Come On Down!

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

#4 of Kink

Can Haysham win an around the world vacation on TV's 'hardest' gameshow? And just how well does he know his partner Slyne? It's time to Come On Down!!

BlueBucks appears courtesy of Televassi - check out their terrific trilogy of coffee shop stories here: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1587500


"Number 69, come on down!"

The coincidence amused the fox as he bounded down the stairs, past members of the audience cheering rapturously. He had watched this gameshow many times and knew just how coveted that number was.

Once on the studio floor, he waved to the crowd before shaking hands with the host.

Mawsyth was all shiny teeth and shinier suits. A seven-foot-tall moose with an impressive rack, he always dwarfed the contestants, yet had a steadfast manner that put them at ease. It was all in his showbiz smile, which exuded both cheeriness and cheesiness simultaneously. It was a grin upon which a career was built.

"What's your name and where are you from?" Mawsyth asked as a microphone was thrust underneath the fox's muzzle.

"I'm, I'm Haysham and I'm from Lancashire," the fox replied, his eyes sweeping across the studio audience. He gulped as he saw 500 pairs of eyes staring back at him. He felt his knees weaken before he regained his composure.

"And what do you do for a living?" Mawsyth continued.

"I'm a mechanic, I work in a garage."

"A mechanic, aye?" Mawsyth said, directing a knowing wink towards the audience. "You must be good with your paws. That may come in... handy."

Haysham chuckled, the nerves rising once again. The host quelled them quickly.

"And your partner - tell us about him."

"His name is Slyne, he's a wolf and we've been dating for just over two years."

The crowd awwed.

"And where did you meet him?"

"At a coffee shop around the corner from college - he was working there. I went there to revise, but I guess engineering wasn't the only thing I was studying."

More awwws.

"That's sweet, we'll get to meet him later. First though, you need to choose your prize. Step over to the wheel and give it a good spin."

The crowd cheered as the oversized disc was set into motion, as if their exhalations had any bearing on its movement. It soon rested and the audience oohed.

"An around the world holiday for two! What an incredible prize!! That's what you'll be playing for this evening. May I wish you the very best of luck."

Turning to the camera, he continued, "We've met the contestant and we now know the prize - it's time to meet our glamorous assistants!"

The crowd went wild as two white minks strutted onto the stage, their breasts and legs barely contained by their black strappy dresses. A red feather boa hung around each of their necks, which they twirled provocatively, whipping the audience into delirium. Winking as they shimmied across the stage, this only stoked the crowd further. Even Haysham watched open-muzzled as they made their way towards him, his sheath quivering slightly in betrayal.

"Let's get ready for round one!" Mawsyth exclaimed above the cacophony.

The crowd whooped as Haysham was led towards the back of the stage, one mink on either side, arms interlocked.

The camera zoomed out as the host assumed his position to the left of five tall cabinets. Each was numbered from one to five, with the front of each painted a different colour. There was a conveyor belt directly in front of the five doors, while there was a large timer and scoreboard above them.

"Now," Mawsyth said. "Please kneel outside door number one."

The fox complied, the tip of his snout resting on the wood panelling. Looking down, he noticed there was a small circular hole just below his eyeline covered by a flimsy piece of board. Then the world went black as a leather blindfold was placed over his eyes and tightened.

Haysham gasped as his arms were then forced behind his back, before he heard the familiar clicking of handcuffs. His sheath twitched as he struggled against the restraints, but he knew it was all part of the game.

"You think you know your partner, but how well do you know him? We're about to find out."

The crowd whooped.

"I hear you have exquisite taste in men. Let's put your taste to the test. There is a wolf behind each of these doors, five in total. You have 15 minutes to suck them off. For every wolf you successfully blow, you will get 10 points. And if you can identify Slyne, you will get 50 additional points. Do you understand?"

Haysham nodded. The crowd fell silent.

"Start the clock!"

