Uncle Larry’s Puppy Farm
By: Susan Michelle Scott
Part One: My Life Changes
My life changed when I was eighteen. On trip to Europe my parents were killed in the train station bombing in Madrid. It was supposed to be their second honeymoon, and I’d been left with my Uncle Larry, at his farm, for the summer while the second honeymoon was underway. My high school grades hadn’t been particularly outstanding and I was planning to start at a community college in the fall. My uncle’s farm was in the rolling hills outside Gilroy, California. On the farm my Uncle Larry grew garlic, acres and acres of garlic. Gilroy California prides itself on being the, ‘Garlic Capital of the World’.
It was pretty strange, living with my uncle. He looked at me in a lingering way, with hunger in his eyes at least once a day. Of course, by the time I was eighteen, like most girls, I was use to men looking at me. I’m not all that special to look at, I’m short, not even five feet tall, thin, 93 pounds soaking wet, with small AA cup breasts, kind of wide hips, and dark brown hair. Just the same, lots of men were interested, but I knew that most of them were only interested in what was in my bra and panties, rather than what was in my head or heart. I gotten use to the looks from older men too, you know, guys over thirty, looked at me with hunger; the look of hunger was sharper with guys who were older than 40.
I learned quickly that Uncle Larry liked to look, but he wasn’t going to rape me. A month after my parents died I asked him about the looking and he said, “Shucks, Joy,” which is my name, “when I was your age, I’d get all hot and bothered just being around any girl for a minute. When I grew older, I still had the feelings, and enjoyed the looking, but the excitement didn’t go right to my bad thing, like it did when I was your age. For that I needed to touch and kiss the girl.
“Then, it started to take more than just touching and kissing, it had to be naked flesh. Since then I need more, you’ll learn plenty about that when you are older. For now, just remember that I love to look, but you don’t have anything to worry about. I won’t be trying to do more than enjoy the sight of the pretty young girl that’s living with me.”
He paused, then went on in a very reassuring voice, “Joy, you’re safe around me. Just remember, when it comes to sex; I’ll mind my own business, if you mind yours.”
I told him I wasn’t going to have sex until I was married, and he said, “That’s a good plan, Joy, but what we plan and what we do aren’t always the same.
“What I want you to do is promise that if you do have sex before you get married, you’ll take precautions. I’m to old to take care of you and your child, so give your old uncle a break and don’t have unprotected sex.”
I promised, and was sort of guarded about uncle Larry for a few weeks, until it was clear he really was just looking. I’d applied at the local community college, since I wouldn’t be returning to my parents home. It had been sold and the money, there wasn’t that much, put in a trust that I could only use for college. I could walk to the college, and Uncle Larry didn’t charge me for room or board, other than doing a few chores, so my expenses for tuition and books were less than the trust earned. That was good, because I’d planned to transfer to a four-year college when I got my AA degree. I was majoring in accounting and business, and also hoped for a part time job that I would help me pay for a really good college when I was ready.
By the start of my first year at Gilroy CC, I was pretty relaxed and even started to tease Uncle Larry a little, leaving the bathroom door open, a crack while I was showering, bending over in front of him when I was wearing something that made my small boobs look bigger than they were, wearing really short skirts, and bare midriff tops, were all things I did to sort of thank him for taking me in, and leaving me alone.
I’d seen too many girlfriends grow big in the belly to risk it myself, and my time at Gilroy CC came and went with my virginity intact. Of course I did date, and after I turned eighteen, I decided that I had to do something with the nice boys who showed me a real good time. So I started giving hand-jobs, and later blowjobs, to the boys that I really liked and wanted to call me again. They pressed me for more, but I never waivered, and told them that I was keeping it until my wedding night. If they pushed I explained that I just couldn’t risk it, since my uncle Larry didn’t mind me dating, or care if a pleased a date with my hands or mouth, but he would give me real hell if I turned up pregnant. I hinted he kept a loaded shotgun handy for such an eventuality.
