FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Another commission! This one by the ultra sweet jhonkolons on Furaffinity. Please go send him some thanks! He's the whole reason you're able to read this story!

Now before we get onto the story I want to clarify that, while sharing the same basic title "Fox McCloud (Starfox) Vs Wolf O'Donnell" as well as it's original nickname title, "Star-crossed Warriors", this story is actually NOT a sequel, or "Part 3" to my prior two Fox vs Wolf stories, viewable here https://www.furaffinity.net/view/34863055/ and here https://www.furaffinity.net/view/35038478/ . It is an original story taking place in the same fantasy arena I've created (Beast Wars Wrestling) and only shares the name "Star-crossed Warriors" because I'm hella proud of that and don't want to have to make a new creative title every time someone new commissions me for Fox vs Wolf stories.

Now without further ado, enjoy a (hopefully well written despite my rust) pro wrestling story featuring everyone's favorite masc twink fox, Fox McCloud, and everyone's favorite "Ex-Military Uncle" figure, Wolf O'Donnell! ;3

Oh! And fair warning, the commissioner requested a heavy focus on Wolf's ass, so if you don't like big, masc lupine bubble butts, there's the door! ^> You've been warned! Enjoy!

---

Navy.

It was a word that meant a lot to the silver furred canine standing in the center of the Beast Wars Wrestling ring.

Not only had he enjoyed his fair share of combat in that branch of the military before he'd become a space pilot and eventually pro wrestler, but it was also the color of the spandex trunks hugging tightly around the man's large, muscular glutes as he stood in the center of the ring. The champion adjusted the big, golden title belt around his waist, tapping his claws impatiently against the golden skull and crossbones design he'd had custom-plated on as he barked to the crowd about his complete and utter disappointment in the current roster which, according to the old veteran, was full of nothing but cowards and washed up jobbers.

There weren't many people who would, or could, stand up to him. Wolf O'Donnell was a big, well-built fridge of a man. With wide shoulders, sculpted pecs and meaty biceps that would make any man jealous, and an even tighter lower body, most wrestlers would sooner forfeit their contracts than step foot in the ring with "The Ender of Careers." Other veteran wrestlers liked to joke that the old space outlaw had personally harvested the fabric for his signature black eyepatch, matching boots, wrist bands and open leather vest from the hides of the poor rookies he'd squashed early on in his career. BWW had a high turnover rate, constantly needing to hire "new meat" ever since their hiring of O'Donnell. Many audience members genuinely bought into the idea that the big bully of a canine had killed the jobbers off, a fair assumption considering no-one had ever seen the rookies on live TV again. However Wolf knew the true aftermath of the lesser males, as well as their bodies, inside and out. He'd almost always leave them in their hotel room, face down ass up, after making them swear into a life of secrecy, never again to step foot inside his televised territory.

In fact, there was only one rookie that Wolf had failed to squash, fuck and ruin. He wasn't a rookie from the ring, but rather back in Wolf's pilot days. The fox was a young man whom Wolf thought had forever escaped his clawed grasp, until the big silver furred canine's uncovered eye widened, ears perking, as he heard a sudden, familiar, cocky and confident voice radiating out from the arena loudspeaker.

"Howdy, Wolf."

Fox McCloud was a platinum-blond haired pretty-boy if the world had ever seen one. Much leaner in muscle than wolf, and shorter to boot, he could almost be mistaken for the bigger canid's son if it weren't for the sharp contrast in their orange and silver fur colors. The navy blue "Ender of Careers" Wolf O'Donnell fan shirt Fox was currently wearing certainly didn't help. Nor did the boy's perky, muscular backside, which was similar in musclestature to Wolf's, and was perhaps even a bit bigger. The two orange and cream furred ass globes were stuffed into the back of a poor, overstretched pair of green trunks with red Starfox logos on either side. The vulpine also wore white boots, knee pads and wristbands. All of this was plainly visible, centered even, on the titantron after a cameraman had gone out of his way to sneak around to Fox's backside for a "better angle" of the promo.

"FOX???" The big, proud, grizzled old canid in the center of the ring blurted out in complete and utter shock, the camera's catching his wide-eyed expression slack-jacked, before the big man was seen steadying himself, along with his voice. The old mammal cleared his throat, and started again.

"Ah, I mean, eh, Fox McCloud, right? Long time, uh, no see! What brings a lowly, naive young space pup like you down to a MAN'S arena?" Wolf offered a casual smirk as he leaned against the ropes like a bar counter. Despite the older man's casual demeanor, his thick, silver furred tail could be seen wagging wildly in excitement from behind as another cameraman snuck around to the back of the prized fighter, the titantron now showing only alternating views of each wrestlers broad muscular back and tight, bubbly ass, to no one's complaint. Oblivious to the ogling, or perhaps relishing in the admiration, Wolf continued his promo.

The old canine had his eyes on the prize: the handsome face and tight, fit, and utterly juicy body of his young rival. Fox was not only in his territory, but was presenting himself like a well prepared lobster on a silver platter. Though, there was only one thing that caused Wolf's white furred eyebrows to raise in confusion, and a little irritation. "And why the hell are you wearing my merch? You a fan, little boy?" Wolf offered another cocky smirk, the mere thought of Fox already being loyal to him causing a visible enlargement in the front of those navy trunks.

