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Meat 'N' Greet by Eightane Original characters by Tokeki ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If I tell the truth, I'd say it's all due to my prouder times.

Keep that as a given. No matter how it started, things were what they were. Our warehouse was in disrepair. A few weeks back, and I'd have sunk my winnings into fixing up the walls, mending the frayed parts of this sanctum for our kind; the Nightrow's pad had seen better days. All the shambles in just a few weeks' time... Amazing what a wet climate and focus other places can let in. Now there were no winnings to put down... Even if not for losing my ass a few times in the forum of a public ring, Flip had took me to the cleaners. His barbed tongue had mocked me in the dankest corners while he played my ego and drew me right to a loss.

I could still feel the sting when I leaned up out of bed at dawn. Sure as the morning wood that stood under covers.

All the same, I'd never let it stay there... And I hadn't. It took some prodding at the gym and a phone call but I talked him into a rematch, provided I "don't lie that it erased the first loss." Jackass. But with his crow's feet and his wide, sturdy back in my memory's view, I forgave and told him it's a deal.

The deats, though, they had extras to them. Life outside of our spicier hobbies was a dumb grind, and I'd been the one to suggest this. "How about you bring along that crew of yours you're always braggin' on? I hear good-after-good about 'em while you've held the sandbag and scratched yerr ass."

He scoffed, in style. But the type that means I'd hooked his interest, and I'd soon be shaking hands with the guys he ran with, pinned down or practiced by. Now it was closing time, and my new beginning came from some other thick sweaty bonecrusher's end. It walked through the door he wrenched open, two hunks of meaty flesh in a firm cleave for a geezer like him; his smile carried through the warehouse, a guest in our men's club. His hands were already curling in and back out. He wanted to grip me and squeeze the fight right outta me. But I was sharp as a tack that day... I'd just finished cleaning up, prepping the place for company, mind and body focused so well I could feel it when my breath moved my crop of chest fuzz. That hardlined focus would get him under me, leg up in my fists, begging to get amnesty. I believed with every curled pube in my lycra, he would fall to my power.

"Heeey elder-bod, you didn't let me down." I freely jabbed, at a lean against my own tail. This voice of mine went rich the same as my spit tasted, watching his fupa stop a jiggle. He'd come up to me and its snail trail of grey found fit to stop and be hemmed in by those killer arms. I knew my bulge would change size all night, no way in hell was it otherwise. But I noticed quick today. "You're alone?"

Just then, the door slammed wide at where he'd been a second ago. I'm talkin' made-a-dent-in-the-wall, I'd have to fix it if it would shut again tonight. Neither of us scared easy, but I wouldn't be anyway; the first of his buddies came to see and be seen.

I'd never knew a tapir, not scrapped with one either. But here we had this vision of height, a hot-blooded greyskinned man with a sneer and a scar at his ear. He had a buzzcut in red, same as his pencil-stache, the colour of fire or a can of Code Red. His wife beater was white and immaculate; the shorts were sky-blue and something came within an inch of peeking out a leghole. I could already tell we'd get along like the best of foes... Like his partner behind him, another bruiser the likes of which were new and had my tongue's fork getting caught on my teeth in a moist breakdance. A blue salamander, a cold-blood like me and he showed it with the hard nipples that poked out of rough calloused scales. They were massive on this shirtless punk, wedged into a dark purple Speedo. His yellow eyes were a window to smugness; he liked starin' at me, before Flip could even gimme the lowdown.

"Toke', this is Hal in the lead and the gingerness. Behind we have Ptolemy." I couldn't say if my tailtip wagged, I couldn't feel it when I flex as deep as I did, letting veins rise out my pecs and making these abs try to clown on the sala-boy's blue washboard. But they'd never have to know quirks of my bod like that, they wouldn't get the honour of fuckin' me up. That's my job, and my neck's temp rise vowed it. They looked happy enough at this scarlet drake muscle; maybe just stoked to think the same shit about layin' me out. We late-night louts are like that.

Hal took one fist in another, and retightened the tape around his wrists. Circumference like his made KT strips stretch. "I don't do intro's." He held out one magnificent hand, furrowed from years and wounds that toughened him right. "All I'd need to know's bound to come out in the ring." I took and shook it, and fuck-me it was more than I figured. My teeth showed in slight hints. My musky pink under the tail was feelin' the solitude. It itched me with the will, alright... Hal edged right past me and looked down, gazing at either the floor or the low 'n' back of me. Ptolemy, meantime, made good on how his name got me in mind of old philosphers. He didn't have that much chin but he pawed at it, walking close, makin' circles as he pored over me like some bust in a museum. Irritated by him treating me so; at the same time heating up for causes that escaped me. I didn't try one bit to hide my eyes runnin' up his six-pack, and down, and up... You could smith metal on that fucker's stomach. He musta seen me size up that very thing too, that's when the double-fork came out. Yup, two splits on that fellow herp's tongue, and a long one to boot.

Flip snickered like a wuss when he saw my keister squirm. I scoffed and made some pun about his age, can't even remember now what it was. I flexed this chest's pair of mountains, round and perfect more than ever, hard training's work. Ptolemy wore tight chino's and this is what made visible dick line, his apple of a head growing into an airtight bulge... I heard Hal's fist sock the shit out of his chest, he was solid as steel and rarin' to bust some chops. In the very center of the ring he stood and huffed, breaths raking his soul patch of flame-red... I started to walk over, made sure to let this fuzz-top tail 'oops' across Ptolemy's legs, feelin' out the contours...

... Then a yell broke my reverie and had me nearly trip over nothing. Through the same door they came in, I saw brown fur and a hellacious pair of fangs... Wait, they weren't fangs... Teeth, on a beaver boy big as hell. More fat than muscle but he didn't skip arm day, those pythons were sick. Suspenders kept his pants on, some corduroy with a mountain in the middle and no shirt to cap it off. The belly jiggled, as he haw-haw'ed in wealthy tone. You can always spot the fun-lovers in a second. His curve did things to me, just that quick, but I didn't have the luxury of reachin' in this lycra to fondle. Not when Hal's hand came down so hard on my shoulder I felt it in my heels.

The chub had his chompers carryin' on about the rust of this place... Maybe he was rich and used to polish and petty shit? Not likely, his hokey accent sent me into chuckles. Then in behind him strolled another hot-to-trot hombre. A dingo, and damn this fucker was... Bare completely. Strolled in with it out and swingin' like it's nothing; it was anything but. Pendulous length, foreskin over tip like the thickest sock around... Goddang... I wiped my face and sniffed my pit now, and I hadn't lifted a claw.

Then Hal, that tapir cuss, took me by the other shoulder, from behind. Hiked up my arm and did the sniffing for me. I wrenched out of his grip, slower than I could've, but not before his nose drank me in, like it was wine he tested out. I kept stiff upper lip, and the hill in my garment was the same, but he said what we knew. "If we were matched up, you'd be on the floor right now tied in knots."

