Chapter 6

As Carol, Helga, and I were led to one corner of the room, I knew from my first step that my own rear end was displaying the same "trophy" as were those of the two women. Even though I couldn't look behind myself to see it, I had no doubt I was wearing a sheep's tail, just as they were. I remember having the fleeting thought that it would be only fair if I had two tails, but that quickly passed as we reached our destination.

Part of the floor there sloped toward a drain, and that, plus the garden hose hanging on the wall, told me we were to be hosed down to make us presentable once again. The man who had been filming us did the honors. He opened the valve all the way, then, issuing curt orders, quickly washed every part of our bodies with the stream of ice-cold water. I could tell the women were being brought back to "reality" by the process, but my mind remained in its fogged state, and my body continued to feel lethargic. In some deep recess of what passed for a brain at that time, I knew they had not been drugged, as had been necessary with me, in order to gain their cooperation. I also tried to tell myself that, whatever happened, I would do my best to obey Kathy's orders in such a way that she'd know I was doing so because I loved her, and not because of what I'd been given to drink.

When we passed inspection, towels were handed to us to complete our baths, and soon we were retracing our steps of almost three hours ago, back to the dining room. Once there, Carol, Helga, and I were again handcuffed and chained to the stone column while their husbands, my wife, and the two other men sat at a nearby table, enjoying their delicious-looking brunch. As had been the case at breakfast, bowls were placed on the floor almost out of our reach, and we were forced to stretch our restraints to the utmost in order to suck up the soup they contained. The best part of the "meal," for me at least, came when the bowl had been licked clean, and it was refilled with cool water. I had tried to drink some of the bath water that had been sprayed on us earlier, but that had been so unsuccessful as to leave me very thirsty, and judging by the actions of the two women, they felt the same.

We had barely had time to lap up the water before our spouses were unfastening our handcuffs and chains. From the urgent way they tugged on the chains to lead us out the door, I knew the three of them were just as anxious as I to once again be in the stables. Since Carol and Helga seemed to be doing their best to hurry, there was no doubting they were equally anxious to get the afternoon's "festivities" underway just as soon as possible.

I remember nothing at all of our second journey to the stables, other than how hot the walkway was on my bare feet. I'm sure the same lawn, the same trees, and the same buildings were there, just as they had been that morning, but I have no memory whatsoever of them. Suffice it to say that my next clear recollection is of entering the dimly-lit room where we had been bred that morning, and wishing my eyes would adjust quickly so I could gaze at the wonderful mounting table, and hope I'd soon be secured there.

As before, Herr Trotter and Herr Nunnemacher were already in the room, and after again welcoming us, our host said, "I'm sure you will find this afternoon's entertainment even more enjoyable than this morning's. Both Herr Schmitt and Frau ______ (my wife), have suggested their spouses are ready for additional activities, and they have persuaded Herr Braunfels that our dear Carol needs to also experience it." As our spouses nodded in agreement, our host continued, "Since Carol is the only virgin among the three, I suggest she be first on the table." Addressing her husband, he said, "Is that agreeable?" Herr Braunfels' enthusiasm was obvious from the eager nodding of his head, and with no further ado he began jerking his wife's labia chain to lead her where we all wanted her to be.

She was soon lying on her stomach on the mounting table, and was quickly secured in the same way as she had been that morning. The only difference came when Herr Nunnemacher handed a wide leather belt to her husband, and I watched perplexed as he placed it around her upper legs, then secured it tightly to hooks on each side of her body. The effect was to cover her pussy completely, but to leave her perfect heinie exposed and vulnerable.

She had been craning her neck, watching the preparations with the type of concentration that accompanies intense sexual arousal, her only response being to breathe more rapidly as each step was completed. However, when she saw the belt, she shook her head, almost as in disbelief. By the time her husband had secured it in place, she was shaking her head, gasping over and over, "No! Please! Not there! No! Please!" For his part, her husband ignored her protestations until she had been reduced to an immobile sex object, arrayed for the pleasure of everyone in the room.

He placed the top platform above her body, then took the bottle of attractant from Herr Trotter. He quickly swabbed a generous amount between her widespread butt cheeks, being careful to anoint only the puckered opening. When she continued to protest what was sure to happen, with or without her consent, her husband slapped her beautiful cheeks several times in succession. He said angrily, "Shut your mouth, you slut! The only reason I consented to bring you here was because of your whining and begging. Now shut up!"

