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A Beast in the Barnyard

"We're here, sir," the white-furred fox in the driver's seat announced before peering down at the dashboard's GPS and adjusting his black cap. "At least, I think we are..."

Everard snorted, leaning into the tinted windows. The two-story home was covered in chipped paint that revealed weather-stained wood beneath it. The lawn was overgrown with patches of tall grass and clover that had been mowed to make a narrow path leading to the front porch's staircase, which then crept around to the back.

This was not countryside luxury or even, heaven forbid, country kitsch.

This was mere...country!

Shuddering, Everard tightened the blanket across his lap. The wolf's gray fur, normally shiny and lustrous, was looking a bit drab these days and recent stress had given him bags underneath his eyes.

How has it come to this?

"Sir, I would just like to say..." the fox cleared his throat, "...Lucy wrote a letter back to us from the academy, all by herself according to her teacher! She even bought the postage, imagine that?"

"That's something else! She's only six years old?"

"Yes!"

Gritting his teeth, Everard listened to his chauffeur patiently. The wolf wanted to snap and tell him to pipe down, but as far as his servant was concerned he was coming here for a discussion about purchasing new land and nothing truly pressing. Rumors were starting to circulate and Everard wanted to keep his help happy.

"Sir, she wouldn't have had this education without your help, Primus Academy...I can't thank you enough!"

"It's nothing..." Everard paused, mentally skimming through the file cabinet of his brain, "...Eric. I couldn't let your daughter's talents go to waste!"

And so you'd owe me a favor if you uncover any unfortunate rumors...

Everard opened the door of the limousine before Eric had a chance to get up and do it himself. Brushing the blanket aside, Everard quickly lifted himself off of the seat and onto the dirt below.

"By the way, sir?"

Everard's hackles raised and he positioned his lower body behind the open door.

"The kilt, sir," Eric nodded. Everard was wearing a green and black kilt made of the finest imported wool along with a more typical black sport jacket. "You're making an excellent fashion statement! I suspect the entire polo club will copy you by next weekend!"

"Ah, yes, very good!" Everard felt his skin burning up beneath his fur. The heavy weight between his legs was starting to ache. Pulling out his wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket, Everard passed a few bills towards the driver. "You seemed interested in that barbecue place ten miles back, why don't you go and get yourself lunch? Take your time, in fact, I'll call you when I'm ready."

"Thank you, sir!"

With a hiss and a roar of the engine, Eric wasted no time driving away. The fox gave his employer a friendly wave which Everard returned and soon enough, the wolf was alone.

Damn, here we go...

Though he did his best to keep his current condition a secret, there was no effective way of doing so when moving. A wheelchair would have worked, but then everyone would have known something was wrong then. And as for walking...

Everard had to sort of waddle a bit in order to stop his enlarged testicles from slapping together. His cock was still in its sheath, though the weight of the massive cock within it was pulling him down. The kilt was slightly suspicious but it was the only article of lowerwear that Everard could think of wearing that could be written off as fashionable, even if it led to potential cases of someone getting an unwelcome peek.

Sniffing the air, Everard caught wind of a few scents. Mostly the earthy smell of horse, but also a few canines. The doctor had told Everard on the phone that he had a few assistants, that was likely them.

At least he has no neighbors, Everard looked around at the empty, undeveloped fields surrounding the home.

Upon reaching the porch stairs, Everard took one step onto them and his foot went through the wood like it was made of paper. His balls were just a mere inch away from slamming into the corner of the remains of the step, to which Everard sighed in relief, but found himself unable to free his leg from the splintered step.

"Damnation!" Everard growled as he lifted his leg and got some of his fur tangled on a stray nail.

Atop the porch, there was a sharp squeak as the front door slowly swung open.

"Well, well, didn't know I set out a wolf-trap, but looky here!"

Burning with embarrassment, Everard looked up and found the alleged doctor he was here to meet. If Everard hadn't talked with him on the phone, he would have written the brown horse standing tall above him as a mere farmer or something. He was wearing a torn t-shirt that had been washed so many times that whatever advertisement it had before was nothing more than a few specks. His jeans were full of holes, including at least one around his thighs which helped waft the grassy smell of his equine musk towards the wolf.

Part of Everard wanted to run away but he had already sent the driver to lunch and he was stuck.

Most importantly though, he had no other options.

"Come on," the horse tossed his messy, uncombed mane, "let's get ya inside."

Grabbing Everard by the shoulders, the horse effortlessly lifted him and carried him across the porch and into the house.

"Everard, I presume?" the horse asked with a faux-upper class sneer as he walked into a living room with a kitchen attached. A mountain of dishes were piled up in the sink.

"Yes," Everard frowned, embarrassed at being carried like a ragdoll, "and you must be Dr. Otis."

"Just Otis, thank you."

"It said doctor on the referral I got."

"Yeah, uh..." Otis kicked open a screen door at the back of the house, leading onto another porch with a view of a barn with faded red paint, "...I mean, I am a doctor but some folks get mad if I call myself that. Folks get jealous in the business, you know?"

"What kind of folks?" Everard narrowed his eyes as the horse took them down the steps.

Otis grumbled, weaving them through the open doors of the barn, "National Medical Association."

Everard felt a chill run down his spine upon hearing that and the barn added to his fears. Though it was cleaner than the house, it was still a barn with flooring covered in old straw. A medical examination bed along with some storage shelves were in the main entrance area and although they looked relatively clean they were, in the end, still in an old barn.

But most concerning were the tools hanging from the wall. The first thing Everard noticed was a few bear traps and some pre-tied rope snares, which he wrote off at first as just a precaution for living in the countryside, but then he saw other things that were harder to explain. Things like chains, including a set that appeared to be bound into the form of some kind of harness, and what appeared to be a large cone, the kind you put around a pet dog after surgery so they don't chew their stitches, except far larger.

"Now hold on!" Otis interrupted as Everard began to squirm and placed the wolf down on a chair by the entrance of the barn. "Before you leave, I know I'm your only chance at curin' this; if anyone knows a thin' or two about a big cock, it's a horse like me! If you wanna leave though, I know a guy looking for fetish models, he'd be very interested in you."

"Absolutely not!" Everard sniffed. "But you do have a point, the National Medical Association has failed to help me in any degree."

"Damn straight, now uh," Otis grabbed another chair and held his two hands in front of him, spreading them apart. "Can I have a look?"

Blushing, Everard grabbed the hem of his kilt and lifted it up. His balls were the size of tennis balls.

Immediately, Otis's nostrils flared and he covered his nose, "Hoo-wee! Smells like a fox in heat!"

Everard wrinkled his snout, "Believe me, I know, it's part of the-"

Cutting himself off, Everard's blood went cold.

"Fox in heat?" Everard asked.

"More or less."

Eric, did he smell me? Does he know something is wrong with me?

Everard shook the paranoia from his brain. There was no point in going down that tunnel, his servant would keep a secret one way or another, lest he face consequences.

"Roll up your sleeves," Otis ordered as the horse swung over to a tool tray on wheels, rolling it over with a rattle of metal. "So, who'd you piss off?"

"Absolutely no one!" Everard snorted as the horse wrapped a blood pressure armband around the wolf's arm. "I'll have you know I'm an innocent wolf!"

"You might wanna chill out, less'n you want a high blood pressure diagnosis," Otis squeezed the ball attached to the cuffs, inflating it until it squeezed tightly around Everard's arm. "Only two things can cause this to a wolf, one of them is a jungle tick that is listed as 'Goin' extinct, but who gives a fuck,' and I'm guessin' you haven't stepped foot in their range."

"Never did care for humid vacation spots, I much prefer the mountains," Everard frowned. "What's the second?"

"Blood pressure good," Otis ripped the cuff away. "A curse, what else?"

"A curse!?"

"Yeah, that's why I asked who ya pissed off," Otis removed a tongue depressor from a glass jar. "Say ah..."

Everard tried to speak but the horse thrust the depressor into the wolf's mouth and he was unable to say anything more than a few guttural mumbles.

"Tonsils look okay, hrm..."

The moment Otis removed the depressor and tossed it back into the glass jar with the rest of them, Everard spoke, "Think I might have an idea."

"Hold still," Otis retrieved an electrical thermometer and jabbed it into Everard's pointed ear.