The first summer in California had been fine. The farm was pretty, if a little smelly, and it was close enough to town so that I could walk in and shop, swim in the community pool and hang out in the park with some of the locals. Many of whom I came to know better the next year when I found they went to my new high school. The second summer was better because everyone new me, and although I wasn’t accepted by the rich girls I town, I didn’t have the money to spend on clothes it took to run with them. Generally they didn’t hang with the community college kids at all. I had lots of girlfriends and a few boyfriends. But, I had yet to meet anyone that I thought was really special. I mean I had to really like a guy, as a friend, to get beyond petting, and giving oral sex was limited to guys that I not only really liked and who had shown me a real good time on our date, but to the guys that I felt I could control when they got all hot and bothered. By control, I meant set limits.
Even with all my limits some guys still pressed, and one, Peter, who I liked a lot, pushed hard for anal sex, arguing it couldn’t get me pregnant. I said no, saying I thought the idea yucky. The real reason is I didn’t trust any guy to respect my limits when we were both naked and his hardness was only an inch from my sex.
Early in my first year of college I’d discovered Uncle Larry’s passion for internet-porn. I learned a great deal surfing through his favorites, while he was out working the fields. I knew all about anal sex, and planned someday to try it, but only with a guy I was having regular sex with, and that I trusted to not hurt me.
Uncle Larry’s interest in porn was very broad. He was into all kinds. At first I was shocked, then interested in all the variety that people seemed to enjoy. The sites he visited most were those features pictures of naked young women. That was quite the eye opener.
I’d learned what a huge variation there was among girls in their breast size and shape. But I’d gained no insight into the range of differences in the layout and shape of girls’ vulvas. Thanks to what seemed to be universal interest in girls shaved smooth and exposing their secret valley to the camera, I learned that although the organization of the points of interest was always the same, the setting could vary a lot. I started keeping myself smooth down there too, and found I enjoyed how nice my panties felt against bare skin, and I discovered there was a decided advantage in being hairless when it came to giving myself pleasure.
Later, I found the sites Uncle Larry visited featuring beast sex. The night after I first saw those sites, I had nightmares. The images of the animal seaman streaming into girls' mouths, giant horse cocks splitting girls in half, the dogs getting stuck in the girls’ vaginas really revolted me and filled me with terror. I knew my uncle was looking at those pictures, and I couldn't believe it. Why would he want to see women having sex with animals? He didn’t go to sites that showed women having sex with men, although he did seem to like the woman on woman thing; yuck!
But Uncle Larry left me alone, and I decided I’d been spying where I shouldn’t, not minding my own business like I’d promised to do, when I was snooping through his bookmarked sites.
His computer was in the little office off the kitchen he did the farms business in. After all, my only business in there was sorting his mail into four boxes he kept on the desk; bills, checks, correspondence and the magazines he subscribed to (his magazines were all about farming), and junk. I didn’t decide to stop snooping. After all, it was fascinating, although sometimes in a very sick way. I did promise myself that I would try to not be judgmental about what I found when I was snooping.
After the first time I let a date slip his fingers into my panties and explore my smooth vulva, I decided not to do it again. It was Peter, of course, and while he normally respected my limits, he became very aggressive once he was feeling the contours of the bottom of my valley. I barely was able to get him to back off and settle for a blowjob. I was worried about things going too far, and for once I wasn’t all that disappointed when he came a few moments after I took him into my mouth.
Normally, I like making a guy come slowly and watching his face as he goes from smiling, to happy, to trilled, to ecstasy as I please him. I almost get off just on watching, and after I’d swallowed a mouth full of a guys seed, I could often get a real nice tingle by letting the guy caresses and kiss my breasts.
I kept my sex life from Uncle Larry, and just smiled sweetly at the older women who he sometimes brought home for the night. My room was at the other end of the house from Uncle Larry’s, and if he had company I kept to my end of the house. Although, if I got up in the morning and it was clear he still had company, I’d make breakfast for three.