The board scraped open and Haysham soon felt a light warmth on his lips. He raised his tongue to meet it, the sweet taste of pre an invitation to extract more. He opened his muzzle to let the cock in, his tongue wrapping around it like a blanket, exploring its contours. He heard a sigh of contentment from behind the closed door as he started to bob along its length, searching for the right tempo.

The crowd started chanting his name catatonically and he followed their rhythm, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, his lips locked around the pulsating length. He closed his eyes despite the blindfold, focusing entirely on the job in hand.

Without the use of his paws, he knew he would have to be creative, particularly as he had another four to do after this. With each outward thrust, he wrapped his tongue around the head, teasing the glans and tickling the slit. The muffled groans of delight suggested it was working and this was only confirmed when he felt the tell-tale twitch of the cock as the wolf got closer to release.

Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards - as the crowd kept chanting, the fox kept sucking - his head bobbing for the wolf far more than for the cameras.

"Haysham! Haysham! Haysham!" they screamed, the wolf screaming the same name as he tipped over the edge. The fox lapped up the cream as it coated his tongue, before sliding easily down his well-lubricated throat. In the distance he heard a ding which he assumed was the scoreboard, before he felt the conveyor belt move to door number two.

The fox heard the familiar scrape of wood on wood before the second dick entered his muzzle. It was more forceful this time, the additional few minutes of anticipation leading to impatience. The crowd were relentless in their chanting as Haysham quickly got up to speed, his lips clamped around the aching member, investigating its length.

It was a saltier taste than the first, with a slightly thicker girth, which made the fox's lips splay outwards comically. He gagged as he felt the tip hit the back of his throat, saliva forming on the side of his mouth as the wolf thrust his cock deeper into his maw. A few drops dribbled onto the conveyor but he didn't let it bother him, his focus solely on milking the lupine.

Haysham coughed before resuming his rhythm, again bobbing in time to the chants. It wasn't long before he felt a familiar twitch as his tonsils were coated with a second wave of come. He heard the wolf's groan fade into the distance as the conveyor belt swiftly guided him to door number three.

"Ten minutes to go!" he heard in the background as the third hungry cock invaded his muzzle. He felt it pulsating on his tongue as it made its way inside, exploring the deepest depths of his mouth. This one was longer but not quite as wide, which gave him the opportunity to rest his aching jaw, something which came as quite a relief.

After a deep breath, he started once again, flicking his tongue around the engorged beast and enveloping it gently within his soft spell.

"Haysham! Haysham! Haysham!" he heard, a tsunami of encouragement that flooded over him, allowing him to resume his flow. It didn't take long for this wolf to come, his relief adding to the fox's, who was beginning to tire.

"You're past halfway," he heard the host say as the door opened to expose wolf number four. Haysham groaned as the cock entered his maw, forcing it to flare due to its width. The fox looked down, hoping to inspect its size, but the blindfold obscured everything from view.

Haysham licked his lips before getting to work, using the crowd's chants once again to build himself into a rhythm. In and out, in and out, in and out, over and over in hypnotic repetition, desperately yearning for another coating of come.

"Haysham! Haysham!" they screamed as if they too were sucking cock with him, pounding every inch of that flesh in the hope of securing release.

"Five minutes to go!" he heard, as the first doubts started creeping into his mind. He kept pumping, onwards and onwards, but to little avail, even when he trailed his tongue across the wolf's sensitive slit. There were no clues coming from the other side of the door - just ear-shattering silence - and he struggled to think of a technique that would work.

Without his paws, he had little, while the hole was too small to force his tongue anywhere else. What else did he have? His teeth? Some wolves like their cocks being pulled, but he knew most didn't. His fur? It would be a different sensation for sure, but this wolf didn't seem the sensual type. That only left his nose. His cold, wet, sloppy nose. It was worth a shot.

The fox pulled his mouth back, exposing the cock to the stuffy studio air. Through the door, he heard a puzzled sound before he started to sniff it. He followed its length up as if snorting cocaine off the shaft, the coldness of his snout in contrast to its warmth. He felt a shiver run through the wolf, a sensual shiver, and he knew it was working.