"Well, Wolf, that's a great guess! You're a good looking guy after all, albeit a little chunky in the ass department." Fox smirked, his words igniting the roaring laughter, cheers and whistles of the BWW crowd as Wolf's grimace was caught up close on the secondary camera. "But as much fun as kissing your ass sounds, I think I'd rather kick it around and help ya shed a few pounds off it instead."

The camera had returned to it's primary view of O'Donnell's backside, this time visibly zoomed in to have his navy blue butt-cheeks poised in the center of the screen, the aforementioned fat causing the corners of his ass to hang out from his trunks.

"You think you're funny you little shrimp-dicked vulpine bastard? Coming out here and cracking wise in MY territory? My GLUTEAL MUSCLES are ROCK. HARD. As anyone whose been a victim of The Wolf Wiper will tell you." Wolf exhaled so sharply onto the microphone audience members could swear they saw steam come out of his nose. "All you're doing is making me angrier, and ensuring your beat-down will be all the more brutal." Wolf flexed his claws casually for the audience, the silver claws reflecting the arena light elegantly. "And you still didn't answer my question, boy. Why the shirt?" His voice ended in a sinister growl, the big man potentially threatening to charge up the ramp and tear Fox apart if the rookie didn't give a serious answer.

"Well it's simple Wolf," Fox dropped his smirk for a short moment to hold a serious, determined expression, bringing the mic up close to his lips as he spoke his next words lowly. "I'm here to end YOUR career!"

The words were met with copious amounts of "oohs" and murmurs from the hushed crowd, all their eyes and ears alert in the suddenly serious moment.

The silence was broken a full fifteen seconds later by one sound. It was a sound some expected, but many more were shocked to hear, considering the fit body and serious demeanor McCloud had on stage.The sound that resonated through the speakers, breaking the silence with increasingly loud volume was nothing other than the soft, deep chuckling of Wolf O'Donnell himself. Soon some of the audience members had to plug their ears as O'Donnell's laughing became thunderous when amplified through the speakers.

It was only after a solid two minutes of cackling that the sound finally died down and the big grey canine let out a pleased whistle as he wiped tears from his eyes. "End my CAREER? THAT'S the EFFECT you were going for when you put on that shirt? BOY, you look more suited to be one of my groupies! I'm still half-expecting you to sulk up here and ask for my autograph!" Now it was Wolf's turn to flash a cocky, confident, pearly white grin.

"Your autograph? As if!" Fox snorted out with a roll of his eyes. However Wolf's words had given the vulpine an idea. Rubbing his chin and pondering for a long moment, Fox finally rose the mic back to his lips, now with the faintest hint of a devilish smirk on his cream furred muzzle.

"As if you'd LET me... if we're being honest." Fox admitted, causing a collective "huh?" to come from the audience. They were quite used to the wrestlers rightfully growling at each other before the fight. Any semblance of mutual respect seemed to be a myth in this business, at least with a heel as ruthless and unforgiving as Wolf involved. "I mean, obviously I'd like to. Who wouldn't want to be tag team partners with the longest reigning champ of the past 2 years?" Fox added with a bit of a frown. "But you'd never let me. Even if you WERE willing to enter the tag team division. I'm simply too small, and too by-the-books for a man like you, right? So I gotta come out here and challenge you. It's the only way I can have any of your fame and prestige in this business rub off on me." Fox finished with a sigh for good measure, the corners of his muzzle curling ever so slightly into a devilish smirk, before he re-plastered that serious, determined expression back on his face.

Wolf laughed again, though this time it ended in an almost sympathetic tone. "Wow. You really are just a fan wanting to get close to your big uncle O'Donnell, huh?" By now Wolf's eyes were off of Fox, and now focused on his own flexing bicep, unable to help but admire himself as his ego was stroked for him. The audience couldn't help but mutter in confusion over the uncle comment, something Wolf had never referred to himself as, even if the majority of the audience openly swooned over him, and constantly referred to him as "Daddy."

Wolf elaborated, turning his attention towards the crowd as he silently gestured McCloud up towards the ring with a claw. "You see, ladies, the pup here and I, we've got a little history." Wolf admitted, looking down at the ring floor as he paced around, tail thrashing around wildly behind him. "More specifically, me and the boy's dad we..." Wolf paused and cleared his throat. "We had... relations. And, well, to be even more specific... Foxy-boy's daddy... Well, he was my bitch." Wolf finally looked back at the audience giving his signature, stern faced glare as he told the bold faced lie. Even as he watched the men in the audience hooting and hollering over the apparent humbling Fox's father had been put through, night after night.

Wolf would never admit that he loved the man. He was perfectly content with burying all real feelings he had about James as deep down as possible. Even if he were the touchy-feely type, he had a reputation to uphold. What kind of alpha-male champion would he be if the world knew he had fell for a lowly, small, pathetic, studly, handsome-as-hell vulpine? More than anything, though, Wolf recognized two simple facts that motivated him far more than anything else: one: The thought of topping James McCloud still made him rock hard to this day, and two: Fox was the spitting image of his father.