Yeah I knew he was right. This mob of new spar partners put me in a good bad space... The same one that had turned my win-streak into the lose-barrage I'd seen for half a month or so, but made me run through tissues and Gun Oil when I staggered home those nights. It wouldn't go that way today, my ass would make sure of it.

Standing with focus, looking over the beaver, he walked right up and shook Flip's hand before mine. I guessed they hadn't seen each other in a spell... He faked me out after, by going for my hand then reaching out and clamping on my left pec... He couldn't grab it tight when all this blue carpet made it slip away. Another hillbilly laugh from him, and gods knew I was feeling his charisma. He shook in that two-ton belly and had a shine in the lights over us, already sweatier than me in my fidgets. Betting he always was, and always put off that aroma... Up close it was like Fritos and ballsweat. I didn't say a word about why that made my pisshole prominent, stretching lycra, about as decent as that nude dog from the land of Ark'.

Flip had the duo to his right and left, gripping them low; we were starting this like shame was a liability. "'Santa Claus' here is Jesse, I met him clearin' storm damage when that hurricane came up Georgia. And my swingin' bud here's Ali... If you don't watch yourself, he'll bury you. Best pins in the postal code."

"Oh yeah?" I said with skepticism, fanning the tussle vibes. "If I gotta iron a shirt, I'll look you up." I chucked his hip; it made the package wobble longer than Jesse could keep his laugh goin' through pleasured sigh. Ptolemy had entered the ring behind me; he and Hal showed why they got here first, practicing with grunts and the sound of skin slapping, while I had to watch the door and more coming through it. I wished so bad to turn around and watch how they fought, but I'd know soon, and it was cheating, right? ... Nah I'd find out their moves and techniques the gentlemen's way. Flip and Jesse caught up, and Ali shuffled (just to make it sway I'm sure, the hot bastard), while the newest new dudes slipped right in there.

A capuchin. Biiiig boy for his kind. I hadn't seen one in ages, but that flufffaced primate brought on all the knowledge I'd forgot. They were limber guys. Arms like trailing vines but thicc as my core and my attention on him. Sharp dresser, too, from the pinstriped collared shirt and black slacks. He'd trimmed that ape mane into mutton chops and one hell of a goatee, but more important, he had lean wiles and limbs for miles. I knew if I got to take him on, I'd have to keep him from reaching on me or I'm done, son. In behind him ran a last latecomer...

.... This fella sprinted around him, walked right in front and guffawed. A rottweiler/malamute mixed. Male as they come, his body struck that balance where everything belonged on a bulk-up mag cover and it ALL looked right together. I didn't have to see his rear to know he had the biggest butt here... It put swing in his step, a counterweight for the barrel-gut and bulge on frontward side. Deep as the capuchin's reach, Jesse the beav's snack habit, and my will to get to pounding. He was close to as nude as Ali, his fellow-woofer, save for the tiniest jockstrap I'd ever seen. Real tightness, a stain on the front that had one hue and one origin. I at last looked back to Hal and the salamander; they were wrapped in, Hal wrenched free and put his weight over the blue beefcake. It didn't take a full suplex to lay Ptolemy out, but the count would have been less than 1. Much writhing, good escapes and high growls from men who ached for this.

I already had wet at my tip when Flip walked up and named this final pair. "Our simian here's Ken, he's a twister of fists when he gets goin'. Squeals like a leaky balloon though." Ken had gotten close enough to sock him in the shoulder for it; Flip just laughed off the pain, it kept an old cuss awake and alive. "And part-rotty boy's Dante. If I told you half of what I saw him do to Ark' when they sparred last March, you'd call me a liar 'til World War 3."

I went icy in the chest. A trickled sweat on my thighs amped up, I felt it as it flowed. He'd had it out with that crusher... I yearned to know who came out on top. But the thinking sort of melted, oozed out of my mind while he stretched. Bending left and right, with every move the ass danced and jellied with fat and beef as allies. I would have NO teammates, not tonight, but if I had he'd have been the one.

Flip called out the last bit of info with sharp notes, he had to yell it over Hal and the sal's practice heats. "Here's catch-up on the rules for you fellas: One-on-One, no kicks below the belt, no tagteamin', no grabbin' chairs out the closet. Know the alphabet? Good, that's the order y' go in. Toki gets him a gauntlet to try, and you brickbones wanna see if you can take on last year's belt winner, yeah?"

Ouch. Said that way it felt like a lifetime ago, but they all recalled the golden hits and throws that meant victory, and my spot on the late local news... If it's THAT Toki they were here to turn it on, they're in luck. I cracked my neck and stuck thumbclaws behind my speedo, adjustin' to get it maxed for roominess. These fucko's were gonna find out why I'm down but not out, and half the time not even down.

I heard a *THOOMP*. We all did. Ptolemy had hit the ground hard, after Hal turned his Facebuster around on him with the legs of a demigod. Blue body got heaved forth and slammed, and he even slid on his back 'til he lay under Flip's feet. Big ol' tig looked down in stunned quiet, until his lips leaked "Bengay's in the kitchen cabinet, just so's you're savvy." Half the dudes paused to laugh it out, and Hal reached to pull his test-frienemy up and check the back's gristle. It was scratched up good, nothing worse. Ptolemy didn't flinch; looked even smilier now. Goddang if I didn't throb inside the cupless yellow, they saw this unit striving to bust out and I saw how their mugs locked on it and then went to my dragon snout, smoke leaking out from it and up. Yes, boys, you'd be distracted; easy pickings so long as I forgot I was attached to that...

I did the 'math' in my head, with letters; Ali, that bare dingo would be first to try me. Hal cleared out from the ring and I stepped in. The austral dog ambled up. His bits still swung and taunted. I start low with lighter-weight fighters. First thing he faced when we occupied that circle was my legs out and bent, I was sumo'd with a low pose and tensed to the point you could see the heartbeat move in veins running my chest summits. Carrying for power, feeding the full depth I'd worked into being. There was a hiss from Ali, a good sigh he put some tongue through. He stayed tall and looked down, and clearly wanted me making first strike.

If I didn't take the bait, we might circle for hours. But I can write tomes on how to handle shady shit... He thought himself a counter king, let's just see if he'd ever clashed like this. I hunkered down. This tail whipped the air and cracked, I saw his ears perk up to hear it. While he flinched guessing whether it was the bones inside or just a sonic boom from a thicc red riding crop, I rushed and raised myself at the chest.

The fellas cheered, and I loved hearing a new mob of voices heap praise. One arm caught him at the shoulder, one at the hip; I picked him up and swung that front-heavy fuck into a complex piledrive. To get him there I had to half-juggle the klutz, but results were the same. Heard the best gurgle when his scalp took the damage; facing me, his fishing rod twitched in a dangle. I didn't need to ask if he liked it... My snail trail of blue got the message, his hardening was a slow press on. I stood with a smirk, ten macho tones in my ears, and his knees set at those same hear-flaps. He seethed but I couldn't catch the words, he talked to my feet.

