FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

--1

"I need that equipment tested and ready for tonight, you got that or what?"

Ricky groaned, puffing smoke past his perfect lips. He rubbed his hoof on the wall and looked up at the dusk sky. Orlando was exactly as boring as he thought it would be, but somehow uglier than he imagined. The people were mouthbreathers, the weather unbearably hot, and the gay culture subdued. It was difficult for even a fine girly stallion like himself to get laid.

Compounding his frustrations was the constant stream of technical difficulties: six blown fuses; two dead-on-arrival amps; countless earsplitting feedback loops; dead lamps on the jumbotron; and a pyrotechnics display which malfunctioned and put two of the engineers in the hospital. Ricky thumbed the volume dial on his walkie-talkie, turning it up, turning it down, listening to the ambient hiss rise and fall. A flash of lightning lit the murky clouds, and the walkie-talkie belched horrible static. The boy flinched and swore, dropping his cigarette on the pavement. He eyed it for a few seconds, then stomped it under his hoof and grumbled.

"Yeah, I'll get the fucking thing working, just blow it out your ass until then."

"Just do it, you little bastard," dispatch groused.

All sass and smoking aside, Ricky was a gifted electrical engineer. He traced the failures back further and further, fixing them along the way until he found himself on the lighting rig gantry, screwdriver clutched in his teeth like a pirate's cutlass and a multimeter clipped to his belt. When he was through and he screwed the splice on tight, he rested against the gantry, putting the small of his back on the cold steel, thinking little of the deadly fall that awaited one missed step.

"Someone hit the lights, see if they come up now," he said into his walkie-talkie. He waited a solid ten seconds, and was greeted by a blast of static from the storm. With much less cool, he barked, "Somebody try the fucking lights, I wanna get down from here!"

A lazy, stoned chuckle came through. "Do it yourself, dude, quit being a dick."

"I gotta climb all the way down so I can hit the breaker and--, and climb all the way back up if it doesn't--!"

"Yeah, that really sucks. Better start climbing, dude."

Ricky hissed and clicked his teeth, starting the long climb down again. Let's see how much you like it when I stick my hoof in your ass, Bradley, he thought, so angry that he was grinning. With a couple of feet to go, he jumped down and landed heavily on his hooves, falling into a crouch.

Backstage, Ricky's plans to kick some ass (and to check the veracity of his work on the lights) were derailed when he saw the star of the show outside his dressing room. "Kocaine" Kahnso looked out of place, the horse thought, without his leather loincloth; seeing him in sweat pants was like rock god sacrilege, but the lack of any top offset it a little bit.

"Hey, you," Kahnso grunted, flicking his snout up. "Ricky, right?"

"That's me," Ricky said, awed that Kahnso knew his name. He remarked on it.

Kahnso smiled and fingered the badge on the Ricky's chest. The stallion grumbled and looked away. "Hey kid," he snickered, "I've seen you smoking around here."

"What? Ah, yeah. Yeah. I know, I know, I'm not supposed to," Ricky mumbled.

"Who fucking cares?" the rockstar laughed. "I just want a cigarette, kid, I'm fresh out."

To Ricky, it was an honor to give Kahnso a cigarette, and more so to light it for him. The giant fox nodded appreciatively and said between puffs, "Nice hair, kid, that's real cute." Surprising Ricky more, but not at all putting him off, Kahnso touched it, shallowly rubbing his locks. "You put those highlights in yourself, or?"

Ricky smiled. "Yeah, I do it myself. Red, matches my eyes, y'know."

"Matches mine too," Kahnso grinned and winked. "Thanks for the smoke, kid."

Kahnso turned toward his dressing room. Ricky shot a hand out and grabbed his bicep. "Hey, Kahnso--, sir, hey."

"Mm? Just Kahnso, it's cool. What's up?"

Ricky smiled. "Hey. Uh. I've been a good part of your crew for--, for what was it, now? Like two years?"

"I don't give out cash bonuses," Kahnso grimly said.

"What? Nah, no, no. Nah, man, I wanted to know if I could have, like, a souvenir."

Kahnso blinked. A strike of lighting made the ground shake, and the horse and fox gave each other politely surprised looks. Then the fox blurted, "Well--, I don't know, what do you mean?"

"Like, you know - your autograph!"

"My autograph," the singer chuckled, laying his heavy paw on Ricky's shoulder. "What's in it for me?" Ricky just blinked, lips pursed. Kahnso tutted and shook his head. "That's what I figured. You get an autographed glossy and it goes up on eBay five minutes from now - I don't think so. But thanks for the cigarette, buddy."

When the door closed in his face, Ricky grumbled, "Douchebag."

