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Possum Prison Pussy

Part 6: Hog Wild

Sneak Peek

Sylva felt like he was finally getting a hang of how to actually handle himself in the yard. Most people played basketball or weights, anything the warden could get cheap or was subsidized by the state. The workout equipment was the stock from an old gym that upgraded their equipment to the next gen, so they didn't need the dated steel anymore. The old fitness logos were almost faded off from years of hard work and sweat, rust starting to settle in around the grips where sweat got caught and ate away at the protective paint. Nothing said jailbird like calloused palms infected with tetanus.

The possum was given some free time in the yard, even though it wasn't technically Magnus' turf, Lawrence allowed him to be out there. The old fart had some serious sway even though Magnus was quickly snatching up territory like a beast, but Sylva didn't quite understand how the ancient pangolin managed to hold up to Magnus.

“So, how does Lawrence keep control of the yard?" Sylva leaned into Checkers, keeping his voice low.

“You really don't know?" Checkers seemed genuinely surprised. “You're his Bunkie, I'm sure Magnus would have asked you to make a move on him by now."

“Ew! No! Law is a total friend and an old guy, I don't want to have sex with him."

“Lucky for us he's asexual," Checkers answered, his milky eyes as expressionless as always. “No, I don't mean a sexual pass at him, I mean get a look at his books."

“So, he's a bookie, what does that have to do with anything?"

“I really wish we had a Monopoly board. It would make this far more easy to explain."

“I've played Monopoly before," Sylva rolled his eyes, the expression wasted on the blind leopard.

“Then you know who the most powerful person is in the game then," Checkers had a grin slowly playing at his lips.

“The racecar?" Sylva decided to play into Checkers' game.

“The banker," Checkers let the word roll out of his lips with reverence. “Magnus might have the Boardwalk, but even the owner of the hotels keeps their money in the bank."

“So, Lawrence is, like, the player that shells out the money?" Sylva's cocked a brow.

“Not only shells it out, but holds it, exchanges it, and, most importantly, regulates it. Just a slight shuffle of funds and Magnus wouldn't be able to pay his lackeys, or get the money from your exploits. Magnus may be the prison king, but Lawrence is the treasurer. And when you have control of the king's funds, you control the entire playing board."

“Never heard you so impressed before," Sylva leaned back, soaking up the sun, the particularly warm day a blessing this late in the year. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you'd be gunning for his spot."

“Whoever controls the money, controls Magnus," Checkers stretched, cracking his shoulders and bearing his claws. “Whoever controls Magnus controls this entire prison. You are currently the only factor that's tipping the power towards Magnus. Your pussy is a liquid asset he can squeeze for money whenever he wants, and something that Lawrence can't hide away in his books."

“So Magnus and Lawrence are the two most powerful people in the entire prison?"

“They are both the second most powerful people in the prison," Checkers corrected. “There is only one person in Monopoly who has more power than the person who owns all the properties and the banker."

“What's left?" Sylva's head was starting to hurt.

“The owner of the game," Checkers nodded as though he imparted a great piece of wisdom. “This is a for-profit prison, so the warden owns it all. Magnus and Lawrence can have their little spats and turf wars, but as soon as it becomes inconvenient for the warden, he can flip the board and start everything over from scratch. The ecosystem here is very fragile and can easily be destroyed. That's why you're such an important player. You're basically a money machine that'll flow the funds to Magnus. Law might be a heavy hitter, but he's not going to let the natural order here crumble out of spite for Boss. If enough of the funds sway over to Magnus, it's game over for Lawrence. Unless he thinks of something fast, it's inevitable."

“Sounds pretty complicated to me. I'll let you and the other big brains figure out what to do." Sylva shook his head in the rays of the sun. If he imagined hard enough, it almost felt like he was out of the prison. That he was free.

“Have you given any more thought to what I told you earlier? Your usefulness beyond being a hole?"

“Yes and no," Sylva dismissed the thought. “I just want to enjoy the sun for now and not think about that clock."

“Well, you can keep it in mind when you meet up with your next client today." Checkers lifted his hand and Whispers came out from the shaded corner. “It's one of Lawrence's men. You met him before. I want to say back on your first or second day?"

“That was forever ago," Sylva refused to let the reality of what Checkers was putting out ruin his sun bathing.

“It was last month," Checkers was surprised. “I thought you were better than that Sylva."

“Just let me enjoy my sun," Sylva sighed. “I got railed by Magnus last night, and I love how the guy makes my pussy pop, but it's nice to just take up some rays and not worry about my next job."

