My Crotch-Sniffing Dog

Introduction:
You’ve heard of drug-sniffing dogs and you’ve heard of bomb-sniffing dogs. Well, I have a crotch-sniffing dog. Now wait a minute here, you’re probably thinking. What’s the big deal? All dogs go around sniffing crotches. That’s true, but my dog has been specially trained to sniff out and identify fertile, human females ready to be fucked into motherhood.
This isn’t some science fiction story about some dog that rapes and knocks up women. No sir! I’m the one who knocks them up. My dog Spike just points the right ones out to me, so to speak. Heck! Spike couldn’t fuck puppies into a bitch. He’s fixed, you see. I got him at the animal shelter. They’re the ones who insisted he be neutered before I “adopted” him. Well, I got him for his nose and neutering him didn’t hurt that any. By now I’m sure you think I’m a complete bastard and you’d be right. But if my story is interesting, so what? Just bear with me for a bit.
I was born and raised in a working class environment. I won’t bore you with the details of my early life since it’s not important to my story. My father was a drunk and my mother was a dutiful wife. I was the oldest in a family of three sons and four daughters. When I turned 16 I was told to quit school and get a job to help support the family. Well, I quit school but when I walked out the door to find a job I never returned. I drifted from odd job to odd job until I was 18. I then got a job driving a truck and I’ve stuck with that type of work ever since.
I’m not ugly but I’m not exactly a charmer either. My success with women was always hit and miss. I usually accepted rejection like a gentleman but my one pet peeve was for a woman to string me along while expecting me to spend time and money on her. One time I’d spent a whole pay check to wine and dine this bitch. We went to this exclusive nightclub after dinner where there’s always a ton of people waiting to get in. I tipped, or rather bribed the doorman a hundred bucks to get us in. Not ten minutes after we were seated the bitch let herself get picked up by some other guy and dumped me! Needless to say I was pissed.
I got my revenge by raping her. Knowing her habits and schedule, I caught her alone where it was dark and deserted. I came up from behind and grabbed her. I then threw a bag over her head, shoved her into some bushes and tore off her clothes. Raping her was pure pleasure. I porked her mercilessly. Since she couldn’t identify me I got away clean.
Later when I heard she was pregnant by her rapist I couldn’t have been more pleased. In fact I nearly came in my trousers just thinking about it. My career as a rapist had begun.
Think about it. I saved a ton of money on dating and could pick and choose my “dates.” The most attractive women were accessible whether or not they were married or had a sweetheart. The only drawback, of course, was if I were caught, I’d be probably spending the rest of my life in prison. That possibility didn’t stop me although I tried to be as cautious as possible.
Within a year I’d raped several more women. I knocked up a couple of them and that’s when I realized the biggest charge I got was when I knew my victim was going to give birth to my bastard. My big fantasy now was to impregnate every woman I raped. Well how do you make sure the woman you want to fuck and impregnate is fertile? How do you know you’re not risking everything for a woman who’s on the Pill?
It’s impossible. I’ve read plenty of those online stories where the heroine gets knocked up so easily. This is not so in real life. It was a puzzle I was determined to solve.
Despite being a high school dropout I consider myself pretty smart. If I’d completed high school and gone on to college I might have made something of myself. I love books. I spent countless hours in public libraries in a program of self-education in the arts and sciences. I became well informed and I can hold my own in conversations with many professionals regarding their own specialties. In all my research I never ran across anyway to test a woman’s fertility without resorting to blood or urine analysis or checking body temperature. For my purpose none of this was tenable.
I was sitting in a bar one day nursing a beer. There was only one other patron in the place. I was watching a piece on the television news concerning the use of drug-sniffing dogs at the U.S.-Mexico border.
“They should have dogs who could sniff out women who were ready to have a baby fucked into them,” I said. I was talking back to the television out loud.
“It’s possible,” said the other customer who was sitting a few stools away from me. “Dogs right now are being trained to detect certain diseases in humans. The results have been very encouraging. Since every organic compound gives off a signature odor the dog can be trained to signal its handler when it detects the odor that we’re looking for. Healthy people have odors just like diseased people. I think a dog could be trained to detect the scent of a healthy adult female at the peak of her fertility cycle.”
Now this guy definitely had my attention. I introduced myself and bought him a drink. He turned out to be a biochemist. His name was Gustavo and once he warmed to his subject he was hard to stop. I didn’t want to stop him. I was an eager listener. The company he was working for was one of many trying to develop devices, which could detect the presence of compounds down to a few parts per billion. The Holy Grail of this research was to develop a detector as sensitive as a dog’s nose. The dog’s sense of smell is immensely more powerful than a human’s. This goal is still years away from realization.
I asked Gustavo if he could synthesize the odor emitted by a healthy ovulating female. He said it had already been done by a colleague of his and offered to get me a sample. He never even asked why I wanted it. Gustavo was a problem solver and loved to help people. I’m sure he would have been horrified if he had known my intentions.