--2

By the time the concert was underway, Zach was happy to have his friends distracted. As much as he had liked their company on the weekend of his birthday, what he didn't like was how they lumped drunk attention on him - because they, like he, were all gay. When they were sober, they respected him and didn't make him uncomfortable. With alcohol in their veins, it was another story.

Zach cautiously made his way to the front of the crowd. Everyone was watching the strutting, leather-clad beast on stage, some listening to his angrily soulful rock and roll, others just enjoying the eye candy. Zach was in both camps. Kahnso was one of his favorite singers, and getting to be here and now for a show - with a backstage pass - was a going-to-college gift from his friends. The only problem he had was working up the nerve to actually go backstage.

As Zach's friends liked to encourage him by saying, he shouldn't have been so bashful. He saw himself as fat and nerdy, and he wore long hoodies and baggy shorts to hide himself. His friends tried to tell him what people really saw: an incredibly desirable young man with a gifted ass, the hips of a true sissy boy, and a cute face; but Zach could only see himself as a short, fat mouse.

Off at the margins of the crowd, near bouncers guarding the way backstage, Zach lingered uncomfortably. He tried to look casual and calm, as if he enjoyed being right next to a bank of speakers where the distortion was at its worst and the bass could shake fillings loose. In the confusion provided by the noise, one of the bouncers approached Zach undetected, though stealth wasn't his intent. He touched the mouse's shoulder and made him shriek. The embarrassing sound was lost under the din of the music and the crowd.

You want to go backstage? the bouncer, a grimy biker-looking wolf, mouthed to Zach. Maybe he was actually talking aloud, but if he was, it made no difference.

It took Zach a moment to remember how to read lips. The wolf repeated himself, enunciating more slowly, and Zach nodded vigorously, mussing his pretty, mildly gothy hair.

--3

"Then I asked the prick for his autograph. He said I was gonna sell it online or some shit," Ricky bitched. "You believe that shit? Shit, as if his name's worth even ten bucks."

"If his name ain't worth shit, why do you want it so bad, dude?"

Ricky grumbled. "Shut the fuck up, Bradley. And what, pray tell, is this?"

Purposelessly, Zach ambled up to Ricky and the other roadies, the three of them smoking cigarettes and grousing together. "Uh, hello."

"Backstage pass, huh? You waitin' to see the big man?" Bradley sniggered, showing his teeth, busted and ugly from brawls. He wasn't a very attractive tiger. "Maybe you're carryin'..."

The stallion laughed at that. "Yeah, that'd be about right, huh?"

"Kuh--, carrying? Carrying what?"

"You know," Ricky puffed smoke from his nostrils, "drugs. Coke, smack, whatever he's into this week." He snickered and paced around the bottom-heavy rodent, pausing to give his ass a smack. Zach flinched and gasped. "I see just where you'd hide it, too."

"Please don't touch my butt," Zach whined.

"Why not?" the twink horse asked, sneering. "And hey, maybe I wouldn't if it didn't stick out so far. Christ."

Suddenly the music came to a stop, the final note of the encore, and the crowd was electric, sounding like white noise so far into the stadium. The roadies and Zach listened intently, and then they heard Kahnso's voice clearly: "Thank you, Orlando! Go rock your bitches and good night!"

"All right, man, I'm gonna fuck off. He always hits me up for my weed after he's done with a show," Bradley murmured. The third roadie, a hyena whose voice Ricky couldn't even remember, wandered off with the tiger.

"Looks like you're gonna meet Kahnso soon," Ricky disdainfully said. "Try not to be a total crybaby."

Zach wrung his palms. "I'm not a crybaby. I'm not."

"Su-u-ure."

--4

Kahnso dropped his sweaty loincloth on the floor and slumped into his chair, putting himself in the way of two oscillating fans which tousled his black hair and cooled the sweat in his fur. He closed his eyes, and sleep began to tug at him. When he heard voices, he sighed and rubbed his left temple.

"Yeah, yeah, but he's probably too tired for this shit." Kahnso recognized Ricky's voice. Frowning, he stood up and defied his protesting muscles. As soon as Ricky rapped on the door, Kahnso opened, startling the horse, making him yank back his fist. "Uh, hey," Ricky said, glancing down at Kahnso's naked groin. "Huh."

"As if you never seen a guy naked before," Kahnso grunted. "What exactly am I too tired for, besides your annoying shit right now?"

Answering his own question, Kahnso saw Zach lingering in the hall, hands down in his hoodie's deep pockets. The singer lashed his bushy tail, then slid his fingers through his hair. "Lemme guess," he said dryly. "You want an autograph?"

"Hah, I told him you don't do that shit," Ricky proudly said.

