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The Junkyard Dogs: Recruitment

By: Russell Rottweiler

With the sun high in the sky and only the sliver of shadows cast from compacted cars as a reprieve the scrapyard was balmy. The moist air was trapped in the maze of twisted metal and trash only intensified by the tall berms of soil that surrounded the yard. As Shawn wandered through the maze he was unsure if he really wanted to give his resume to the company for consideration. However, he needed a job to help pay his way through college and a graveyard yard job sounded like the best way. Sure he'd need to sleep during the day but it was a small price to pay for an education.

The fair skinned man rounded a wall of cars as he followed the sounds of metal as it screamed when bent. Glass crunched under his para-boots, jeans tucked into them, tongue flopped over his toes only partially laced. A light, black, tank top rested on his skinny shoulders hair cut short and lightly greased up. It was not the best choice of clothing for walking in a junkyard, but it sure beat the heat. He rounded another bend and was soon faced with another wall of cars. However, the wall moved toward him and was five feet off the ground.

"Oi, skinny get the fuck out of the way!" A man called from beside the giant forklift.

Shawn was quick to get as close to the wall of scrap to his left as the large vehicle continued to roll by. He looked up into the vehicle and saw a lanky man with tanned skin. Face smudged with oil and hair hidden under a worn baseball cap. A lolipop stick hung out of his lips, green eyes focused on Shawn's own for a brief moment. The look of indifference on the man's face would not soon be forgotten. But perhaps that indifference was laced with some relief, the driver obviously unable to see what was in front of him.

"What the hell are you doing out this way without an escort anyway?" The short man confronted Shawn.

Unlike the driver, this man had his overalls unzipped and hung from his waist. Tight, sleeveless shirt soaked in sweat and nearly translucent. It was apparent to Shawn that the man could probably bend his frame in half three times over if he wanted. A baseball cap with the company's logo sat on his head, bill worn low and obscured his eyes.

"Uh the lady at the front desk told me that y'all were out back and to find ya," Shawn said.

"She did now?" The man reached to his waist and pulled out a walkie talkie. He pushed a button and began to shout, "Marg, why the fuck did you send this man out here without telling us. Could have got him killed," the man stopped and waited. But then looked over at Shawn, "Charles by the way," he said with a grunt.

"Shawn," he replied quieter than the dark skinned man.

"God damn't Marg learn to use a fucking walkie talkie," Charles once more yelled.

"Uhh, Charles. I think she left after she pointed me out this way, said somethin about lunch time," Shawn said and nearly melted at the man's gaze.

"She just fucking got back from lunch, that hog! Why do I bother hirin women," he paused and turned his head toward Shawn. "Ye lookin for a job slim?"

Shawn's mouth opened but whatever he was going to say was cut off by Charles.

"Course you ain't," he chuckled and patted Shawn's shoulder. "Come on, lets get the fuck out of this heat."

Shawn swallowed his words as his heart sunk in his chest, "maybe I should just leave now," he thought to himself.

But he didn't leave or more he couldn't leave with the thick hand on his shoulder pulling him around the junkyard. The corner he rounded was now filled with a new stack of cars, tracks from the yellow lift headed back into the yard. Shawn could see the vehicle parked and but the tall man was nowhere to be seen.

"Tsk, George prolly hoofed it back into the office. He's sensitive about near accidents, man doesn't talk much but he sure worries," Charles said.

"Yeah? That is a good thing about a person," Shawn nodded his head.

Charles only grunted in reply before he added in a dead pan tone, "pisses me the off."

"Oh."

It was only a minute after before they were both in the shade of the mobile office. Fans were set to high all around the room while an ac unity from the fifties puttered away loudly. Still the few degrees difference from outside to inside was pleasant on Shawn's skin. His eyes watched the short and brawny man move into the office, eyes on his strong back admiring the way the muscles shifted. But the sight soon vanished as Charles ducked into an open door, but his voice could still be heard.

"George! Get out ere, we got a work order."

"Where'd that bitch go?"

"She's gone, if she shows her ugly mug round here I'll send her out the door with a black eye as a paycheck. Now come on," Charles finished as he stepped out into the main office.

"Pardon my language, don't get many folks out this way, now let me see what you have ere huh?" Charles extended his hand, eyes on Shawn's resume.

"Oh uh, it isn't a work order," Shawn began but then was cut off by Charles.

"Shit, is it a court order," he asked with concerned tone.

"No! No it isn't that either," Charles's brow furrowed.

"Well then out with it boy, what the hell is it?"

"Its my," Shawn gave a small smile, "my resume. I read a post that y'all were looking for a night time yard hand."

It was at that time that George finally slipped from the shadows of the door frame and looked over at them both. Shawn looked over at George, he was tall man with a rich, chocolate, skin tone. Greasy, long, hair draped over his coverall's collar. He moved smoothly across the room until he planted his butt on a desk's top. The sharp eyes continued to study Shawn close, their eyes meeting at one point. Shawn's yielded when George's didn't relent and instead turned his attention back to Charles.

