The Room (12 page)

When the quartet stopped playing and rested, refreshing themselves by sucking the succulent honey, he watched with fascination as muscles twitched spasmodically in time to the continuing accompaniment of the ever louder and deeper panting. But now there was a new sound. One that punctuated the panting accompaniment and the lyrical melody still heard in his head. The staccato beating of their hearts. And then the muscles tightened and the music was replaced with the most beautiful sound of all. Their screams.

He listened joyfully for many minutes then slowly picked up the cattle prods and walked toward them, his eyes never looking anywhere but in theirs. Now, now, we cant have all that noise. What would the neighbors say? A series of giggles jerked out of him. How many millions did they pay for that rembrandt? Whatever it was, and however beautiful that painting is, nothing could be more beautiful and exciting than this picture. What could be more excitingly beautiful than the blatant terror in their eyes. He chortled as he stared into their eyes, his swimming with ecstasy as he nestled in the beautiful sight and listened to the heavenly music of the flies sucking the honey from their pricks, the soothing cacophony of their strangled screams,
the throbbing beat of their panicked hearts. Dont you know that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and his laugh soared and prevailed through the music as he jammed the cattle prods into their scrotums again and again as their screams and howls infused him with more and more energy and he jabbed harder and harder, then stood back and surveyed this masterpiece of sight and sound, his body trembling with such an abundance of excitement and energy that every cell of his body and being tingled and vibrated and the music inspired him to wave the prods like batons while his eyes sucked in every minute detail of the living canvas he painted – the beauty of the bulging eyes, the distorted and distended tongues, the flush of the flesh, the little beads of sweat that glistened and glimmered and dripped, drop by drop, into the bulging eyes and burned with joyous intensity, and the dribble of spittle. He waved his batons and brushes until the music built to the point of needing a crashing crescendo and he twirled behind them and thrust his instruments of creation into their fucking assholes and twisted and shoved until the crescendo lifted him from himself and his body trembled with such exquisite joy that his hands slid from the instruments of joy and his body was slowly and softly lowered to the floor, his eyes fixed on the animated prods hanging from their asses, and was delivered by the heavenly music to a peaceful slumber. He turned on his side and put his folded hands under the side of his head, his legs slightly bent at the knees, his body as completely relaxed as ever a body could be by the soft murmuring of a lullaby.

He wasnt certain how long this part of the training program lasted – days, weeks, but however long it was glorious and extremely effective. Pain is such an effective teacher. During the other phases of the indoctrination he would flog them when they erred, but didnt waste too much energy with the cat-o’-nine-tails, but simply put them back in their basic classroom. As he said many times, he simply wired them for learning.

Teaching them to be good watchdogs, to be ever alert and vigilant, was another phase of their training that required much wiring. It was not only necessary from the point of view of their training, but also
to allow him to obtain the proper amount of rest. It eventually boiled down to teaching them always to be half-awake no matter what time of the day or night. At first he would simply walk up to their kennel in the middle of the night, not trying to be quiet. But they continued to sleep until he flogged them awake. He then left and returned later warning them that they must bark and howl at the first sound. It was a very tedious job, but necessary. At first he flogged them and returned in an hour or half an hour, but when he was still able to open the door of the kennel without them barking he simply wired them and retired for the night.

In a few days he had a schedule that allowed him to obtain the maximum amount of rest and training time. He simply left them wired during the day and slept. After a few days of this they became more alert and most of the time they barked before he opened the kennel door. He started making notes of how close he was to them before they started barking so he would have a constant record of their improvement. Finally, one night, they barked and howled each time he approached them and each time he was further from them, so he allowed them to rest and one wire was removed from each. He told them what good dogs they were and patted them on their heads. He studied them closely as the relief flowed over their entire beings and they collapsed on the floor and groveled into a sleep. He quickly flogged them and told them to keep their tongues out like the good dogs they are or I/ll just have to wire you again. Or maybe I should just nail your tongues to the floor, that way it would be much easier to keep them out. He burst into laughter as panic swallowed them and their tongues were shoved from their mouths. He threw them both a bone and left them to their rest, still laughing.