Everard was briefly offended into silence, having seen a logo on the thermometer of a feral canine implying it was a veterinarian thermometer, but kept his cool and explained, "I was having a night out with some of my fellow chums from the polo club to paint the town red and maybe enjoy some carnal-"

"Hold on, just so you know I'm not a shrink and I'm sure as hell not a priest, so if you're gonna tell me you're the Red Light Lasher and one of your victims put a curse on you, I gotta tell the cops."

"What the...no!" Everard growled. "Would you let me finish!?"

A sharp ding rang out and Otis pulled the thermometer out, "Thirty-eight point eight Celsius, normal for a canine."

Otis put the thermometer back on the tray without washing the ends.

"So, as I was trying to say," Everard cleared his throat. "When we arrived downtown, I parked behind a car with a badly banged-up bumper. I did not think much of it, but when we got out some fox barged out of a store and accused us of crashing into his car. I thought he was going to just demand some insurance money, you know how people are when they see folks of means such as myself, but instead he pointed his claw at us and screamed that he'd curse me! Curse me, he screamed!"

Otis rubbed his chin, "Startin' to come together now."

"Serves me right for not having Eric drive us! Always make sure you use the help whenever possible!"

"Sure," Otis mumbled and suddenly reached up Everard's kilt, running his smooth hands across the wolf's sheath.

Everard's eyes went wide and he slowly lowered his head in disbelief. His eyes were not deceiving him though and whatever ounce of excusability the horse had in Everard's eyes vanished once he started slowly massaging his sheath.

"What the..." Everard suppressed a moan as the horse continued to rub, "...hell are you doing!?"

"What's it look like?" Otis snorted. "Givin' you a damn diagnosis, maybe a treatment, we'll see."

Slapping the horse's hand away, Everard sprang to his feet and backed away.

"This is not what I agreed to!"

"Look son, this is one hundred percent just me bein' a damn professional, got nothin' to do with me hankerin' for some wolf cock. You think this is fun for me, cuz it ain't."

Sighing, Everard looked over to the side of the bed, "This is so degrading."

"You wanna lie down? Can put some music on if it makes you more comfy."

"Let's just get this over with."

With a disdainful pout, Everard sat down on the bed and carefully lied down. While Otis rolled the chair around, Everard unraveled his kilt and tossed it to the side, exposing his swollen genitals to the horse.

"Didn't have to do that," Otis said.

"Might as well take the stupid thing off," Everard shut his eyes for a few seconds and sighed. "Continue."

Otis immediately grasped Everard's sheath firmly, forcing the wolf to yelp with surprise despite anticipating it. Otis's rough fingers rolled across the fur, hard enough that it felt like his fingers were inside his sheath, pressing against his cock.

"Yeah, come on now..." Otis cooed, circling his finger around the sheath's hole, brushing against the tip, "...come on out..."

Much to Everard's chagrin, the red tip of his cock poked out of its hole.

"That's a good boy..."

Otis flicked the top of Everard's tapered cock and the wolf whined, gritting his teeth as his cock pulsed and shivered.

"Don't do that!" Everard snarled, though he had to privately admit it felt good.

"All part of the procedure, boy," Otis pinched Everard's sheath, slowly but very firmly sliding it up and down until more of his cock began to slip out.

Everard burned up at seeing the massive girth of his cursed cock. It had hardly been the first time he saw it escape his sheath, but it never ceased to humiliate him even in private. His cock was an angry red with throbbing, pulsating veins all along its shaft. It was as long as and as wide as Otis's forearm and Everard truly was not sure how it managed to fit inside his sheath.

But when have curses ever been logical?

Finally, Otis peeled back the foreskin all the way after the final inch of cock had escaped. The horse whistled before coughing and waving his hand in front of his long nose.

"You sure you want this curse lifted?"

"Yes!" Everard snapped.

"Suit yourself."

Otis wrapped his hand around Everard's rigid shaft, just barely able to reach around the whole thing, and firmly straddled it in his vice-like grip as he slowly slid up its length.

"That's it...who's a good boy?"

Although Everard's skin burned up with humiliation at being talked to like that, his cock seemed to disagree. The red log twinged with arousal along with a spurt of precum that shot onto the ground below the bed.

Otis blinked, kneeling down with his hand still on Everard's cock and examined the clear fluid in the straw.

"It always do that?"

"No."

Clicking his tongue, Otis stood back up, "We're gonna need a bucket. JEFF! BUCKET!"

Before Everard could object, Otis gave his cock a tight squeeze. Another dribble of precum oozed out just before one of the stall doors crashed open and white wolf in a lab coat came rushing out, cradling a bucket.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" the wolf sang as he leaped forward, catching a shot of precum with the bucket. "Sorry I'm late, boss!"

"Good boy," Otis said, his eyes still locked on Everard's cock. Regardless of who he directed it towards, Jeff's bushy tail wagged behind him, accepting the praise.

Everard on the other hand, folded his ears back and grumbled. This didn't last long, for Otis pressed a single finger along the center of Everard's shaft and traced it all the way to the tip. There was something almost mystical to the movements and a subtle whisper of pleasure trailed behind where the horse touched him.

Upon reaching the tip, Otis gave the wolf a sharp tap.

"Ahhhhhh!" Everard's cock suddenly exploded with pleasure, shivering and convulsing as multiple jets of precum shot out and Jeff caught them like a dutiful servant.

"Oooh!" Jeff cheered. "The Polar Planter! Amazing!"

Everard blinked, trying to process what he just heard, "The Polar...what!?"

"Do the Saddle Driver next!" Jeff cheered.

"No, no!" another stall door crashed open and a brown coyote wearing nothing but overalls appeared. "The Knotbuster!"

"C'mon, now," Otis rested his palm on Everard's penis, patting it gently, "ya'll know I ain't doin' this to make a show of it."

"I should damn well hope not!" Everard snapped, "Now quit fool-"

Everard was cut-off by the horse squeezing his cock like a stress-ball, stunning both the wolf's mouth and his body while a slow gasp escaped from his throat.

"The Stunner!" Otis announced, showing off his square teeth in a grin towards his assistants, who immediately broke out into cheers and applauded.

Jeff caught a spurt of pre-cum in the leg, having been too distracted by the spectacle to have aimed the bucket right. The white wolf seemed a bit too unconcerned, even a bit giggly, to have been hit with another wolf's fluids.

Growling, Everard bared his fangs but the horse cared not for the threat, slapping his palm on the wolf's balls. Otis rolled his palm gently around the sack holding those massive spheres, slowly journeying up until he was at the base of Everard's cock once again, tickling the underside.

Everard wanted to leave but the size of his cock and the sheer pleasure he was getting made that difficult. He no longer wished to take part in the experiment and wanted to do nothing more than leave and leave now.

"Enough!" Everard snapped, using his sheer force of will to shove away his body's traitorous desires. His cock went slightly limp, relatively speaking of course as it was still built like a marble column. "This game is ov-"

Otis responded by tightly clenching his hand around Everard's cock, cutting off the wolf's speech and forcing him to lean back, gasping helplessly as he was once again bound by the horse's strength.

Gritting his teeth, a low growl rumbled in Everard's chest as he tried to get himself back into control. He could feel pleasure growing in his cock, crawling up it just as Otis had been while he tickled him.

"He's trying so hard to resist," the coyote whispered.

"Trying," Jeff sneered with a shrug, "but failing."

Enraged by the flippant remark, Everard forced himself to sit up as best as he could.

"I said, ENOUGH!" Everard snapped his jaws, his fangs clicking together with a ferocious snap as flecks of spittle shot forward and slapped Otis across his long face. Everyone stared at Everard in silence and the wolf tried to continue objective but found that he was so enraged by his treatment that nothing more than a series of guttural noises and growls came out of his throat.

"Alright, boy, think you're gettin' a bit too predatory," Otis released his grip on the wolf's cock and moved his head from side-to-side, cracking his joints. "Let's get ya a bit more domesticated."

Everard titled his head, suddenly confused. His voice returned to him just in time to ask, "What do you-?"

Otis suddenly lunged and wrapped his arms around Everard, flipping the wolf halfway around without so much as any sign of effort. By the time Everard's world stopped spinning, he found himself on all fours with his cock trailing downward and to the side down off of the bed.

"A 180!" the coyote cheered and slapped Jeff on the shoulder. "Bet you didn't see that one coming!"

"Pups got no chance now!"

Everard was dizzy and burning with anger as Otis tapped the base of his cock with one finger.

"Now, where were we, Bessie? Ah, yeah..."