"Not for the fucking help, no," Kahnso said, his snout aimed at the mouse, his eyes looking aside at Ricky, whom began to scowl. "C'mon, kid, get in here."

Zach looked apologetically at Ricky on his way around the prettyboy horse. Ricky grumbled and kicked the wall, but as soon as the door shut in his face, he put his ear to it.

"Sit down, kid," Kahnso breezily said, pouring two glasses of bourbon. "What's your name? How'd you like the show?"

As he demurely sat on the edge of Kahnso's couch, Zach introduced himself in a tone to match his shyness. Then he said, "It was good. You were really, really... You know, really good."

Kahnso chuckled, pushing one of the drinks on Zach. "Really, really, really good? I'll drink to that. Cheers, kid."

The rodent looked at his bourbon as if there were a roach in it. "I don't drink. I'm sorry."

Following an exasperated noise, Kahnso downed his two fingers of bourbon before making himself decent with sweat pants. "You, ah," he chuckled and glanced aside at the boy, "you wanted an autograph, didn't you?"

Zach managed a cute, genuine smile. "I did, yeah." His whip tail swished.

"Then you gotta prove you're not a pussy, first." He mimed tossing one back. "Come on, drink with me."

Timidly, Zach sipped once, then again. "It's, um, good. I think," he said with a patently forced smile. "Thanks."

On the other side of the door, Ricky sneered and thought: fucking pussy, what a chump!

"Yea-a-ah, this is cute and all, kid, but I'm not making my mark for some baby who can't handle a drink." To the rodent's souring face, he cordially said, "Nice meeting you, Zach, and that's a damn nice ass, but I think we're done here."

"Ah, god, wait, wait, wai-i-it," Zach whined. "For one," he held up a finger, "just--, just don't bring up my butt, okay?"

Kahnso blinked. "Why? You got the fattest ass I've seen all year," he cackled. "I could bongo those fuckin' cheeks."

"Just don't talk about it!" Zach puffed. "And for second--, um, is it second or secondly?" He dramatically moaned, "Oh my god, am I drunk?"

Smiling impishly, Kahnso pried Zach's drink away from him. "I'd better cut you off before you get too fucked-up, yeah. Go on, now, what was it you were gonna say?"

"Second, secondly, ummm. Um."

"Um, um, ummm," Kahnso droned, letting his eyes go vacant.

Zach frowned. "Please. Look. I can... Earn an autograph from you, I think." He swished his long, fleshy tail and seemed to recede into his hoodie. "I could suck you off." Outside, Ricky rolled his eyes.

"A little sucky-sucky, huh," Kahnso sneered before knocking back Zach's mostly unmolested drink. Though his answer was implicit when he started to pull down his sweat pants, Zach didn't get up until he said, "Sure, kid, that sounds good."

Ricky had disliked Zach from the start, and jealousy tipped him over the edge. He took a breath and tried to look at his situation as logically as he could. Just wait until he's done. He's a pussy, just take it from him afterward. It was simple. But he pressed his ear to the door again, and the longer he listened, the more he wanted to make a scene. It proved too much to ask for a hot-blooded young stallion to take indignity lying down. He banged his fist on the door, making it shudder.

"Eh, shit," Kahnso grumbled, nudging Zach back. Just a few inches of his pointed, red rocket were bared, but they were wet with drool. Zach, kneeling before him, blushed and froze at the thought of being seen in such a compromising position. "Who the fuck is it?"

"Ricky, man! Open up, some shit's, uh," he grinned, "about to go down right now!"

Kahnso looked down at Zach's flushed face. "Kid," he quietly said, "I'm aching. Open the door up."

"But--!"

"Do what you're fucking told, pussy." When the rodent moved shyly to the door, Kahnso followed his gently swaying rear. He chuckled in his meager buzz and shook his head. "Fuck me, that's a nice, fat ass. You wanna sit on my face?" Zach groaned and unlocked the door.

With a snort, Ricky muscled Zach backwards and shoved the door shut, making it rattle in its frame again. "Kahnso, dude." He hooked his thumb at Zach and grunted, "What gives?"

Kahnso blinked and showed his outstretched palms. "What? I was just having my dick sucked, and maybe gettin' some boypussy."

"Yeah, well," Ricky waved it off and glanced at Zach, whose blanched expression said he just wanted to stop existing at that particular moment. "Christ, man, I've been wanting an autograph since I first fucking heard you sing! I woulda sucked your dick or grabbed my ankles if I knew that was all it took!"

"I should go-o-o," Zach murmured, brushing past Ricky. In what smacked of mafia dealings, Kahnso snapped his fingers and pointed severely at the mouse; Ricky grabbed Zach by the bicep and hauled him close to the rockstar. "Whuh--, what now?"