Larry gave me an allowance for cleaning the house, doing his laundry, cooking his meals (which I did except on date nights), and bringing in and organizing his mail. It wasn’t a lot, but I had enough for OK clothes and shoes, delicate unmentionables, and a little pocket cash.
At the start of my second year at Gilroy CC I noticed that the same woman was often around on weekend mornings. Her name was Marge, and I thought she looked great. While she was 41, she looked a lot younger and her chest made me green with envy. Her rack was not just large, it really wasn’t more than a C cups, but it was shaped real well. Very firm, and the swell of her bosom went up on her chest to her collarbone. Looking at her made feel especially flat.
Marge saw me looking at her chest and one day, and asked, “Joy, dear, do you want your breasts to be like mine?”
I blushed, but nodded and said, “Yes, you have a very nice shape, Marge.”
Marge giggled, “Your sweet.
“I learned of a special tea I could take when I was a girl in college. If you take it every day your breasts will get as well shaped and firm as mine in no time. The only down size is that if you stop taking it your bosom will sort of deflate, and get saggy and flat. But that doesn’t happen if you keep taking it.”
“Is it expensive?” I asked.
“It doesn’t cost anything, Joy. The tea is made from wild herbs and other plants found in the hills around here; a girlfriend, who’s a Native American, gave me the recipe. If you like, next time I make a batch, I’ll make some extra for you. You can try it, and if you like the effect, I’ll make you a batch that will last a year.”
I looked at her very well shaped chest, nodded, and thanked her. The next week she gave me a linen bag with a drawstring top and said, “That’s enough for three months, although you should know if you like the effect in less than two.
“You make a pot of tea in the evening, putting three heaping tablespoons of the herb mixture in a tea ball. Steep it in hot water for twenty minutes and then sip it all evening. Drink at least three cups before bedtime. It will help you sleep too, so you should wake up every morning refreshed and bright eyed.
That evening, after dinner, I made my first batch and poured myself a cup. While I was sipping my second cup suddenly I started feeling a little excited and my nipples extended. Marge was spending the night, when she saw me she looked at my chest and winked, knowingly. I winked back and decided the tea might really work. Little did I suspect the full extent of the concoction’s power!
Realizing that my Uncle Larry could also see me swollen nips, I took my tea to my room, saying I had homework to do. I did have homework, but it was all I could do to focus on it. I wanted to slip my hand inside my panties and please myself. I managed to hold out until my homework was done, and I’d finished my third cup of tea, before giving myself the climax I wanted badly. Soon after that I slipped into the oversized T-shirt I wore at night and went to bed, feeling very relaxed. I was asleep almost as quickly as my head hit the pillow.
When I awoke the next morning I did feel wonderful, very alive and a little horny. When I put on my bra it felt a little tighter than it had the day before, and when I checked myself out in the mirror I thought my upper chest looked fuller. That hooked me. For the next two months I drank the tea religiously. Even on date night, I’d have my pot of tea after I got home, and before going to bed, after a frenzy of masturbation. But it became harder to stay a virgin, especially when I was giving head, but I managed, mainly by promising myself all the pleasure my experienced fingers could provide when I got home.
After two months, Marge asked it I wanted more of the tea. I quickly said, “Yes!” My breasts had gone from an AA to an A cup, and my upper chest had filled out to the point where I can display a very nice cleavage.”
My weight was up to 95 pounds, but since I knew the weight had all gone to my chest I was pleased about the gain.
I was concerned too. “Marge, “ I began, “I love what the tea is doing for my figure, but the tea seems to be making me very horny. I’m starting to have a lot of trouble not giving in to the boys I go out with.”
“Your still a virgin?” Marge asked, smiling.
I blushed and nodded.