"Might wanna watch it, welterweight" I heard Flip mock my first tester here. I laughed right along, glad to start it off with a bang... Until I felt wet and 'pull' on my toes.

So he was still upended, and I knew right off where he took this. Sucking my foot's tips. I grimaced, only since the hairs on back of my neck stood up more than his exposure. It was the beaver boy - Jesse, that cornpone - who went "Ohhhhh" like he just heard somebody's secret. I kept wits and pushed onto Ali, falling. Gettin' the best of me would be out as a choice when he dealt with my weight; hundreds of pounds down on his lungs. I hit the floor with him under, and those kneecaps shook and kicked.

They heard my chuckle, and his "Ughh"... The poor clown had more in the limbs than the gut, he paid for the lack of full workout. I had my core's front taking the risks, close on all of his. He had jerk and twitch in that meatrocket. It put my mind in other places... I shook my head quick, knowing it was forget-or-fall. Just in time, as he tried to tumble me but I held on and smothered him with fuzz that already trapped sweat.

He couldn't reach my feet now. Flip clapped to count off. Three, four, five and he kicked out, I wasn't fully-off but I let it happen. So much more I wanted to see from this digeri-dolt... When I'd been down on him, what I felt told me finesse was at-hand. I scrambled to my feet, helped by a tail's balance; it took him thrice the time to stand back tall, and not angry. He seemed like he knew, I wanted him having a real 'go' at all this.

My thanks was to have him lift those arms, max their measurements; same as the jump from verve in his cock, makin' that shroom nod. I was acting dense, knowing I was open to payback while I open-mouth stared and thought how a good choke's sweet to take. But I kept the tail going, swishes up high and in fits. It dazed a predator; when he grabbed me up, started fighting my strength and our noses scrunched in, shared air, the group rumbled nice to see us equal out. That tremor where a guy's using all his beef's got, the arteries are outlines, they got this from two mooks. I felt his hands dig in my lats. Smelled that he had steak 'n' eggs for breakfast. Saw the glint in his yellow eyes and felt Ali Jr. get wet... His tip kicked off a leak of clear.

By the time I prevailed and headbutted him to end our 'hug' I was shining-doused at my innie and down through the ocean of blue rolling out my lycra. And my own shooter bunched up the only clothing on me; it wished to play with new friends alright. Ali stumbled back, recovering from dizzy ache. Now I saw actual emotion in him. Finding it anger, I regretted.

He still grinned, however much he jumped on me the next moment. I caught "Sheeit! " from the sidelines, where Ptolemy drew out the word. Next I was turned around and slammed; fuck if I know even now how he did it all in a second or so, must have took and pushed one arm of mine before the rest of him came diving. I was down on my belly; I could hold a squirt like him but not if all my weight worked against me, and those tri's of his pushed like truncheons. That jackass dipped down and teabagged my tail's root... Like an asshole, he patted mine with the sack's suspended arc.

Jesse stuck his hand in his jeans and rummaged, blushing... I know this cuz I looked over at the fresh crop of dicks, most were out and being flogged or mutual-flogged. I couldn't stay watching Hal stroke Dante's uncut wand, or Ptolemy workin' Hal and himself underhand. I jacked my ass up, and the speed dislodged the hell outta dingodude. It would not be the shortest match ever.

When I rose, I went for the legs, my one chance to. He was already up but I picked up that buster by both gams; they were the hardest I've ever seen, good GOD he could stop a train with femurs like those. But that made 'em hot to be handlebars. By them he was hoisted up, and I roared in glee deep as how he could fuck with that thing; he struggled and flailed but couldn't reach me, except to slap at my face with musked inches. Beefstick smackin' this drake up... When I fell back and doomed him to a Double Leg Flapjack, I was huffing like hell... Keepin' his tool out and starkers didn't stop it hoarding a male's essence...

He went face-first to the mat, one without the spring of a pro' arena square. I almost heard the birds he saw. I did hear the outcry, and his nose would be a new number on the plastic surgery option wheel. Hahaha, I relish even now, that was a good way to show the rest I'd be serious biz while they thought o' my jizz. Ali rolled over, reaching for his schnozz... He stood with it hidden in a palm, eyes teared up but not weeping. He still twitched down there, and left a wet trail as he walked up to shake my hand. His grip went strong... Hella-strong, and I pulled my hand out just before the clawed red woulda fractured. Fucker was bitter, and the way he walked off I knew Flip wouldn't be counting him... What a lead-up to forfeit though. Before he left out to join the bystrokers, I tagged his back just over the crease with a slap twice as hard as he'd dickstamped my nostrils.

He groused but had a smile when he turned, right as the next soul came to battle... Fuck, it was Dante, canid with a bubble. I watched the side of it, left, right, left, right, as he lumbered on in... I felt unready, he already had a shape to look at low on me. But real men last, so this I would as he dapped me and reached back to comb his fur at the ears. His jock shimmied, I envied it, and through this rush of thoughts I kissed my knuckles and propelled this bod toward the space he took up.

My feet had been what launched me, and they wrapped his pecs like he was made in a factory for it; Never had a move been more secure, and the hunk sure didn't see the feet-version of a Winding Nut coming. I twirled half-around and yanked him down to the dirt. But he rolled out and back up... And turned a 180 to try and clothesline me. I ducked it, and my cheat-sheet of a tail slithered up the split of his cheeks. It... Got stuck.

I'd meant to wrap him up like a boa's meal, then apply some armbar while he wailed. That wouldn't happen. Instead I tried leverage to get my dragon appendange out the canyon. It felt endless, and he was friendly... He reached back and forced it out for me, while I tried to catch him with an elbow. But it was one hand he'd used to free my tail; the second one pushed me off at that same elbow and I took a tumble backward.

He knew what he had. So when I hit down on my spine, gentle enough, he jumped and let all that poundage fall on me. I found out karma's a bitch for me focusing on Ali's face... Guess where his ginormous buns attacked.

I was smothered in it. Both sides parted around my nose and it was five times tighter than the other part of me it half-ate. And he wasn't aiding me this time. I could hardly hear the fellas cut up, but I heard his snickers and sighs, his own flesh sent them to my ears with tight contact. I breathed his ass musk... Every gulp of air had to fly through that crevice to reach me. He ground it on me, I felt my lips graze his pucker, over and over... I... I lost it for such a brief time, and reached down to adjust the lycra... Then rake my hand up it and back down, doing what the chucklefucks did watching us... But I wasn't out this easy.

Marshalling my all, I made a swift move to run both mitts above his hips, claws out. He yelped like a good dog. I didn't mar that beautiful canvas, but made fresh 'tats' with two scratches at the cusp of his paunch. When I saw light again, I swear I heard Jesse joke about me givin' him wings. But he tried to press on me again, and this time I had faculties. If he wanted to stankface me, he'd just have to put up with me tonguing it, through the cotton jockpouch.