Finally, Fox had made his way onto the apron and, with a little reluctance, his green eyes focused on Wolf's wide, grey furred predator body, Fox slowly bent at the waist and entered the bigger man's domain. Fox wanted to speak up on how his father had told him Wolf was a good friend, and how, in their pictures together, both men always looked very happy. However Fox understood what Wolf was doing: twisting the narrative to ensure he always looked big and bad, with no signs of possible submissiveness. Fox sighed, and decided to play along, slowly walking towards O'Donnell as he lifted his own mic to his mouth. "Y-Yeah... that's right. My daddy always did come home sore after his pilot shifts. He always told me he'd get injured in his warm-ups." Fox blatantly lied, hoping that by playing along with Wolf's act, he could get on the big canine's good side.

"Ah, so you admit it then? You admit that your old uncle O'Donnell made your papi James sore on more than one occasion?" Wolf's eyebrow was raised in a bit of initial confusion. He'd expected Fox to deny it, but maybe the fox pup truly was looking to get onto his superior's good side. Seeing Fox submit even further had Wolf sporting a full chub in the front of his trunks, which he lewdly reached down to grope and adjust as he licked his lips into the microphone. "I guess you could say that he was more like your mommy, then. And I was more like your DADDY." Wolf finished, standing toe to toe with the handsome young vulpine who looked up at him, the audience roaring in ecstatic enthusiasm over the heated, drama and lust filled storyline unfolding before their very eyes.

"Yes." Fox responded simply, causing the roars of the audience to grow even louder and unhinged. the two in-ring performers had to stop talking and merely soak up the moment, and each other, for the next thirty seconds before they were able to continue speaking.

"Well then..." Wolf continued, looking down with his uncovered eye closed, with the world's smuggest smirk plastered on his face. "What kind of daddy would I be..." He opened his eye and slowly walked over to hug Fox sideways around his shoulders, pulling their matching T-shirt covered bodies next to each other, like chummy old friends. "if I didn't let my SON have a chance at being my tag-team partner?" And with that, Wolf O'Donnell leaned down and planted a kiss right atop Fox's head.

By now the audience was nearly out of control, with most either being sucked in by the juicy drama or the hot on-screen affection, people were tuning in from all over the country just to see this promo.

Stroking Fox's shoulder fur, Wolf continued into the microphone, holding Fox close as he looked out to the audience. "But the key word, my boy, is CHANCE. Daddy O'Donnell is gonna put you through a test match. You're gonna be a good pup and show the audience and, more importantly ME, all your worth." Wolf stopped leaning against Fox and gripped the boy's chin in his clawed hand, bringing that handsome muzzle towards Wolf's own as the bigger canine hissed into the microphone with that classic heelish menace. "Isn't that right, BOY?"

Now it was Fox's turn to start sporting a chub in his lime green trunks. Wolf noticed, and couldn't help but stiffen to full length. Fox really was a sub, Wolf thought, and not only that, but a sub who had personally hunted Wolf down just for a chance to serve him! It was at this very moment that Wolf was at his all time highest, feeling like a true pirate king of the galaxy.

Meanwhile, Fox's eyebrows furrowed as he realized he was starting to stiffen in his shorts. The young vulpine began sweating at the brow, praying silently that Wolf wouldn't realize the reason he was getting excited was because everything was going to plan. Fox had wanted a match with Wolf, more specifically, one where Wolf started out thinking he was on top, only to get knocked down a peg or ten by the end, and Fox couldn't have wished for a better set up for it all.

Fox reached down to adjust his swollen crotch and half grunted, half gasped into Wolf's microphone, dropping his own onto the floor, knowing Wolf would consider the idea of them sharing a microphone more romantic and thus find Fox more submissive. Wolf of course grinned at this. "Wolf, erm, D-Daddy... I would be honored to be given a chance to prove my worth to you." Fox reached out to stroke and caress Wolf's thickly sculpted, muscled up six-pack abs, causing a low growl of pleasure to rumble out from Wolf's lips.

"Alright then." Wolf spoke in a low, husky growl, the increasing lust evident in his voice as he reached down to stroke Fox's back, before finally grabbing a handful of that plump, green derier. "You and I will face off, same as any other BWW match, except in this one, you'll be put through a series of tests." Wolf squeezed the vulpine's ass, and Fox gasped out into the microphone, though it was more for show than genuine pain or pleasure. "First, I'm gonna have you kneel before your new tag team partner, your new MASTER." Wolf snarled into the microphone, a devilish glint in his eye as his smirk returned even wider than before. "Then we'll proceed with the match as normal, meaning there's a ninety-nine point nine percent chance you're going to suffer a broken limb or two." Wolf grunted with disinterest. "And then finally, we're going to end the match by hitting you with my signature, The WOLF WIPER!"

The audience's screams couldn't have possibly gotten any louder. Regardless of who they were rooting for, it was always a pleasure for the BWW crowd to bear witness to Wolf's humiliating stink-face style signature. The man was known to be extremely hygienic, but that certainly didn't stop the maneuver from being "the single most humiliating thing I've ever been put through", according to every wrestler willing to comment backstage. Some men even went into detail about how the muscles on Wolf's ass were large enough to flex and trap them in place, offering no escape throughout the duration of the punishing hold. The audience always loved to see a humiliating sight, figuring it was ok to laugh because the victimized wrestlers must be getting paid well for it. If they only knew how wrong they were, with Wolf getting the lion's share of finances for every match he was a part of, they might be less harsh in their roaring applause.

"Alright pup, let's get started. Though it does look good on you, I'm gonna need you to take off your fan shirt. Don't worry. You can put it on after I'm done mopping the floor with, err, training you." Wolf smiled as he reached up to his own shoulder, taking off his black leather open vest.