She thought for a moment, then said, “The friend, who taught me to make the stuff, said it would have that effect on virgins. I wasn’t when I started it, so I’d forgotten about that aspect of the tea.
“Do you want to stay a virgin?” She asked, very matter-of-fact.
I nodded, blushing deeply, “At least until I’m out of school. Frankly, I don’t want to get pregnant anytime in the next few years. I want to give it up to the right guy, but also I don’t want to risk a pregnancy that might keep me from seeing the world, getting my BA, and starting a career.”
“I guess that’s admirable,” Marge replied. “Lord knows; I’ve never been on any birth-control that didn’t have unpleasant side effects; from killing my interest in sex, to causing bleeding, to making me feel really sick. Condoms are best, but they don’t feel quite right inside, and it’s hard to get guys to use them, although, your uncle is an angle in that area.
“Are there any other changes you’ve noticed?” I asked quickly, since I felt the less I knew about my Uncle Larry’s sex life, the better.
I admitted to Marge that my periods seemed to be over faster and my flow was lighter than it had been before I started using the tea. I hadn’t mentioned it, but my PMS symptoms had vanished since I started drinking the tea too. I liked that.
“That’s one of the good side-effects. But be careful, another side effect of the tea is you will become more fertile. Even if your periods stop all together, which might happen, your chances of getting pregnant, even from just having sex once are increasing every month.
“You’ll have to be careful and be sure that no seamen comes anywhere near your vulva. It only takes one sperm cell to do the job, and when a male ejaculates there are millions of cells. They can move on their own and may be able to cross several inches of your skin to get to your vagina. You won’t see them move, and won’t feel them either. The first notice you might get would be morning sickness, and then it would be too late.”
I was about to comment and that being more information than I needed, but Marge quickly went on. “Joy, I admire your position. I have some pills that will quite your over active libido, but they should interfere with the magic the tea is doing. Do you want to try them?” I should have asked about a hundred more questions, but I was so happy with my improved figure that I didn’t. Besides, at that point I thought Marge was becoming my friend and I trusted her.
I said, “Sure,” and the next evening she brought me a clear small glass bottle with 30 gelatin capsules in it filled with dark gray-brown stuff.
“Take one of these every morning, but stop taking them if you start to feel unwell, and let me know.” Marge said as she put the jar in my hand.
The next morning I took my first pill, and was rewarded by feeling a little calmer all day. It was nowhere near as hard to stay focused in class, and when I did my homework, but I still felt horny by bedtime and petting my puss was fantastic. I was happy that I seemed to have no adverse reactions to the pills or the tea.
I took the pills and tea every day and was very pleased with my figure. Every month Marge brought me a new bottle of pills, and although the color sometimes changed, the effect was constant. The young men I went out, especially Peter, who I let get away with more than most, loved my bigger chest and I found other compensations. With a little coaxing and coaching, I got Peter to play with my extended nipples in a way that really got me off. In exchange I ended out dates kneeling in front of him and drinking his explosion.
One night I let Peter do his thrusting thing between my naked breasts. I felt pretty good, until he came, and all of a sudden I had a hot mess on my chest. Peter wouldn’t lick it up, and I couldn’t so I ended up using my bra to clean myself. Fortunately I did the entire laundry Uncle Larry’s farm. The next time I went out with Peter he wanted to do it between my breasts again, but I said no, unless he promised to lick up the mess afterword. He said no, but the next date he brought some very soft clothes to use and I agreed, provided that he use his mouth on my breasts after he’d come until I came too. The tea seemed to have enhanced feeling in my breasts and it really wasn’t hard for Peter to get me off that way.
Judging by Peter’s reaction to my enhanced figure I was really looking forward to summer and showing up at the pool in a new bikini that really showed off my figure. My breasts were still growing and I was hoping for a B cup size by summer.