He kept sniffing, starting back at the base and moving up to the tip, scraping a tooth along it as he did. Another shiver, which only intensified as he got to the head. He swirled his tongue around it, like wrapping bacon around a sausage, focussing solely on the glans. From beyond the door, he heard a dull roar, which became increasingly guttural the more his nose and tongue got to work.

It didn't take long. Despite the fox's focus, the wolf's climax came as a surprise as his seed splashed liberally over his face. The howl that accompanied it cut through the soul as Haysham licked what he could off his mottled visage. But before he could finish, he was outside door number five with yet another eager cock to please.

Haysham opened his muzzle to accept his dessert, the sweetness of pre touching the tip of his tongue. He lapped it up greedily, the familiarity pushing him harder, knowing already he was tasting his beloved. He eagerly wrapped his tongue around Slyne's member, loving every inch, every centimetre of his wolf. His tail wagged as he sucked ever harder, employing all of the tricks that he knew worked on his lover. There were many, but time was against him.

"Sixty seconds!" a voice said as Haysham closed his eyes once again and continued his sucking. His muzzle ached, but he yearned for the final taste of come, like craving an espresso after a four-course meal. He smiled as he heard the familiar moans of his wolf, as if he was about to be released into a heavenly sphere.

Despite the tiredness, still he kept pumping, desperate to drink, knowing this would be proof of the depth of his love.

"Thirty seconds!" the host shouted as the crowd chanted ever louder, hoping he could finish the job.

"Ten, nine, eight..." they chorused as Haysham felt a familiar twitch, before his partner descended into the bliss of oblivion. The fox gulped greedily as his muzzle flooded with come, the sweetness combining with the heavy scent of his lover. He then collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily, as the sound of a klaxon rang out. He was fully erect but made no attempt to hide his shame, relief washing over him like the come of five thirsty wolves.

"Congratulations, Haysham!" the host said as the minks dragged him to his feet. "Five wolves in 15 minutes, but one question remains - and watching your tail, we think we already know the answer - which one was your Slyne?"

"Number five," he breathlessly gasped.

"Was it number five?" the moose said before a ringing of bells confirmed he was right.

"Riiiiiight!" said Mawsyth unnecessarily as the crowd clapped their approval. "You're doing so well Haysham, but everything can change in round two."

He then turned to the camera, which framed him in front of Haysham's matted, come-splattered face.

"Let's see how he does after these messages." It was the perfect time for product placement.

***

From the mysterious highlands of Africa, our arabica beans are grown that little bit longer to give you a richer, fuller taste. Hand-roasted by our master connoisseurs, BlueBucks coffee adds an extra charge to your day.

Come On Down... to BlueBucks!

And why not try our new nut milk blend, available for a limited period. Participating stores only.

***

The jangly theme tune signalled the start of part two, which Mawsyth greeted with his usual slickness.

"Welcome back to Come On Down! - television's _hardest_gameshow. Haysham from Lancashire, here, is doing incredibly well, having a perfect score from round one. Let's see whether he can keep it up in round two."

The camera panned over to the fox, who had been cleaned up following the opening contest. He was grinning widely, but his eyes showed signs of exhaustion.

"The points are doubled and so are the stakes. Haysham, are you ready?"

The fox nodded.

"Then Come On Down!"

The crowd went wild as the fox was led towards the back of the studio and a similar set of tall cabinets, these with five bigger holes cut out of them. He was again placed in a kneeling position before the familiar blindfold was applied. His arms were then pinned behind his back and locked tight with cuffs.

"Now then," Mawsyth said. "You may be in the lead now, but hopefully this game won't see you fall... behind."

The fox gulped.

"Here's how it works. Behind each of these doors, there are five beautiful tails. All you need to do is work out which one is your darling Slyne's. Of course, you cannot see and you cannot touch, so you're going to have to be creative. You have five minutes, one for each tail. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Haysham said, more confidently than he was feeling.