"You the one who emailed huh? Tsk, too bad did you read the listing thoroughly?" Charles said flatly.

Shawn looked confused, "yes, yes I did. I read the job description and I felt it was a perfect position for me. I'm a college student and really need--"

"Stop," George cut Shawn off, "did you read the whole thing in its entirety or just the job description?"

Charles didn't say anything but adjusted his hat up and out of his eyes. Shawn could finally see the rusty, rich, brown eyes hidden in shadow before. But their eyes did little to quell the sense of dread that slowly crept up his throat.

"I mean I sort of scanned some of it, didn't think the rest was important," Shawn said honestly.

His answer seemed to get both eyes off of him for a moment and offered a little release from the tension in his chest.

"Look, bud," Charles began, "you look like a good guy, maybe operate some of the machinery. But in order for you to do that you gotta be detail oriented."

"Or accidents happen," George added.

"Right, skimming details could be the end of someone's life. If you bothered to read the brief ad you would have known that we gave a very specific subject to have in that email. Which you did not use, so we gotta assume you can't be trusted." Charles looked over Shawn's shocked expression.

"Damn, I apologize--"

"Shut it, you can't apologize if a fatal accident has taken place," Charles responded curtly.

Shawn huffed and nodded his head, "I understand. Well I suppose, thank you for your time."

Shawn began to turn toward the door.

"Oi, dipshit, we didn't say you ain't hired," Shawn turned back around annoyed.

But when his eyes saw them both grinning, "you really gotta grow a spine boy," George said.

"Tsk, says you Mr. run n hide," Charles teased. He turned his head back to Shawn, "seein as a new position has opened we could really use the extra help. I'm assumin you still only can work nights huh?"

Shawn nodded, shoulders straightened with new found confidence, "yea nights would work the best for my schedule."

George smiled and Charles said, "Good. Seeing as we are put in this position and yer the only one who has bothered to drive out ere in person we'll give ya a shot. You free this evening?"

"Yeah, I am free tonight and tomorrow, no classes on the weekend this semester," Shawn said with a smile.

"Good, get back ere round 5 and we'll show you the ropes," Charles said while he walked toward Shawn.

His hand was extended toward the door, the other on Shawn's lithe back. Shawn wasn't sure if it was just wishful thinking or if it were deliberate but Charle's fingers seemed to massage the base of his neck lightly. The front door opened and the short man stepped aside to let Shawn out. But before he completely left the office Charles pressed firmly on the back and lifted his head to whisper in his ear.

"Yer also lucky George there fancies ya, keep that in mind as you wait for yer trainen," Charles winked and then flicked his head toward the outside.

"Oh, that is good to know. I fancy him too," Shawn replied.

"Git the fuck out of ere," Charles said.

Shawn left and Charles closed the door. His hand turned the open sign to closed before he began to approach George.

"He is a hot fucker aye? Looks like he's got a tight ass on 'im," Charles said and moved to peel off his hat.

Hair cut in a short crew cut two black and brown ears flopped from beneath the worn cloth on either side of his head. He flicked the hat against a thigh and sighed with relief, ears flicked and stretched. George did the same, though two tall and pointed ears pierced through the side of his long, black, hair.

"Yeah he is but god do I hate having to wear a hat to cover my ears, I was glad ya kept Shawn's attention so I could have some time without the hat," George said.

The tall were-doberman flopped on the office chair behind the desk, the rottweiler taken a seat on the desk faced toward George. Lips curled in a wide grin and finally exposed the long canines on his upper and lower jaw. His boot lifted and landed square on George's crotch, pushing lightly against it. George groaned and tried to roll back and away from the touch, but the wall wouldn't let him get away.

"He get you all hard ya velcro dog," Charles said.

"Hard as hell fucking jerk, also you know I hate that term, not all dobermans are velcro dogs," George pushed the boot off his crotch.

Charles chuckled and let his legs swing for a moment before one planted itself on George's knee. "Maybe so, but you sure are, especially when it comes to this," Charles groped his crotch lewdly.

His cock shaft was outlined in the coverall's positioned toward one of his pant legs. Without shame his hand moved down to his zipper and began to unzip the coveralls completely down and expose the bottom of his cock's shaft. A light fuzz of pubes connected by a light happy trail between defined abs.

"Ya know, I did you a fair solid. How about you return the favor," Charles said with a small swipe of his nub.

The tail loudly scraped against the inside of the coverall still free to move around freely as he began to fish out his cock. He gave the uncut prick a few tugs before it popped free from the cotton prison. It stank of musk and only grew stronger as he peeled back his foreskin.

"Did ya have to ask?" George said before he stood and unzipped his coveralls and peeled it away from his body.

Although thin, his muscles were even more defined than the rottweiler. What the doberman lacked in mass he made up for with lack of body fat. His own chocolate, brown, cock hung semi firm between his legs and swung as he sat back down. Chair slid forward as his nose dug into Charles's crotch sniffing deeply.