Everard tried to cover his shame with his tail, but there was no chance of that working. Otis once again began to slowly tickle the base of Everard's cock, slowly creeping up the length of it. Once again, Everard found himself unable to move or resist, the pleasure and the weight of his cock tying him down.

As Otis reached the length of the cock on the edge of the bed, the long bit of the phallus hanging downward quickly began to rise, forming a diving board for Otis's creeping hand to walk along.

"It's finally coming..." Jeff whispered

The two spectators leaned in with a gasp, their eyes locked on Otis's hand as it finally reached Everard's tapered tip. Otis began to quicken his pace, tormenting the tip with tickles in rapid succession while Everard helplessly snapped his jaws at thin air, unable to resist much more than that.

Shifting gears, Otis began swishing his palm across the tip of Everard's cock, almost as if he was summoning something from within to come out.

"The Volcano!" the spectators exclaimed.

Gritting his teeth, Everard prepared himself. Pleasure was welling up in the base of his cock, where the horse was tending to him, and Everard knew that he was going to do something very surprising, but he did not know what or when.

"Here he comes..." Otis muttered.

Everard's knot swelled, looking almost angry with its red shade and thick veins. Everard felt weak and light-headed, no doubt from all the blood rushing to his knot; though he was not tied to anyone, there was little chance of resisting.

Otis wrapped his hand behind the base of the knot and gripped it tightly, simulating a copial tie. Everard shifted his hips, trying to budge, but he was stuck behind the horse's powerful grip as he began to tug at it.

"C'mon girl, we need to get ya milked 'fore noon..."

Everard's cock was twitching on its own. The wolf had little power over it, but he tried to focus and for a moment he was able to block out the stimulation he was getting.

But all of his defenses shattered when Otis suddenly released his grip, sliding over the knot, and grabbing the base of Everard's cock. Otis glided up the shaft with lightning speed while also guiding the erect cock's position on the side of the bed, pointing at Jeff, who had his bucket aimed and ready. The pleasure was almost blinding, though it only lasted for a mere second, and the moment Otis's hand brushed the tip of Everard's tapered cock, the promised volcanic eruption happened.

Everard's cock twitched and shook, shooting forth a veritable tidal wave of semen and poor Jeff's bucket was not nearly big enough to catch all of it. The powerful jets splashed out of the bucket, catching Jeff in his hands and legs, spilling rancid-smelling cum between his legs onto the ground.

Everard rolled his eyes and let his tongue loll out, the sheer pleasure he got from each blast of cum being enough to erode his decorum. His arms and legs began to shake, threatening to collapse under the wolf's weakened state.

"...five, six..." the horse counted with each pulse, expertly flexing his grip behind the wolf's knot just before each spurt and coaxing the maximum amount of warm goo, "...hoo wee, lookit that boy go!"

A stray shot hit the coyote in the chest, knocking him to the ground, the liquid thick and viscous enough to pin him to the floor. Otis grabbed Everard's cock with both hands as it shuddered violently, trying to guide its aim while Jeff's bucket quickly filled up to the brim. It was almost like it was fighting back, trying to cover the entire room in cum, but Otis was too powerful to let it make a mess.

"Sixteen, seventeen..."

Jeff suddenly placed the bucket on the ground, catching a creamy shot to the chest. Unlike the coyote though, Jeff stood firm despite the cum dripping from his body and picked up a replacement bucket, taking position once more and grabbing the next rope successfully. The metal bucket echoed a loud PING like a spittoon in an old Western movie.

It seemed like the endless jets of cum would never stop, but gradually each pulsation grew weaker and the amount of cum decreased until it was just a few little drops spurting out onto the ground; Jeff having filled the bucket up entirely.

"Thirty six!" Otis laughed, walking up alongside the bed and rubbing Everard on the head. "Ain't never seen anythin' like that! Good wolf!"

Everard rested his head on the pillow, still on all fours and ensnared by the afterglow of his orgasm, unable to so much as put his tongue back in his mouth. As much as he wanted to deny it, that had been the most pleasurable sexual act he had partaken in, and as one of the nation's most eligible bachelors he had experimented with many folks in high society. Not one of them came close to this horse and part of Everard imagined it would be the same even without the curse.

However, as his erogenous bonds slowly faded and sanity restored to his brain, anger once again returned.

"How dare you!" Everard rolled around onto his back, cock still aching with remnants of pleasure. "How dare you milk me like a cow in front of your...your..."

"Assistants?" Otis looked over at Jeff and the coyote, the latter of whom was patting himself dry with a towel. "Ain't you ever had a doctor who let med students shadow 'em?"

"That's not the point!" Everard snapped. "And what the hell do you need all that semen for anyways? Are you going to sell it at a farmer's market!?"

"Huh, not a bad idea," Otis rubbed his chin. "City folk buy all kinds of stupid shit at those. Could call it a protein shake or somethin' like that."

"I forbid it!" Everard pounded his fist onto the bed. "If I hear about a single drop of that for sale somewhere, I'll-"

"Relax, was just fuckin' around, quit yer barkin'," Otis grabbed a steel jar from the counter and rattled it. "Want a treat?"

"No!"

"Yer loss," Otis flipped open the lid and snatched two bone-shaped biscuits from it and tossed them across the barn. Both Jeff and the coyote leaped into the air, catching them in their jaws. "Got lots of iron in it, it'd help you recover."

"I said no!" Everard growled. "Now quit changing the subject, what do you need all that semen for!?"

"For testin'," Otis snapped his fingers and his two assistants picked up the bucket, carrying it into one of the stalls. "And as for why I took that much, well, you didn't give me much of a choice, did ya?"

"I..." Eveard halted. As much as he hated to admit it, the horse had a point.

"And well, as for all the funny names for my techniques," Otis shrugged, "we like to have a little fun here, makes the job easier. We're still doin' this for you, not because we're a buncha perverts or nothin'."

Everard wanted to object but once again found himself speechless. Morale-boosting had been a big initiative of Everard's when he took over his father's businesses and sometimes rather goofy exercises were recommended to keep the employees happy.

Granted, none of those studies ever suggested anything this crude, but Everard was aware that he was in a very unusual situation and inside a practice that could very generously be described as merely unorthodox.

"I must admit, I'm a little uncomfortable. You do have a bit of a point but..."

"Well," Otis cleared his throat, "guess we could tone it down a bit."

"That would be appreciated," Everard sighed.

"Hrm," Otis murmured before craning his neck back and called out. "Bring out the throne!"

Deep within the stalls, a wheel squeaked followed by a bang as a stall door was kicked open. Everard blinked, leaning forward to try and catch a glimpse of what laid down the hall, but could see nothing until the source of the noise revealed itself.

The coyote and the wolf were wheeling something Everard could not quite recognize. It looked like a long bench at first with padded cushioning atop it, but the rear of it curved upward in a way that looked rather uncomfortable to sit on. Dangling belts and straps, along with some straight metal nozzles at the front further confused Everard.

"What the hell is this, some kind of torture device?" Everard raised his brow at the horse.

"Right, so," Otis rubbed his chin and peered over at the device, "from what the tests show, if we wanna get you cured, we gotta get you to cum really hard."

"You haven't even looked at the test results!"

"Told my assistants that we'd probably have to do this and if they found nothin' to object with to just move onto this," Otis smiled a crack, just enough to expose his teeth. "Yer gonna find that there's a lot of things canines get that can be cured with enough dicking."

It was only at this point that Everard noticed the hole fashioned into the end of the cushioning that bore the spade-like shape of a canine vagina, except far larger than one would expect.

"Is that a breeding mount!?" Everard shouted.

"Ah, yer familiar with it then?"

"I am in the Polo Club and I've seen it in the stables for our..."

Otis coughed.

"...Horses," Everard continued. "But isn't that a little too big for dog-breeding?"

"Not fer two-legged ones like you."

"Eh?"

Without warning, the horse scooped Everard up in his strong arms. The wolf's enlarged cock hung towards the ground, dripping a few stray beads of leftover cum onto the ground as he was carried over to the mount.

"Unhand me!" Everard tried to struggle but he was no match for the horse's strength.

"Look, we'll put you on the mount and if you wanna stop, we'll stop, but let's just get you settled in first..."

Everard's hips were pressed up against the part of the mount that sloped upwards, though his cock hung low to the ground away from the welcoming hole. Everard could see the cushions below him were slick with old stains and shuddered as his fur stuck to the unknown fluids as he was laid down, holding his breath so as to not breathe in whatever it was on the seat. His snout pressed up against the edge of the cushions, just before the strange nozzles.