An hour or so later he walked quietly into the kennel and stood over them as they continued to sleep. He shook his head and smiled as he thrust the prods up their asses. I guess youll never learn. When he left later they were wired and strained all through the remainder of the night to hear the approaching steps so they could howl and bark and be once more relieved of the torturing wires. He slept soundly, and peacefully, until early in the afternoon.

Eventually, because of his mercy, and the boredom of playing the
same game over and over, he allowed them to sleep through an entire night, as best they could, and the next day went on to another phase of their training.

What happened was that he suddenly realized that they just werent eating properly. They had learned to beg, with the aid of the wires, as they should, and when he threw them scraps from his table they were able to catch them most of the time, but they hadnt learned many things as yet. Up to now he had allowed them to more or less sip their water from their bowls, but now it was time for them to do it properly. He explained what was expected of them then led them to their bowls and told them simply, lap you bastards, lap. It only took a few hours and a few jabs of the prods for them to learn. He continued to check on them from time to time, but for the most part they were good dogs and learned their lessons well. Or, as he told them occasionally, youre wiry, and laughed.

It took a while for them to learn how to bury and dig up a bone, but that was less difficult than getting them to eat a piece of gristle that had been buried for a day or two. But he felt it was important for them to learn how to do this as soon as possible. After all, who knows what the future might have in store. They might get lost in the woods and be forced to eat the rotten remains of some dead animal. A dog should be able to survive no matter what the circumstances. And too, it was a good way to remind them that they were dogs. And there was another advantage to a diet of rotten meat. When he gave them a can of succulent dog food it was a rare treat and one to be relished. At first they didnt seem to realize that he was doing this for their own good no matter how often he told them and gave a detailed explanation of the situation. For some reason the rotting and dirt-covered gristle sickened them and they insisted upon puking on their food. He empathized and thoroughly understood, but he also knew it was his duty to train his animals properly. So he sighed, with a slight chuckle, and adjusted the wires so they couldnt move their faces more than a few inches above their food. Im sorry, but I guess you just have to learn everything the hard way. You get nothing else until thats finished. He wasnt certain how long it took to finish, but eventually they got it all down. At first he tried leaving them alone and letting
hunger force them, but that would take too long, and there were many things yet to be learned. So he simply prodded them into finishing their meal. A most delicious repast he referred to as gristle à la puke, as he shoved the prods deeper into their asses, laughing and coaching, eat, eat. Soon they accepted everything with relish and gratitude and wolfed it down as rapidly as possible.

One day, toward the end of this particular training period, something happened that made him laugh so much he almost loosened the wires holding one of his animals. When the meat was dug up there were usually many little friends of various kinds still munching on their dinner, and at first this created a bit of a problem until they finally realized that they too were part of their dinner. As he explained to them, you cant get fresher meat than that. But one day there must have been an exceptionally large amount of rather tenacious ants on one piece and a few of them lost their sense of direction and crawled up the nose of the eater. The dog howled pitfully and threw its head in insane gyrations, its balls straining at the wires. He laughed and watched with utter and complete fascination as the animal went through a series of contortions that were unbelievable. The ants must have panicked when they found themselves stuck in his nose and ran crazily to free themselves from the sticky mucus, but continued to lose the battle against the great rush of air that sucked them further and further into the darkness. And the more the dog fought against the minute giants in his nose the more he yanked on the wires twisted around his balls. The scene was so funny that he almost fainted with laughter. He wanted to ask his dog which was worse, the itch in the nose or the noose around his balls, but couldnt stop laughing long enough to speak. Finally he just staggered out of the kennel, his eyes and nose dripping from laughter.

He now decided that it was time for them to learn to make love. His dogs were different in many ways from most dogs, but he realized that the sexual drive in all animals was very strong and so he thought it only proper that he should teach his dogs the proper way to screw. He didnt anticipate any problems with the actual screwing itself, but
he thought the mounting might prove to be a problem and he was certain that there would be certain objections to the preliminaries. But he loved his animals and was willing to be patient and help them in any way he could. After all, they were rather large animals and might need more guidance than the ordinary dog. But they were well wired for learning so he didnt anticipate too much trouble.

