Date: Mon, 20 Dec 1999 12:45:40 EST
From: CeTe <CeTe@gmx.li>
Subject: CeTe's Zoostories IV - Mark and Kyle

CeTe's Zoostories IV
Mark and Kyle

Copyright notice: These stories are copyrighted by CeTe and may not pe
posted elsewhere without my express permission. Comments, compliments and
constructive criticisms to CeTe@gmx.li

Mark and Kyle, two British journalists for "The Independent" try making the
world a better place for zoos, but that is easier said than done.

The Zoo in the Zoo

"Qualcuno qui?"

The guardian accurately checked the room, locked the door. Mark was
alone. Relieving, he flashed back to realize his unique fortune.

Actually, he had been an animal lover par excellence. One day, he had been
visiting the zoo, seeing these marvelous wild donkeys. Hence, he had become
a zoo.

At present, the Roman zoo was closed, Mark was sitting on the cold,
concrete floor in the donkey enclosure. Climbing over the fence, he was
afraid of everything. Would they attack him, hurt him, kill him?

Nothing happened. While he was going to them nervously, the six wild
donkeys carried on grazing calmly. Mark's acute demand directeed him to the
recspectable male without considering the peril.

Unexpectedly, he let him touch his heavy balls, let him rub his wet sheath,
whereby his two-foot cock began erecting instantaneously. Watching the
peaceful donkey's penis swelling, he could not resist any more; he licked
its tasty surface tentatively. It was much more delicious than he had
supposed: bitter, cheesy, excitingly aromatic.

Hungrily, he took his whole glans in his mouth, licking and sucking
greedily. The male responsed, thrusting arousedly against his throat. Mark
kept on fellationing, till his orgasmic cock was squirting a lot of his
delicate cum he swallowed enthusiastically.

Cheers.

Seduction

Ever since, Mark had been a zoo, but when he was visiting Barcelona's zoo,
he saw him for the first time: the old albino silverback Copo de Nieve,
Snowflake. All Mark was living for then, was to seduce him.

Fortunately, he could speak both Italian and Spanish fluently and applied
for a job as zoo keeper. Once employed, he was awaiting for his chance.

Week after week passed away without any opportunity. Mark, however, kept
zealous. Just as his colleague got sick, he was instructed to take care of
the gorillas.

His heat beating fast, Mark unlocked the door of Snowflake's enclosure. The
silverback was sitting in the corner, chewing a blade of grass
indifferently. Beholding the human's bucket of food, he slowly walked
toward him, seizing a fruit.

Mark was still keeping the distance, admiring that proud
animal. Remembering his purpose, he stepped behind the eating monkey,
grasped shakingly between his hairy legs.

Snowflake started growling pleasedly. Totally overwhelmed by his unruly
desire, he ignored all potential risks and began masturbating the
silverback's soft penis, that swell speedily.

Suddenly, Snowflake grabbed his shoulders, threw him down. Mark had hardly
enough time to lower his trousers, before the great gorilla cock intruded
into his narrow anus.

Once more, he was overpowered by the ape's strength. Snowflake was mating
him impeteously: His hard penis was galling his soft anus, his vast
testicles were hitting against his, till he cummed.

Feeling his sperm streaming into him, Mark was luckier than ever before.

SS

Because of his varied profession, Mark was working in Glasgow, Scotland. On
weekends, though, he was used to drive into the Highlands to compensate for
the city's hectic.

That sunday was a sunny day. Mark was trekking to the Ben Macdhui. At the
base of the soft mountain, he took a rest, put his rucksack down, looked up
to the snowy peak. Lost in thought, he sat down on a near rock.

"SS," something hissed sharply, and Mark felt a burning pain in his calf.

He fell down on his belly. Paralysis.

>From that moment, Mark could no longer move any limb. The only thing he
could perceive was the continual hissing he was afraid of, cos it must have
been a snake. Since then, Mark had not known of any dangerous creature in
the Highlans. Was it deadly?

The viper was wriggling around his bitten leg, winding into his
shorts. Mark was crumped in angst, when it pushed against his rear, pressed
its scaly head thru his flexed anus, intruded.