"You started on something, aren't you gonna finish it?" Kahnso quietly asked. "I do not like being teased, bitch."

"Look, um, just look," _Zach whimpered, looking from Ricky to Kahnso. "I don't even want an autograph anymore, I just want to go home, okay? _Please?"

Kahnso scratched his heavy balls. "Whatever, you don't want my mark, but I still want my nuts busted." He snapped his fingers again, but pointed at Ricky this time. "Ricky, baby, you still want that autograph?" he sneered.

The stallion chuckled. "Yeah. What do I gotta do?"

"You just gotta help me," Kahnso paused and sucked his bottom jowl, perusing Zach, "have my evil way with this fine, fat-assed mousy boy here, and I'll get you what you need. Sound good?"

"Oh my god," Zach gasped, starting to cry.

"What, like," Ricky smiled absently, flicking his tail, "help you rape him? That's pretty heavy."

"Basically. Hold him down, keep his mouth shut, take care of him afterward." He shrugged. "Them's the breaks."

Zach looked pleadingly at Ricky, trembling in the horse's grip. Ricky rubbed the mouse's arm with his thumb, slowly looking Kahnso's way. He smiled. "You wouldn't have to rape him if he weren't a fuckin' tease. I'm in."

Acting on his own but well within Kahnso's expectations, if the singer's smile was anything to go by, Ricky undressed the mouse. He started with the hoodie, baring a flawlessly girly torso dotted with freckles just visible through the fur. Detracting from this physical perfection was the way he started to blubber and sob.

"Damn, you're a real sissy under those emo clothes," Ricky cooed, flicking one of Zach's stiff nipples. The mouse pulled back and covered them with his hands, and he looked at Kahnso with deeply pleading, wet eyes - but he only saw the rockstar's shoulder blades.

Following a long nasal suck, Kahnso flopped back in his chair and gripped the armrests tightly. Zach and Ricky both watched, sickened and curious, respectively, as the rockstar sat dormant. Suddenly he stood straight up, forgetting altogether how sore his overlarge body was. He wiped a smear of powder off his nose and looked down at the quaking mouse. "Get your pants off. Let's see that big ass."

"I thought--, I thought I was just gonna--," Zach blubbed, still hiding his nipples. With only a glance and a nod from Kahnso, Ricky sprung into action as the enforcer, yanking down the squeaking mouse's shorts to bare his briefs.

"These too?" Ricky asked, down on one knee and holding the waistband of Zach's briefs.

"Yeah. Get 'em off," Kahnso sniggered, and he watched Ricky do exactly that, even forcing the rodent to step out of his bottoms. Zach tried to keep his briefs away from the stallion, and failing that, he made an effort to take them back, but Ricky smacked his hands and kept the clothing.

"Give those back, puh--, please! Please, I don't like this, I hate having my butt naked," Zach groaned, trying to pull his briefs out of Ricky's hands, stretching the waistband enormously.

"Aw, you poor widdle baby, you want these back?" mocked Ricky in sugary baby talk, dangling the underpants just out of the short rodent's reach. When Zach took the bait and said yes, Ricky grinned at Kahnso, then thrust them into the boy's open maw. Suddenly Zach didn't seem to want them anymore, and he fought to spit them out, but Ricky packed them in deep and held his snout shut.

Watching Zach cry and pull on Ricky's wrist, Kahnso brayed with the laughter of a bully. "You must've beat up some nerds in your day, eh, Ricky?"

"A few here and there," the horse chuckled. "It's what they got for playin' D&D." Staring intensely into Zach's eyes, he hissed, "I'm gonna let go of your face now. But hey - you spit those out, and I'm gonna replace 'em with my dick. Got that?" Since Zach didn't immediately spit out his impromptu gag, it seemed that he understood. Ricky patted his head.

It came as a rude surprise to Zach when Kahnso knelt behind him. He tried to turn and keep his ass away from the rockstar, but Kahnso forcibly turned him back with his big, powerful paws, and then he started groping and kneading the flawless, freckled, and pudgy curves. They were so thick that they filled out his paws, and so plush that he could dig his fingers in. Zach cried and let out his muffled sobs, but Kahnso didn't care. He pulled apart Zach's cheeks and admired the pink pucker between them. "Nice fuckhole," he thoughtfully said. "It's too bad you don't wanna let this happen, kid. You really do have one hell of an ass."

"You should see how much he's crying," Ricky said, staring right into the mouse's eyes. "Like he thinks I'm gonna help him or something..."