The bound woman became quiet then, and hung her head as if in resignation. I'm sure everyone there noticed, as I had, that her breathing continued to be rapid. The tiny movements she was making to strain her butt upward, and thereby stretch her labia chain, were mute affirmation that her protests were for show only, and not for real. As she had been with the ram that morning, she was a willing participant in the special type of "deflowering" that she would soon experience.

Again a clattering of hooves drew my attention, and this time they were accompanied by a series of explosive grunts. As before, Herr Nunnemacher was leading an animal toward the mounting table and the woman tied there, ready to be bred. Instead of a ram, though, her lover this time was to be a boar, and his desire to do his duty was evident in his excited grunts and squeals as he caught the scent of the liquid that had been swabbed on Carol's tight opening.

The boar placed his front feet on the lower platform, then began to nose her bottom, savoring the smell of the artificial pheromone. Several times he raised his snout high while inhaling deeply, until at last his tiny brain confirmed what he'd hoped for: the woman was ready to be bred.

That was the only signal he needed, and in a single motion he placed his rear feet on the lower platform and his forefeet on the upper. He was then at the perfect height to do what was required, and his curiously-twisted penis unsheathed fully and began to poke the leather belt. He immediately corrected his aim, and then to the delighted catcalls of everyone there, expect for Carol and me, his organ found its target and began to piston in and out of her puckered opening.

The first plunge of her lover's penis broke her silence, and she began to echo the boar's grunts, and the lust and arousal in her animal sounds were evident to everyone in the room. After several seconds, her hands formed into tight fists as further evidence of her lustful arousal. Every grunt she made was timed to the thrusts she was making, each one the opposite of the pig's own thrusts. Again and again he pushed his engorged cock into her butt, and again and again she countered his movements by pushing back against him, causing herself to be impaled to the maximum extent possible.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her husband move to stand in front of his wife as she was being bred by the boar. As he had done just hours before, he unfastened his trousers and let them fall to the floor, then pulled his cock out of the opening in his undershorts. His arousal was surely the equal of Carol's, and almost before she could open her mouth, he was holding her ears and moving his hips forward. In a split second, he was timing his frenzied thrusts to those of his wife and the pig, and they began to move like a carefully-choreographed dance. As the boar withdrew from her puckered opening, she moved her body forward at the same time as her husband was attempting to bury his engorged cock in her throat. As the boar's frenzied body pushed his penis deeper inside her, she threw her hips backwards against him, while the organ in her mouth was withdrawing. It was a ballet as old as time, but far more exciting than any ever staged in an opera house. I have watched the videotape of the coupling of the three lovers for hours on end, and never tire of it. I just wish it were possible for me to again see it in person, as I did that first time.

When the boar at last reached the peak of his arousal, he began to squeal so loudly that it actually hurt my ears, even though sounds were still muted for me by the drug. I saw many of the other watchers hold their hands over their ears, while they laughed uncontrollably at the demonstration of passion displayed there before us. Even when the pig had quieted, they continued to laugh and applaud as first Carol, and then her husband, also reached their own climaxes.

At last the boar dismounted, leaving her beautiful heinie still moving uncontrollably as her orgasm continued to surge through her lovely body. Even that movement had to come to an end eventually, and it did, probably because she was given something else to draw her attention. That something else was her husband's orgasm, and it was accompanied by his own grunts of passion, which were just as fervent as any of those of his wife and her lover.

He stood there in exhaustion for several seconds, watching Herr Trotter insert the plug in her now-stretched anus. After the belt was removed, a realistic-looking pigtail was inserted in her pussy, and she looked for all the world like a pig lying on its back. Of course, that brought further catcalls and applause.

That part of her degradation at an end, Herr Braunfels then slowly released his wife from her imprisonment. As he had done earlier that day, after she had been bred by the ram, he helped her to her feet, then pulled her so close they seemed to be only one person. In a husky voice, he asked, "Was it better than the ram this morning?"

Her only response was to sigh loudly, then whisper, "Yes. You were right. It needed to be done." That caused everyone, except me, of course, to begin applauding and loudly congratulating her for graduating from her status as a "back-door virgin." As for me, I was consumed by two emotions. At the same time, I was both fearful, and hopeful, that before much longer I'd once again be forced to serve this beautiful woman as I had so shortly before, but this time at a slightly different location on her lovely body.

It was then Helga's turn to be led to the mounting table, to the accompaniament of cries of pain as her clit chain was jerked savagely by her husband. As with Carol, it was evident to all of us gathered there that she went willingly, but put on a show of resistance to give the appearance of reluctance. Soon enough, she was bound face down to the table, with her ample cheeks spread wide and the wide leather belt covering her vagina, to prevent its "accidental" penetration.