Within moments both men were shirtless, one in black and blue, the other in green and white as they stood in their opposite corners. Wolf held the microphone still in his hand.

Then the bell rang.

However Wolf didn't move from his corner, instead leaning comfortably against it as he continued to smirk, The lupine then slowly raised a claw to gesture Fox forward, and after the vulpine obediently closed the distance, that same claw was seen pointing to the floor.

Wolf raised a booted ankle to rest it over the third rope, showcasing incredible flexibility for a lupine his age, but more-so, presenting to Fox the navy blue bulge he was now appointed to worship.

"Alright pup, I want you to show everyone here your humility. Show

us all what a good subordinate does. KNEEL!" Wolf half growled, half cooed out the last word, the glint in his purple eye practically sparkling with glee. "Show the audience your true nature, McCloud." Wolf practically purred, grinning so wide his fangs were bared, as he watched the smaller man obediently drop to his knees.

"Mmm, oh Wolf, I don't even know where to begin." Fox cooed as he reached a hand out to rest atop the lupines meaty, tree-trunk thick, killer thigh, and began rubbing it gently.

By now most of the BWW audience had grown silent, admittedly stroking their cocks through their clothes with a few having them already whipped out.

"You tell me to do what comes naturally, but..." McCloud couldn't help but uncurl his smirking lips into a look of determined focus as his hand came to rest atop Wolf's packed manhood. "I don't think you fully realize what that means..." Suddenly Fox's words were cut off, by the sound of Wolf screaming into the microphone. "Do you, BIG BOY?" Suddenly Wolf's scream crescendoed into a yelp, before the sound of the microphone hitting the floor with a thud echoed throughout the arena speakers.

The audience members were on their feet shouting in shock and awe as they watched the smaller, lean muscled contender flex his fit orange body and lift the much bigger man high off his feet, before slamming O'Donnell ass-first into the mat with a heavy thud.

The cameraman set his equipment low, at ring-floor level, to give the best view of O'Donnell's laid out thighs and packed blue crotch. The champion's bulge was currently jutting upwards, visibly swollen above his silver thighs, though it was anyone's guess whether this was due to arousal, pain-induced blood-flow, or both. Even better, the howling lupine's meaty ass mounds were soon added to the mix, seen flexing and squeezing together inside his navy blue trunks as he bridged upwards to grab at his sore crotch.

Now it was Fox's turn to gloat, though the younger canid made much shorter work of his gestures than his notoriously egotistical counterpart. With a kiss to his two index fingers and a double point towards the sky, the vulpine quickly made his way to the turnbuckle, and hopped upwards onto the third rope, poised like a gargoyle, and ready to strike.

A few hundred thousand gasps and cheers later, Fox's body was seen soaring through the sky, performing a front flip before landing his new, signature maneuver, the "Lylat Legdrop", harshly across Wolf's throat. The bigger canid's legs shot skyward from the impact, and the hearts of nearly all audience members raced as Fox went for an early cover, and a potential early upset victory over the long undefeated champ!

One! The referee's hand smacked into the ground, all audience members stared, unblinking, at the ring.

Two! No one moved a muscle. Was this it for the long reigning champ? Was this really all it took all along?

Three! The audience burst into the loudest, most thunderous chorus of cheers and applause the BWW arena had ever seen. Many, nay, almost every audience member rose to give the newfound top dog, Fox McCloud a standing ovation!

Until the ref grabbed Fox's wrist and lowered it, pointing downwards, towards the ropes.

More specifically...

The ref pointed his finger towards the black leather boot of O'Donnell, that currently lay resting atop the first rope, signalling a rope break, and thus nullifying any pinfall Fox might have otherwise earned.

The match was still going!

Fox put his hands on his hips, shaking his head in disbelief. He glared at the ref, those piercing green eyes sending shock-waves into the referees soul, and in more ways than one. However the decision stood, and Fox sighed as he reluctantly accepted the decision and stalked stalking his way towards O'Donnell.

"Ungh... F-Fox... w-wait." The words caused Fox's white boots to stop just short of a stomp to O'Donnell's abdominal, his boot hovering in the air as the vulpine raised his bushy white eyebrows in surprise.

"What is it, Wolf? You finally gonna apologize for all the wrong you've done and come clean? As if I'd fall for that old trick." Fox snorted before ramming his white boot down in a quick, hard stomp to the bigger canids silver furred six-pack abs.

O'Donnell grunted, and jerked up slightly from the impact, but made no moves towards McCloud as he opened his mouth in an, admittedly now more breathy, growl. "Listen here you dirty CUNT-" Suddenly Wolf's purple eye shot wide open as his words were cut off by another loud howl of pain. Fox stood with his white boot now planted firmly into Wolf's groin, grinding his heel in nice and deep.

"You might want to try being more respectful, Wolf. Would do you some real good." Fox smirked, temporarily pausing his assault on the bigger man's crotch. "Now out with it!" Fox wiggled his foot around in an almost playful warning, not causing the big canine any further harm... for now.

"Alright! ALRIGHT!" Wolf hissed, his face growing visibly frustrated at his current predicament. "You... You want to know what happened between your father and I, right boy? Well take the fall, and take my Wolf Wiper after the match like a good pup, and maybe I'll tell you." Wolf sneered, his pearly white fangs casting a reflection of the shiny arena lights as Fox stood above him, frozen in thought.