"Well, aren't you?" Kahnso scoffed, peering around the mouse's wide ass with a grin and gleaming fangs. "It's the moral, upstanding thing to do."

"Yea-a-ah, about that," the horse laughed. "Giving teases what they deserve and being," he rolled his eyes, "morally upstanding are mutually exclusive, near as I can tell."

Still grinning malevolently, Kahnso nosed Zach's pliable ass, moving to the top before dragging his tongue down across the curve of a cheek. Just when it seemed Zach might have been making peace with the idea, he bit the cheek where it hung over the thigh, and the rodent flinched into Ricky and cried out through his underwear. Ricky laughed and shoved him back against Kahnso.

Kahnso rose, feeling pain in his knees despite the coke. He patted Zach's rear then started rummaging through his desk. "Hey Ricky, you hung?"

"Like a horse."

"Har-har. Well, whip that thing out, let little faggo here see what he's gonna be choking on once he's done sucking the sweat out of his own underwear."

Ricky couldn't help but laugh. As he undressed, slipping out of everything and not just his bottoms, he tutted, "Christ, you want to choke him to death?"

Kahnso came back with two items: lube and his belt. At the same time, Ricky was sliding down his jeans and boxers to expose himself. His big, black horse meat stood semi-hard, getting harder all the time. Pre oozed from its piss slit and ran down the shaft. It was big even for a stallion's cock when you considered Ricky's girlish figure.

The unfortunate mouse was as terrified of Ricky's cock as he was of the belt. Once again, he started to really cry, and he spit out his drool-soaked briefs so he could blubber and gasp as he backpedaled, putting himself deeper in Kahnso's dressing room. "Oh my god, oh--, oh no!" he sobbed, bumping the bed, gracelessly stumbling because of it. "Don't beat me, please...!"

"I'm not gonna beat you, dumbshit," the coked-up singer groaned, though the thought was intriguing the more he bounced it around. He cornered Zach in short order and grabbed him by his arm, and the mouse began to scream. Ricky lunged in with intent to make him quiet, but Kahnso swiftly handled the matter when he smacked the boy across the cheek, employing an open palm. Zach shrieked, then stood both largely still and silent, save for trembles and tiny gasping breaths.

Kahnso pushed Zach face-down into the bed and noosed the belt snugly around his wrists. Once he had the mouse in bondage, he grabbed his fat ass cheeks and held them tight, indicating them to Ricky with a flick of his snout. "For Christ's sake, Ricky, would you just look at this ass," he laughed. "Like a couple of melons under a blanket. This little homo almost needs a bra for 'em."

"Suh--, sto-o-op," Zach miserably whimpered. "Stop making fun of my butt..."

"Hush up, fatass," Ricky sneered, clearly enjoying the mischief. "Hey Kahnso, man, you got a hairbrush?"

The fox blinked. "Why? Uh, yeah. I mean, your hair looks all right."

Ricky patted Kahnso's hip and smiled dryly. "It's not for my hair."

Quietly and pitifully, Zach whined into the bed, "Oh, god."

By the time Ricky found a brush tangled with Kahnso's long black hairs, the fox still hadn't figured it out. The stallion shooed Kahnso's groping paws off of Zach's ass and, with sudden ferocity, cracked its hard, wooden back against the rodent's behind. The sound of the smack was so savage that it made the rockstar grimace. Zach reacted as to be expected - by screaming into the bed with tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Goddamn! Lemme try!" Kahnso laughed, stealing the brush from Ricky. Grinning enormously and kneeling on the bed, he lit up the other cheek, making it dent and ripple around the brush. Zach screamed then into the air, the sound long and desperate. Kahnso hissed, "Shut him the fuck up, Ricky."

"Ah, yeah, hold on." The twink horse scooted across the bed and grabbed the back of Zach's head, then uncertainly held his short snout closed. "Heh, I'm not putting my dick in his mouth right now, you know what I mean?"

The fox smiled slyly. "Pussy." Ricky flipped him off. "You know, I never was much into spanking," Kahnso thought aloud before bringing the brush down again. Zach's already reddened ass grew tighter under the fur, and the rodent squealed out of his clamped maw. Kahnso dragged his tongue over one of his fangs consideringly, and then he smacked Zach again, and again, and again still. It surprised him that no matter how much he spanked the rodent, his reactions never lessened. He laughed and said, "No diminishing returns, not bad."

Ricky bit his lip and snickered. "I'm surprised he's not bloody... Is that what you're going for?" Zach whined pitifully.

"Mmm, nah. Ju-u-ust lightin' him up a little bit," the singer tutted, and he smacked the mouse again. By then he had lost track of which cheek he'd beaten more, and it was so hard to tell from a visual inspection, for one mark bled over into the next, and the boy's perfectly round ass was a mess of reddened skin. It was clear to see in Kahnso's evil little smile, and in the way which he fondled himself, that he was fully invested in the sadism.

