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Possum Prison Pussy

Part 4: Light Duty

Sneak Peek

Sylva was raw after Diesel’s little ass reaming. He went a lot harder than he said he would, and the possum had just barely escaped without an anal fissure. Though, the possum wasn’t surprised. Everything in this damned hell hole was so much harder than it looked. He thought he would be sitting, eating, and shitting for seven years, but now he was thrusted into a game he didn’t want to play. He was never cut out for mind games, apart from teasing, but teasing here got your ass broken in. Especially when anyone could go to Magnus, throw money and favors at him, and get the little possum’s ass on a silver platter.

Sylva cried that night. Lawrence was able to spare a few pain killers for the poor possum, but it only dulled it. With each beat of his heart, the possum’s asshole throbbed like it was punishing him for being so fucking stupid to land himself in this shithole. Just before he would fall asleep, his ass would clench and he would get a shocking reminder of what happened earlier.

He cursed Checker’s name, he mentally scratched the leopard’s eyes out. He wanted nothing more than to hurt someone in that instant, but make them feel the burning pain and shattered pride he felt. He hurt, so he wanted someone else to hurt, but the problem was that he was at the bottom of the pecking order. So…for now he had to take Checker’s advice and simply bear it. Change the fucking game and hope he can survive.

The next day Sylva bid Lawrence goodbye, or maybe the possum just nodded as he walked out of his cell. In the end, it didn’t matter. The one thing he knew was that he was hungry. He was tired and exhausted, and hadn’t really eaten anything besides a slice of toast and some watery soup the night before. Sylva came to Magnus’ table and saw the space next to Magnus had no chair. The possum just sighed, his heart going numb as he shuffled over to Magnus’ side and proceeded to sit down on the floor.

He was going to sit, but his ass screamed at him despite all the lovely cushioning his cheeks provided his pucker. His mouth hung open in a silent scream before he quickly adjusted into a kneeling position. He took a few deep breaths as the pain subsided down into a dull ache before moving on to his breakfast.

Sylva heard his name come up in passing, but he was more interested in his breakfast and being as invisible as possible.

“Looks like you’re training the boy well,” Magnus rumbled as he noticed that Sylva had come to his side silently and started eating his breakfast. “Did you want to sit by your master’s side?”

Magnus stroked his meaty hand over Sylva’s head and neck, his touch more vile than sludge rolling down his back.

“Sorry...um Boss,” Sylva didn’t look up, he kept looking down. “I…I like the position of on my knees better.”

Magnus gripped the possum by the scruff, Sylva having to stifle a cry. Magnus’ nails dug into his flesh underneath. Sylva was forced to lock with the dark coal-like eyes of his owner.

“I wasn’t asking,” Magnus growled. “I’m fucking telling you to grab a chair and be grateful.”

“Magnus, please…I’m sorry,” Sylva couldn’t help the tears that broke over his cheeks. “I’ll do better…please…I just can’t sit right now.”

“What do you mean, you can’t sit?” Magnus’ voice had an edge, but he loosened his grip on Sylva’s scruff, the soft fur and flesh slipping between his fingers, but he kept his hand there ready to grip again if Sylva tried to look away.

“I…” Sylva suddenly felt fear twinge down deep in his gut. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from screaming as Magnus gripped his scruff again.

“Why can’t you sit?” Magnus growled.

“It hurts too much,” Sylva gasped out.

“What? What hurts?” Magnus let up his grip again.

“My…I…” Sylva looked down for only a fraction of a second, but his eyes shot back up to Magnus who was quickly getting annoyed. Nothing struck fear into Sylva more than those eyes.

“My ass…” Sylva felt like he was giving away something he shouldn’t. He knew it could bring pain upon someone else, but in that moment all he could think of was self-preservation.

Magnus’ head snapped to look at someone at the table.

“Whispers, hold Diesel down,” Magnus snarled his order.

“Wa? Boss! No I didn’t do nothing wrong, I was gentle I swear! He’s just a little pussy,” Diesel shot back, but the sound of chairs shifting and the rumble of Whispers’ weight as he lumbered to the rhino was evidence enough that Magnus didn’t buy his words.

“Oh really? Is that so?” Magnus turned back to Sylva. “Present your ass to me.”

“But…”

“Now,” Magnus ordered again.

That one word was more potent than any whip. It forced Sylva into reality as he pulled himself around. He didn’t know exactly what to do in this situation, but he decided that simply turning his back, face to the floor, and pants pulled down was what would please Magnus. Sylva got into position and pulled the hem of his scrubs down to show Magnus his ass. Apparently he wasn’t doing it fast enough as Magnus’ powerful fingers gripped his scrubs and shoved them down.

Cool air brushed his sore pucker, the bright pink was an inflamed red and his cheeks were dark from bruises. Given, some of the marks were done by Magnus, but that made little difference in his eyes. Magnus gripped those cheeks and spread them and Sylva had to bite his lip to keep from crying out, but that didn’t stop the tears from rolling down his muzzle. He was on display for the entire table to see, and his bruised and beaten pucker was clear evidence of a rough and traumatizing fuck.

“You call that gentle?” Magnus turned his head to look at Diesel, yanking up Sylva’s pants again, causing the possum to yip as the bleach starched fabric bunched up between his fat cheeks.

“You know how big I am Boss. I would never hurt Cheeks on purpose, but come on. Nothing I can do when he’s a little virgin hole.”

“So, you thought it best to break the merchandise to get your nut? You’d cross ME because you wanted to get your rocks off,” Magnus’ voice was steely and cold.

