other officer was on her knees taking the full
length and knot of her shepard.  Turned on beyond belief he dropped his
pants and let Demon mount him.  The other officer and he became good
friends and often had been assigned to duty together until she was shot by
a myopic deer hunter.

When his friend died he considered giving up his position with the K-9
squad only to learn he would never be allowed anywhere near Demon again if
he did.  The closeness he felt for the dog was more powerful than the grief
he was feeling over the loss of a fellow officer and friend so he continued
to work with Demon.  The dog was well trained in finding people, not quite
as well in finding explosives and half as good in finding drugs so Demon
and DG were used quite often on man hunts and seldom had to work the
traffic stops coming out of Mexico that would be searching for drugs.  Both
jobs were dangerous, but not as bad as explosives work and DG was glad that
Demon had failed to be ranked in the top of his class at finding them.

Besides the problem with Demon wanting sex when they were on overnight
missions he had another problem with his job and that was not connected to
the dog.  On manhunts like this one there was likely to be a death or more
and killing left him depressed for weeks afterwards so his fellow officers
often kidded him about being such a pussy.  If they had known how much of a
pussy he was they would have never again gone on a mission with him.  After
the one misstep with the female officer he never again let anyone catch him
in a compromising position with Demon, so his home life was less than
fulfilling.  He wanted a lover, I guess I should say he wanted a master to
love.

It was ten o'clock on their second day of searching that the dogs dragged
the three officers to the place where Christy had tied up Chico and Wizard.
The horse and dog were dehydrated and hungry, Wizard looked okay but Chico
was suffering from the gun shot.  The dog didn't want any of the officers
near him and although wounded, growled defensively as the three other
mastiffs approached where he lay.  DG immediately identified Chico as
belonging to Christy knowing that he was the man they were hunting.  It
took a sedative to calm te dog down enough for the officers to get close
and water the horse.  Looking at the wounded leg two of the officers
thought that the vet would amputate, but they were not willing to do it
there.  They left the dog water and food, found the first aid kit that
Christy had used to doctor the dog and forced another antibiotic into his
mouth and put some cream on the wound with little faith that they could
help him much.  One of them radioed into headquarters that there was
definitely going to be trouble and asked for a mobile vet to be sent to the
scene along with backup.

Having done all they could the Rangers crept closer to the pipeline.
Unlike Christy they were there when the men were switching shifts and
walking past the patch instead of perched in a deer stand overlooking the
area.  They were amazed at the number of guards and when they caught sight
of a second patch of pot couldn't believe that the drug dealers were
getting so brazen.  They were spreading out with the hope of finding the
camp where they expected to find Christy when one of the guards caught
sight of the reflection off an officer's glasses.  Within moments there was
enough gunfire to make one believe an army was encamped in the forest.  In
the first attack one dog was killed, one wounded, one Ranger gutted and
another paralyzed with a shot to the spine.  Of the three Texas Rangers
only DG was unharmed along with Demon.  They couldn't leave their fellow
rangers, but DG was too heavily outnumbered to do much more than attempt
sniper fire.

The Ranger had hunted his entire life and knew that he would be able to
pick off those that attacked them if he was able to find them through the
thick patch of pot and pine branches.  He kept to the ground and crawling
was able to make a few shots that resulted in screams, a few that had no
response.  The later were the ones he was more sure increased his chance
for survival; a shot to the head seldom left the victim time to scream in
pain, death was usually instantaneous.  Twice while shooting he had a
bullet pierce his clothing and burn his skin but not even draw blood, Demon
was not as fortunate, his partner managed to survive a bullet through his
left ear and another that scraped his back.  Pinned down from four
directions DG began to give up hope that he would survive when he heard
automatic rifle fire from about four hundred yards away.  He was in a
shallow ditch that ran along the field of pot plants and in desperation
buried his head in the mud at the bottom.  For five minutes he heard
weapons firing, bullets whizzing and men screaming.  Demon had collapsed on
top on him after taking two more shots.

The gunfire stopped, suddenly.  He could hear three men yelling, but his
head was pressed too hard into the ground for him to understand a word.  He
lay there for a half hour waiting to hear more shots, none came.  Not
knowing what he would find DG tried pushing up onto his hands and knees to
move the two hundred pound dog off his back.  He was no more than on his
elbows when he heard someone yelling at him to throw out his weapon.  He
thought it sounded like a law officer, but he wasn't certain.  What he was
certain about was that buried under Demon he had no chance to defend
himself.  The Ranger's emblem emblazoned on the stock was apparent through
the mud and he was soon being pulled from the ditch by two of the NARC's.
There was a lot of confusion in the clearing.  One of the NARC's was dead
the other was still breathing but waiting for a medicopter to take him to
the nearest hospital.  The chopper would be bringing an extra doctor to
check out the other wounded men.  The NARC's hadn't found the Ranger with
the spine injury as of yet. Nor had they heard about the mobile vet's
arrival time.