He hardly realized, what was happening to him. Slowly, the supple snake was
moving up his gut, its greasy body grazing his walls, the twitching tongue
brushing them arousingly. Enjoying the inimaginable pressure inside him,
the viper arrived at his other sphincter, opened it unstoppably.

While the powerful animal was sretching his stomach, seeking for an exit,
Mark's muscles tensed up resistantly. He felt, as if he was going to die.

After and appearant eternity of torturing wrestling, the intruder moved out
thru his gullet, making him to vomit. Mark threw out the snake, before he
swooned by exhaustion.

His Last Deed

On his long wanderings across the Highlands, Mark had been watching a rare
buzzard for several weeks. In that time, his passion for the heavenly bird
of prey sprang, inducing him to that hazardous enterprise.

At the beginning of fall, he climbed the Ben More Assynt. Approximately one
kilometer above sealevel, Mark reached the hazard's eyrie, lurking for its
return.

As the bird was landing, Mark rose slowly not to provoke it. Highly
cautious, he gripped the devoring animal whose muscular wings unfolded
defensively.

Mark reacted promptly, began licking its cloaca, and the buzzard
traquilized instantly. Bowing its rear to his mouth, it was swinging
rhythmically on his arms, while he was licking of its tasteful cloaca.

Abruptly, the buzzard cried out loudly, spermed into his mouth, opened its
wings to fly away. Mark lost his balance, fell down the steep, deep
slope. Dead.

The Successor

Kyle was Mark's colleague and his friend. On a voyage thru the North Sea,
he made a trip to the German coast, where he observed a herd of seals
sunning themselves on a sandbank.

The next day, Kyle came back to the same place. Cautiously, he neared a
stately male and started masturbating him.

When his penis emerged, he turned on his side like a female, so that he was
able to mate him. The seal's cock inside him, Kyle got convinced of being
the successor of Mark.

Justice

"Mr Kyle Stevenson, you are charged with the sexual offence with an animal
according to the section three, paragraph one. Do you want to state
something, before the court pronounce their judgement?"

"I do, my Lord. I confess havin' copulated with my dog, however, why is
this a sexual offence? You claim to judge in the name of the people and the
law, but for heaven's sake, I did it for love of her, and what's wrong with
love? I guess, I live in a just society, in which I've the right to love
who I want, haven't I? Equal rights for all! My Lord, if you punish me for
an act of love, it will be injustice."

They acquitted him.

In Paradise

The Independent sent Kyle to report on the threateningly increasing tourism
to the Archipi^Âlago de Col¢n, the Gal pagos Islands.

As he arrived at the capital Progreso on the island San Crist¢bal, the
reporter was upset about how far the human civilization had already
developed, had devastated the world's last paradise.

During his contrasting research, Kyle lived outdoors. On the one hand, he
oftimes was horrified by observing many natives destroying their own
biosphere by polluting, overfishing and their profit-greedy
irrisponsibility. On the other hand, he got his first contact with such an
unspoiled nature: that great variety of plants and animals, those original
sceneries, the giant tortoise creeping over the rocky ground from one
thornbush to another. That creature seduced him; he desired for making love
with it.

After doing his job, Kyle prolonged his professional stay for his private
concern. Watching the huge turtles mating, he planned his procedure
detailedly: It was out of question that Kyle would be the passive
participant, cos a giant tortoise normally weighs up to one thousand two
hundred pounds and thus, he had to be the active one.

In the middle of a karstic crater on Isabela, the biggest island of the
archipelago, Kyle approached the longed-for turtle. The female was eating,
while he lay down behind her, stuck his stiff penis into her slippy
cloaca. Even when Kyle commenced shoving in built-up arousal, she continued
chewing unshakeably. Deep inside her, however, he was feeling her true
excitement.

"Hard shell, soft core," Kyle thought, pressing his seeds into the peaceful
colossus.

How could he protect that lovable species from being exterminated?
Hopefully, his exposing article would move his readership.

Reversed Justice

One week later, he was back in the United Kingdom. That day, Kyle had to
appear in court for the public prosecutors's appeal from his acquittal.

