"No...no, this can't be happening!" Paul said under his breath.
"And yet it is," the dancer said with a smile. Paul stood up, backing
away from the stage, even as the dancer crawled off the runway toward
him, still prowling on all fours. An English Sheepdog pressed its nose
to the crotch of her swimsuit, sniffing at her barely-covered vulva,
causing her to spin quickly around, snapping her jaws at it and
snarling. The sheepdog immediately whimpered, backing away with its
head low and tail between its legs.
"Come on, big boy...you know you want it," she said again, a husky
tone in her voice.
Paul continued to back away, nearly tripping over the pack of dogs
that seemed to fill the club. Was he the only man left, he wondered?
Thankfully, the dogs weren't agressive toward him, though they
certainly impeded his progress as he stumbled into the crowd of them
over and over. He nearly fell to the ground a couple of times when he
bumped against some of the larger dogs, but maintained his footing
nonetheless. He was thankful that they seemed to be as much of an
obstacle to the dancer as they were to him, constantly sniffing at
her, and on occasion attempting to mount her, before being warned off.
Paul turned away, not wanting to see more; it seemed that every time
he made eye contact with the patiently pursuing dancer, his cock
throbbed and he'd pause, tempted to touch it again. Every time their
eyes locked, he'd pause just a moment longer, and the temptation would
grow. He'd begun to sweat, and not just because of the temperature in
the room. It was becoming a race against time, he realized. If he
didn't get out soon, the sounds, the smells, and the temptation would
be too much.
He spotted the double doors that he'd come in through. His escape was
only fifty feet away or so. With a deliberate pace, he continued to
head toward them, but now the dancer began to bark and whine, and he
slowed, unable to completely shake off the compelling calls she was
making to him. The other dogs began to bark as well, almost sounding
like they were saying, "Stay here...join us!" His mind began to cloud,
and Paul stopped in his tracks about twenty feet from the doors,
shaking his head as he tried to clear the fog from his brain.