The bloodhounds the NARC's had with them had located nine bodies, six that
they were sure had been dead when they arrived.  The camp had not been
found yet.  DG wanted to call for more backup and wait, but he knew there
was a decreasing chance they would find the person they'd originally been
sent to find if they waited.  Out of five dogs only the two blood hounds
were well enough to track.  It was only a hundred yards to the other side
of the cleared pipeline that they first saw the cabin.  None of them wanted
to believe there would be more guards in the cabin, but they were unwilling
to risk an assault without knowing some-thing.  The NARC's are always
loaded with equipment, even when they need to haul it for miles in hundred
plus degree temperatures.

None of the men could tell if the sounds of baying that were coming from
the cabin had drawn any human voices attempting to quiet them.  The Senior
officer managed to get his bullhorn to work and tried raising a response
from the cabin.  The four men inside were scared and angry.  Friends,
relatives and co-workers were laying dead in the forest and outside the
cabin were fed's trying to get them to surrender.  Two of the men were
wounded, but not badly enough to stop them from using their weapons when
the time came to defend the cabin.  All of the men had spent time in prison
and the thought of returning was less inviting than a final showdown in the
forest.  Some of their compadres may have not been willing to agree that a
final showdown was their fate.  The four that had made it to the cabin were
survivors of other battles with police and drug dealers.

The smallest of the cajuns had taken charge of the cabin.  Each of the four
men had two loaded rifles at his side and one in his hands.  Facing a
battle to the end could have been tense, but one of the men had decided
they should enjoy the entertainment provided them as long as possible.  The
cajun wouldn't allow them to spend their energy fucking Christy but he had
no problem in the men marching their favorite dog up to his mouth or ass
and watching them use him.  Until then, only Willy and Red had been led
behind him and goaded to poking the man's ass with their dick until they
were humping like he was their last bitch.  As they popped their knots in
and out of his chute Christy came to believe he would never again be in
control of his body.  For three days he had involuntarily orgasmed and came
in puddles on the floor that either he or the dogs had been told to lap up.
Now, with one dog after another humping his raw and puffy ass he seemed to
be in a constant state of spewing cum.

When the cajun heard the orders from the NARC with the bullhorn he told his
men to unload their piss in the captives mouth and sit down below their
assigned window.  The dogs that had been orderly in their march to relief
were now let loose to use Christy at will.  Red would mount his face unload
his cum and lay down ten feet away for five minutes before returning.
Christy found the watery cum less and less tasty as the big dog drained
himself.

The men inside the cabin didn't answer the NARC, the dogs had become quiet
and a tension settled in the forest that meant only one thing to anyone
familiar with using a rifle to kill another man.  Both sides waited for the
first shot to be fired, neither group knew how much of a force they faced.
Four days and one hour after he was first introduced to a dick in his ass
Christy passed out from the torture of one dog knot after another.  He
heard none of the shooting, men screaming or dogs howling in pain.

The NARC that had lost his best friend had seen movement in the cabin
through the slats and opened fire.  That shot was diverted by the slat and
hit the metal frame of the cot where Christy lay passed out before
richochetting past the dogs.  The wild shot started the fight that was soon
claiming victim after victim.  Dogs, drug growers and cops were hit.  The
shooting continued for as long as the men inside the cabin had ammunition.
The NARC's and DG had gathered extra ammunition from the fallen lawmen
before they had encircled the cabin.  Even though there were no more shots
coming from the drug growers the NARC's and DG waited until the backup
arrived before attempting to open the cabin door.

Three helicopters had landed on the pipeline, the vet was caring for
wounded dogs, a doctor and medic had quickly assessed the condition of the
two men they would have to send in the medivac and the extra Rangers had
moved into position around the cabin.  The uninjured NARC filled in the
lead Ranger and the three men that had fought to take the cabin stood back
with rifles raised as the rangers burst through the door.  DG and the two
NARC's had stood behind the entering Rnagers and the only thing they could
see in the cabin was a coon hound pounding away at a cot.  The unusual
sight soon coalesced for all the lawmen, the dog was pounding his knot into
a naked man tied to the cot.

DG was in the cabin before he saw that the man being fucked was Christy.
The other men in the cabin were not moving, though one was groaning.  The
other dogs all ran out the door as the men entered.  There were Rangers
snickering at the plight of the captive, but none were able to help him as
the coon hound continued pounding away.  Someone threw a bucket of cold
water at the dog and he finally dismounted and ran from the room.  The
officer in charge cursed the man that had thrown the water for destroying
evidence.  DG ran from the cabin to get the doctor he'd been told would be
by the clearing.  When they returned to the cabin Christy was trying to
wake but was making no sense to any of the men standing around.