Every sickening crack of the hairbrush caused Zach to flinch and buck. The pain was indescribable, something he could define only in awkward comparisons. He knew that his cheeks were bruised, but that tenderness was hidden under tight-as-canvas flesh made pinkish-red from broken blood vessels. In his mind, he had an exaggerated picture of his ass red and swollen like the colorful display of a baboon.

"Kahnso, man! Uh," Ricky awkwardly laughed, "you wanna fuck him now?"

Kahnso wasn't listening. He kept beating Zach's ass. The term spanking no longer applied to that level of brutality - it was a beating. From the intense, coked-up look in his eyes, Ricky guessed rightly that Kahnso would have kept going for as long as the blow stayed in his system, but the hairbrush's role in the spanking suddenly ended: the hard wood came apart under Kahnso's latest swing. It didn't fly into pieces, but its split made it into a spiky, gradual V. Kahnso and Ricky both stared at the shattered hairbrush in awe, contemplating it over the muted sounds of Zach's blubbering.

"Jesus Christ, man," Ricky breathed.

"Cheap piece of shit," Kahnso grunted, disgusted. He tossed the brush away and grabbed the lube. In the thrill of the beating, he had reached his full erection - sixteen terrifying inches with Zach's name on it. Smearing on his lube, he soberly asked Ricky, "What exactly are you gonna do with this kid when we're done?"

The horse blinked. "Um. I dunno, man. Drive him out to the country?" he offered.

"And what?" He squirted on more lube and smeared it around. "Murder him?"

Zach began to hyperventilate. He tried to scream and tug his wrists apart, instead garroting them with the belt. Ricky shook him by the snout and grunted. "No! I mean, well--, no! Did you want me to? Holy shit, man!"

Kahnso paused. "No, I don't want him dead. Just be resourceful, you little shit," he puffed, straddling Zach's chubby thighs. He flopped his cock down against the mouse's ass crack, and that alone caused the rodent to moan in misery. "Do whatever you want, short of killing him. Make sure this shit doesn't come back around to me," he severely remarked, grabbing Zach's cheeks, prying them apart. As his fingers dug in, the mouse's entire body shuddered. The reddened cheeks throbbed horrifically in Kahnso's paws.

"Okay. All right, man, shit. Okay," Ricky murmured, a little shaken, but watching Kahnso's work with the utmost fascination. The singer's pointed canine cocktip notched into Zach's anus, and from there he pushed forward almost lovingly - the operative word being almost. It didn't seem to matter how slowly he went, however: Zach warbled in pain and his tail flopped from one side of his body to the other.

Anyone more concerned with their partner's well-being wouldn't have made them take so much cock in one unbroken push, but Kahnso was demonstrably interested only in busting a nut. As better than half of his meat disappeared into Zack's demure asshole, he cooed, "You gonna fuck him too, or what? Bet our dicks'll meet in the middle."

Ricky snickered and eased off of Zack's snout. The mouse groaned out of his freed mouth and quivered, "Don't hit me anymore."

"That part of the show's over," Kahnso brightly said. "Ricky, get your dick in there. The only sound I wanna hear from this fatass little rodent is gurgling."

Fluffing himself, Ricky chuckled, "Sure, I can go for that. But," he said, glancing down at Zach's wet eyes, "if he bites me, I might have to kill him anyway."

Coming on the heels of a hot, short moan as his knot kissed up against the suffering mouse's asshole, Kahnso said, "Oh, I agree. There's some shit you just don't get away with." Leaning over Zach and putting much of his muscular weight on the mouse, he asked, "Do you get that, fatass?"

"Yes! Yes, I get it!" Zach squeaked. "I won't--, I won't bite, or tell anyone - just, please!"

At just over half-mast, Ricky pushed his flaring cockhead against the mouse's lips. "Suck it on down," he grumbled. "You were gonna blow him. Don't act like you can't do it to me instead."

Zach opened his mouth, and as Ricky entered, a sad groan escaped. He looked up the horse's slender body with bloodshot, crying eyes. Ricky avoided the gaze and put his hands on the rodent's head. "Mmh. Nice tongue. Now suck on me."

At the same time as Zach obliged, Kahnso pulled his fat cock back halfway, then bucked it back inside. His knot collided with the mouse's asshole, the flesh of which was beginning to swell; but the real pain came from the way the rockstar's hips spanked the red, blistering flesh on Zach's ass cheeks. He squealed around Ricky's cock and cried out from the sides of his mouth. The tears ran down his cheeks, and he snuffled and snorted inelegantly through his congested nose.

