Cock For Hire
Disclaimer: This story contains subjects of an explicit and implied nature. Please read the tags carefully before reading. I am not responsible for you reading this, especially if you happen to be underaged. All characters are of my own creation, any likeness to characters or individuals living or otherwise is purely coincidence.
Cock for Hire
by Segremores Moon
The breath left John in wisps of white steam. It was cold to be sure, a fact that made the five foot, traditionally tawny-furred lion clench his long coat tighter around his lithe frame more firmly for.
"This is the place..." he said quietly, more to the air than to himself. It had to be where his friend had sent him. The red-light district, full of day-workers, night-walkers, drug-dealers, pimps, and even guns for hire. It was the seediest part of town, and everyone knew it. People avoided the area unless they were looking for something in particular, something that they couldn't find anywhere else. Cops wouldn't go there at all anymore, the city council having declared the entire two mile block of town too expensive to renovate into better shape. It was the city's dirty little secret.
John could sense the eyes on him, some hopefuls looking out the windows of derelict buildings in hopes of a sale of some kind. Some predators looking for a good target to mug, or worse. They stayed well back though. Most knew that anyone interested would know where to go to get what they wanted, and no one looking for trouble would do it in certain parts, not unless they wanted to start some bloody territorial war. Ignoring them, and hoping that he wasn't attracting any undue attention by forcing himself to ignore them, he lifted his leather glove-covered paw and rapped on the white door in front of him.
"412." Was the number on the door of this apartment complex... or what had probably been an apartment complex, if it weren't for the fact that part of the second floor had fallen into the first, leaving only the third and fourth floors completely intact. The nervous lion looked around, glancing at other doors, one of these partially cracked, the eyes of a young hopeful shining out before the door shut silently. The door in front of him opened suddenly, and John found himself staring at a white mouse, a little shorter than he was, but no less perturbed. His whiskers wiggled in a way that belied his dubious glare, and in a nasally voice he asked: "Yeah?"
"Er... uh... I must have the wrong place... or does two dash one' mean anything to you?" John asked, trying desperately to keep the nerves out of his voice. To his further surprise, at hearing this, the mouse's demeanor instantly changed, a smile spreading across his grubby face as he opened the door wider and gestured for the lion to come inside.
"Well why didn't you say so, friend? You're looking for my boss. I'll go see if he's out of the shower yet, have a seat," he said, rather quickly, closing the door after John in such a way that the lion was sure his tail would have been caught in it if he hadn't moved the appendage in time.
The internal of the apartment in no way reflected the outside. As the mouse disappeared through the small doorway separating the large front room from other rooms in the unit, John was able to look around more freely. The carpet felt almost new and quite definitely clean under his bare footpads. A large, maroon-colored sofa sat along one wall, a large television set sat opposite of it, with a quaint little antique coffee table sitting right in between. On the walls were what had to be family photographs, all horses with a few exceptions. Big horses standing next to old horses standing next to younger horses, giving at least a clue to the species of the person his friend had sent him to.
A bright blue armchair, looking soft and inviting though completely incompatible with the relative color of the room, called to John, and he gratefully sat into it with a low sigh.
Almost as soon as the lion had made himself a seat, the mouse padded back out with his same smile. "He'll be with you shortly, he's just getting dried off, is there anything I can get you?" He asked, almost without pause, looking expectantly at the prospective customer.
"Er... no... no thank you," John mumbled in return, still uncertain about this whole business, much less the obvious and eager hospitality that the mouse was willing to provide. At the refusal, the mouse only nodded and disappeared again. John could hear a door quietly closing somewhere down the hallway. Then, he heard another door open, followed by the quiet thuds of someone heavy walking the way the mouse just came. John looked up expectantly, just as a huge, beautiful stallion rounded the corner.
"Hello there, are you the guy our mutual acquaintance was talking about?" The massive, solid-black horse asked, looking the lithe lion over with his big brown eyes. There was just so much of him to take in, from his tall, pointed ears, to his short-cropped black mane, to his bulgingly muscled shoulders, strong chin, enormous pecs naked to the room air... In fact--and John gasped loudly as he looked further down, finally getting to the root of the matter--the muscled stallion was entirely naked, allowing the prospective customer a good look at the goods that he so desired to employ.