“Well, your next job is coming up fast." Checkers took Whispers' hand and he guided the leopard off the picnic table they were lounging on. “We have other business to take care of, so don't get too cocky while we're gone. One of Lawrence's' men is going to protect you and be your next client. If he tries to do anything stupid, he knows what's coming, so just warn him and he should stay in line."

“Wait, you guys are leaving?"

“We can't be around you all the time Sylva," Checkers sighed. “We have our own jobs to take care of, and now that you've proven yourself a reliable tool to Magnus, he's tearing the training wheels off. So far you've only been used by our own men, but now he's branching off into other turfs to get more influence on his side. So, play nice."

“I'm not a child," Sylva spat at the leopard.

“Then quit acting like one," Checkers shot back in a cocky tone, his tail flicking behind him as Whispers guided him away.

“Hey, you're Sylva, right?"

The possum opened his eyes and looked at the source of that gruff voice. There stood a boar, his body stacked with muscle and a thick gut. He was missing a tusk and his other was coated on gold. Sylva knew him, but he couldn't quite place where.

“Yeah, what's it to ya?" The possum shot back.

“Don't be like that, I'm your protection and your client," the boar gave a sly grin. “The name is Randy, but everyone just calls me Toothless."

Sylva eyed him up and down. Despite being on top of the table, the boar was only a head shorter than him. He was a fairly large guy.

“So you're my next customer? Kind of odd with you being my protection at the same time. Isn't that some sort of conflict of interests or whatever?"

“Not really," Toothless put his hands on his hips, his gut pushing out and peeking out from under the hem of his scrubs. “You think I'm going to chance the wrath of both Magnus and Lawrence by fucking you up? Nah. I ain't as dumb as Diesel."

“That's still to be seen," Sylva hopped off the table and brushed his scrubs into place.

“Watch it kid," Toothless grumbled through a crooked grin. “Your ass is on the line too. You do a bad job with me, just think how your reputation would tank. You got clients clamoring to get to your sweet cookie, but just imagine if this boar said it wasn't worth it? That Magnus' bitch was all talk? How long do you think Magnus will keep you around if you can't pull tail like you used to?"

“You son of a—tsk" Sylva looked down, gritting his teeth. “What do you want?"

“Just what I paid for baby," Toothless stepped forward and cupped Sylvas face. “Look at me, when I talk to you." His voice was stern. “Where I come from, we show some damned respect to our elders."

Where I come from…that sounded familiar to the possum. Instantly his mind clicked. Toothless was that boar that Magnus had beaten and thrown in solitary the first week he was here. The boar touched him without the elephant prison lord's permission.

“Well, where I come from, respect is earned, not given," Sylva slapped his hand away from his face.

“Cheeky little brat," Toothless snarled, but his grimace melted into a cocky grin. “But I like making brats squeal. Besides, I paid for you, so your respect is for sale."

“My pussy is for sale, not my respect," Sylva huffed and crossed his arms. Toothless simply smirked and stepped forward, his thick gut pressing into Sylva and pinning him against the side of the table. The boar took his hand and ran up Sylva's inner thigh before cupping his pussy, those fingers brushing his little mound.

“What the fuck is the difference?" Toothless rumbled the remark. “You're a slut for hire, a whore sold at a premium for the fact you got two holes to fuck instead of one, and I'm going to get my money's worth."

Sylva's skin crawled, that gut hot against his chest as he looked up. Their eyes were locked and the boar's dark eyes dared him to talk back. Sylva lost the staring contest and looked away.

“Yeah, whatever," Sylva huffed.

“Folding so soon? I knew you were a pussy boy, but I didn't know that meant you didn't have any balls."

Sylva rolled his eyes internally. If he had a nickel for every time someone pulled the no balls joke on him. Though, with the way the conversation was going, no one was going to win this, and he didn't want to violate the golden rule. You don't fuck over your protection.

“Isn't that what you're paying for?" Sylva smirked, biting his lower lip and pulling himself up onto the table, his legs gripping Toothless and pulling him forward, the table skidding loudly across the cement. The metal pipework that made up the table rang out like hollow church bells as Sylva ran his leg up over Toothless' thigh, his feet gently rubbing at his sides. “You don't want just any hole with some dirty mud flaps. You want some premium, sexy silk."

Toothless' eyes were wide as he looked around, half the yard looking at the boar with envious eyes or with their jaws hanging open.