Over the winter and spring, Marge and Uncle Larry were together more and more, but Marge spent the night mainly on weekends and a few evenings during the week. Once in a while Uncle Larry spent the night with Marge, but he needed to start working the farm early, so generally he slept at home. But I still had plenty of time to snoop on Uncle Larry’s bookmarked porn sites. Many nights he was over at Marge’s house, a small farm near ours. Even with the calming effect of the pills I found that my distaste at some of his sex sites was lessoned and that after a half-hour of looking at graphic pictures and art of naked women, I had trouble stopping touching myself. Even the pictures of women mating with dogs started arousing me. Although they still gave me dreams that were upsetting, if not nightmares.
Peter took me to the big graduation dance when I was finishing at Gilroy CC, and we had a very nice time. I splurged on an off-the-shoulders pink satin dress that revealed my cleavage in a very daring way. Peter loved it, and I enjoyed the other girls’ looks as their dates leered at me. I had Peter pull over on a secluded road as soon as we left the prom, and take the edge off his lust. We went out to dinner, and later we parked in sheltered area by the entrance Uncle Larry’s farm, but still out of sight of the house, and I let him strip me to my waste and enjoy touching and kissing my breasts until I’d climaxed twice and he could barely control himself. Then I slipped down between his legs and worshipped his shaft. I took my time and kept him on the edge for an hour before I gobbled up his seed.
Afterword he was sweet and helped me get my strapless bra, and the top of my dress right again and then cuddled and kissed with me for a half-hour before driving me the rest of the way home.
When I walked into the house I could tell I was alone, and it made sense, since Uncle Larry had said he was taking Marge out that night. Out of curiosity I went to his office and using his history went to the last site he’d been on.
It was a story about a young woman with a cursed family. When she turned 18, she went into heat and wanted to mate with a dog. She didn’t know what was happening to her until her Mother told her, she’d be barren for life unless she did it with the dog, she’d have a litter of puppies, and have to nurse and rear them, but later she could have babies.
I was repelled and fascinated. I could really relate to the girl. I mean I was just 20, and knew someday I wanted to have babies. If I’d been faced with that choice it would have been an agony. The story took her though the process of agreeing to be bred by the dog and then learning how to mate with the dog. In the story she got to really like it, but I thought that was just for the horny men, like my uncle, who read it. She got pregnant, and then had the puppies. I found the story strangely arousing, but also repellent.
Over the week I tried to forget that haunting story. But no matter how hard I tried, the images came back to me. Graduation day came in early June. Uncle Larry and Marge came and watched my get my diploma, of course it was fake, the real one was going to be mailed to us later. That morning I’d awoke and left early, still a little freaked about the story, not talking to Uncle Larry at all.
But walking to campus I remembered that Uncle Larry was generally very good to me. He indulged me when I really wanted something, helped me with schoolwork, and had added to the money my parents had left for my college trust fund.
For my part I’d been an indifferent student, and none of the top-flight four-year colleges I applied to wanted me. Of course there was UC Gilroy, which did accept me. In the middle of receiving rejection letters I disappointed Uncle Larry when I informed him that I was thinking of postponing college, but wanted the money he’d saved for it to spend on a trip to Europe. I’d been thinking that a year in Europe would help me focus on college when I returned.
I had to leave the money my parents had left in my trust, it could only be used for college until I was 25. I said it was just an idea, and waited for him to argue. He hadn’t said much, but I tried to give him time, since he hadn’t said no.
I'd worn my new bikini swimsuit for underwear under my clothes so I could go to the pool after graduation, which was in the late morning. After the ceremony, it didn’t take that long to graduate 107 seniors, I thanked Uncle Larry and Marge for coming and after telling them I’d walk home, I went to the pool. I had a good time there, and really enjoyed all the boys staring at me chest, and met up with Robin. I ended up forgetting all about what I'd read a few nights before.