Clearly the mount isn't being used properly if the stains are here! Everard grit his teeth together, trying to push the thought out of his head.

Eventually, Everard realized that he had to breathe and inhaled, which immediately set his wet nose on fire. Five, ten...hundreds of canines? Everard could not keep track of all the scents assaulting him: dog, fox, wolf, coyote, jackal...they painted a picture, a confused history of seemingly endless ejaculations. When one canine's earthy odor hit Everard's nose, he could not so much as process it before another more musky scent took its place.

It was enough to make the wolf paralyzed with sensory overload, so much so that he didn't even notice the straps that the assistants had fastened around his back and legs, preventing him from moving.

"Well, you still wanna stop?" Otis asked.

"Uh..." Everard caught a whiff of a fox that was particularly spicy. A vision of a red fox, slim and with a long bushy tail wagging back and forth while fucking the mount, came into Everard's head. It was enough to make his cock twitch.

Everard's tongue slipped out of his mouth as he tasted the scents, ensnared by the flavors and aromas that were put before him like a gourmet meal. He felt like a feral fox in mating season, unable to control his desires beyond finding a mate and humping them. His thighs ground together as he imagined tracking down the fox by scent and having wild love together.

"Guess he wants to continue," Otis snapped his fingers. "Jeff, hit it!"

The two nozzles hissed as a fine mist sprayed out into Everard's face. His nose twitched, catching the fiery musk of wolf pheromones in the air. His cock burned with even more desire now, his heart yearning for the feeling of mounting anything beneath him, whether it be the fox he fantasized about earlier or anything else. There was nothing else in the world but him and the desire to mate.

Blinking, Everard regained a bit of control and realized just how degrading his situation was. He was being treated like an animal, a horny stud hound.

Before Everard could raise his voice, two thick fingers grasped him by the cock and stroked his skin gently.

"That's a good boy," Otis cooed, "come on, mount that bitch..."

Whining sharply, Everard was helpless to resist as the horse slowly forced his cock to grow. Even though the spade looked far larger than normal, Everard thought it couldn't possibly fit, though the horny side of his brain was praying that it would.

"Modified the mount just fer you, boy," Otis leaned forward and whispered in Everard's eye while still guiding his cock. Precum began to bubble out like a geyser just before it erupts, lubricating his tip well. "Come on now..."

Gasping, Everard felt his cock slide into a slick but tight hole. The cushioning was firm and pressed against his cock, squeezing it like a vice. His cock still continued to grow and spurt precum which slid through the soft tunnel and out from the other end of the mount, collecting at the bottom where another bucket laid just to the side.

Something about the combination of being in such a dominant position and the countless odors attached to the mount made Everard's brain shut off. He felt like a powerful alpha wolf fucking every single canine that had been strapped there. He opened his mouth and even let a little howl loose.

Despite being bound by both the straps and his feral desires, Everard still had enough awareness to feel something approaching his exposed ass. Lowering his tail, he blocked Otis's fingers from prodding his butt.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Everard growled deeply, suddenly snapping back to reality. He was not an alpha wolf from some smutty fantasy story, he was in a barn and being milked like a prize stud.

"Prostate," Otis said simply. "If we're gonna make ya cum hard, we gotta stimulate it."

"Fuck off!" Everard growled, revealing his fangs once more. A growing, feral rage burned in Everard's chest once more and he could feel incoherent rumbles and barks just waiting to unleash themselves at the horse.

"Come on, boy..."

There was a sharp tingle at the base of Everard's tail as Otis gently scratched at it, followed by a jolt shooting up his spine with every bit of stimulation. His assertiveness faded and his features softened, no longer viewing him as the top dog in the room but just a helpless pack bitch.

Of course he knows about the violet gland...damn him...

"Attaboy..." Otis grinned as Everard's tail slowly lifted against the wolf's volition, exposing his anus once again to the horse and his canine assistants.

Otis wasted no time and shot a well-lubed finger into the wolf's rear. Everard yelped sharply, forcing the other canines in the room to cover their ears in pain while Otis' finger went in and out, the brown fur on his hand growing slick and matted with lube.

Shortly after, a warm glow grew inside Everard's rear and the wolf gasped, contorting his arms and legs while a pleasure greater than anything before that day attacked him.

"Prostate bigger than normal," Otis muttered, pressing his finger against it and forcing Everard into paralytic ecstasy once more.

"Ahhh!" Everard finally managed to utter out before his skin when suddenly cold. "Wait, isn't that a sign of cancer?"

"It's a sign of a lot of things, but when you've got a johnson as thick as redwood, it's probably just another curse symptom."

Everard sighed, "Phew, that's a relief..."

Peering back, the wolf caught a glimpse of the brown horse and realized once more just what exactly was going on.

"Get your finger out of ther-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Otis silenced the wolf by pushing down on his prostate once more, freezing the wolf yet again. Despite Everard's objections, the endless current of pre-cum spilling out of the mount betrayed that he was enjoying this.

"There we go, quiet down now, boy," Otis whispered, pinching his other hand around Everard's thick mast.

As much as the wolf tried to deny it, the reality of the pent-up arousal was obvious to all watching. The base of Everard's cock began to knot up once more and Otis carefully clenched the shaft just above it to prevent it from tying into the mount, an exceptionally difficult task even with how slick the cock was with precum at this point.

"Yer gonna cum when I say you're good and ready..."

Otis jerked his finger deep inside Everard's rear, once again pressing his button.

"...And no sooner than that."

Everard gasped as Otis suddenly removed his finger. The wolf yelped as Otis clamped his teeth around Everard's tail, preventing him from blocking his hole.

"Let's get you a bit more lubed up," Otis spoke out of the corner of his mouth while still biting down on Everard's tail.

The horse reached out to the side with his free hand and the coyote came into view, squirting a fresh glob of clear lubricant onto Otis' finger before carefully rubbing it all around the digit.

"Nice and slick..."

Otis shoved his well-greased finger back into Everard's rear, forcing the wolf to once again twitch uncontrollably and release a series of guttural moans. Otis released the wolf's tail from his mouth and Everard found himself wagging it the moment it was free before forcing himself to stop.

Everard was unconsciously thrusting, trying to force his knot into the hole even though it was far too big, and Otis tightened his grip on the wolf's monstrous cock.

The wolf's prostate began to burn and its fire spread to the rest of his loins until his entire lower body was screaming with joy.

"Guess the artificial pheromones in the lube were a success," Otis guffawed at Jeff. "Bet ya can't wait for me to try that on ya?"

Having abandoned all dignity, Everard was now whining and barking like a feral wolf in rutting season. His tongue lolled out along with globs of drool, nothing more than just a beast that wanted to fuck and didn't give a damn for whoever that might be.

But he couldn't, not while the straps and the horse behind him held him back.

Waves of precum oozed from the mount as lust built up in Everard's heart and brain. All he could think about was breaking free and spilling his seed into the cushioned bitch he was tied to. To unleash the tidal wave of cum that was welling up inside his balls. His tongue itched, his fur was up on ends, and his cock craved to dominate.

Rearing up his head, Everard let loose a deep howl. The boards of the barn shook and even Otis found himself pausing as the sheer wildness of the formerly sophisticated wolf. Jeff and the coyote both were frozen as well, shocked despite their familiarity with wolven ways.

"Well, that was somethin' else..." Otis muttered with a laugh. "Guess we gotta tame ya yet, bo-"

SNAP.

One of the leather straps whipped to the side, catching Otis in the leg. The horse cursed, yanking his finger out of the wolf's butt while still holding onto his cock.

"Sunnava bitch!" Otis rubbed his shin. "Jeff, you told me that damn thing'd hold and-"

Otis blinked at Everard's legs. The horse hadn't been paying much attention before but they seemed different from before. Earlier, Otis could have sworn they were wiry, the kind of legs a wolf who played rich folk sports at a private club would get if they were in decent shape, but now his legs were thick and muscular. Not very well-crafted muscles like a bodybuilder either, but thick and monstrous.

"Just like his cock..." Otis muttered, brown eyes growing wide.

Everard howled again, a rumbling echo shaking within his chest. Once again, the barn shook, this time powerful enough that it felt like the whole thing would collapse. The tray of instruments clattered to the ground, spilling the fine metal tools across the barn floor with a series of clatters. Both of the assistants tucked their tails between their legs and slowly backed away.