“I…um…"

“Yeah?" Sylva sighed, his legs going up to grip around Toothless' hips and pulling him forward, his thick gut rolling over Sylva's warm mound and abdomen. “When was the last time you had pussy? When was the last time you felt the warm, velvety embrace of a woman's touch?"

“Ch-Cheeks! Stop," Toothless tried to pull away, but he didn't want to do anything to hurt Sylva either. He knew what was at stake if he bruised Magnus' property. Everyone knew what happened to Diesel and that was one of Magnus' top guys! What would he do to his competition?

“Stop? Isn't this what you paid for?" Sylva laid back on the table with a gentle cooing sigh. “I've never fucked with a hog before. You looking to sniff out my truffle big guy?"

Toothless was speechless, his face burning red. Sylva gave a little murr, his eyes half sheathed as he slowly sat up, his hands roaming over that big muscle gut, the healthy fat cool to the touch. Sylva pressed his nose against the boar's wet one and gently nuzzled it.

“You itching to get to that pussy big guy?" Sylva murred. Just as Toothless was about to say something his voice caught in his throat as his balls were brushed by Sylva's tail, that prehensile appendage grinding against his sensitive bulge. “So full, how long has it been since you last busted?"

Toothless snorted, steam practically shooting out of his nostrils as he picked up Sylva and hauled him to the doors. There was an equipment room that was typically locked, but was a safe room for Lawrence's men. The possum giggled the entire way, thinking of his next move. Toothless tossed him into the equipment room and went to close the doors behind him.

It was much like the equipment room at a school. Bins of balls and miscellaneous gear were strewn haphazardly about. Sylva quickly found a sturdy bin to lean against and kicked off his shoes and hooked his thumbs into his scrubs and let them hit the floor.

Just as Toothless finished locking the doors behind him, Sylva kicked his pants over to him, the garments smacking his back and hitting the floor. The boar spun around to see what was at his feet, his eyes going wider as he slowly followed the trajectory back to its owner. There Sylva stood, his shirt bunched up under his chin as he panted softly, his fingers already going down to his petals. The possum spread his legs, his feet splaying across the floor as he leaned back onto the bin of basketballs. His pink fingers gently brushed over his folds, splaying them and showing the glistening honey just inside, his little clit pushing his hood up.

“Does it look like what you remember?" Sylva huffed out, pretending to be all hot and bothered.

“Fuck it's beautiful," Toothless moaned. The boar fell to his knees and shuffled over, his thick fingers spreading Sylva's legs wide. The blunt nose of the boar pressed against those folds, snorting as he took in the smell of that ripe pussy. He could smell other men there, but that wasn't what he cared about.

Sylva giggled at the cool touch of that nose, flinching away a little before easing himself back down.

“Sorry," Sylva huffed. “Your nose is just a little cooooooooooo…." Sylva's eyes rolled back as that boar's lips spread and started lapping at those folds. He leaned his head off to the side so his golden tusk didn't press into Sylva as the hog's thick tongue lulled forward. Lips smacked and drool dripped. This wasn't anything like how Whispers ate him out, this was entirely different. There was a hunger behind it, a ravenous need as those lips smacked and slurped at his folds. There wasn't any technique or finesse, but rabid hunger and thirst.

It was Sylva's turn to go wide eyed, his hands gripping onto that bin for support as his legs shook. That tongue lashed over his folds, slurping into each ridge like a machine, sliding and slipping between each of his sensitive ridges before lashing over to the next, digging in and finding every piece of honey before snorting and shifting to the next spot. Toothless was hoovering that pussy up like a pig at a trough, gobbling up that pussy like some fine slop. Wet strands flew from that hungry maw, those lips glazed in a mix of drool and pussy juices as that boar ate his favorite meal. Then his tongue lulled deep into that pussy causing Sylva to arch his back and cry out, his voice catching on a few involuntary spasms as that tongue demanded more space. The tip of that hungry diver flicking like mad, lashing in all directions as though it couldn't wait to find more of the possum's sweetness.

Sylva ran his fingers through the boar's greasy hair, his fingers gripping hard. Toothless was happy as a hog rolling in shit and he sounded like one too. His squeals and snorts accompanied the deep and wet smacking and squelching of that truffle. In order to get better access, Toothless slung one of Sylva's legs over his shoulder, the boar's nose pressed firmly against that clit, huffing and warming it as it nuzzled forward wile that tongue writhed in the sweetness of Sylva's folds.

“Oh fuck! Toothless! Holy shit!" Sylva gasped as the boar pulled from that love tunnel.

“Call my Randy," he demanded before diving back in. It was like a diver coming up for air to bark an order and dive back down.

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