Wiggling and whine happened when I first pushed my taster up his craw... It pushed fabric up and in, one hell of a wedgie. He couldn't work while he took it, and I ate hearty for seven or so seconds before he caved and leaned sideways. I gave that ring a swirl before I launched up legs-first, courtesy of that long rear grabber we all know by now. It put me upside-down on his back; I held on and threw him over my head, and I thank heaven and hot sights that slo-mo seemed to happen right then... My mind keeps every frame of how it played out to this day, the acres of his maleness sailing over me, wobbly as air and momentum had their say.

I near-felt sorry for the lad as he yelped coming down, I think he pulled a ligament by falling on it. But I looked over, ready to mark spar-number-two off as a second win, and saw motion while his back and hearty backside faced me. He reached back, scratched his manhole, and played around for a sec. Then his straight line of verterbrae got sullied... Pockets of white showed up on it, and I heard the groans at where-from... One of our nightfighters gave it up. Ptolemy thrusted in his own hand, eyes shut, showin' off that orgasm. Painting Dante, givin' him polkadots. And the guy noticed... When he got up, held his arm, a fat fuckin' pipe had crept out the top of his skivvies. He had more dick hair than ass... I couldn't see the damn root, it was such a thicket. He stopped tending the injury. Instead he whined like the woof he was, with what I assume was the pangs of pain. I knew the feeling... After my skull had took his weight in direct-hit, the ache had me in a vigor, and harder. Pain was pleasure.

But we had a job to do, and this jobber brainstormed, how next to pull him down. During this he pursed his lips and spat a thick wad straight-down. It hit his cock and he reached for it, but didn't slick it into sheen like I would've... Only took the briefs' elastic in a thumbhold, wriggled it. Bounced the fat tool from inside its dickforest. My lycra nearly snapped. My mind did too, as I got up speed and wanted only to tackle him, get down on top of that buster whatever it meant...

... He stopped me in my tracks. Walked back three or so steps before my pace was arrested. I was raised up, and he had me higher than I'd put Ali... But an awkward throw. I went diagonal, and hit the floor half-on my side, half-the ribs. I think my 'stache curled it was such agony.

The hollering from guys-galore stung more than the toss. I knew as I moved my knees - hiding that I couldn't stay still by acting like I checked that I still had sensation - I was the show they wanted. My dickpouch failed; the lycra slipped off its friction hold and out popped my tool, pink, vascular. Diamonds weren't as hard as me after Dante put me down... I bathed in his shadow, felt drops of his salty sweat sprinkle me. Looking up through a wince, he had hands on his hips, and the plainest smile; the goofball was pure of heart in his fun, and knowing he didn't have to debase me, talk up his dominance... I would slip in my own precum when I stood back up, I just knew it.

I wouldn't know for now, the count had gotten me. Flip shouted 'Ten!' with so much gladness I wanted to sock his chin full-bore. My first loss tonight. Dante had took the match and it was swap-time. He stepped over me, but dragged his latter foot slow and low; footpad over my belly, crotch hair imparting more shadow than his dick alone did. I didn't groan but that was all the control I owned now. They had me on the not-there ropes... And after he shook hands with Hal, upside-down from my POV, I felt the jump in my heart. That tapir was just what he was, and I felt what I rarely did: fear.

I was none too broken, I could pull myself up just fine and they didn't get to see me flinch. Then he took my wrist and hiked me up the rest of the way, to my feet, to him divebombing me with face. His horn was out of sight, so close to my eyes it fit between the peripheral. I could smell the lamb and scotch from his supper.

If he could smell the nerves and view the daze I struggled through after two ordeals, that's why my asshole cinched up like a Hefty bag.

He retreated to the other side of a barely-marked ring, and I took the last fleeting safe moments to marshall myself. When he turned and stared down this contender, I showed him readiness and a set of fangs that could puncture steel. But his pecs looked harder than that. And the bulge on him... No, below the main bulge, a secondary pouch, those nuts were beacons. Canteloupes would envy them. I just realized the draft, and pulled the garment back over my tool. He'd have to work to get it out again, and from the dagger-gaze he kept, it's what he would do without question.

I couldn't have steadied enough though, for the shockwave when we met. Turns out we had like minds, as we both hit the center running and grappled by hands and shoulders. A reverse-tug-o'-war, and Jesse ate it up just outside the danger zone, that farmboy. He laughed and I lunged over the hold Hal had on my blades... God I wonder to this day why the hell I thought he'd fall under me.

Instead his red hair brushed my neck and I got swept up in a rolling carry... there's not even a name for it, just tumbling me in the air as he held me with ease the way you would a two-pound bag of sugar. But what came next is titled; he had too much knee and it translated to a Backbreaker, I mean straight from walking with me to down on one cap and using leg-two to blast my lumbars. I don't think my eyes went back un-wide for two solid minutes. I tumbled off him, spasming in pain, and while I panted to keep from a scream, I could hear the others jostle, and his zipper. I couldn't give out now; got my scalp up off the mat, but what I saw was him pulling down those shorts, lettin' them follow gravity after thigh meat let them go. Yet it wasn't sinew on those thighs that made them a challenge to shed, oh no. The fucking orbs... They had more veins than his cock, and as I tried to plant my palms and push up, he was faster. My aching back bought him the time to saunter up, crouch, and rake them over my snout. Three times the weight of what Ali'd done to my pucker. Just as much more embarrassing. Then he leaned down to push with his arms and let it fall, and they were slammed on my shnozz.

Poor nose never had a chance. I sucked in air that broiled in ballmusk, so strong it was heat in my lungs. I thought I might be a shitass and lunge, nip at one, but he rose off me just too soon. I know the guys heard me wail there, more frustrated than broke. Turned on while furious. But what he didn't know would hurt him.

My arms were just fine. One caught him at the ankle, and I only had to pick it up for his weight to lose balance... Could be that the swinging pair disrupted him, changing center-of-mass so easy. The roof rattled when he hit down in front of me, and I half-writhed as the backache pierced me on the way to pinning him. I slapped down nipple-to-nipple, my blue velvet met his red. At first he broke free, but the fool had me determined now. I stretched out from fingers-to-pit, so the latter would fan out and smother that mouth right under the horn. I doubt the men around even caught all the moves, it had to happen so fast. But now he'd done it, and I showed him what a dragon guy's armbend puts out in raw putrid steam... 2, 3, 4, and then I remembered he could bite. A yelp from me, as he chomped right past the forest into skin it grew from. This gave him egress to kick out, after 'Five' and Flip's growing apprehension was stopped. I felt cheated; the damn huge devil had done what I almost did before, but made it work. I came off but had the tail at the ready. It circled his legs, wrapped them into one another, lacing up. He was a sneaker below the waist. As sweat poured from his straining face I licked my hand and shined up my clavicles. This felt so good, it was earned. And so did what I looked at; with every stretch he tried to do against my lasso, the balls went to and fro.

"Hnngh, fuck this, Mushu." I heard the toxic in his voice, and I would laugh if he didn't try to call me another long-tailed red drake, one with 2% of my bulk. He paid a dear price, as the bind got all up on his calves, thighs, and more.