Just as impressive as the rest of him, the horsecock dangled perfectly over his orbs, a dark snake of penis larger than any that John had ever seen before. Veins already stood out along the flaccid shaft, seeming to pulse along with what had to be the big horse's heartbeat. Those balls were the size of ostrich eggs at least, stretching the black sac to capacity, halfway down the male's legs. Curiously, the genitals were entirely shaved. None of the dark fur that covered the rest of the stallion to be found on those glistening orbs at all, revealing pitch-black flesh. That's how the strange markings caught John's eye. They looked like tattoos, tattoos of white liquid droplets, a number of them in a row along his right testicle.
"Well, I'm certainly glad that you like what you see, but I didn't think that Kyle was telling me you wanted those kinds of services," the horse whickered, after clearing his throat a little to catch the gawking lion's attention. John looked up into those brown eyes again, as the stallion seated himself carefully on the maroon couch. "He said you were interested in my other services... for someone else." The stallion finished, his jaw setting a little in a businesslike manner.
"Yeah, yeah, that's right," John finally found his voice, then fished around in his inside coat pockets, searching for a small wad of folded papers and finally pulling them out. "Here, a picture of the guy and his personal address," he finally said, offering the small sheaf of papers, completely unable to look away from those enormous genitals that the stallion was doing absolutely nothing to conceal from the prospective client.
"A house-call, eh? Oh, my name's Derrick, by the way. It may not be my real name, but that doesn't matter, I'm Derrick," the big horse responded, taking the offered papers and unfolding them, reading through them carefully, then studying the picture. A german shepherd in a business suit stared back, smiling at whomever was taking the snapshot and wielding a briefcase.
"Oh you big business-types, always looking for a way to get ahead in the world," Derrick said, laughing heartily at that as he casually tossed the papers onto the coffee table and lay himself back against the wall behind the couch. "Ten thousand up front, no negotiations, only cash. No arguments. That's my price for this kind of job, a price that you can depend on, because I won't mess up. I've done this a number of times already, so you can be sure that I won't be caught red-handed with my pants down. Money-back guarantee."
The lion blinked as the offer was made. This was real, he was really going to do this to someone to get ahead in life, there could be no turning back after a decision this big... big. John reached into his pockets again, this time pulling out a wad of cash. It was the stallion's turn to raise an eyebrow in surprise as John counted out the cost of purchasing his services.
"Wow, that's quite a wad. I'd be careful around here with something like that. Did you walk?" Derrick asked, a hint of concern touching his voice.
John looked up from his counting, then shook his head in response, finally placing down the ten thousand dollars in neat, crisp hundred dollar bills, stuffing the rest of the bills into his pocket again.
The stallion picked up the money, counting it slowly to be sure that it was all there, then calling out to the mouse, who came bounding out from down the hall. The horse handed the wad of cash to the mouse with a smile and a wink, the mouse all-too eager to take the money to the safe he had no doubt installed in one of the rooms.
"Alright, as far as I'm concerned, our business is done here. Come back in a week to collect the dog if you want him. Any questions?" The stallion asked, standing, getting the door, and gesturing for John to leave, though not abruptly. John was of the same sentiment, it was time for him to go. So he stood, brushed off his clothing of imaginary dirt, and shook his head, stepping out the door and back into the night of the city's dirty little secret.
*****
It was at the coffee shop near the Super Save that I spotted my mark. Let me tell you, it's pretty tough to hide a six foot-five solid black stallion behind a small table and a cup of joe, but if you try hard enough, you can work it. So there I was, working it, pretending to be interested in the largest newspaper that I could find while keeping an eye on the german shepherd.
Like any of the patrons at the coffee shop, he glanced at me maybe once or twice before getting back to his own business. It was his business that I was more concerned over though. Ever since that lion boy had come wandering into my neck of the woods, I had been pondering this job. Big business-type marks were always more complicated... and more fun... than the average joe's. You've got your vendettas, your big disputes, even your family feuds, but all of those were easy jobs. Big businesses, especially hostile takeovers, were the fun ones.
Hey, I wasn't just using the newspaper to hide myself in the crowd, I was also reading it. Apparently two big name software brands were trying to out-buy each other, one of them threatening a hostile takeover of the other unless they could come to some kind of merger agreement. The scales were tipped way in one company's favor though, which is why the other had repeatedly refused the offer in the past. The guy I was looking at right now? Arther Ukras, the CEO and founder of the bigger company. He held the majority of the stock for his company, and would stand to lose the most out of any merger. Plus, it looked like he was the only one who was holding out.