Slowly, Fox stepped over Wolf, and bent down at the waist, paying no mind to the cameraman blatantly zooming in on his round green buttocks as he leaned down to whisper into Wolf's ear.

"I already know the truth about you, Wolf. I know you were never intimate with my father, even though you wanted to be. I still remember the day he came home from the bar drunk, pissed off after finding out his best friend was, and I quote, a faggot." Wolf's eye shot open, as well as his mouth, in pure horror and disbelief as Fox paused for a moment to let it all sink in. Fox then continued. "But don't worry. Looks aside, I'm quite different from my father. I won't leave you feeling quite so... empty." Fox smirked, before spitting clean into Wolf's open eye. The lupine howled out in agony before Fox grabbed the bigger man's head in his hands, shoved it face-first into his crotch, and barrell-rolled sideways onto his back. Before he knew it, Wolf O'Donnell was locked inside a triangle choke hold.

"C'mon Starwolf! You've always been an escape artist! Let's see you do it now!" Fox sneered before gritting his teeth and flexing his thighs around the big lupine's head, causing a groan to resonate out from the old space outlaw.

Meanwhile Wolf teared up, though not from the pain caused from those thick orange and white furred creamsicle thighs tensing on either side of his head, threatening to crush his skull. No, Wolf felt himself tearing up as he found himself buried nose deep in that all too familiar McCloud musk that he'd long-since thought was buried in his past. Now unearthed, Wolf was free to sniff, drool and whine with glee into the packed lime green trunks of his opponent, who couldn't help but raise his white eyebrows in confusion. "Uhh, Wolf? What're you doi-" Suddenly Fox's words were cut off, by his own wide eyed gasp of confusion, as he felt his thickly muscled orange body being lifted up clean off the ground in a powerbomb!

Before Fox had time to so much as think of a counter, his own lean muscled body was slammed, back-first, into the mat, completely knocking the wind out of him. The next thing he felt was the black leather boot of the Starwolf captain digging deep into the soft flesh of his neck. Wolf bent at the waist, flexing his big gluteals as he applied even more pressure and force to the now trapped pup's neck. Wolf leaned in close and growled. "That was some pretty cunning trickery, pup. I guess I should have expected as much from a McCloud." The lupine sneered. "You want to play with my body and emotions, eh?" Wolf reached down to grab the vulpine by that well-kept white mohawk, dragging the grunting smaller man to his feet. "I could almost say I'm proud of you. No matter. Playtime's OVER!" Wolf sneered, before sending a sudden booted kick straight up into McCloud's own bulging green nutsack. As the vulpine bent at the waist, eyes nearly bulging out from their sockets, McCloud felt his body tense as he stared at the white ring floor. Meanwhile, Wolf wasted no time running at the ropes with a refined speed and grace unmatched by any other man his size.

Bouncing off the ropes and charging back, Wolf used all the momentum currently stored within his large predator body to jump upwards, insanely high off the ground, and raise one booted foot skyward in the process. This finishing maneuver, appropriately named the "Sky-High Gulliotine Kick", showcased surprising flexibility that allowed the big man's foot to raise so high the heel would point straight up towards the ceiling, before he would slap his toe and send the heel of his boot crashing back down into his opponent's neck.

Many onlookers found the finishing maneuver to appear "easily escapeable" yet none had ever countered this move. Wolf had seen to it that he always paralyzed his man in an effective way, whether it be beating them senseless, or in McCloud's case, a solid strike to the testes, before he would go for the maneuver.

No one had countered.

And unfortunately for Fox, he hadn't worn a cup, so today would be no different.

With a sudden yelp, followed immediately by a hard crashing sound and thud, McClouds previously bent over body was now seen laying prone and motionless on the ring floor. The deed was done, by all given accounts. This was the part where Wolf would pin and secure his victory, and after only landing three moves, no less.

Loud boos followed the initial gasps as Wolf crawled over to cover McCloud's small, soft-furred body before he hooked a leg and glared at the booing audience. O'Donnell clamped his hand around McCloud's muzzle as he growled into his ear. "Shouldn't have gotten so cocky, Fox! Now you're MINE."

The audience was no longer cheering or booing, mostly letting out sighs of disappointment, some even getting up to leave early. By all accounts it seemed Wolf had claimed another victim, and simply added another notch to his belt.

But then something miraculous happened.

Just as the referees hand came down to smack the ring floor and signal the "Two!" count, and a hopeful few members of the audience held out hopes for Fox to kick out...

He didn't.

What did happen, however, was Wolf letting out a loud growl of pride and rage as he lifted Fox's head off the mat, breaking the count just before three.

"I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU YET, BOY!" Wolf hollered, more to the audience than the unconscious young pup who currently had stars in his eyes. Wolf flexed his big silver and white furred muscle-daddy body and hoisted the small muscle-pup up over his shoulders in a torture rack. "I STILL GOTTA HIT YOU WITH THE WOLF WIPER! BUT FIRST, I WANNA HEAR YOU SCREAM IF YOU WANT OUT NOW!" Wolf's smile had returned, as he proceeded to stretch McCloud's creamy, short-furred abs in an arch above his shoulders, bouncing the smaller candid's back in the brutal torture rack. The most cruel part, however, was that the big man's hand was covering the smaller man's muzzle, preventing Fox from screaming out his submission as tears began to leak from his eyes.