"Take your own advice, packin'-derm." My tailtip targeted his sack with push, batting it. Then tickling. He swore but what came out his mouth were sounds, not words. A big guy's cackle never stopped being nice... I played with this bulge, and only realized it could go south when he reached down and took a palmful o' my tail in his hand. He bore down with hand strength... My eyes watered.

When Flip grunted, and jettisoned that batter on his own stomach- always did like aiming it up so he could feel the heat on his gut, if a fella like me didn't catch - I throbbed in the lycra but gritted my teeth. Hal's grip, it stung. I heard a *crunch*. My tail gave way from wrapping him; I hoped they didn't hear me mewl in agony, half as much as they saw my pre-spot grow. "Daaamn he got fractured!" I heard from Ali, whose ears were keen as he was mean. I snarled, but damage was done. Hal tried to rush me. I decided I'd had enough of him and slipped around his sprint, then horsecollared him. I think his butt hit harder than his balls, but they made the bigger noise on the drop.

Before I could drink in the guys' shock and awe at me, I leapt down and brought Hal's left leg to my busom and its fuzz. Gettin' curried up the knee wouldn't take away the problems while I bent it where it doesn't go. He writhed and screamed up at me, but all it did was blow anger at my asshole. Flip took his sweet time counting off for me; I looked over and he was half-stroking his chub in afterglow. One hand did the fingers 1 through 5, then re-did it for 6 through 10.

And I made it to that last one, the first win of the night, on the biggest bruiser.

Jesse went wild like they just came out with Winston-flavour moonshine. "Houuuuu, bo'ah got him! Whut 'n' UPset !" Even Dante ribbed Hal, something about clackers and desk toys, I didn't even catch it. He panted as he twirled his dick hair in a finger, the tool was out like Hal's equipment, like Ali's everything. Hell even Flip wouldn't put his tool away, it ran white down to his spheres. Ptolemy had his girth point south in his speedo; the veins were showin' front-and-center on his Speedo, so tight and ready. I took one whisker and made circles on my thumb, smug as fug.

Beaver-boy wouldn't wait, he clapped his hands and smacked Flip's back so hard the tiger almost coughed up a lung. But I went from party-face to serious-time, this chubster held himself like no newbie. And the center of grav' would be a challenge, I saw. I put one foot out to brace, and it slipped out from under me; remember that precum I dropped earlier? Now it had me do the splits on accident. I heard the rip. I was just fine, no body harm beyond what they'd done to me before... But I came back up with a draft on the gooch, right up my backside. I knew quick that Jesse was an ass man, he licked lips around those two front teeth... His suspenders jutted when his nipples did, erect like all of us lower down. Then he belly-drummed, and I looked for signs of where he might start with me.

His knees wobbled but you wouldn't know from his thicc stability. I went first, while he seemed to still guage me; a small-time grappler was likely what history he brought, as it seemed to turn his world around that I would come in low on all-fours. I always worked best after good luck... Hyper and focused, I crawled like a millipede to under him, between both his legs. It was huge risk, he coulda clapped those feet and trapped my neck, or just fell with his fat ass and broke me. But I flipped around, leapt up and snagged his arms from behind. Then it was easy as pie to yank him back, turn a perfect 90 degrees and slam his elbow. Down hard from his own weight.

Happy-boy took it on his funny bone; the howl was like a wolf bitten, and I took this chance to lick up his neck; sweat from husky guys was always so good. He jerked arms free of me and punched backwards, my ribs took a bruise and he rolled out. No more fun and games; he was red as me when I got off the floor. Hal chuckled but rooted for him, the lone man to do so. I was called worse shit than a feather. Jesse's left suspender slipped; he tried walkin' up careful but I was ready to strike, lunging an arm to that strap freed. I could just jog around back and pull hard, slingshot him to his next fall. This worked once. He yowled, it yodeled as he stood back tall, and when I got cocky and tried a second time he caught my hand in his pit.

I was pulled in. He put his fangs at my lip. Dante barked and prob'ly thought what I did, I'd be losing somelip tonight. But no, Jesse augured tongue into my mouth. I tasted Coors and red-eye gravy. His damp arm garden held so tight my hand musta gone white... Before I knew it, his bulge pushed mine so quick it did the rest of the tearing. My lycra was a casualty... Below me it fell, and I was bare as I was wet. He reached for the tool - still trapping me in hick armpit - and gave my length pumps. He'd been watching me down there... He knew how close the other men got me, and I didn't want to go off yet. I kept it in, just barely; but being edged for six seconds, the mind had to try and think beyond. That's how he got me off-guard... And put that first arm upside my neck, worked around and got me in a Full Nelson. How the fuck did that much fat move that quick... Faster than all of us. My head hit the dirt and I saw stars... Then, I was airborne.

Six parts of me swung wide, four limbs, tail and manhood; I remember seeing triple-image of the ceiling, dazed... Then he made it a Nelson Slam. The wind he knocked out of me, I missed. The tail that got jammed up under me as I hit my butt 'n' back, I resented. When I stopped yelling, I felt it was crooked... No more using the prehensile advantage tonight. I was soon in the dark; he had ample time to step out his corduroy trousers, then throw them over my face. "Huff it, y' naked bitch." He debased me. I had to breathe, so what choice was there?

... So for what felt like minutes, I filled my lungs through the crotch of his pants. So acrid. And I heard and felt plops, light ones in a straight line... Ptolemy roared low, I knew the fucker had just shot again all down the pants I 'wore' for Jesse. I spread on the ground, splayed out, in pain. Jesse told me to munch those pants, I could only guess he wanted to see them dip as I sucked into my mouth. Rather than have him bring down his good elbow, or both heavy cheeks, I did. Nude, and drizzled with salamander sperm where the blue boy's jets missed the pants.

I felt Jesse's shadow. I now dreaded the rest, I couldn't hope to get back on top of things. But he slipped arms under and cradled me. The trousers fell off as I was lifted up, and he reduced me more, talkin' at my hurting self. "There, there. Daddy's gotcha. Now learn yerr lesson." He was so calm, smartassed... How he 'reassured' me opposed what happened next. I was hoisted up, a ragdoll on his shoulders... I realized he had me in Electric-Chair pose... The one time that night I said "No-" and it was right when he dropped forward, putting my T-zone and snout down. If friends said my nose was shortened an inch for a week, I'd believe it.

"HAAAAHH!!" Dante and Hal both cried out, together. I couldn't process another thing, my eyes ran steady streams. My dong did too, now on the edge once more, no stimulus to the package... It threatened to shoot off from pure agony. My tail looked like stairsteps, my nose was a contusion, my back was jacked all to hell. I wouldn't dare try and get up. Flip went through the numbers and I mouthed then, wanting them to get to ten. Wishing Jesse's win to be rapid, certain as it was. That fuckin' beaver did me in, while looking the least like a pro brawler. I felt a wet jet on my ear, for three more seconds... It almost felt like relief, taking me out of the million aches. I wouldn't know what it was for a while.