"...and therefore, my Lord, I request you to reverse your judgement because
it is against the British law."

"We have noted your arguments, Mister. Before the court will adjourn, we
want to hear the advocate's adress to the jury."

"Thank you, my Lord. As I announced, my client will state it."

"My Lord, all I've to say's said. I'm innocent, cos I did nothing wrong. No
matter how you look at it, justice's mine."

Afterwards:

"In the name of the people, the court pass their judgement: Mr Kyle
Stevenson's acquittal will be reversed. He is guilty of the sexual offence
with an animal and will be given a prison sentence for life."

Prozoophilia

Kyle was thankful to Chris. As a result of his injust treatment during his
trial, the journalist founded Prozoophilia (PZ), an organization of prozoos
and zoos against antizoos. He actually intended to edit an article about
PZ, but they fired him.

"...We cannot employ disreputable persons who damage our newpaper's
standing. Many thanks for many years of competent
collaboration. Faithfully, the editor," he read in his dismissal.

Kyle saw that as a farther proof of global injustice against zoophilia. In
his opinion, people were too ignorant to comprehend the zoo's wish for
freedom. Under all circumstances, he insisted on enlightening mankind by
means of his worldwide organization.

For his sublime mission's realization, Kyle made contacts to a number of
other zoos whose fate was so different from his: Some of them related they
had the luck to live in legality while others acknowledged being persecuted
by their conviction. Even though he needed a lot of time for his project,
Kyle was clear, "Together, we're strong."

Cannibals

Kyle's first expedition for National Geographic went to Western New
Guinea. There, amid the impenetrable jungle, far out from civilization,
existed a number of Indian tribes, the last cannibals in the world.

Thanks to the former foreign correspondent's references, he led the team of
him, two cameramen and four porters. On the third day in the "green hell"
as Kyle called the rain forest bitterly, the seven weakened,
mosquito-bitten men arrived at an abandoned treehouse, towering two chains
over their sweating heads. The leader looked up, cursed, "That's just a
trace of the primitives. Where the heck are they?"

He could not walk any more. His colleague attempted to climb up the ladder
to the top, but its small rungs broke in two by his weight. They were too
heavy.

So the group pitched its tents right under the Indian-left housing. Kyle
had hardly lain down on his airbed, he fell asleep.

In the early moring, Kyle woke up. Recoveredly, he stepped to the
neigboring tent, opened the zipper, empty. The next one, empty. All seven
tents were abandoned. Where had they gone?

Kyle felt lonely and feared loneliness. He heard a rustling in the bush
behind him. Turning round, Kyle looked into a cannibal's dark face.

"Be not afraid, I friend," the man said.

An English-speaking human at the end of the world; Kyle was too astonished
to reply a word. The Indian dipped his drawn bow, guided him to his tribe's
camp.

Gradually, Kyle lost not only his mistrust, but also his prejudice against
the natives who led a simple and hard life in the wilderness. He got to
know their culture that included the belief in good and evil
spirits. Whenever a tribesman died, one of his hostiles was responsible for
his death. His relatives had to kill the enemy, to eat him to annihilate
the evil spirit. Albeit even Kyle, a white man, was an evil spirit in their
religion, Perma protected him.

Perma was a thirty-year- old cannibal, the oldest one of his tribe. Long
time ago, he had lived in the city of Djajapura, though, Perma had returned
to his roots, as the spirits called him back, he explained.

Then there was another thing exciding Kyle evermore: Each Indian, both
young and old, was naked. Merely the men wore a belt they bound their
foreskin to so that their penis stood up, their ballsack lay free.

Several days before Kyle's setout, he encountered a boy he estimated at
about sixteen years. That was his dream boy. Kyle grabbed his nuts
dreamily. The boy startled: The white spirit was holding his balls. Fondly,
the stranger sucked his juvenile cock till he cummed for the first
time. Afterwards, it was his religious duty to donate the same farewell to
the mysterious visitor.

A New Beginning

He could not go home after the experienced injustice as well as the
forcible pulling to sleep of his dog. Kyle emigrated to Spain.