“I was gentle as I could!” Diesel was sweating. “Go on Cheeks, tell um! I was gentle as I could!”

“Well, Cheeks,” Magnus gripped Sylva by his scruff and forced him up to his feet. “Was he gentle?”

Sylva was finally able to see what was happening. Diesel was sitting and Whispers had the rhino pinned to his chair with his massive hands on the rhino’s shoulders. Diesel’s face was void of color, he was terrified. Terrified of Magnus…

Terrified of me, Sylva thought. The possum glanced over to see Checkers and his words came to him. Magnus is a powerful tool if you know how to use him…

“Well?” Magnus urged Sylva on. “Would you consider Diesel’s go at you, ‘entle?’”

“I…” Sylva felt something well up in him. It caused his muscles to relax, his brow to soften, and stemmed his tears.

Power.

Power and control filled Sylva’s chest as he took a deep breath.

“No,” Sylva could see the fear bloom in Diesel’s eyes as those words parted the possum’s lips. “He wasn’t gentle.”

Sylva gave a little yip as Magnus pulled him close, that powerful hand clamping down on the possum’s shoulder hard before bringing him to his side possessively.

“Whispers,” Magnus’ eyes were somehow darker. “You know what to do.”

“What? No!” Diesel tried to jump up out of his chair, but a light flex from Whispers’ powerful arms forced him to stay down. “I was gentle! I swear! The bitch is lying!”

“That ass is all the proof I need,” Magnus growled. “Do you have any idea how much fucking money you just cost me?”

“His ass will heal!” Diesel tried to argue.

“And with every day he needs to recover, your ass will be covering his duties until then.”

“Fuck! I ain’t no bitch!” Diesel was almost livid. Some of the guards were coming over, but Mangus lifted a hand and they stopped.

“You’re a bitch if I fucking say you are,” Magnus’ permanent scowl cracked into a dark grin around his tusks. “Now, Whispers, you can go break him in, oh, and be gentle.”

Sylva saw something that he never thought he would see on Whispers’ face. A slow mutation of that warm smile he flashed the possum warped into something so predatory and dark it reminded Sylva that Whispers was a prisoner in this place for a reason. If he had a double hard on protecting pussy, what would he do to someone who hurt it?

Whispers started pulling Diesel’s chair away from the table when the Rhino leapt into action. He ran as Whispers tried to grip him by his scrubs, but the neck just tore on the great white’s vicious claws. The rhino ran headlong into a guard and started punching him.

“The fucking idiot,” Magnus huffed.

Sylva was frozen, but a calming brush of Magnus’ thumb brought him back to reality. The big elephant was trying to calm Sylva down by brushing his thumb over his shoulder. If it were anyone else, it may have worked. It only caused Sylva to tense up more, but he quelled the need to jump away by leaning into Magnus harder. Sylva shivered as he watched Diesel get tackled by a set of guards. He immediately gave up and went limp, but the guards beat him anyway. He even shouted his surrender, but his cries were muffled by a boot kicking his face in. The rhino was bloodied and disorientated. The only sounds he made were grunts and gasps of pain.

The worst part though, was that the display made Sylva feel good.

Every punch, kick, and strike with a nightstick sent a wave of satisfaction through Sylva. He was winning…finally winning at something.

“He thinks solitary will keep him safe?” Magnus huffed and pulled Sylva closer. “Whispers, you’re going to be spending solitary with him.”

“Yes Boss,” Whispers spoke with a normal voice, a deep wet growl rolling through his chest.

“Calm down big guy,” Magnus sighed. “You’ll have all night to fuck him into shape. Just let him know any fight he puts up is an affront to me. As for you,” Magnus turned his attention to Sylva and cupped his chin, forcing the possum to look the elephant prison lord in the eye. “If I find out you were fucking with me, I’ll break your fucking legs.”

Sylva’s breath hitched as the warmth of control he had was soured by that dark thought.

“Yeah,” Magnus continued. “That’s right. You should fear crossing me. Just remember, your holes are what matter to me, and you can get fucked just fine if your legs are in casts. Now, what do you say?”

“Huh?” Sylva shook his head slightly, his eyes never leaving Magnus’. “What do you mean?”

“What do you say when someone does something nice for you, fagtard?”

“Uh…Thank you…Magnus – AH!” Sylva was silenced as those fingers dug into his jaw.

“You almost said it right,” Magnus snarled. “I’m not Magnus out here.”

“Sorry,” Sylva sniffed. “Thank you…Boss…”

Magnus smiled and eased up his grip on Sylva’s chin.

“Good girl,” he rumbled and Sylva could see the twitch in the elephant’s pants. That thick fuck log hard as a rock. “To bad you’re all banged up, but you’ll get to show your appreciation in a different way. Checkers,” Magnus turned his head to the blind leopard. “We’re going to set up some new clients, but we’re going to have to do hand jobs and oral only.”

“I’ll train him proper, Boss,” Checkers wasn’t even going to try and call him Magnus.

“Good boy,” Magnus nodded his approval, his resting scowl face coming back in force.

The rest of their meal was spent in relative silence. People only spoke when spoken too or if they had something to report to Boss.

Sylva felt his veins buzzing, his mind alight with what he just did. He got back at Diesel for fucking him into next week. He actually…won something. The very thought sent shivers down his spine. His boxers were damp with the way his pussy quivered, the pain from fucking Magnus having subsided.

He could play this game…he could win at this game…

He could win…