Kahnso braced one paw on the bed and the other on Zach's shoulder, grinding the girly boy into the sheets. Prostate stimulation made the rodent hard, but there was no pleasure to it. His toes curled only in reply to the pain, a way to grit himself against so much discomfort and indignity. There was nothing to enjoy.

The singer, however, plainly loved the mouse's ass. He cooed through shallow breaths, and he briefly let his tongue dangle slack, dribbling spittle into Zach's hair. In contrast to Ricky's idle pelvis as Zach awkwardly sucked the foremost inches of his cock, Kahnso worked into a powerful, and soon to be energetic rhythm. His muscles were tired and overtaxed, but the blow made him nearly impervious to his own limits. He kneaded Zach's shoulder, squeezing down so hard that the bone and cartilage of the joint ground under his fingers. To Zach, becoming jaded, it was just another layer of pain.

Ricky bit his lip and flicked his highlighted tail. "Mmf. Come on. Suck, bitch," he groused. "I'm still half-chub here."

Kahnso laughed in a way both Ricky and Zach could only define as evil. "Want me to donkey punch him? Might make him gulp on you, anyway."

"Fuck, man, you'll kill him," Ricky admonished, shaking his head. "Chill out."

Although he put down his bared fist, Kahnso only got rougher with Zach's ass, pounding his pucker with rapid, severe movements. Under the constant pummeling from Kahnso's knot, Zach's asshole had become bruised and, as a result, very swollen. Had the singer stopped then and there, Zach would have been left with an asshole that, after it recovered from its gape, would have been cute and pillowy to match the abused cheeks that hid it. But Kahnso kept going well past the point of no return, crushing Zach's chubby ass under his heavy, hard hips over and over again.

Over the repetitive smack-smack-smack his hips drummed on Zach's rear, Kahnso griped, "Where'd your _fucking balls go? I thought you were all for this shit. Gettin' too real for you, _man?"

Ricky flared his nostrils. "I just don't think you oughta bash his brains in," he said as mildly as he could, which under the circumstances left his voice with quite an edge. By then he had fallen almost completely flaccid, his cock retreating into its sheath. He began to pet Zach's head, rubbing gently through his hair.

"Whatever, pussy. You're gonna be next if that's how you are," Kahnso shuddered. The sudden quiver in his voice was matched by an awkward quality in his bucking. Every move became stilted, but stronger. He brayed pleasurably and his long, bushy tail lashed through the air. "Oh, fuck... _Fu-u-uck, _Goddamn, you got such a nice ass, kid," he moaned, speaking with the utmost sincerity. Zach, by then, seemed to be done reacting to the remarks.

By the time Kahnso started to wrench his knot into Zach, the stallion was utterly soft and the mouse's mouth was free; but for his own sake, Zach bit on the sheets to stifle himself, fearing violence otherwise. And as Kahnso worked the big bulb of his knot inside, Zach's precaution paid off, because he screamed. It was impossible not to. The fox's knot entered him with the graceless idiocy of a fist. His swollen anus somehow didn't tear as it was reamed open, but the agony more than made up for the lack of blood.

At the moment Kahnso began to shoot, his knot was halfway inside of Zach's asshole, embedded in its helpless ring. He groaned loudly, tongue hanging from his maw, and then he slumped forward, crushing Zack under his giant body. The knot slipped inside of the boy, bringing some relief to his pucker which then gulped awkwardly behind the dense gland. That Kahnso was orgasming into him seemed to be of little concern to the mouse, whom only whimpered and sniffled through his stuffy nose.

_"Mmmh. _Fuck me. So good," Kahnso sighed, draped over top of Zack, whose body mostly disappeared under the rockstar's greater size. "You want sloppy seconds, Ricky?"

"Uh, nah. I'd rather just, uh, get all this shit over with."

"Suit yourself, candy-ass," the singer sneered.

--5

Ricky put the car in park and glanced at Zach. He had never seen the look in person, but he knew when he looked at the mouse that Zach had the thousand-yard stare. At a loss, he touched the rodent's hand, prompting him to flinch and squeak.

"Um. I'm sorry, for everything I did tonight."

"Oh," Zach said.

"Do you--, uh. Do you want the autograph? The glossy?" Desperation tinted his voice. He was searching for some way to absolve himself.

"No. Not really. Um," Zach drew a careful breath and unclipped his backstage pass, "you can have this. I don't care what you do with it."

The horse set the badge with the glossy: a handsome black-and-white bust of Kahnso, freshly signed Nice fat ass, baby! --Kahnso. When he put his hands back on the wheel, he drummed awkwardly on it. "Do you-u-u, uh, want me to take you somewhere else? I mean. I can drive you home. You said it's only a couple hours."