After exchanging information with Gustavo I started calling around to various centers that trained detection dogs and their handlers. Virtually all of them dealt with drugs and explosives and couldn’t understand why I wanted to a dog trained for one scent. I finally started telling them that I wanted a truffle-hunting dog. Truffles are a rare type of fungi that are used in gourmet food dishes. They grow underground. Dogs and sows are used to smell them out.
I was finally referred to a semi-retired trainer who was willing to work with me. He didn’t care what kind of scent the dog would be trained for. He’s the one who took me to the animal shelter and picked out Spike for me. He had a good eye for dogs and felt that Spike would be a perfect candidate for training.
I live a fairly Spartan existence so I had plenty of money saved. Since I had to undergo training as a handler as well as participate in Spike’s training I quit my job. It all set me back quite a bit financially but the results were worth it. Spike and me hit it off pretty well with each other. With Gustavo’s sample in hand we started our training. Twelve weeks later our trainer declared us a fairly competent team.
After a bit of field-testing and dry runs with Spike it became obvious that some adjustments would have to be made in his training. For one thing no woman likes a dog sniffing at her crotch. I know! I know! Duh!
Spike had to learn to do his crotch sniffing from a safe distance. I discovered that most women weren’t even aware of Spike until he was within five yards of them. Eventually he learned to stay out of this awareness zone. Spike could still get the needed scent if he was downwind of his target. He also learned to just sit and wait for the target to walk by.
Spike responded well to my whistles and hand signals from a distance so he knew when to stay and when to move on without me having to get close enough for me to get noticed. If I was ever arrested I didn’t want Spike to be connected to my activities. As far as anyone was concerned the dog was just a pet. I had a good friend who would take care of Spike and make a good home for him if anything happened to me.
The only thing I couldn’t teach Spike was my tastes in women. He was scent oriented and I guess they all looked alike to him but he never failed to signal me when he caught the scent. His signal was a pawing of the ground with his right foreleg.
Once I was satisfied with the adjustments I made in his training I took Spike to a dog-friendly park for some serious prospecting. He immediately got to work.
The first potential Spike identified was a young teenage girl. She was a pretty little thing. As much as I would have loved to put a baby in her belly I decided to pass on her. You see the cops are basically pretty lazy. They wait for a guy to make a mistake or otherwise fall in their laps before they make a move.
However when a youngster is a victim the cops get energetic and start doing real police work. For that reason I lean toward women who look at least old enough to buy a drink.
Spike did some more exploration and for one reason or another, I had to pass on the bitches he identified. Usually it was because they had company, either children or another adult. Some of them just weren’t to my taste. On our second lap through the park we hit pay dirt. A vision of beauty walked by Spike and he signaled me. She looked to be in her early twenties, 5′ 7″ and about 125 pounds. The bitch had a slim waist, wide hips and a nice set of tits. I knew right there that I wanted her. She would bear healthy children and be a good mother. Before another hour had passed I wanted this bitch to be carrying my seed deep inside her body.
The future mother of my child had shoulder length brown hair and a light complexion. She was wearing sunglasses, casual top, loose-fitting slacks and walking shoes. She was carrying a small purse hanging from her shoulder and a paperback book. It looked like she’d just arrived to relax and read. I signaled Spike to go back to my pickup truck. There he had access to food, water and his favorite chew toy. He would sit there patiently and wait while I attended to business.
Because of the nature of my quest there’s an urgency to act in a timely manner. I just can’t wait and follow a bitch around until she’s in a convenient place for me to nail her. There’s a certain amount of risk I have to take. Even waiting a little while might cause her to fall out of optimum fertility.
I thought I lost my chance when my bitch sat down in the open. There was no way I could get to her there. Luck was with me when some kids started playing soccer nearby. Disturbed by the noise and proximity my bitch moved off into a wooded area on her way to the other side of the park, which was usually quieter.
I entered the woods from a different direction and stationed myself where I knew she must pass. I concealed myself and prepared my rape kit. It consists of latex gloves, ski mask, a lubricating gel and a tranquilizing spray powder. The latex gloves are to prevent me leaving fingerprints behind. The ski mask, of course, is to hide my face. The gel is to provide an easy entrance when I start to fuck my bitch. Quite often my victims are still dry when I first penetrate them. It’s uncomfortable trying to fuck a dry cunt. After three or four strokes the cunt starts producing its own lubricant and then the gel isn’t needed. The powder is something I discovered in Mexico. It’s making its way through the criminal underground there. It’s not yet known in the U.S. but when it is I predict that it will become the date rape drug of choice. The drug has acquired a nickname but since I don’t know Spanish I just call it Dust.
Dust is inhaled. It gives the user an euphoric feeling. For my purposes it lowers my victim’s resistance and makes her more pliable. With the exception of my very first rape I don’t like to struggle with my bitches. It leads to the possibility of injury both for myself and my quarry. Really it’s for the same reason I don’t mess with minors. A battered rape victim gets the police and public all worked up. With the exception of a belly full of sperm and a few grass or dirt stains on their clothes I like to leave my victims a lot like I found them.