He gave way to Ken, with a fistbump and a lifted-eyebrow look back at me. Yeah thanks for that, charmer... And the capuchin looked less-readly for a tussle and more like he'd be waiting tables at a southern blues bar. The man had pinstripes down from his shirtcollar, slacks that musta run him more than a car's down payment, a toxic smile and arms bigger than my legs. The rest of him was limber, as New World apes are wont to be, so I had no clue how I'd best a guy who brought furry pythons stacked on slenderness. He walked up light as a feather, and I made light of it. "Is that a size 4 heel I hear? You'd wear Prada pumps like a boss."

He sniffed, and his beady black eyes stared right through my soul. For the tininest moment I begged for an eternity in fire... Before I knew why, he swaggered forward, heaved his hand at mach-speed and my right pec was slammed by a wall of palm.

It wasn't quite judo, but damn if I didn't fall back fast enough that I skidded on the back that couldn't take much more. I was pissed, and rolled away just as he tried jumping me, so he fell on nothing... I made the best of it and jumped on him, but couldn't hold him down. All this male bulk and sweaty weight went in the sky as he stood up like I was a backpack for school. The monkey had me on his back, and I put these fists into his sternum, trying for a weak spot. I felt only hard flesh, no jelly-anything, which shouldn't be possible on a guy who couldn't own more than 170 in pounds, with 40 of that being his biceps. and another 2 in the tail.

He couldn't reach back though, his one drawback to the gun show. I throttled on and on and eventually I saw the wince in his crow's-feet, so I was getting somewhere. But I had finite energy for this. Flip yelled "Tumble 'im off, K'!" And I snapped back about the tiger's mother, leading him to quit rooting against me. I hadn't paid attention to my legs though... One heel was cocked into his knee gap for balance, and when he clicked 'em together, the world went sideways.

Somehow, someway, he sprained me down there by just two bones' clapping. I quit hammering his midriff with knuckles, and that's when he performed the roll. I was laid out, and he stood out of it, right before I could make it to my feet. He let me; the man was honourable as his sense of style would say. Odd to me, but I wiped the spit from my mouth and cracked my neck left and right, gasping when it somehow made my ears antagonize me, like they'd waited for those tendons to send them soft vibes before showing just how hard he socked me. I tried fakin' him out, rushing up to dodge around and bring my bulk to his back again... He caught me though, and a shoulder-check sent me hobbling, almost falling.

There he stayed, until I could re-find stability. Now I'd give it plain as day. My tail was so jacked, but I withstood the torture as I pushed from it, hit him with feet-out, like my daddy was a kangaroo.

He ducked me. And I mean down, falling flat on his belly, the way most folks could never fight instincts to do. I did graze his closest lat, so he spun beneath as I rolled right over him like a log. My luck was so damn bad that I hit the compromised heel first when contacting floor on the other side... I heard his "OOFH!" though, and focused in on how I'd done damage so I wouldn't get lost in the disaster of foot-wound-number-two. He got the better side of this, though, and his foot stamped down to propel him back standing, long before I could do the same. I had a toothache in my foot now, and 'shook it out', but used my other one along with both arms. I made it upright. One way or another I was in the game.

Now he could do anything before my recovery, but he baited me to make my way up; I say baited, as I staggered a bit, because he knew I'd have trouble with a bum heel, and he had the window to launch onto me. He vaulted on me like I was a tree trunk he'd climb to pluck coconuts; I went down hard to rearward, and he clamped on with a Thesz Press. His spindly legs, they were so much more than looks would tell. I had every tooth out as I groused, the leglock felt like it bent me up... And the giant arms that did have what they appeared to, stung my ears as he boxed 'em. Left and right, I had ringing in them instantly... They still caught Ali's cheer and Jesse's comment about easy targets, the smaller-eared dipshit.

It seemed like thirty full seconds, one blow to my temple or ears or chin for each one, with constant press on my hips the full time from his leg strength. I looked up as he finished - he realized after a while it was child's play to keep going, and his solid jaw dripped with joy through perspiration. My cleavage got cooled when it dripped, and he had a lower lip stiff as what rose from me under his taint. I got compliments from Dante at least, on the size of what beat in its veins with my pulse. I couldn't make use of the praise though; I was down, and my ears clamed ringing right when "nine" was called in Flip's tones.

It hit ten, and he smiled, wordless the whole time. Teeth as white as snow. I cast him a death glare, he responded with fuck-me eyes. THEN I heard him talk. "You could lay off the Breyers' pints for a while, it buys more ways to dodge. Just my two shillings."

I outright-laughed, masking all the rage, the hurt inside as well as out. He was interesting, more than the other hosses here. I figured I'd seen the apex right there, and would be shaking hands and bulges soon enough, clappin' cheeks to celebrate a hard-fought endurance string...

... Then it occurred to me... P' was left. Ptolemy had yet to get his turn. And I heard slaps like a high-five, Jesse's guffaws, and a laugh that sounded like the salamander's. Dear God it was gonna happen, no matter what.

"Okay, lollipop," the last bruiser called to me, while I was arched up at the rear with my kickstand under me. He didn't grab or handle me like the others, I felt a slink up my ruined self... Starting at the kinked tail, right where every signal of suffering shot to the brain. He didn't end his slither 'til he reached there from the outside, too, and the six-pack was a wall of iron, even more way to pain me as my skin was in no state to take well a single thing. But his hands wrought a tease on my haunches, the bit of my front he could reach without vaulting me up; massaging, feeling all the innards hurting and jostled, more welt than simple scaly hide now. I pulsed in this fat dick so badly, his touch made it five times the war.

"He's kaput, bruther," Jesse chided, fatly accented. I couldn't even whimper a protest. If my asshole could've made lube, I'd be doused in it.

"Oh I know, it's in my hands now." Ptolemy agreed... Geeeeez the way it sounded now, I couldn't bicker and that just sweetened it. He finally slipped a hand up to the part at my pecs, but didn't lift there; instead it was the nape of my neck, the blue fuzz grown out of it. I got picked up like a cat, and felt like a true pussy, all while Hal crowed insults more than all of them. I proved through that jackass I had mettle and worth... So the rest could own the value of making me a toy. I sputtered, breathing halved while P'-man had me vertical. My eyelids slitted. They took in his cool stare, and in my soul I craved a lifetime here of getting fucked and fucked up...

He dragged his tongue on my face, the same one that had took all the last slam's PSI. Then I was wrapped in a headlock, tight enough that his arm girth cut into my cords... So tight I was seeing visions of my life from years back, matches I won, exhibitions lost, flashing through me. He turned his bod to be horizontal onto mine, inflicting a Headlock Takedown. My back took more of what it already wouldn't. When I coughed out a noise it was pure forfeit. But the demon-with-abs wasn't done. He spun his tail through mine; it was shorter, but this mattered zilch. You can't fathom the rough-on-rough, his fettered hide clasping foot after foot of that tool I took for granted. I went up, into his arms, after his tail handed me to him.