"The curse is spreading! Get out of h-" Otis caught a kick in the gut from Everard's freed leg, launching the horse backwards onto the straw floor, gasping for air. The two assistants screamed and fled to the back of the barn, shutting one of the stalls loudly behind them.

Letting loose a feral scream, Everard's back contorted, popping two more belts free. One of the belt buckles flew upwards, shattering the hanging lamp and casting the barn in shade.

Pain shot through Everard's muscles just as evenly as pleasure. What little remnants of his mind that remained could comprehend not much more than those and his other lustful desires.

The sound of bone and muscle twisting groaned throughout the barn as Everard's legs distorted into a more monstrous form. His shoes tore away as curved black claws shot out from his toes and sank into the ground.

Soon, the curse spread upward, Everard's torso growing in size to match his powerful legs. His jacket and shirt practically disintegrated, with only a few strands of fabric remaining on his new form. The last restraint was ripped away by the wolf and thrown across the room, crashing through a window, before he slashed at the remnants of his clothes with his jagged claws jutting out of his massive paws.

"Come here boy..." Otis whispered as he slowly backed towards the wall, keeping his eyes on the wolf.

Everard turned his head around and bared his fangs, arching his back on all fours. His teeth were jagged and long, drool trailing from them. The wolf's cock was still on full display, dripping with precum onto the floor, though he no longer had any shame about it.

With one hand, Otis reached for the treat jar and with the other, he grabbed an animal control pole from the wall.

"You hungry, boy?" Otis tossed one of the bone-shaped biscuits onto the floor and gripped the pole with both hands, ready to snare the wolf's head between the wire loop on the end of it.

Everard's massive nose wrinkled as he snuffled at the air, huffing loudly.

"That's it...nice tasty treat here..." Otis motioned down at the floor with his snout, keeping his eye on the wolf. "Go on, come get it!"

Standing up on all twos, Everard let loose a howl. Once again, the barn shook, but this time it was powerful enough for Otis to feel it deep within his bones.

"Shit..."

Everard suddenly jolted and Otis raised the pole, ready to defend himself, but also shut his eyes. To his surprise, he was not immediately torn from limb to limb, and opened his eyes just in time to see the wolf smash the front door of the barn open and escape into the yard.

"Aw shit," Otis muttered, quickly creeping up to the open door and peering out from the wall. The air was silent and the only trace left of Everard were the tracks and claw-marks left in the dirt leading to the house. A gust of wind blew the rear door shut and then it squeaked back open, its hinges half-broken.

"We've got a lotta work to do..."

"...Everyone got that down? Al?" Otis looked over at the brown coyote, who meekly nodded and wagged his tail. "Good."

Otis hadn't kept his eyes off the house since Everard transformed and bolted for the home. Occasionally, a silhouette would pass by one of the windows along with a crash or a series of thumps, no doubt from the wolf asserting his dominance over random pieces of furniture Otis owned.

Gonna take forever to get the smell of wolf outta my home, Otis grumbled in his head, though he also partly wondered if he should keep it that way. The barn always smelled good, thanks to the efforts of his canine assistants, why not the house as well?

But this was not the time to ponder home improvement, there was a cursed wolf on the loose and if he managed to escape into the countryside it would attract very unwanted attention to Otis' operations. Folks would start talking about just what goes on in old Otis' barn, what's he doing with those canines, and how exactly does he make his money?

And worst of all, is he even allowed to practice medicine?

No, they had to capture the wolf and get his curse under control before he escapes or, god-forbid, assaults someone. That would mean lawsuits and Jeff hadn't kept his law license active since he joined Otis' business, he was very much out of practice.

"Alright," Otis took a flask from his coat pocket and pressed it to his lips. He swallowed a small gulp of whisky that burned like gasoline and tasted just like it before tucking the flask away and nudging Jeff in the shoulder, "you ready?

"Yes, sir!" the white wolf wagged his tail.

Otis slapped Jeff lightly on the butt and grinned, "I'll bet you are."

Turning back to Al, Otis nodded at the coyote, who was filling a liquid syringe with cum from the bucket, "I'm counting on you."

Silently, Otis and Jeff left the barn, keeping the door wide open. There was a lot to be done today and the very first goal they had was to get the wolf back in the barn where he could be contained.

Handcuffs and chains jangled from within Otis and Jeff's coat pockets, along with other tools that would be needed. Both of them took out fat squeeze-tubes filled with stimulating lubrication, keeping them at the ready as they approached the door.

The windows were still and the house, silent. Everard must have smelled them coming and gone into hiding.

This changed nothing though. Jeff broke away from Otis, weaving around the side of the house to head to the front door, just as planned. Otis took two careful steps up the stairs and onto the porch, sliding up to the wall by the rattling back door, and flicked his ears, listening for Jeff's footsteps to halt on the other side of the house.

Otis' nostrils flared and he had to suppress a gag. The rancid musk between the wolf's legs was wafting out of the doorway. Otis immediately changed his mind about keeping the wolf's scent in the house.

There was a muffled thud on the other side of the house, Jeff hopping over the broken staircase, Otis figured; followed by two more quiet steps. Jeff was in place.

Slowly pulled the door aside, Otis crept into the kitchen. The floor was covered in broken plates, which Otis found impossible not to crush beneath his hooves.

What a goddamn mess...

The wolf's smell was overwhelming, it had been left on just about every corner, counter, and chair; all were slick with precum. It was impossible for Otis to track down the wolf by smell, at this point he might as well be the entire house.

Sliding into the living room, Otis reunited with Jeff. Otis's couch had a set of claw marks torn into it with white fluff strewn about everywhere. The TV had been turned on and by sheer coincidence was showing a nature documentary about feral wolves with the sound muted.

Probably somethin' like...wolves are stealthy, intelligent hunters and shit like that...don't I know it. Where is that little prick hidin'?

Jeff's ear's suddenly perked up and before Otis could ask, he heard it as well.

Thump-thump-thump-thump...

From upstairs, echoing along the ceiling of the living room.

Goddammit, not on the fuckin' bed!

Otis led the way, stepping on the stairs as softly as he could with his hooves while he unscrewed the cap on the tube and pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his coat. Jeff trailed behind him, lubricating his right paw with the tube.

The thumping grew louder as Otis reached the second floor. The master bedroom's door was wide open and the monstrous wolf was standing just past it, grinding his cock against the metal bedpost.

Carefully, Otis crept closer. The wolf was so distracted he did not notice the subtle clop of Otis' hooves, nor what felt like a deafening creak to Otis' ears. The dumb beast was too preoccupied with asserting an imagined threat to his dominance.

Otis held his breath. He was close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of the wolf and positioned himself so that his rapidly wagging tail would not brush up against his legs. Otis reached forward with the handcuffs ever-so slowly until he suddenly lunged forward, snapping the loop around the narrow bit connecting the wolf's wrist and paw.

Everard froze and jerked his muzzle around but Otis had clicked the other end of the handcuffs in place around the bedpost and leaped back just as the wolf's jaws snapped in front of his long muzzle.

"Now, Jeff!"

The white wolf practically dove into the room, his paws glistening with the arousing lubricant and slapped Everard's massive balls. Everard froze, tongue suddenly lolling out of his mouth and all aggression clearing away like he was suddenly a submissive pet in the stables.

Jeff continued to smear the goo around the balls of the feral wolf until it was practically covered in the viscous fluid. Jeff gagged as the rancid scent of Everard's nether regions hit his nose. The musk matted the fur and mixed in with the lubricant, dripping onto the ground like foul, clouded sludge. Pre-cum began to bubble up on the tip of Everard's cock like saliva.

"Got ya now!" Otis smiled as he smeared the contents of his own tube against his hands.

Everard's eyes went wide and he snapped out of his trance, suddenly jerking against the handcuffs and howling in fear. Otis grabbed Everard's massive cock and began smearing it with the lubricant from knot to tip.

The feral wolf's bestial mind could not decide whether he was angry or aroused. One moment he would be leaning into Otis' hands, grinding against him, and the next he'd be jerking on the cuffs and trying to escape. Perhaps in his own cursed brain, the wolf thought humping Otis' hands was a form of dominance expression and he grew fearful when the horse did not submit.

Jeff was still at it as well, squeezing the ballsack like a stress ball. He even leaned in and prodded his black nose against Everard's balls, holding his breath as he ran his tongue against the matted fur and wrinkled skin revealed beneath the jungle. Drool, lubricant, and precum mixed together freely, dripping out of the sides of his muzzle.

"Good boy," Otis cooed. "Let's get some more of that curse outta ya."