After we swam for an hour we went to the park and found a private spot where we could make-out. My wet swimsuit was in my bag, and I had on only a peasant blouse and skirt. Peter slipped a finger past my skirt and into my vagina. I pulled his hand away and reminded him I didn't want to go that far, and he knew I was keeping my virginity for the right man. He was disappointed until I promised that I'd give him the chance to be that man. He smiled, but was still disappointed, so I grinned at him, pushed him to his back and gave him all the pleasure I could with my mouth. But, after he’d climaxed, he was still not happy.
We left the park around six. Peter’s house was in the other direction from Uncle Larry’s farm. After a deep kissed we parted and I walked halfway up the mountain alone, like I usually did. As I walked I knew the kiss was a goodbye. Peter wanted more than I was willing to give, and my days of keeping him happy with my mouth were over. He wanted real sex, and I didn’t, and we both knew it. I doubted that he’d ever call again. As I walked I cried a little, since I really liked him, but it also helped me to realize I didn’t love him. I decided once I was in Europe, I’d be a lot more choosy about who I gave a blowjob to.
I’ve talked like I had lots of boyfriends, but there were really only a half dozen guys I’d dated in the last two year and I’d only dated Robin for six months. Of course, I’d please almost all of them with my hand, mouth or both.
When I walked into the house I noticed a difference right away. In the living room were two very large dog bowls, two leashes, two collars, and some dog food and treats. It was graduation, and all, but what I was seeing didn’t seem to be a graduation present for me, so I wondered what the occasion was.
"Uncle Larry, what is all this dog stuff for?"
"Come in the backyard, Joy," he yelled. I looked around for Marge but she didn’t seem to be there.
I dropped my pack, which only held my wet bikini, and went to the backyard. When I got back there I saw a huge fawn coated dog in a large chain-link pen that was seven feet high, fifteen-feet wide and twenty-five-feet long. From the angle I was at I could clearly see the dog was male. The pen was closed all around with a cement bottom and the same chain-link over the top as the sides and gate was made from. Inside the fenced yard was a large doghouse (about six by eight feet) that had its floor raised about a foot above the cement.
"What's all this, Uncle Larry?"
"Well, Joy, I decided to get you a dog for your graduation. I figured you deserved one."
I smiled, trying to be polite. I mean, I was hopping for a fat check that would cover the cost of a year in Europe, rather than something that would tie me to home. Yet, he was smiling at me very warmly, the way he did when he planned to spoil me with something really nice.
"That's so nice of you, Uncle Larry. Uh, but where's the other dog?"
He looked at me with a confused look. "What other dog?"
"There’re two sets of everything in the house."
"Oh. I'm getting the other one in a couple of days. It’s more for me."
I shrugged. "So, what kind of dog is he, and what's his name?" I asked looking at the huge beast in the cage.
"Rex," he said. "He's big, but you’ll find he’s just a cuddly puppy, and he’s all yours. He really is still a puppy, just two years old. He’s a purebred mastiff, and he wont be full sized for at least another year, maybe two."
I looked at the huge dog. He was already a lot bigger than I was, and he was still growing. "Thanks, Uncle Larry," I said, hugging him. "I love you."
"I love you too, Joy."
“He will be a big help around the farm too; keeping the neighbors livestock out of my fields. And, with your permission, I’d like to put him out to stud. His bloodlines are great and there will be a strong demand for his puppies.”
I grinned at the dog, and then my Uncle Larry and said, “Sure. Why shouldn’t he get to make puppies with some lucky bitch?”
I figured he’d decided to not give me the money, but the dog was a great present. I was just going to have to get a job until I could save enough for my trip. That might take a year, but Uncle Larry giving me Rex meant that he wasn’t going to be telling me to move out. My trust would still be there, maybe a lot bigger when I got back and I could try again to get into a good school.
“Uncle Larry, is the other dog going to be female that Rex will breed?” I asked giggling.
He smiled and said, “You guessed it, Joy!”
I thought that would be nice for Rex, and I stated to look forward to having a mess of puppies to play with.