Flip laughed so hard he wheezed like a smoker. I came to be pressed by his full strength, I musta turned three shades darker red, every vein in my chest and arms rose out. When I opened my mouth to squawk, he spat in it. And then while I gulped that down he rubbed my temples, the dimples, and held fast while he hopped his legs up on my bare waist. My dick leaked through his thigh gap, and he kissed me once, making that just further shame to heap on as I felt him shift our weight's center. He dropped back, I was yanked forward, and when I was straight-over-top he kicked out. A Monkey Flip, and inertia took me to slide 'til I stopped. Right at Flip's feet.

The man who arranged all this, and I heard his most satisfied note ever. Low and confirming he'd been right about everything. Pleased as punch while I lay punch-drunk. Spent everywhere but one place, where all I'd need was one finger on the trigger of my dick. I couldn't lift it, nor anything.

Then Hal put an idea to words. "I'm feelin' my beers from early. I think I know what this big boy needs." Such a minute little lilt to the 'boy'. I was speechless, powerless, choiceless. Before I could even try to murmur 'Wh-what', it started. Hot and on the web of my toes. Up my left leg, stinging the bruises and scraped scales. It was a stream of wet... then two... I heard footsteps crowd around, and soon, a third jet... I barely got my eyes open, and saws Hal's pecs, his arms down and hand on himself. Jesse too. They pissed on me, up the meaty parts of their foe. The man they brought down. I smelled the funk, the ex-lagers. Hal's stream hit my sack, and as it ran down my taint, warm, humiliating, that's when it finally happened.

"F-FHHHH-HCKKKK!! "

My first rope went so high I heard the light fixture creak. Directly I felt the spray higher up, and heard Ali's chittering; he unleashed wizz right on my shooting cock. The first of my shots alone had gone rocketing over me; now my dick aimed at my own damn face, coating me, getting tangled in blue beard scruff as I felt that hosing down... Fuck it was so new and arresting, the cross between sting and hum as my dick took the nude dog's yellow brew. Then Dante put a shadow over me; the rest of the guys stood at my feet, aiming up the span of these legs, but that Rottie mix hid my face under his leg split, and pulling out of his jockstrap, had the slit of his piss 'n' jizz highway dead-center over me. The trickle got fast in a rush, and right down my snout, a gold waterfall. It had nowhere to go but my lips.

"What a sturdy loser," Ptolemy said in backhand compliment. He came up on Dante and rested elbow on him.

"Heheh no shit," Jesse corroborated. "He's a purty one, this urinal."

My cock fired cupfuls, one even made it in my gaping mouth as Dante's river flowed around the lips, right past the gums. I swallowed both wildly. Chest was heaving, and soaked. Ptolemy tagged me between these eyes, his own bladderful came to call. I writhed all down me like a giant hairy worm, still pained by all their talents in the ring, taking my orgasm, taking their salty floods with it.

Ken had style in all things, so when he came up to add his processed whiskey, I felt a stream augmented; he squeezed his dickhead on and off, played with the spray. I finally got a look at it after him opposing me in full clothes, and fuuuck, the glans he used to 'switch' pissflow to none and full in alternate was like my fist. He tagged my gut while it shook with yearning; I thought only of closing lips around such a huge shroomcap, while his 'crosshairs' moved to my armpit, dousing salt 'n' musk with salt and ammonia.

They used me like white basins in a stadium. My throat may as well've been a plastic mat holding cigarette butts or perfume cake. It humiliated me, and at the same time, what they did was respect. I'd earned this. Without strength or girth I'd never get to be the communal pissbucket. But I was. And my nuts scrunched up on my undercarriage, giving their all.

I couldn't yelp, wail, anything, I could merely breathe through the nostrils as trails of heat ran down behind them on my bruised face. My stomach filled with two men's past beers, sent from the same dicks used to shoot their climax. I tasted cream that the blue man's pee washed out his gunchamber... Hal ran out of piss, and I heard the foley of a good stroke, he'd clearly got hard while he wet me up 'n' down. He grunted while feverishly beating off; Jesse aimed higher and lower, playing with my core. Laughing in his redneck brogue. I almost felt like peaking while my peak wound down.

"Hard to believe this toy took home prizes last year," Hal chided. "Look at him now, covered in his cream 'cause of us."

Ali aimed for the fold where my asscrack started out my taint. "Nnnggh. He got himself into this. Just a lame duck."

I knew the meaning, and my gonads boiled... Hal breathed harder, and Dante's piss went slight, then strong again, he was stiffening too. Before the mutt could exhaust that wizz tank, I took a shot to the neck... Hal went off with a roar and an insult. "HHAAH, TAKE it y' TADPOLE!! "

I found a way to whine through the gulps... He had me dead-to-rights, tailed and dethroned, no threat to 'em now. Jesse shook, I heard the shimmy in his fat, and that fucker went off before he even quit pissing. The last of his gold swirled into the first load, and I was hit in the eye. Good thing it was closed, like nothing else on me was; my open legs had cascades down them. My abs were canals for it. Handfuls of beaver spunk stuck on my pec hair. Dante finished up pissing and wagged his dick, I saw the change in light through my eyelids. He jacked off with the flickwank, and it towered out ready to shoot by the time Ali lost stream pressure.

They jerked in different ways while Jesse howled, half-crooned, emptying sweaty nuts. I was the hottest mess around. My spine jarred me still, yet it made another cumshot likely more and more. Dante walked forward, around front of me, joining accomplices. Of all those fighters, he'd been the least, well, hateful, maybe? Or the most like he woulda been a pal. But now the others stood a bit aside, as I found the strength to reach up and wipe my eyes. He bent down, wrapped hands on my ankles, and I was ass-in-the-air. "I think a good boy needs more than a bath."

For a dog to say that... I lay so hot, they could have fried an egg on me. Blood rushed to my head again, but I wasn't gonna be tossed, suplexed... Instead he walked up close, and Jesse took one leg out his right hand. He held the left, and his free mitt went to position his fat dick... I felt the press on my hole's exit, and as my eyes rolled back, in pushed the glans and a king-sized serving of meat...

Hal slapped his back, encouraging. He'd caught his breath, and mine left my lungs in a stream of whimper. Dante crept in slow, at first... Inches like a beercan, in the only spot they hadn't hurt yet, the most vulnerable. My prostate felt it touch. Then jab. Once it started, he put power in, and I was fucked steady by a smiling dog. His ass jiggled so much it put style in the shoves. Flip cackled, Ali did the same, relishing the show. My toes curled and uncurled. My tongue coulda wrapped in a knot. The abs I worked to keep just tumbled like a sheet on a bed someone flicked. He docked his veiny ship in my port, faster, harder.

I know my lips folded, a crook and a flare out for every hit.... Gahd-damn he'd been jobbing on other buff tailholes before. Maybe *I* was the heel, geting my just desserts for thinkin' I could hold my own tonight. I had mettle and talent and still lost to all, but for one hot lug... And he did more than encourage with his hands now. Hal rubbed on my left cheek as it twitched and flexed with Dante inside me. He took a handful of red flesh and pinched, I mean hard enough to bruise from a grab. No bro coulda kept from yelping, and I sent sweet notes of what was once a man... No, I still was, just beneath them. But Hal had to prove it in a way they didn't; while Dante held on and bottomed out those inches in my pink, Hal came up and I felt something nose its way in... Then chug in with force.