Everard's cock glistened and the thick veins running along it shuddered. Precum shot out of it like a water cannon, covering the floorboards with the wolf's noxious musk.

Stupid wolf got himself hot and bothered...won't take long now...

Otis heard a snap of metal and immediately regretted jinxing himself.

With a swing of his now-free arm, Everard knocked Otis to the side and growled, tearing out of the bedroom and dashing towards the stairs. In his haste, however, the wolf slipped on the staircase and rolled down, crashing into the floor below.

"After him!" Otis cried, sprinting to the stairs with Jeff trailing behind.

Everard was no longer in sight, but Otis slid down the bannister and landed in the dented floorboards where the wolf had no doubt landed.

Otis looked around carefully as Jeff descended the staircase. Everard couldn't be far, the two doors leading outside hadn't been slammed open. There were only a few places to hide.

Removing another pair of handcuffs from his coat, Otis slowly crept towards the shredded couch. The cuff wouldn't last forever, but it'd buy them some more time, enough hopefully to get the wolf off.

Slowly, Otis leaned over the back of the couch, expecting to find Everard hiding there but much to his surprise, found nothing but floorboards.

A loud crash exploded behind Otis and before the horse could turn around, a heavy weight smashed into him, sending him rolling over the back of the couch and slamming into the floor.

"Damn!" Otis shouted in pain.

A large muzzle snapped down at Otis and the horse quickly thrust the cuffs up in both hands, catching the chain inside the maw and pushing it back.

Everard had his massive paws pinned on the horse's chest, drool was dripping from his fangs and his cock was grinding up against Otis's coat. Otis wasn't sure which smelt worse, the wolf's breath or the smell of his cock.

"If I have to get ya off this way, I will," Otis threatened as the wolf began to hump slowly. In reality though, this was far too dangerous to continue, as Everard was also trying to chew away at the handcuffs and there was no doubt he would succeed eventually.

The tip of Everard's cock pressed up against Otis's mouth, smearing a glob of pre across the horse's lips that he could not wipe away. Another shot came out, mixed with some cloudy-white precum that caught Otis just below the eye.

Not much point in containing the curse if I get myself killed!

The metal on the chain began to buckle and Otis clenched his fist, ready to fight his way out. Everard raised his muzzle high and howled victoriously.

A sharp yelp hurt Otis' ears, followed by the sound of rushing water and the smell of wet fur. There was no questioning whose fur either, for it mixed with the far-too familiar smell of Everard's cursed musk, which made Otis's stomach churn despite the peril he was in. A few jets of water shot past Everard's back, landing on the floor.

Eventually, Everard turned tail and ran. Jeff was standing in the kitchen with the faucet hose in his paw, spraying Everard with expert marksmanship as he fled back upstairs soaking wet.

"Good work, boy!" Otis smiled at Jeff as he picked himself back up, grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing away at the fluids Everard had left on his face and mouth.

"What can I say, sir? Canines hate baths."

The momentary victory in the plan was shattered, quite literally if the sounds of broken glass on the second floor were any indication, followed by a heavy thump in the backyard.

"No rest for the wicked," Otis shook his head before charging through the kitchen and slamming the door open, knocking it off its hinges and onto the porch floor.

Glass crunched beneath Otis' hooves as he stormed down onto the lawn, following a trail of scratched dirt and uprooted shrubs leading into the patch of trees on the perimeter of the property. He was trying to make a break for it.

Right where I want 'em...

Otis' keen ears caught the sound of a branch crunching just beyond the start of the trees followed by a whip cracking through the air. A series of sad whines and barks echoed out, making Otis grin.

"We got him!" Otis called back to Jeff, who was trailing behind him.

Bursting into the woods, it didn't take long for the two to find Everard. The cursed wolf was hanging from a rope snare by his ankle from a cedar tree. At first glance, the wolf might have resigned himself to his fate of being stuck upside-down with his cock dribbling fluids across his face and onto the ground; but the moment the wolf caught side of Otis he jolted his back upwards and grabbed the length of rope with his claws before putting it in his maw and chewing.

"Someone's been doing yoga," Jeff snarked.

"Get in position," Otis grunted as he pulled a collar and leash from his pocket. "Heeeeeere boy!"

Otis and Jeff fanned out, flanking Everard's potential escape routes into the countryside. The rear door of the barn was just past the trees, beckoning them in.

Everard continued chewing with bits of rope and drools flecking onto the ground. Whatever the beast was thinking, there was no doubt he was aware that the folks below had a plan.

The last bit of rope tore away and Everard crashed onto the ground below. Without missing a beat, the wolf got up on all fours and snarled at the other two with his hackles raised up like thorns.

Otis and Jeff calmly stepped forward, showing no fear.

"C'mon little doggy," Otis reached forward with the collar. "Let's go for a walk."

Jeff rubbed his paws together, slick with the lubrication, and fanned out wider.

Everard took a step back, sensing that he was about to be cornered. He darted his muzzle from Otis to Jeff and back again, sniffing and growling, though occasionally a whimper would escape the fierce wolf's throat.

"Nice and slow..." Otis whispered to Jeff as they continued to press forward, pushing Everard back further, "...don't spook the little doggy."

A branch cracked under Otis' hoof and Everard suddenly bolted forward. Otis cursed, jumping to the side and trying to loop the collar around Everard's muzzle, but the wolf tore the leather away with one fierce bite.

"Shit!" Otis stomped as the wolf began galloping away on all fours. "Jeff, Plan B!"

Jeff tossed Otis a vial labeled, "Wolf Pheromones," and Otis immediately took the top off and poured the clear liquid within across his crotch. This was not a good plan, not in the slightest, and Otis knew it. But at the same time he couldn't count on another snare catching the wolf and his patience was wearing thin.

"Hey boy!" Otis called out and began fanning the air around his crotch towards the woods. "Get a whiff of this!"

Everard immediately froze, nose poking up in the air as he sniffed and slowly turned around. The moment his nose locked on Otis, the wolf's tongue rolled out of his mouth and his thick log of a cock spurted out a glob of precum.

The cursed wolf stood up on two legs, showing off his powerful muscles, and howled into the air.

Otis cupped his palms around his mouth, raised his face and howled as best as a stallion could do. He then knelt over, pointing his rear at the wolf and lifting his tail.

Jeff was trying to cover up his laughter and failing. Otis frowned, pondering how he'd give the white wolf a punishment later, when suddenly Everard leaped forward.

Making a break for it, Otis ran towards the barn. He could already feel Everard's hot breath on the back of his neck as he spun around the door and entered into the aisle of stalls.

He's too close, it's not gonna work...

Otis suddenly leaped to the left and into a stall, pressing himself up against the wall. Everard loomed in the entrance of the stall, licking his lips. His mate was cornered and there was nowhere for him to run.

Slowly, Everard loped in, sniffing at the air as his cock continued to spurt and quiver.

"Come here, boy..." Otis whispered, sticking his rear out again. "Come here..."

Everard took one step forward and Otis suddenly punched a button on the wall.

A stream of water rained down from a shower-head above the stall, soaking the wolf from head to toe. Metal arms shot out from the walls, one grabbing Everard by the neck and the other scrubbing him with a brush.

With Everard stunned, Otis leaped over one of the arms and past the wolf, pausing at the stall entrance.

Howling, Everard tried to wrench his way free, but the hand with the brush had reached his crotch and was now gingerly running its bristles across his cock. Soap and precum mixed together freely, gathering on the floor before twirling down the metal drain in the center of the stall.

"Sir!" Jeff called out as he slipped behind Otis. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Otis nodded, keeping his eyes on Everard, "g'wan over to Al and get ready. He won't be stuck here for long."

Otis gagged as the smell of wet fur and Everard's potent crotch-funk wafted out the stall. He picked the flask out of his pocket and downed another shot of bourbon, the burn of the alcohol was enough to sanitize his nostrils of the odor.

But only for a brief moment. Everard yelped as the brush coaxed a rope of very cloudy precum out of his cock, splattering against the far wall, and the musky odor returned in spades. The soap wasn't doing anything to cover it up and Otis couldn't risk getting drunk on the job.

Otis took a step back as the wash cycle suddenly stopped and a gust of hot air rushed from the ceiling, blowing the wolf's fur until it was dry and poofed up.

With a quick shake, Everard was back to looking like a fierce werewolf and spun around, nose twitching. The shower had done nothing to quell his desire and Otis quickly gave his crotch one more fan before bolting.