Something high-profile like that couldn't just be done at the guy's house, so I had to track him a little before the week was up. I followed him easily, the crowds of the city business district were amazing sometimes, threatening to swallow every last soul in its tidal wave, easy to miss one big stallion in. I picked up on mister Ukras' routine, coffee at eleven at the same shop every time, some place on the outskirts of the business district. He would have his coffee for an hour, maybe more, then use the bathroom and leave for the rest of his day. The bathroom was where I'd have to get him.
So I waited. And waited, sipping coffee, watching him sip coffee. I made a game of it, trying to take a sip of my coffee and turn the page of my newspaper at the exact moment that he did. It passed the time, what else could I do? By the eighteenth time that he was about the sip his coffee, I realized he was out, and that he was getting up to take his bathroom break. I got up too, stretching a little, staying inconspicuous.
I moved right behind him, smiling and nodding innocuously as he nodded to me, letting him lead the way to the bathroom. He pushed the door in and walked through, and I closed the door behind us, locking it from the inside. I knew this wouldn't be enough if too much noise was made, but I really wouldn't need that much time.
"What are you doing?" Arthur demanded, looking at me incredulously. Fuck, he had seen me locking the door. So much for being subtle. I bum-rushed him then, his back against the sink. He let out only a single yelp of surprise before I was on him, closing my big paw around his muzzle to silence him. He struggled, boy was it a struggle, but he was definitely no match for my bulk, and I simply pinned him against the sink, his back against one of the wash basins as I listened to see if anyone had heard.
I couldn't hear anything, he was struggling too much. I had to use the chloroform. I hated using it, it seemed so unsportsmanlike, but I didn't have much of a choice. I held my breath, pulled the damp cloth out of the little baggy I had it in, and clapped it over his muzzle. He growled through his teeth, and fought some more, but I could already see the chemical working against him, the light going from his blue eyes, and finally they closed. His body slumped under mine, and this time my ears swiveled toward the door, listening again.
Five minutes passed, and nothing, I smiled and threw the cloth away, picking up the businessman and sitting him up on one of the toilets in the stall, going to the door and unlocking it again. It didn't matter if anyone came in now, not when I had a stall between me and anyone seeing what was really going on. Nothing about the process could be given away just by sound alone, especially in a bathroom.
I clopped back to my mark, closing the stall door and locking it behind me as I grinned down at the unconscious canine. Then, I pulled down the waistband of my sweatpants, exposing my massive loins to the open air with a sigh. I loved my cock and the twins. Every time I saw them, I'd have to stare a little at their beauty, beauty won from hard work and determination. I took care of them, shaving away those pesky hairs, massaging lotion into the flesh to keep it from getting chapped, forgoing underwear to give them plenty of room to move around while I trotted along. I caressed them with a gentle whicker, enjoying the touch of my warm paw against the heft of my giant balls, the right one of which was decorated with a bunch of white cumdrops.'
You know how some gangs decorate the corner of their eyes with tattooed blood teardrops whenever they kill someone? Yeah, same idea here. Of course, I don't really kill anyone, per se. I just make them disappear, change them into something different.
I thought about what I was about to do for the seventeenth time in my life, letting my shaft swell gently with my heartbeat as it prepared for its meal, like a huge horse-like python. I went to work, stripping the canine, taking off his shirt and folding it up neatly, then his pants, underwear, suit jacket, socks, shoes, wristwatch, even his silver sheath-ring, placing them all in a neat pile on the toilet tank to keep them out of sight. By the time I was finished, my shaft was ready to work. I placed my paws on my hips, staring proudly down at my massive erection.
It had to be over three feet in length now. I had forgotten to measure it lately, the thing grew every time I devoured someone in this way, just a little bit. I smiled, stroking the vein-laced side of it, flexing it from the thick base. I couldn't wrap my single paw around it, and that was saying quite a bit. Trying to do so did nothing more than start the shaft drooling, a bead of precum dripping from the protruding urethra, splashing into the chestfur of my prey below.
Taking a moment to breathe, I squatted, picking up the german shepherds ankles in my paws. The guy was plantigrade, uncommon for most furs, but it'd pose no obstacle. I directed his legs to bend upward, making him slump against the fixture, then slowly teased his toes against my tip. I had to bite back a whinny of pleasure. It was always the initial touch that got me every time. Whether my prey was struggling or unconscious, that first touch was always ecstasy.
Responding to the stimuli, my cock gushed a huge load of precum onto the feet and legs of the canine, most of the excess drooling into the open toilet bowl beneath, but some of it splattering thickly onto the floor as well. Oh well, I'd clean that up later.