In that country which is far more liberal towards zoos, he began a new
life. Initially, he applied to all Spanish newspapers. El Pa¡s, the
leading one of them, employed him.

A Prozoophilia member asked him how to heave sex with a fox, but although
Kyle was unable to help him, he promised to investigate. The vixen he chose
was a gorgeous sorrel with a shaggy tail. Penetrating her tenderly, Kyle
got delighted enough to advise his like-minded friend.

Unconventional Ways

Hilariously, Kyle was ramming his hard rod into Montse's soft pussy, his
aged Collie bitch. All of a sudden, he held still while his highly
stimulated genital set to ejaculate.

"Sweety," he groaned, "I love you so much that I'd get married to you,
if... why not?"

As his friend Jos^Â had died three months ago, he had inherited his
thirteen-year-old dog, his old lady. Montse and Kyle got good friends: she
accepted him as her leader, and he was sheerly crazy for her.

On the occasion of their wedding, they proceeded to Almer¡a's registry
office where the registrar derided them, called him a maniac.

So Kyle decided, "Then we'll go unconventional ways," and he married to her
on his own.

Why?

Kyle and Montse was a merry couple. As every evening, when he came home
from work, they rollicked around boisterously. Casually, he fell onto her
and crushed her inadvertantly, but she got so scared that she instantly bit
him into his arm. Kyle who had never been attacked by any animal did not
know how to react; he grabbed her throat to push her away. Suddenly, she
opened her jaws, let go of his arm, fell down.

"Heart attack," the vet diagnosed.

Montse was dead, he broke down. At once, his life seemed senseless, he did
not want to live any longer. In his depression, he turned to his only true
friend.

Having arrived in South Africa, he illustrated Chris his hopelessness.

The photographer commiserated, "I see you're mournin' for your deceased
love, though, you must surmount your sorrow, or you'll keep on grievin' for
all your life. Furthermore..."

"Why?," Kyle cried.

"You know the Lord's ways're unfathomable."

"I don't believe in God," the journalist objected. "And I don't wanna bear
my damned life any more either."

Chris clarified, "Even though you ain't religious, your life's God's gift
which you're not allowed to throw away. Last year, the same disaster
afflicted me: as Cesar'd been murdered, I got weary of life as
well. Afterwards, however, I recognized life goes on."

"In contrast to you, it was me who's killed Montse."

"I can't stand your pessimism," the felidophile rebuked. "Kyle, you've not
killed her, but it was fate. Eventually, I don't think at all that the
Creator's damned you. Realize you founded Prozoophilia to make the world a
better place; countless animals out there need your help!"

He was alright.

The Angel in the White Hell

Kyle had just returned from his successful expedition to Venezuela, as his
employer, the Spanish newspaper El Pa¡s, instructed him to report on the
Sibirian nomads. Hence, he flew to Norilsk, a monotonous city in the middle
of the desert tundra.

Getting of the plane, the British journalist who had come directly from the
equator stiffened by the arctic temperatures. Regardless to the thick snow
dashing against his face, he recognized Sergey Kawalyew, a Russian
folklorist and his translator.

Both drove by snowmobile fifty miles thru the furious snowstorm to the
samll nomad family Sondaki.

By the time, Kyle got used to the hard climate and the same
unpretentiousness he had already experienced during his adventurous stay at
the cannibals before half a year.

Most of all, though, he admired the big herd of awesome reindeers the
Sondakis kept near their winter camp. His longing desire for those
respectable animals was enhancing with every day.

Another sleepless night, Kyle could no longer bear his unappeasable demand
and set out to satisfy it. In pitch-black darkness, he met a female
reindeer and began petting and arousing her till she lay down, letting him
insert his hard-on into her cunt. Their sensual mating solely lasted a
minute, but Kyle enjoyed each second of that relieving fusion.

On his way back, he met his astounded collaborator.

"Mr Stevenson," Sergey whispered, "I've seen you and the reindeer."

"Please, don't tell anyone," the revealed zoo begged.

"Of course not. I mean you looked like an angel."

Kyle laughed, "The angel in the white hell."

Copyright CeTe