Rumbling growls followed Otis as he ran down the aisle, followed by the sounds of wood splintering and claws running along the ground.

Goddamn, he's fast!

Breathing in, Otis sprinted forward with all his might until reaching the entryway to the atrium at the front of the barn and spun around.

Everard was barrelling towards him like a runaway freight train covered in fur. A mindless beast with no thoughts, only animalistic desire rushing through him, and he was gaining on Otis.

But the horse would not move.

"Come an' get me!" Otis gloated, standing firmly.

Just before Everard bent his legs and leaped forward towards Otis, jaws open wide with drops of saliva flicking everywhere, the horse suddenly screamed.

"NOW!"

A sharp beep rang out and a trapdoor in the ceiling suddenly flapped open, dropping a chain harness suspended from a winch up in the attic. Everard's eyes went wide, only noticing he was caught in a trap when it was too late.

The wolf slid through the opening of the harness like it was covered in butter, but the chains suddenly tightened around his torso and hips when he was partway through, catching him in the middle of the air.

Growling, Everard tried to break free but he could do nothing more than rock the harness he was suspended from back and forth while helplessly snapping at air with his jaws.

Otis reached forward, snatching Everard by the muzzle and holding his jaws shut. The wolf growled intensely as the horse reached forward and tapped him on the nose.

"Not so fierce now, are ya?"

Everard bared his fangs at the side of his muzzle but could do nothing more than growl as the horse booped him and patted him like he was a domesticated dog.

"Al, ya got the stuff?" Otis peered back into the atrium. Al and Jeff were standing by a table with a series of beakers and test-tubes. A bunsen burner was heating up a beaker filled with milky-white cum which had plastic tubes leading to two other drip-flasks, one with a clear ooze in it and one with fine bits of shimmering metal suspended in water.

"Almost there, sir!" the coyote replied with a nod.

"Good work," Otis grinned at Everard, who snorted and growled. "Now then, let's get ya sorted out."

Jeff crept over, carrying a large metal cone in his arms. Otis stepped to the side, still clamping his hand around Everard's muzzle, allowing Jeff to stand in front of him with the open narrow end of the cone pointed at the bound wolf's snout.

Everard began to thrash, rocking the harness from side-to-side. The walls of the barn began to shake, dust flaking down from the rafters.

"Careful, careful..." Otis whispered.

The narrow opening of the cone slipped over Everard's nose and chin. Otis quickly released his grip on Everard's muzzle and wrapped his arm around the wolf's neck, winding him as Jeff quickly pushed the cone further. There was a bit of a speed bump as the cone was caught on Everard's ears, but Jeff gave it one more push and it slipped past, finally resting on the wolf's neck just above Otis' arm.

"Sir!" Jeff passed Otis a thin chain, which the stallion immediately weaved along the rivets running around the cone's rim.

With one sharp yank and a yelp from Everard, Otis tightened the cone's embrace and fastened the ends of the chain into a lock that was attached to it. For one brief moment, the cursed wolf was calm, having begrudgingly accepted his fate much like a dog that had been muzzled at a vet.

That momentary bit of serenity was broken by Otis pressing a small button on the rim of the cone and it began to hum slightly. Everard darted his muzzle around, his black nose wiggling as he sniffed and his ears flicking from front to back, trying to figure out what was coming next.

A fine mist suddenly shot out from the inside of the wider rim, spraying the wolf right in the face as he took a deep sniff. At that moment, Everard's cursed brain clearly figured out the true extent of this trap and began to snap his jaws once more, spitting out strings of saliva across the inside of the cone. However, the pheromones continued to assault his nose and while his brain wanted to free himself from the trap, there was a far larger organ on his body that had different plans.

Everard's cock was shuddering violently, pre-cum dripping onto the floor in great, big globs. His hips thrust forward, almost autonomously, with no train of thought except finding a hole to fuck.

"Yer mine now, pup," Otis pressed the tip of his finger against the tapered end of Everard's massive cock.

Whining, Everard's hips thrust even harder, the tip of his cock bumping up against Otis' hand. The horse's hand was slick and dripping with precum, which caused him to laugh.

"God, you stink," Otis sneered and grabbed the shaft of Everard's cock, rubbing the precum off on it, not that it needed any more lubrication at this point. "But I'm gettin' kinda used to it."

Everard continued to thrust, using Otis' grip as a makeshift hole. Panting and barking, the wolf let his tongue loll out against the inside of the cone, once again forgetting the dire situation he was in. He was content to fuck his bitch and fill them full of seed.

A discharge of very cloudy precum splattered against Otis' palm and Everard once again snapped back to reality and flexed against the chains, trying to break them. His thighs still continued to act against his will, gladly turning Otis' hand into a soggy, smelly mess of sweat and precum.

"Come on," Otis leaned forward and nipped Everard on the back of the neck, just below the cone's rim and gave his best impression of a growl. The stallion might not have had fangs and sure as hell didn't have the vocal cords to growl like a wolf, but it must have been good enough for Everard, for the wolf whined and clenched his legs together, his cock letting loose another strand of precum. The wolf was a good little bitch underneath all the bluster, but Otis knew that the rage would return shortly and wasn't stupid enough to let his guard down.

"Al!" Otis barked. "Almost there!?"

"Just a little bit longer, sir!" the coyote called back, carefully lifting up the beaker with a pair of tongs. Al tilted his head, staring up at the milky-white cum in the beaker before putting it back on the bunsen burner's flame. "We're almost there!"

As if on cue, Everard's knot began to swell quite rapidly, its thick veins coiling around the sphere growing at the base of his shaft. Panicked howls rang out from inside the cone and Everard's hips suddenly shot forward, the knot slapping against Otis's hands, desperately trying to force its way past his grip and tie him down like a bitch in heat.

"Sorry, boy, gonna have to tease ya for a bit longer," Otis cooed, wiping a glob of precum on his free hand and reaching into the cone, bopping the wolf on his nose before darting back and dodging the wolf's fangs by mere inches. Laughing, the horse gave the wolf one more tap on the nose and escaped unharmed before deciding he was tempting fate a little too much.

Everard growled as precum dripped down his nose across his lips, forced to breathe in the rancid smell of his crotch-musk along with the pheromones that continued to assault his nose.

Otis released his grip and slowly squeezed, just enough to keep Everard aroused enough to remain relatively sedate and stop him from thrashing. However, the wolf suddenly jerked, rattling the chains violently and nearly knocking Otis back. Otis grabbed Everard by the scruff and continued to tighten his grip on his cock.

"Bad dog!" Otis suddenly slapped the wolf on the butt and a spurt of precum shot out onto the floor.

A tiny metallic crunch caught Otis' sharp ears and he quickly looked over to Everard's chest. One of the chains making up the harness had crumpled, though it was still attached to the rest of the link.

"Shiiit," Otis groaned and peered back at Al. "Al, come on! We're gonna need ya to hurry up!"

"It's ready!" the coyote called back.

"Good timin'! Jeff, now!"

The frenzied activity in the barn must have set off an alarm in Everard's head, for the wolf started to thrash more violently than ever. Otis used all of his strength to keep his grip on the wolf's cock and his scruff, but Otis could not keep his eye off of the chain. Another link snapped open around Everard's arm and was hanging onto the chain by half of the remaining metal; had Everard been aware of it, he could have broken free in a mere moment.

Jeff stuck a metal baster into the beaker, sucking up the compound that was as milky-white as his own fur, before rushing over towards the trapped Everard. A trail of cum leaked out of the tip of the baster behind him, must like Everard's own cock.

Snapping his jaws helplessly, Everard could not stop Jeff from swerving around him and taking his place just behind his rear. Jeff grabbed Everard's tail, lifting it up and exposing his rear to the open air.

"Shit," Jeff muttered. "Sir, I'm out of lube!"

"Ya serious?" Otis rolled his eyes and placed the palm of his hand in front of Everard's cock. Squeezing the shaft, he shot out a glob of precum and then reached over, offering it to Jeff.

Wrinkling his snout, Jeff cautiously accepted the natural lubricant, covering his paws in it before wiping it around the rim of Everard's butt before sticking his finger inside.

Everard yelped, though his hips continued to betray him and he thrusted as deep as he could into Otis' grip. This time though, Otis suddenly snatched Everard's knot within his palm, squeezing it as hard as he could and paralyzing the wolf into gasping, panting arousal.

"Let's untie this knot!"