Applying gentle pressure, all ten toes suddenly vanished inside my penis, making the head stretch, the flare swelling out wide as my heart sped up. From here it would be easy, but not easy to hold in my voice. I groaned loudly as my entire length flexed, suddenly pulling in both of the sheperd's feet to the ankles, even more precum gushing down those shapely legs.
I opened my eyes again, resting my big paws on my hips, watching my cock at work. It was a shame, the guy was pretty attractive, and he looked like he was taking care of his body for the most part. Too bad it'd be me who was taking care of that body now. He was in up to his knees now, sliding against the porcelain beneath him as my strong member pulled him gradually inside. I would feel my hips unconsciously buck forward, then my cock would flex from the tip down to the base and beyond, and a few more inches of the prey's body would be swallowed up. It really was fascinating for me to watch, to feel, to consciously control it for a few moments at a time so that I could really feel it.
The sensations were absolutely amazing, taking another being into your loins, it was heaven, especially the stretching. As I neared his hips, his thighs tapering out to strong man-hips, making the flare widen considerably as I whinnied quietly. The more powerful sucking motions from deep inside my base starting to come into play, making loud squelching noises with each flex of my cock.
Size was a factor here too, the bigger the bulges going in, the easier it was for me to tell where in my shaft the shepherd was reaching. I felt along my cock, my fingers brushing lightly against the bulge of his toes, nearly to the base, making me bite my lower lip in pleasure. Another firm gush of precum and a powerful flex pulling in the canine's hips, pulling him upward. Unfortunately, this caused his head to dunk right into the clean water of the bowl, and he sputtered awake. He was groggy, but aware, and he started to struggle.
I sighed, picking up his upper form so that my massive cock would lay against my chest, holding his chest against mine as if to hug him and holding his muzzle closed. I had to keep him quiet, but the biggest challenge was to keep myself quiet at this point. His struggles were going all the way down my base, causing my nerve endings to shoot off in enjoyment, and my cock to swallow faster. His form was slipping out of my paws and right down into my shaft, my hips bucking powerfully in the process.
That's when I felt my special place fill. I could never tell exactly where in the male anatomy my special place was, but it was always where my prey ended up. This caused my belly to start to bulge, and I pulled my shirt up gleefully to watch it expand, the shepherds legs and hips filling that place and making it stretch enormously, making me groan loudly and whicker, pushing on the canine's shoulders to get him to slide in faster. It was all so much, that I had forgotten to keep his muzzle closed, and he shouted a little.
It was too late though, his head was suddenly swallowed by my cock, muffling any further protest. I watched proudly as his arms were the only thing left to stick out of the huge tip, a big black snake of a cock swallowing up a pair of brown fuzzy arms, and gushing precum the whole time.
I rubbed the side of my canine-filled gut pleasurably, feeling him struggling inside, trying to find his way out again. He'd never find his way out though, not in the form he currently occupied. I grinned as I watched his last-ditch effort, his fingers curling along my flare, the last to go inside my giantly-swollen cumslit. I let him hold on for dear life, teasing him a little with a few gentle rubs down the underside of my shaft. Another powerful flex ended his illusion though, pulling him entirely into my body. I watched as his arms traveled down my shaft and pushed their way into my gut as well, finally tucking him away completely.
All I needed then was time. I sat on the pot and waited, idly stroking the bulge in my big horse belly, feeling him run out of air though continue to struggle in his death-throes. He went still ten minutes in, longer than most would, and I could feel my special male place start to work on him, secreting fluids that would break him down to base pre-conception components. In other words, horse cum. The bulges in my gut gradually lost definition, and the whole thing sloshed a little after fifteen minutes. No one bothered me the whole time, though plenty of people came and went, doing their own business, listening to the gurgling sounds of someone else's belly. In curiosity, I slid one of my thick fingers into my anus to feel my prostate, and was surprised to feel that it was part of the bulge. So that was what it must have been, my prostate was big enough to hold entire furs inside it!
Half an hour in, and that's when I felt it, that urge to let go... like the need to piss like a racehorse though far more pleasurable and deeper down inside. I stood slowly, my belly sloshing audibly, squatted a little once I was sure no one was in the bathroom with me, then let it go. With a loud, sloshing, glorping, rushing noise of liquid, my belly quickly deflated. All that canine-turned-seed gushing into my testicles, filling them up quickly, making them balloon to the size of watermelons in no time flat. I cried out loudly in pleasure, grateful for how hard it was to hear anyone in the bathroom from anywhere else, as my balls literally touched the cool floor of the bathroom, resting there in all their huge glory.
The deed was done. It was time to get a new cum drop tattoo.