"Oh, and one more thing. The other four tails all belong to wolves you know. Identify them and you'll get 20 points each, with 100 for identifying your boyfriend. Are you ready?"

Haysham nodded.

"Then your time starts now!"

A klaxon went off as Haysham heard the scraping of wood to expose the hole. He sniffed greedily, catching the thick scent of wolf. He smiled as he moved his muzzle closer, the smell intensifying as he did.

The waft of a breeze on his nose suggested the tail had moved upwards, exposing the pucker underneath. He took in the scent once more before delicately lapping at the concealed flesh. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a soft purring as he traced circles around the star.

A gasp from beyond highlighted his dexterity as he plunged his tongue deeper, slurping hungrily at the donut, tasting it from every angle. The fox closed his eyes in bliss, enjoying exploring every contour, oblivious to the audience cheering him on. It was like being back at university once again.

As quickly as it started though, it was over, as he was pulled back from the wall. The hole slammed shut and the conveyor belt moved on, stopping outside door number two. He heard the familiar scrape of wood on wood as he licked his lips, ready to enjoy another sweet temptation.

He breathed in heavily, enjoying the muskier scent of the second wolf. A small bead of saliva trickled down his tongue, lubricating his mouth in preparation for the feast. He then dove straight in, swishing around the pucker, lapping up every flavour it contained. This lupine was slightly looser than the last, allowing Haysham to force his tongue deeper inside, eliciting sharp gasps of pleasure from its owner. The more he licked, the more he felt his sheath stir, his cock starting to poke slightly into the open. Then, like before, it was over.

Wolf number three was tighter but no less divine, and Haysham enjoyed the challenge of opening his oyster. His scent was masked by soap, making it more difficult to determine his identity, but once he was done, he was pretty sure it was Slyne.

The fourth wolf was the loosest of them all, so Haysham knew who it was almost instantly. This didn't stop him from covering every square inch of his pucker though as he enjoyed the familiar moans which accompanied his probing. As he did, he stifled moans of his own, his dick now fully erect, a testament to his pleasure.

The final wolf was the most intriguing as it was so unfamiliar to him. He sniffed deeply, but his scent was masked well, while his tailhole was giving little away too. He was also incredibly silent, despite Haysham's voracious rimming. By the time the klaxon went, he was none the wiser as to who it could be.

The fox panted, regaining his composure as the blindfold and shackles were removed. The minks then brought him to his feet before Haysham was gingerly guided to the host. Once again, a microphone appeared under his muzzle.

"So, Haysham. Five wolves and five tails, but whose hole is the goal. First, which one was Slyne?"

"Number three," the fox said confidently.

"Is he right?" the host asked before the dinging of a bell confirmed it.

"Riiiiiight!!" Mawsyth screamed with far more enthusiasm than was warranted.

The fox grinned.

"You're doing well," Mawsyth continued. "Now how about the others?"

Haysham rattled off the names of three other wolves, the bell chiming his correctness on each occasion. This left wolf number five.

"Who was behind door number five?" Mawsyth probed. "Any ideas?"

"I... I... I don't know," Haysham stammered, his conviction suddenly evaporating.

"Well let's find out!" the host said as the door moved back to reveal his next-door neighbour. The fox's heart sank - how was he going to collect his post now? And it would certainly make football practice awkward.

"Bad luck!" Mawsyth said, "but there is still plenty to play for. Let's get you ready for the next round!"

The theme tune was piped into the studio again as Haysham was led over to a spanking bench. He was ushered to climb on top of it before the minks strapped him in, tightening cuffs on both his arms and his legs. A strap was then placed over his midriff, which too was buckled securely.

The fox looked ahead of him, the audience a sea of stars all twinkling at him, before his vision was obscured by a thick black hood. Behind his head, he heard the clicking of buckles as the rubber assumed the form of his face. Finally, he felt his tail being lifted before a strap was attached between it and the collar of the mask.