Jeff stuck the tip of the baster inside Everard's ass but held off on shooting his load inside, looking over at Otis while standing at a careful distance from Everard's feet with their long, black claws.

Otis rolled Everard's knot in his grip like it was putty. One more link snapped, this time on Everard's right leg and it was enough to break the chain. However, all Everard did was stretch his leg, shaking with uncontrolled arousal from the stimulation on his knot. The wolf didn't even know his leg was free.

Otis had played this ballgame numerous times and he knew the rules. He could feel the shuddering of Everard's knot, how it began to quake more and more, faster and with more intensity, until it began to reach a very familiar zenith, one that Otis had achieved numerous times with countless canines.

"NOW!" Otis shouted.

Jeff squeezed the baster and Everard snapped his mouth open, tongue sticking out helplessly as hot fluid filled his ass. The cure was in place, timed exactly with what Otis had planned.

A jet of cum shot out and Otis guided the titanic cock slowly, downward at first and then making it point backwards to simulate a copial tie. Cum flew out the whole time, splattering the floor and then catching Jeff in the crotch.

Otis kept on squeezing, keeping the knot tight within his grasp, even after it continued to swell and shake. Everard's tail wagged behind him, slapping Jeff across the snout. The once fierce wolf having been tamed, brought to submission by the sheer force of erotic assault.

With each rope of seed escaping the tip of his cock, every moan and gasp of pleasure, Everard's cursed features began to slowly soften. The rage and insanity in his eyes began to vanish and for the first time since the curse was activated, a semblance of awareness and intelligence returned to them.

Merely a semblance, mind you, for Everard was still very much enslaved by the squeezes and strokes Otis was inflicting upon him along with the cure. Moaning, the wolf continued to grind his knot against Otis' hand even as the cock began to slowly shrink.

The floor was a veritable swamp of semen and at the rate things were going it was going to turn into a lake. Never in all of Otis' life had the barn smelled as bad as it did not, reeking of that rancid musk inflicted upon Everard and the raw smell of sex.

"Good boy, come on, come on!"

Another stream of cum shot out, longer than any prior, and Eveard screamed with ecstasy, rearing his head up and proclaiming his joy.

"OH GOD YES!" Everard shouted and when his head lowered, Otis saw that his fangs had shrunk back into his jowls and he was looking significantly more sentient now.

"Doing good there, boy?" Otis laughed.

"YES! YES!" Everard screamed. Though the wolf's senses had returned, his grace had not. His tongue was still flailing around helplessly while drool dripped out of his maw freely.

As a reward, Otis gave the wolf a very strong squeeze and tug on his knot. Everard seized up with arousal, arching his back as best as he could in the harness until the warped link on the chain around his back broke free. The wolf was hanging on by a thread, but thankfully the threat was almost gone.

By now, Everard's cock was almost small enough for Jeff or Al to suck. Otis figured they were getting close to the end and continued pumping the wolf, draining the curse out of him and spurting more hot milk onto the ground. With each ejaculation, the wolf's cock grew smaller and smaller...

The harness suddenly snapped. Otis released his grip, stepping back, and Everard rolled around in mid-air, landing on his back in the lake of cum. With one final gasp, Everard's cock shot two geysers of cum into the air, and the wolf's head collapsed onto its side and he closed his eyes.

Jeff quickly grabbed a pile of hay and lifted Everard's head, placing it upon the hay so that he would not drown in the semen. Al stepped up beside Otis, his arms crossed.

"You think that's it?"

"Hold up a sec."

Otis knelt down. Everard's cock was still thick and knotted, though it was a normal size for a wolf at this point. Otis grabbed his knot between his hand and slowly clenched, feeling the knot squeeze within his grip like a rubber ball. There was no reaction from the wolf, not until Otis tugged the knot upward and another shot of cum flew into the air, arced to the right and splattered on the ground, joining the rest of the lake.

"That's it now," Otis stood up and wiped his hands together. "Get 'im cleaned up."

Everard's eyes slowly fluttered open. At first he wasn't aware where he was or what had happened, but the events of the afternoon had slowly come back to him along with all of the shame, the great shame, even if some of it had been pleasurable.

Sitting up with a start, Everard saw the kilt once more wrapped around his waist and flipped it up. Sighing, Everard saw nothing more than a normal-sized sheath covered in grayish-white fur.

"Ah, yer up!" Otis came out of the kitchen holding a mug of coffee. Thick beads of sweat were pouring down between the horse's fur. "Looks like we got ya cured, so..."

Everard's face burned, "With great indignity! Good lord, what the hell is wrong with you!?"

"Yeah, yeah, but I got it done, didn't I?" Otis grabbed a piece of paper from the kitchen counter and clomped over, passed it to Everard. "Your bill."

The wolf's eyes went wide with shock, "This is an outrageous sum! We never agreed to this!"

"What we agreed to was an estimate and that was before..."

Otis pointed to the walls and floors. Only then did Everard notice all of the claw and bite marks on just about every inch of the living room, let along the sofa that Everard was lying on and all the loose fluff sticking out of shredded fabric.

Frowning, Everard retrieved his checkbook, "You might have a point."

"Mmhmm."

With a scratch of his pen, Everard ripped the check out of the book and passed it to Otis.

"Ya know," Otis said as he peered over the check. "Lookin' for a part-time job?"

"With how much I just paid you, do you think I need a part-time job?"

"Part-time hobby then. Yer kinda cute, fer a brat," Otis grinned wildly. "Ya wanna join my crew? Got plenty of room in the barn."

"Nope!" Everard suddenly jolted to his feet and pulled his cellphone out from his pocket. The wolf was exhausted and every joint of his body hurt, but he wanted to get the hell out of there. "Thank you very much, but I'm leaving now!"

Rushing out, Everard turned on the phone only to find dozens of texts from Eric asking if everything was okay. Upon exiting, Everard found his driver's car sitting in the driveway, its headlights piercing through the dark of night.

"Ya'll have a good evenin' now!" Otis laughed from the porch.

Huffing, Everard got back into the car and crossed his arms with a pout.

"Sir, are you okay?" Eric turned around. The white fox looked positively wracked with worry.

"Yes, quite," Everard swallowed. "Just drive, let's go!"

Flinching, Eric looked away from his employer and turned on the car silently. The car slowly began to crawl away from the horse's home, leaving it behind in the dust as another distant memory.

"I'm sorry," Everard cleared his throat. "It was a long day, Eric, you didn't deserve that. Are you hungry? Dinners on me."

"Absolutely, sir!"

Sighing, Everard closed his eyes. He was not exactly hungry, but he wanted to do anything, spend time with anyone else, just to help put the events of today behind him. To forget that the curse had ever happened and he had never subjected himself to such humiliation.

Smiling, Otis took a sip from his coffee mug and went back inside.

Placing the mug on an end-table, he once again held up the check Everard had written and read the amount. It was hard to believe it was real and had it not been someone with a reputation and known wealth as Everard, Otis would have thought the check was bound to bounce.

The damages had been bad, sure, but Otis made sure to inflate things just a bit. Carry the one a few times extra in the calculation and such things. Perhaps he got a little greedy and inserted the cost of a swimming pool in the sections marked as foundation repair. With how humiliated the wolf was, there wasn't a chance he would send the receipt to his accountant for a closer examination.

And this wasn't even counting the other profits he stood to gain from this little event.

Otis went out the back doorway, stepping over the broken door laying flat on the porch, and heading down towards the barn. The loud whirr of a hydrovac rumbled away within, the walls of the barn insufficient to muffle it.

Pushing the doors open, Otis fluttered the check above his head.

"We're rich, boys! Rich!"

Al was busy running a hydrovac across the lake of cum on the floor while Jeff stood placed cum-soaked hay in a sieve over a tall pot, collecting every bit of semen that could be drained out of it.

"Shiiit, bled that rich wolf dry in more ways than one..." Otis tapped the side of the pot with his hoof, "...and lycanthropic cum? Figure we could have five more of you two by the end of the year once we get in touch with Mr. Falcone."

"You think he'll buy it, sir?" Jeff asked, walking over to a washing station to clean his paws.

"That old gangster'd be smart not to, more trouble than it's worth, but he always was one stalk of hay short of a bale. He'd buy anything that he'd think would get him a leg up on the East Side Fangs."

"Smart move, boss!" Al stopped vacuuming to wag his tail.

"Damn straight," Otis grinned. "Now you g'wan and hurry up! Got a lotta work to do and a lotta fun to have when we're done!"