When he explained their next lesson to them they seemed to be repelled by the idea, but he patiently explained that they had to learn to be good dogs, and all good dogs start with their nose. He told them he didnt think it was necessary for him to lecture them about the proper procedure, after all everyone has observed animals and is familiar with their particular overtures and preliminaries to the act of love. You are no different from any other kid in the streets or on a farm, giggling and laughing as you watched a male sniffing a bitches snatch. Shit, how many times have you sniffed your old ladys snatch and given it a few healthy laps with your tongue. This is no different except now your old lady looks a little different and you have a nice tight asshole to sniff and lap. And dont tell me you think its a shitty idea, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA … … hahahahehehe. Just think of the advantages. You dont have to fight your way through a rough bush. Its like having a nice young bald pussy. hahahahahahahaha. Dogs love to chew up pussies.

o.k. Lets get going.

He stretched out on the floor and leaned against the wall and gave a gentle tug on the wires. You must be the mommy and you must be the daddy.

He gave another tug on the daddys wire, reminding him to start with his nose. He watched quietly and calmly as his bitch stood frozen with terror as she awaited the cold nose and wet tongue of her mate. He stood behind her staring at her wide expanse of ass deeply cleaved, all lines of light and shadow leading to her dark, wet hole. He made a half-hearted attempt to narrow the gap between his nose and her tightened ass, but automatically stopped and waited for the inevitable tug on the wire.

But their beloved trainer tugged not. He watched
the scene with complete and penetrating awareness that made tugging the wire unnecessary, now. Instead he watched with quiet pride at the evidence that his long and patient work was fruitful. They stood on all fours like dogs, their tongues hung and quivered like dogs. They panted like dogs. They looked and smelled like dogs. And he knew they werent acting a part. They were dogs. A prideful joy warmed him. And while he luxuriated in the soothing timelessness of the scene his joy and warmth multiplied and multiplied over and over with the realization that for them time was endless and alive with paralyzing dread and terror as they awaited the inevitable yank of the wire that would propel them into the repugnant act. It was beautiful to look at their outsides and feel their insides. It was too bad he hadnt kept a constant photographic record. But actually that wasnt necessary. He could remember, vividly, what they were like when he started training them and appreciate the fruits of his labors as he leaned against the wall, wires in hand, and watched his animals.

He continued to drift weightlessly through infinite time as they felt the crushing burden of impending time …

O.K., you fucking faggots, yanking the wires, get that nose up her asshole.

His hounds howled and he kept a slight pressure on the wires as he guided their movements like a puppet master. Go on sniff it, sniff it you sonofabitch, tugging, guiding, jam your fucking nose in that bitches snatch. Thats it, sniff. Sniff you bastard, sniff. Take a good deep whiff. Comeon. Comeon. Get it in there. Bury it you bastard. Bury it in that bitches bumgut … Thats it. Thats a good dog. Now take a good deep sniff … Yeah. Thats the way. Now kiss it so she/ll know you love her … Good dog. Again. Yeah. Again. A nice big soul kiss. Comeon. Get that tongue in there. In. In. In. Deeper. Deeper. I can still see part of it. Deeper you mangy, fucking hound. Deeper. Bury your face in that bitches cruddy ass. Hahahahahaha. Thata boy. Thata boy. Enjoy your taste of honey. Hahahahahahahahaha … …

Now its time for the lovers circle. Comeon. Dont look at me like that. You know what I mean. Youre dogs. Dogs! Theres a nose
and tongue for each asshole. Comeon. This is a lovers circle, not a fucking square dance. Thats it. Thats it. Now you got the idea. And dont worry about those dangling dongs or hairy balls. Just concentrate on the assholes. Hahahahahahah … Thats it. Concentrate on the assholes, you assholes … … hahahaha