He breathed heavily as he squirmed in his bindings, finding them secure. He relaxed. The sound of the studio was muffled, but he could hear Mawsyth clearly.

"This is the bonus round, Haysham. You have already enjoyed the flavours of the wolves, but now the tables are turned. Each of them will take it in turns to fist you for sixty seconds. If you can identify which one is your Slyne, then you win the round the world holiday. Do you understand?"

The fox nodded in agreement, a stifled 'yes' coming out of the hood.

"Good luck," the moose said. "Your time starts now!"

The pressure on Haysham's tailhole was immediate as the paw of wolf number one danced circles around his exposed pucker. He then gently inserted it into his hungry hole, the flaring making the fox flinch in his chains. He stifled a gasp as he transcended the widest point before the paw slipped in more easily, all resistance overcome.

Haysham started to moan as he felt the soft pads apply pressure on his prostate, his insides exploding in ecstasy. His eyes rolled back as the wolf brought his paw out of his hole before plunging it back in, deeper still. He repeated the motion, oscillating back and forth, again and again, as the fox gurgled in pleasure. He felt he was floating, far away from the crowd, as he pulled on his bindings in an attempt at ascension.

It was only the sound of the klaxon and the removal of the paw that stole him back from his reveries. The air was cooling on his donut as the pressure was eased, exposed by the absence of a lover's hand. In some ways it was a relief, but he suddenly felt lonely and yearned for more, desperate to be filled once again.

It was therefore fortunate that as soon as it ended, it began anew as a second paw entered and started to toy with him. He babbled once more as he was sent on another journey, with each passing wolf increasing the distance. By the time the fifth had arrived, he was up in the clouds, which were fogging his vision in heavenly bliss.

Once the final wolf had removed his paw, Haysham started to climb down, the aching in his tailhole comparable with that in his heart. The stars faded as he fell back into his bondage, becoming increasingly aware of the real world in which he was completely exposed.

"Give him a big hand!" Mawsyth said, before the audience clapped rapturously.

"So, five wolves, five paws," he continued. "But, for the holiday, which one was your Slyne?"

Haysham exhaled lengthily, the feeling of paws still heavy on his hole. He racked his mind, desperately trying to think as he felt his pucker twitching in response. The problem was, he hadn't really been concentrating.

"I'll have to hurry you..."

"Erm, three!" Haysham exclaimed in panic. Almost instantly, he could hear the slight deflation in the audience so he knew he was wrong before the klaxon had sounded. His heart sank.

"Bad luck, Haysham, it was wolf number four. You still have one final chance of winning that dream holiday, but you're going to have to risk it all."

Mawsyth then turned to the camera, putting on his toothiest grin. "Can he do it? Find out after these messages!"

***

Venti, Macchiato, Double Frappuccino - whatever happened to just 'a coffee'? At BlueBucks, our artisanal roasters have developed the perfect blend, so you know what you're getting without any of the fuss.

Come On Down... to BlueBucks!

***

"Welcome back to Come On Down!" Mawsyth said as the familiar theme tune faded away. He was standing next to Haysham, one arm draped around his shoulder.

"Haysham here failed to identify his boyfriend's fist in the last round, but he still has one more chance of winning today's top prize - a luxury round the world holiday for two!"

The crowd oohed in response.

"However, to win the trip, you're going to have to gamble. So, are you willing to... take a chance?"

The fox looked directly into the host's eyes and swallowed. "I'll do it," he said, smiling nervously.

"He's gonna do it!" Mawsyth exclaimed as the crowd cheered. "Let's get you ready for the final round!"

With that, Haysham was led towards the back of the studio, where another conveyor belt was waiting for him. On either side there were two sets of cuffs, one pair for his wrists and one for his ankles, while there was a rubber collar attached to the centre. Behind him, an extra-large horse dildo was mounted to the wall. The fox stared at it in trepidation before getting down on all fours.