This time, though, a new twist was added. When the top platform was added, I saw that it was not the same one that had been used with Carol, just minutes before. Instead, it was much longer, and when installed above the ample body lying there, it extended almost past her head. In addition to that, a second low platform was placed on the floor beneath her head, and that simple action caused her to begin to whine, "No, please! Mein Gott, no! Don't make me do that, please!" Her husband paid no attention, merely swabbed her lips with the same fluid that had been used on Carol's beautiful heinie. I had no idea what that implied, but my accepting brain didn't try to question the new development.

Almost before the liquid was swabbed on her puckered opening, I again heard the sound of hooves striking the hard floor, and the anxious squeals and grunts. When my head turned, along with the other watchers, I saw that two boars, and not one as before, were being led toward the table. Herr Nunnemacher handed one leash to his employer, and then continued on to position his animal behind Helga, where it began to nose her opening, all the while grunting and squealing.

The second boar was led around the table, and it quickly located the source of the enticing aroma that told it the bound woman was in heat. Acting almost at exactly the same time, the two boars placed their feet on the lower platforms, then lifted their front legs to the upper. The boar at her rear end immediately began thrusting its member at her puckered opening, and quickly found admission there.

Herr Schmitt was kneeling beside his wife's head, and as the second pig reared up, its penis unsheathing more by the second, he said harshly, "Open your snout, you pig bitch! Do it now, you dirty sow!" As if those tender words were what she'd been waiting to hear, Helga's lips parted to their maximum separation. The boar's cock entered her mouth unerringly, and as if that were their signal, her lips closed on it and I saw her cheeks draw in as she began to suck. The cheering, catcalls, and applause from the watchers were so loud as to nearly drown out the grunts and squeals of her two lovers, but eventually everyone quieted and watched in fascination as the immense woman was bred at both ends by the animals her husband had chosen for her. Her eyes were clamped shut, and I knew from my own personal experience that she was deeply immersed in a fantasy of her own making, and it was making her hotter by the second.

The boar who was breeding her in the butt was the first to finish, and he signaled his release with a squeal that threatened to break the windows. He then lay his head on the platform for a few seconds, as he recovered his strength. Then, as if what had just happened was nothing out of the ordinary, he withdrew his penis from Helga's rear end and stepped off the platform, ready to be led back to his pen.

The second pig was still pumping away, his organ buried so deeply in the woman's mouth that it was surely partway down her throat. Her lips continued to hold her prize tightly, and her cheeks rhythmically drew in and out as she sucked. As it would have done with any man she so treated in that way, the thing in her mouth could not resist the stimulation. With a squeal to equal the one we'd heard moments before, the boar thrust so strongly against her that her head snapped back. When I was allowed to watch the film of that happening, I realized that only the upper platform prevented an injury, although at the time I gave no thought to it. My only focus then was the fact that a man had tied his wife to a mounting table, and she had been forced to suck a pig's penis. Not only that, but she seemed to be far beyond merely enjoying it; she was avidly licking and sucking the thing with every fiber of her being.

As the boar withdrew its penis from Helga's mouth, I heard the familiar sound of leather striking flesh, and looked back to see Herr Nunnemacher savagely whipping the woman's monstrous cheeks. As the red stripes multiplied, her now-empty mouth began to emit grunts and squeals that were surely the equal of any the two pigs had made. That hers were caused by the same stimulus became evident when her head snapped back so far as to again strike the platform above her. At the same time, she hissed, "Mein Gotttttttt!!" Time seemed to stand still as she held that pose, and then her head drooped down and her body seemed to deflate. Once again, I envied her ability to cum, and wished more than anything that I could join her in finding that sort of release.

As had been done with Carol, Helga's openings were plugged with the same things, but in her case they were much larger. I recalled her husband's conversation with Herr Trotter, during which he'd said she was ready for the stallion. Based on the size of the plugs, I had no reason to doubt that at all.

Far too slowly for me, the big woman was released and helped off the table. Words of congratulation and praise came from the others, and if I could have done so, I'd have joined in. What she'd done, or more accurately what had been done to her while on the table, was far and away the most exciting thing I'd ever seen or heard of. I was sure that no matter what happened when it was my turn, my own performance would never come even close to matching it.

Kathy chose that moment to say, almost as if reading my thoughts, "Now it's your turn, honey. What we're going to do to you will be hotter than anything they've ever seen."

With those words, she jerked the glans chain with all her strength. I followed as she led me to the mounting table, wishing I had the capability to make it appear as if I were reluctant.