Zach leaned on the door and looked at the bus station. The terminal was dark, lit now and then by flashes of lightning. "Are you going to hurt me anymore?"

"No!" Ricky blurted. "Ah, god, no. For shit's sake. I don't know what got into me," he murmured, looking down at the glossy again. Seeing Kahnso's sneering face on it made him want to crumple it up. He did exactly that and chucked it out on the street in a wad with Zach's badge. "Let's just get you home."

"All right," Zach nodded. The wide-hipped mouse shifted in his seat and winced, then said, "Thank you."

An hour into the two-and-a-half hour drive, Ricky's phone rang. The ringtone was a snippet of one of Kahnso's bluesy rock songs, featuring some crooning about a woman. "I'm gonna change that as soon as I can," the horse self-consciously said. "Ah, shit, and guess who it is," he sighed, answering it. Zach looked out the passenger window.

"Ricky, listen," Kahnso said before the horse even greeted him. "Get rid of that little pansy somewhere and come on back, would you?"

"Uh, well," the horse kept his eyes on the road and his hoof steady on the gas, "I'm taking him home now."

Kahnso scoffed. "Home? What the fuck? Just leave his faggot ass on the road somewhere! Get your ass back here!"

"Look, man," Ricky groaned, "the concert's over, I'm supposed to be off now anyway. I'm just taking him home. He won't--," the horse glanced at Zach's stony face in profile, "there's not gonna be any problems. I'm only taking him home."

The edge in Kahnso's voice informed Ricky that he had topped up on blow since they last saw each other. He barked, "Get the fuck back here, Ricky! I need someone I can trust. Listen. Listen, buddy. I've got this bitch here. She's a MILF, right? But her daughter's like fifteen - what kind of dumb bitch brings a girl that young to see me?" he laughed.

"So--, Jesus, man. Just, like, tell the girl to wait outside, I guess?" Ricky blurted, getting Zach's mild interest.

"No, no. I want the girl, and she wants me. No, see, I need you to here to like, fuck her mom and keep her away." The rockstar chuckled. "Come on, man. Like, here's the best part: they're mares. You ought to see the fuckin' jugs on the mom, you could totally titfuck this slut."

"Fuck, Kahnso, just fuck," Ricky moaned. "I'm not helping with that shit. Enough was enough with the mouse guy. No more sex stuff, I mean it. You can be a pedo on your own time."

What came next was so profoundly loud, foul, and repetitive that Ricky took the phone away from his ear, but still, both he and Zach could hear the rant clearly. Eventually the singer, whom by then had spittle flying from his mouth and undoubtedly sported a bulging vein on his forehead, exclaimed, "And if you're gonna fucking pussy out on me now, then you're out of a fuckin' job! Don't come back, you piece of fucking shit! I mean it! You hear me!? Don't come back or I'll saw your fucking head off!!"

Ricky hissed into the phone, "Yeah, no fucking problem, you psycho asshole! Get some help, you bastard!" He jammed his finger into the end button so hard that the plastic crunched.

Silence for the best part of twenty minutes made the air in the car stagnant. Zach shifted painfully in his seat, then asked, "Are you okay?"

"What? Uh, god, I don't know. Being a roadie was all I had going on, it was like my religion. Now I got no place to sleep, no job, nothing. So, I guess no, I'm not okay." He testily concluded, "All right?"

"I'm sorry," Zach said quietly. "I, um. I can't say I don't blame you, for earlier, I mean. You know that."

"Yeah, I know that," the horse sighed.

More silence, more poignant than ever, lasting well past the hour mark. Zach broke it up when he said, "We're almost there now. Turn off the highway here. This exit."

"Right," Ricky murmured. A little more silence, then he asked, "Zach. Hey. Can I, uh--, would you trust me if I crashed at your place...?"

"What?" the mouse blurted. "You helped someone rape me," he shuddered.

"I have nothing now. My home, if you wanna call it that, is like three thousand miles away. Please, man, I don't even have the money for a crackhead motel room. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'll never hurt you again, that's not me, it was just--, goddammit, man, I'd been wanting to buddy up to Kahnso for years."

Zach hugged himself and closed his eyes. "I guess you can sleep in my floor. For one night." He paused, and exhaled. "But no jokes about my butt."

Ricky couldn't help but smile at the mouse's priorities. In the dark, Zach thankfully didn't see the expression. "Yeah. No problem, man. Nothing about your butt, I promise."

"Mmm. Yeah. You're welcome, then," Zach sighed. "Turn left here."