"Now, while our glamorous assistants get you strapped in, I'll explain the game. Behind you, there is a rather large toy. On it, you can see the names of various destinations. The ones at the tip are the closest, increasing in distance the further down the length you go. If you hit the base, you hit the jackpot. When we start the conveyor, you will have five minutes to take as much as you can. I'm sure all those paws have warmed you up nicely, while Slyne will no doubt be offering his full-throated support."

Mawsyth looked down at the prostrate fox shackled to the belt before catching a glimpse of the two minks. "Are we ready?"

They nodded.

"Remember, the further you get, the further you'll go! You have five minutes. Start the clock!!"

The whoops from the crowd drowned out the sound of the belt as Haysham felt his world slip backwards. The slow movement lulled the fox into a false sense of security; a feeling that was broken when the tip of the dildo hit his sensitive pucker. He took a sharp intake of breath as the toy started working its way in, widening his hole as it bid for entry.

The crowd cheered and Haysham scrunched up his eyes, the belt relentlessly pushing the dildo deeper inside him. He gasped, his donut widening further to accommodate the beast, while his brain cast doubt on how far he could go. But Paris was past and Rome soon followed, with every passing centimetre another step towards his goal.

He winced as the toy pressed into his prostate, fireworks dancing between his loins and his head. He whimpered as the inches kept coming, past Athens, Mumbai, Singapore and Japan then into the Pacific. He groaned like his tailhole as it kept being stretched wider, the stinging starting to overwhelm any initial pleasure he felt.

He looked up at the crowd urging him on, their roars reverberating around his emptying mind. He breathed in and then out, heavy and constant, in a bid to distract himself from the increasing pain in his tail. He yipped as he hit the Continental Divide, the dick showing no mercy as it continued to burrow. Stars swarmed in his head as the cheering of the crowd started to hypnotise, his body lost somewhere over the Atlantic.

He gulped, catatonic with pain as the toy continued its ruthless exploration. Drool dripped from his muzzle, pooling on the belt as he winced, scrunching his face up tighter and tighter.

"You're almost there," he heard somewhere in the ether. "Just a minute to go."

He screamed, unsure whether he could take sixty more seconds of this. Struggling in the shackles, he pulled at them futilely in an attempt to dispel the agony. In the distance, he heard echoes of his name - "Haysham, Haysham, Haysham" - echoes that floated away like confetti to be replaced by the increasing volume of his torturous grunts.

"Thirty seconds, Haysham," he heard as his groans became roars, getting deeper and deeper the deeper the toy probed. He tried to pull himself forward to escape its advances, but the cuffs did their work in holding him fast.

His whole body ached as the seconds descended, counting down to his analgesia. "Ten, nine, eight, seven...". He focused on every word, on every damn syllable, as his brain and tail screamed together in torment.

"Six, five, four..." he shrieked at the audience, the pain discharging from his body as if the cock was forcing it out of him.

"Three, two, one..."

A feral roar and then it was over, the sound reduced to the merest of whimpers. He collapsed onto the belt as the crowd applauded euphorically. He could hear none of this; all he could hear was the sound of his breath, heavy and erratic. He felt sick.

Then he started to move, the toy easing its way out of his frustrated pucker, releasing him from his agony and bringing him back to reality. Yet still he lay, struggling to breathe as his tailhole screamed for forgiveness.

"Congratulations, Haysham! You are going around the world!! How do you feel?"

A microphone was suddenly shoved next to his face, expectantly awaiting an answer.

"G-g-good," was all he could say before he crushed his muzzle deeper into the belt. As he did, he felt the minks tug at the bindings, setting him free. "Good," he mumbled.

Everything was a blur as the fox struggled to come to his senses, the words of the host ringing hollow as if in an alternate plane.

"So Haysham was successful in taking Dobbin's Knob-in and will be taking his wolf on an all-expenses paid trip around the world. Join us again next week when another contestant will be invited to..."

"COME ON DOWN!!" the audience raptured, before descending into paroxysms of applause.

"See you next week folks!"

Roll to credits.