I was ready for my bitch by the time I saw her strolling down the path. I grabbed the beauty from behind all right. She drew in breath to scream and got her lungs full of Dust instead. I held her mouth and dragged her off the path and behind some bushes. I held her until the drug did its job. It only takes a few seconds.
“Don’t fight me and you won’t get hurt,” I whispered. I didn’t expect an answer. Complete disorientation can last for as long as two minutes and all I got was a moan in response. I searched her for weapons and alarm devices. I found a cell phone but no whistles, pepper spray, knives or other weapons. I took the time to fondle her tits. Yeah, they were nice ones all right. I would love to do the same thing when they were filled with milk. I had peeked at her driver’s license when I searched her purse so I already knew her name and address. Karen is a nice name. She was wearing a wedding ring so I guess she was married.
I stepped away for a second to retrieve the book she dropped. Interesting title. It looked like a horror novel. There was a picture of a damsel in distress on the cover. This girl’s experience in horror was going to be real life, not some vicarious thrill out of a book.
I knew I’d chosen a nice private place for my encounter with Karen. The area was scattered with discarded condoms so I guessed other “lovers” were not afraid of being disturbed in this area. Karen was lying flat on her stomach. I pulled her up to a crouching position and pulled down her slacks and panties. This seemed to wake her out of her drugged state a bit and she began to struggle although listlessly and ineffectively.
“Please don’t do this. I’ll give you all the money I have,” she pleaded.
“Don’t worry about money,” I responded. “I’m not charging you a thing.”
Karen didn’t seem to appreciate my attempt at humor. She wiggled a bit harder when she felt my prick nudge aside her labia and penetrate her. I always anticipate another attempt at a scream when I start fucking them. This bitch was no exception. I grabbed her around the mouth before she got much more than a squeak out.
“You don’t listen very well. The next time you make a sound above a whisper I’ll gag you and tie you up. Would you like that?” Karen shook her head as best she could. I let go and went back to concentrating on the task at hand.
Karen’s snatch felt nice and tight to my prick. She was no virgin but I didn’t care about that. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever fucked a virgin cunt. When I started my in and out Karen went limp as if that would deny me pleasure. I guess she thought that no guy would enjoy fucking a piece of dead meat. Hell! I didn’t care. She could have pretended to be asleep and it wouldn’t have bothered me. My pleasure came from the knowledge that my sperm was going to penetrate her egg and start a baby growing inside her.
I like my sperm to do the job nature intended it to do. That’s why I’m not into oral, anal or facials. If I have the time and inclination I’ll fuck my victim again and all of my sperm will wind up in her snatch.
I heard someone’s steps coming along the path. This wasn’t good. I stopped fucking Karen and held my hand over her mouth again until I heard the steps fading. It was time to finish up and get out of there. I sped up my pace until I felt my prick swell and begin to squirt my cum into her reproductive system. Karen felt it also and just whimpered. I pushed her back down flat on her stomach and just lay on top of her.
“I love you, Karen,” I whispered. “I’ve always loved you.” She appeared startled. Was her assailant someone she knew? I wasn’t going to enlighten her. I pinched her nose with one hand and gave her another dose of Dust with the other. This allows me plenty of time to get away. Trying to be a gentleman I pulled Karen’s panties and slacks back up around her waist. I stepped behind a tree, removed my mask and gloves and stowed them. I stepped back on the path and wandered casually back to my truck where Spike awaited my return.
I had already arranged to take a load of farm equipment up to Bakersfield. When Spike and me returned I checked the newspapers for any mention of the rape but there was none. This is not unusual. Very few of my rapes have been reported to the police. The few rapes that have been reported made no mention of a man with a dog.
I can’t claim that every one of my rapes since I started working with Spike has resulted in a baby but my percentages are up. Karen was one of the successes. I try to keep track of my bitches and I know she had a baby at the right time. The baby has my hair color. Karen must have convinced her husband that the baby was his. I have over twenty sons and daughters now. Almost all of their mothers were crotch-sniffed by Spike.
Spike and I had the opportunity to thank Gustavo for his help and inspiration. I became a close friend of Gustavo and his wife Clara. Clara was trying to get pregnant but hadn’t been successful yet. I was in their back yard talking with them. Spike was wandering around but then I saw him signal me. Clara was at optimum fertility.
“Is she pregnant yet?” Clara had returned to the house and I was alone with Gustavo.
“No. Not yet.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“Right now would be a good time to try.”
“And how do you know that, my friend?” He sounded irritated and I was afraid that I had insulted Gustavo.
“Because Spike knows.”
He looked at Spike. It took a few seconds for him to understand but then he started smiling. Spike and I left so that Gustavo could take care of business. Their first child was born exactly nine months later.
The End

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