I think it took a year off my life, and I was fine with this. Double-pen'd, the dog and the dirty fuck of a tapir with a score to settle. They didn't bother matching up rhythm, or Hal didn't want to is more likely. My hole was pulled and pushed at two sides, rep after rep, while my teeth bit hard just in front of my tongue. My tail still agonized and this was the sweetest hell to make me forget; they crashed into me, no mercy, no safe words. This was my place now.

Flip laughed the way a man does when the best victory of life is right there and he knows it. Ken grunted in a stream of horny notes, snapped his suspender. I didn't hear Jesse but I figured he was busy on his own cum gun, working it with hands that mighta skinned a possum just last week, who knows. And Ptolemy cast his shadow over me, pushed my head down, then arched it up where my nose fit in his taint. "Sniff" was all he said. I breathed through his fucking leg cradle and all the male sweat nested there.

Tapir and Rottie-mix made music while they ruined me, I'd not be sitting right for far longer than my tail's hurt ensured. Shove in, pull half-out, at the same pace with themselves and not each other. I held in half the air I took from Ptolemy's gooch, it was so fuckin' good. Dante's dick was even better, like a meat tenderizer and my craw was the beef. They rolled over my ring and I was curved just roight to make all these three did better. I felt a smaller hand on me, Ali's, while he knelt near my head. He placed that long jizz cannon in my pit and ran it slow, washing it in the funk of my blue fur... I was just tight enough there to function as a hole, so I figured he was gettin' his rocks off that way. But he pushed Ptolemy, got him off-balance, and I almost thought they'd spar until P'-man saw what he did; I looked up and Ali picked my chin up, ran me through with cock and I tasted my armbend's swamp.

Dante's voice lifted up, I knew what was close. Hal didn't, but who knew if that jerkass would hide the rise and wanna surprise me and shock my asshole after what I'd done. Ali found out how much my gag reflex had worn down with the years and the after-maatches. Good thing for both of us, since he slung dick halfway down my fucking neck.

"Unnghh... Rrrhhh..." NOW Hal's climb to peak was giving clues. Dante just howled, and yipped, and was a true good boy all the way to where he stabbed my gland and tract and just went to jackhammring. My eyes were so wide they coulda popped a vessel. Ali gave only enough room for breaths, and there was NO room at the asshole inn. Hal let loose with "HaaAAAHHH!! " As Dante flooded me with rope 1, 2, 3 and 4, bearing down with it.

I think my lungs switched places, I was rocked so much. So much scorchin' cream. So many ounces that had nowhere to go, with two plugs spooning the broth. Dante only seemed to screw harder as it went on. Hal sent me for a loop when I felt his palm smack the FUCK out my cheek, and grind in with a pinch right after. Then another slam of it, and as he cranked up rhythm again I felt his first flow. It was puny, a few drops... Then a flow... Then a rocket.

Ali shuddered with joy, my shouts he kept capped off and they went straight to his rod. He would be soon to shoot off too, and my poor neglected dong didn't need a friend to start letting loose with a second peak. I was pleasured everywhere that had means to do it. This felt less like punishment than I know they meant, and I was fine with that.

Jesse got me on the neck cords, he'd been doin' just what I guessed. Ali started pushing in an inch at a time, out almost fully, then back in step-by-step, playing with me. I sprayed loads on the cold ground, I felt the steam rise to my stomach. I clenched for Dante, but both my tops took benefit... Hal preached about what a cockslut I was for him, and I was too full to speak truth. I felt the lessening from Dante, who still pushed it swell and made the last few pumps a stomach-bending treat. I know it was just for me. His tapir buddy bashed it in and I knew he'd last at this rate... From Ali I got a half-in push, and he took his lesser hand to the rest. Sweat dripped off him and he approached his moment... The horsecocked stud liked to help himself to finish, I could tell. It gave my trachea rest, so all the better.

I exhausted my globes, as Dante had, as Hal soon started to while he smacked my ass again like it owed him dough. But he pulled out slow - they'd swole so much inside me it was a task to get past my doorway - And left Dante in, where the huskular dog didn't mind staying ported. Ali's head flared beyond my throat, and as he hissed I felt it start shooting. His hand worked the inches I didn't, there was still enough room he barely grazed my DSL. I gulped it down like it was breakfast every day. My cock swayed with all this and my own squirming from the best time in months. In my ears went the sound of "Unhhhh, UNH!!" And I took a hot jet to the top of the head... By now I knew the voice, and god-damn Ptolemy was on his third nut, still sending it far. I shook all over, it was all from their work, and what they left on and in me. I smelled the salt from every one of their streams... Except one man's.

Ali shot his last behind my Adam's-apple, and relented, drawing back with that bent-stomach lookin'-at-his-own-dick porn pose. The head popped out my mouth, and I steamed from every limb and square foot of myself, dry nowhere, in sweet pain so many places. Ali raised his hand, cock still swinging far and dripping my spit, in a "c'mon" gesture. Flip was the man who entered my vision, and I stared first at that canine monster I'd just quit from, then my coach. My organizer here, and in hot ways the betrayer. I saw up his aged husky build, his scars and his silvery chest fuzz, the grey peeks out from his pits, the vein on his member still bigger than a sapling... And I had to tell him, while choking. "Y-ya got me dead to rights. Mentor." It rattled in my used pipes.

He nodded one time, in stern love. "Always have. You got moxy, you can hold it down bein' passed around. There, there," he seemed to comfort, though I detected sarcasm bushed as I was. He got down slow on his knees, he couldn't move faster these days. "You did good, crusher." And he reached out, held my aching jaw wide, and took his dick in the other.

He pointed it straight in and the stream started. First bit was a dribble, his prostate had to let it start steady. Then my lips were soaked. My mouth filled with his piss, almost sweet while salty with bitterness like all these fuckin' studs. I let him watch my throat work to swallow it. I didn't spill a drop, with eyes locked on his. He was so strong, handsome, learned. He'd taken the raw strength and talents I had, all this able dragon, and carved it into a showstopper in fights. And now I drank from his tap, learned how Sam Adams tasted after filtering through every part of his elderly husk. His vintage, passed through every inch of his hung manhood. He skritched my chin in condescention, I shut my eyes and thought only in the moment. Paradise.

My stomach reached capacity, right when he ran out of it. I'd been their everything, enemy, buddy, plaything, cocksleeve, urinal, muse. He gave me such a slight wink. My scales maded goosegumps all down me head-to-tail.

It would heal, all of me would. And next week I'd be back in the ring - maybe more decent, hah - while some of them watched at home on the tube or their phones. I had new fans. Strong memories made tonight, and connections.

Their manbitch 'lost' tonight, but I'd win again and again. And the flavours wouldn't leave me.

Flip, that ruffian...~

_ The end. _