"Still not giving up?" Wolf mocked his helpless victim with a devilish grin as he proceeded to bounce harder, stomping his foot on the mat with each tug for good effect. "You're tougher than I thought, McCunt! Well, if you insist on staying in this match, who am I to judge?" Wolf finally let go, tossing Fox's body backwards off his shoulders unceremoniously, paying no mind to the squirming, writhing, back-arching boy behind him as he walked over to grab the microphone and speak to the audience.

"Golly gee! McCloud here's got more fight in him than I realized." Despite Wolf's cocky words and tones, his laborious breathing was evident. "I guess I'll pretty much HAVE to take him into my pack now. Well, that is, if he can pass the FINAL TEST." Wolf grinned, dropping the microphone, and turned around before slipping his thumbs into the bottom of his navy blue trunks, and hoisting them up to dig deep into his large, muscular, grey-furred butt-crack. The proud, ultra-masculine champion's attire now closer resembling a thong, or perhaps a more appropriately a body-building poser seeing as how the man considered his ass muscles to be "prize-worthy, perfectly muscled, god-like feats of nature."

The rest of the match was apparently going to be even more unceremonious and degrading for the rookie. O'Donnell dragged McCloud to the corner like a dog to be put in a cage, before tossing him back first into the corner so hard McCloud couldn't help but slump down into a seated position.

Wolf then turned and stood, big, silver furred ass cheeks presented in front of McCloud's face, as if ready for a good, long make-out session. Wolf's tail whipped around wildly, and even seemed to caress and grab McCloud's head from behind and bring it in closer. Wolf was grinning ear to ear again. He'd won. The audience knew it. He knew it. It seemed the only one that didn't know it was the victory bell itself. All he had to do was decide when he would be done wiping his butt with McCloud's pretty-boy face and sit on it for the one-two-three. The thought made Wolf's cock swell inside his trunks.

"W-Wolf..." O'Donnell heard a low, pathetic sounding groan coming out from behind him. The big canid glanced over his shoulder. "Ah, so you're awake for the big finale I see? Perfect timing as always, McCloud." Wolf took a step back, and prepared to jam his ass straight onto the vulpine's muzzle.

"W-Wait!" The sheer, uncharacteristic panic in Fox's voice gave Wolf pause. Maybe part of him really cared for the other man deep down. Maybe he was merely eager to milk the moment. Regardless, Wolf did as he was told, and responded. "What is it McCloud? The clock's tickin'! And these loyal fans paid for a show!"

Fox didn't need to see O'Donnell's face to know that carnivorous grin had reappeared. He also didn't need O'Donnell to take off his trunks to know what kind of underwear he was wearing. Due to how bunched up the older man's trunks were, McCloud could make out the thin, shiny fabric of a pink thong wedged between his cheeks.

Suddenly, a light went on in McCloud's brain, as well as in his trunks.

Making sure to keep the exhausted, gravely tone in his voice, Fox spoke up. "W-Wolf... Please... Could you bring me the microphone? I want to signal my surrender to you loud enough for everyone to hear." He ended the sentence with such pain and misery in his vocals that Wolf almost felt bad as he obliged with a smug grunt.

"Alright."

One ultra cocky, slow and methodical stroll later, Wolf was now standing over Fox with the microphone lowered intentionally to rest at crotch level in the lupine's hand. "Speak." He ordered.

"W-Wolf, I..." Fox started, though already the gravely hint in his voice was gone. "I've decided that, if... if I'm to join your pack, and accept you as... mm, my new daddy." Wolf's cock throbbed intently at the remark. "I want to get all of your scent on me as I'm inducted into the pack. I... I don't want your trunks in the way! Would you... do me the honor of stripping from your trunks, and giving me the first ever Wolf Wiper in whatever macho, hunky, manly underwear you've got underneath your trunks?"

Fox was grinning now, as Wolf stood over him, mortified. He'd been caught.

All his life O'Donnell had a feminine side that he'd insisted stay secret, yet week after week he couldn't help but wear the skimpiest, most girly pink thong he could find under his wrestling attire. He'd always liked to live on the edge, to flirt with the danger that one day his own trunks might get pulled down to reveal his inner pup. However, it never occurred to O'Donnell that one day it would happen like this, that he would get openly challenged, nay, dared, to lower his own trunks in front of the world.

O'Donnell's tail whipped around wildly in anxiety,,, and excitement, as the bigger man stood there, glaring down at the smug, smiling vulpine. "You little shit." He mouthed, though he made sure it wasn't loud enough to get picked up on the microphone, which was still near the wolf's crotch until he finally lifted it up towards his mouth.

"UH..." For the first time in Wolf's career, he found his mouth dry as he held the microphone up to his mouth. The audience could pick up the sight of sweat beads forming on his brow, as well as his still mostly exposed ass. Meanwhile the cameraman did an excellent job zooming into the man's butt-crack to reveal the line of the pink thong currently in question. Snickering could be heard as Wolf's thonged ass appeared on the titantron before the big man growled into the microphone and the camera cut back to his face.

"Alright!" Wolf snarled, even as a bit of blush came over his cheeks. "If you want to get humiliated more than any other man ever has in this business..." Suddenly Wolf felt as though he was talking more to himself than Fox. "You'll get what you so badly desire."