"Fuck you always loved my scent," Charles said and brought a hand to the back of the doberman's head.

"Fuck yea I have, can't never get enough of it," George said muffled into the scent soaked clothing.

Tongue extended and rolled against the cock base before his fingers dipped into Charles's clothes and fished out the loose ball sack. He tugged on the testicles stretching the skin out into the open before letting go. This always made the rottweiler growl, foreskin glossy with a pool of pre-cum. The doberman returned the growl as his tongue focused on the low-hangers. It swiped across each, heavy, testicle before lips curled around one and gently suckled it. Sharp canines encircled and tugged the slight discomfort earning a firm grip on his ear and side of his face.

Charles's hips pushed and ground against the face, cock twitching as veins began to show along the surface. The purple head of his glands exposed the pool of pre forced to dribble down and land on the bridge of George's nose. The scent flooded the doberman's nose and made him attack the other testicle with more enthusiasm a hand between his leg. His cock was slightly longer and thinner than the rottweiler's thick prick. His skin was much looser and allowed him to jack his cock without lube, foreskin rolling over his purple cock head. The pre he leaked frothed to a white foam that only filled the room up with more aroused musk.

"Come on you fucker, eat my cock already," Charles said.

"Mmm, bein impatient today huh?" George said and licked the tip.

"Shut up and put it in your mouth," Charles said and leaned back on his hands.

George's lips quickly sealed themselves around the cock sucking the tip hard, cheeks sucked in. He pulled back and wet his lips before he dove back down the cock, tongue dancing around the thick meat slowly taking more into his hot mouth. The wet suckles and sloppy schlicks grew as George eagerly bobbed his head in Charle's lap. Both bodies rumbled lustfully, the rottweiler's legs extending to plant themselves on both of George's knees. Muscles flexed beneath the sleeveless shirt as his hips raised to meet each bob of the hot mouth. Some thrusts were punctuated by a firm smack as his thick cock dug deep, balls smacking wetly against the chin.

The doberman's eyes closed as one of Charle's hands pulled his head tight to his crotch. His throat squeezed tight around the cock head as he stifled a gag. The loud noise of choking spurring the rottweiler on as he drew his hips back until his cock head left George's panting mouth. A long strand of thick saliva and pre arched away from his lips and broke against his chin and Charle's cock. All the while his hand stroked his own cock quickly. He knew what was gonna come next, taking in a deep breath before shoving that cock back into his mouth till his lips pressed against Charle's pubes.

"Oh fuck yeah, you love this dick," he said and adjusted his posture.

Feet planted pressed harder against George's knees while one strong arm held the head firmly in place. His hips ground against the soft lips before hips drew back and made the doberman moan around the prick. The rottweiler roughly shoved back in chocking the doberman loving the wet gags and suckles as lips broke the vacuum seal. He could feel the hot spit roll across his testicles as he began to fuck that mouth hard and fast. He would moan whenever that tongue caught his sensitive head and pushed itself into his foreskin, seeking out all that musk and pre cum. Balls and flesh slapped more and more as the rottie used his friends head for his own pleasure. Balls drew closer to his hot, sweating, body as his prick grew harder and harder.

"Yeah, yeah, here it comes cum hungry bitch," he growled.

His hand pulled the doberman off his cock as he leaned forward and began to strokes his slick cock hard and fast. There was a loud bark that came with the first blast of cum that painted the doberman's cheek. Sloppy mouth and chin caught the next few thick loads, pooling in his mouth the rest webbing from his chin and onto the cheap tile floor. Charle's wiped his cock head to catch some of the cum and fed his cock tip directly back into the doberman's mouth. Tongue licked and cleaned the cock head of all the pearlescent cream before popping off and leaning back against the chair.

His hand rolled beneath his white, sleeveless shirt, pulling it up and out of the way of his cut abs. Cock firm, pulsing as the wet schlicks of foreskin cut through the dual pants from both men. A deep, but low, growl came from the doberman. Face scrunched in concentration that slowly began to soften as his growls grew louder.

"That's it ya twinky bitch, cum for me," Charles encouraged.

Soon George's hips fucked themselves up into his palm a deep and relieved moan came from his parted mouth. Chocolate skin painted with ropes of watery, milky, cum in long ropes that reached between his nipples. Cock flexed as he held the long shaft's base cum absolutely covering his front in a glossy sheen.

"Fuck yeah man, you always cum loads," Charles panted and made George chuckle.

"God what a fucking mess," he said between chuckles and pants.

He looked down at his body covered in cum wiping some of it off his abs to quickly lick and eat.

"Cum hound," Charles teased with a smile.

"What can I say, I love the stuff, just as much as I love this chair!"

"Tsk then just get it on your shirt we got a washer ere."

"Oh yeah we does," George said before he lowered his shirt to soak up the cum.

"Fucking idiot dog."