And with that, Wolf slipped both of his thumbs into the waistband of his trunks, and bent at the waist, shoving them down to his ankles.

Immediately the audience, and the entire camera lens, was met with the sight of a big, burly, well developed grey furred set of sweaty ass mounds that were flossed, almost comically, by the line of a thin, shiny pink thong. Beneath rested an impressively packed crotch, but almost no one was focused on that aspect as, almost all at once, thunderous laughter began to echo throughout the arena. Wolf had taken a gamble on his machismo, hoping by some miracle he would be "manly enough to pull off pink without question", but he was wrong, very wrong.

From an upside down view, Wolf's blushing face was able to look through his legs at the heckling, roaring audience members that all either had a finger or cellphone raised, all pointed straight at his keister. The big man's uncovered purple eye went wide, his white eyebrow furrowing in rage as a mixture of emotions ran through him: anger, anxiety, disappointment in himself for falling victim to the Fox's cunning as well as his own stubbornness and pride. Yet above all of these emotions, there was another rising faster and faster towards the surface, one O'Donnell didn't want to focus on or even admit to, as he felt his cock twitch once more inside his cute, itty-bitty pink thong.

Stepping out of his trunks, O'Donnell's face was covered in a red blush as he stood up straight, puffed his chest out and snarled into the microphone. "DON'T YOU LAUGH AT ME! YOU PUNY, INSIGNIFICANT COWARDS COULDN'T DREAM OF BECOMING HALF AS ECCENTRICALLY STYLED AS ME!" Wolf shouted out angrily, only to find the sweat dripping further down his brow as the audience roared even louder at his own use of the word "eccentrically" to describe himself. Wolf growled and gulped, gritting his teeth in frustration. "MY EX GIRLFRIEND GOT ME THIS THONG!" He explained, defensively now, only to get berated with even louder laughter from the now relentless audience. For the first time in his entire BWW career, Wolf O'Donnell felt small as he stood in the center of the ring, looking out into the roaring sea of a crowd. "I... I..." Wolf's purple eye was fully widened, and perhaps, maybe even on the verge of tears as he screamed. "THIS IS MEN'S UNDERWEAR DAMN IT! I-"

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Wolf's ranting screams were cut off by a sharp yelp of pain, as his big, practically naked body tensed, and he looked down, the camera lens following his gaze, to find Fox, now fully alert, kneeling behind him, with the vulpine's fist rammed up between the lupine's meaty thighs, effectively low-blowing him from behind. Suddenly the audience was letting out loud cheers! And before Fox lost momentum, he quickly spun Wolf around and thrust his head thrust between McCloud's own meaty orange thighs. With the audience torn between ongoing cackles, cheers and gasps of surprise, McCloud reached down to hook both of Wolf's arms, and with a single strong flex of his own beefy orange furred thighs and arms, hoisted the big man upside down, before jumping up and dropping Wolf, head-first, into the mat with the move that would later be known as McCloud's trademark finisher: a butterfly pile-driver known as "The Lylat Driver!"

This was the end. Just like that, in a matter of moments, the tables had been completely turned on the big, cocky, arrogant wolf, and through a matter of wits and cunning, it had become O'Donnell's turn to get knocked out. Unlike his opponent, however, Fox didn't waste time getting cocky. Instead the vulpine went for the pin immediately, hooking his downed opponent's meaty, grey furred, tree-trunk thick thigh, and leaning his vulpine back across the thickly muscle lupine's chest as he waited for the ref to count.

"One!" Fox jerked that meaty thigh closer, putting more weight on Wolf's shoulders.

"Two!" Fox's white-booted feet began rapidly stomping on the mat in pure adrenaline and excitement.

"THREE!" Fox threw that meaty thigh down like a sack of garbage as he sat up, beads of sweat trickling down between his wide, emerald green eyes as the bell rang and the crowd erupted into a thunderstorm of cheers and chaotic appraisal.

By all accounts, the big bad wolf's reign of terror was at an end, at least for this week. Sure, he still technically had his championship belt, but after tonight's performance, it would only be a matter of time before that belt found its way around a new champion's waist.

McCloud knew it.

The audience knew it.

And deep down, even Wolf knew it.

McCloud stood, raising a hand up to wipe the sweat from his brow and fling it onto the ring mat, before he looked out into the roaring crowd, soaking up the moment, and walked to the turnbuckle to climb and pose, relishing in his victory.

It was after several minutes of cheering, applause, and thunderous "WOLF IS YOUR BITCH! WOLF IS YOUR BITCH!" chants that Fox finally hopped off the fourth turnbuckle and took his own slow, cocky stroll towards the microphone, bending down slowly, relishing in this moment, before he stood, and brought the piece to his handsome, white furred muzzle. "You know, Wolf, that was a good match! A real back and fourth show of wits, trickery, power, speed and agility, but more than that, it was a match I'm proud to call my first." Fox looked down at Wolf's prone body. The big man was still knocked out, causing Fox to smirk as he continued his monologue, slowly squatting down to grab Wolf's headfur and lift his unconscious face off the mat. "How about you Wolf? Did you enjoy getting your ass kicked?" Fox grinned, looking out at the audience that burst into another round of cheers as Wolf, of course, said nothing. Fox dropped the man's head as he stood, looking over the prone, laid out, beefy silver furred body in the black leather gear and pretty little pink thong. "You know, there's only one thing that's missing! One thing left that I gotta do." Fox continued to stare at that plump, grey furred ass as he reached down to adjust his own swollen, lime green crotch. "I gotta take your Wolf Wiper, and see how I do!"

Now Fox's face held the most devilish smirk the audience had ever seen as the sweaty, flexing, orange and white furred vulpine grabbed the bigger, unconscious lupine by those black leather boots and dragged him with surprising ease towards the turnbuckle. The audience was silent in their suspicion and confusion of what exactly Fox meant. After all, it's not like Wolf could actually stand and apply his own version of the stink-face while he was unconscious, could he?

Then, to the ongoing confusion of the hushed audience, Fox sat down in the corner, in position for the Wolf Wiper. The audience began to whisper amongst themselves. Was Wolf merely playing possum? Did Fox know the big man was faking his unconsciousness?

As it turned out, neither were the case, as Fox's face turned into an expression of effort and determination, as he flexed his own mighty lean muscled body and, grabbing the face-down Wolf by the ankles of his boots, pulled the big man's body so that his ass was resting mere inches in front of Fox's face, with his legs hanging outside the ring on the second rope, on either side of Fox's head.

Suddenly the audience's confusion turned to excitement, though the hush still remained over the crowd as they began preparing for a... new... type of show. Several males in the front row already had their cocks out and were visibly stroking them. It wasn't hard for anyone watching at home to know exactly what was about to happen.

Fox was about to take the audience's chant, "WOLF IS YOUR BITCH", and make it literal.

Then, without further ado, Fox's face disappeared between Wolf O'Donnell's large, grey furred ass cheeks. The lupine's tail was curved ever so perfectly to the side, allowing the cameraman and audience to get a perfect, uninterrupted view of those white eyebrows and perked orange fox ears wiggling in delight above the meaty ass mounds as the nearby microphone picked up the sound of vicious, hungry snarling, followed by the feint snap of fabric. Soon that flimsy pink thong was seen, ripped apart, with the pathetic excuse for an ass covering falling down to rest on top of Wolf's upside down lower back. The camera could then pick up on Wolf O'Donnell's newly exposed sheath and balls, but neither the cameraman nor the audience paid any mind as the lens zoomed in further on that ass.

Finally, Fox came up for a breath of fresh air before he licked his lips, and breathily panted out loud enough for the nearby microphone to pick up. "You know, I don't know what all the other wrestlers have been complaining about! Actually tastes pretty sweet!" Fox enthused with a smack of that ass to punctuate his sentence.

It was another ten whole minutes of live, raw, unfiltered ass eating before McCloud was finally done, coming up for air and licking the drool from his lips for the sixth and final time. The fox then shoved his opponent's body unceremoniously out of the corner, with Wolf's body landing up close and personal, in perfect view of the camera. With one meaty leg on each side, the cameraman's lens first panned upward to show O'Donnell's own spent cock, dripping fresh cum down onto his abs, before it panned downward... to reveal Wolf's bright pink butt-hole, gaping, and leaking saliva onto the ring floor.

TWO YEARS LATER

"My, what wonderful TITS you have!"

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?"

"Well I'm not the one with the huge muscle-TITS here, Wolf. Seriously, I don't know why they never made you wear a bra with these things hanging out, back when I let you wrestle in the fed, I mean."

Fox gave Wolf's large, muscular pecs a playful squeeze then even went so far as to pinch them on their large, black nipples, as he laid, spooning the bigger man from behind in their now shared bed. On this night, Fox had made Wolf doll himself up a bit, his feminization of the older mammal seeming to have no end, as he forced the man to play the part of Little Red Riding Hood's new wolf grandmother. It was a ridiculous part, and Fox knew as much, but he'd be damned if he didn't love the way Wolf looked at him, seeming to study him with the composure and wisdom of a scholar, from underneath those glasses. The slutty, red silk dress that didn't even reach all the way down wolf's thighs really was just a bonus.

Fox on the other hand was, of course, a very macho, genderbent version of Little Red Riding Hood. Shirtless, with his orange and white furred body stuffed into nearly skin tight military camo cargo pants and his signature red bandana wrapped around his head instead of his neck, he looked more like a bandit than a helpless grandson.

The vulpine continued to tug at the older man's nipples, shushing the whines and groans of pain that would echo out from the old wolf's lips, causing Fox's crotch to tent ever further, before he reached down to undo the belt buckle. "I wonder if we could milk these? I bet an old bitch like you would lactate..." Fox leaned in closer to Wolf's ear, whispering as he gave those black nipples a rough, harsh twist. "For a REAL man."

Wolf's howling echoed out from the room, only to get muffled as Fox barrell-rolled him onto his stomach, and pushed him face first into the pillows. Wasting no time grabbing lube from the nearby nightstand and drizzling it onto that fat, grey and white furred old man bubble ass underneath him, Fox proceeded to grab the old man by the hips and raise him into a face down as up position.

The sound of rough, loud groaning, as well as the sound of the headboard repeatedly slamming into the wall, echoed out from the room over the course of the next couple hours. Anyone within a fifty foot radius would be sure to hear fevered, lust-filled groans and high pitched moaning.

All in all, it was just another day in the life...

of Mr. and Mr. McCloud.

END