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Ned slowed down to match pace with Rosco as they neared the end of the hall. He draped an arm over the wolf, embracing his shoulders with thick flesh.

Rosco's eyes had been wandering the walls, moving between the paintings adorning them, tracing the cubist faces of buffalo and swans. But his gaze shifted up to Ned, finding a curious smile on the hippo's face.

"You don't mind me getting a little touchy, do you?" He asked, drawing Rosco close enough that the sides of their bellies pressed on each other.

Rosco looked forward to taking off his shirt. "No, especially not after the beach." He leaned in, trailing his own arm behind Ned's back. His hand found a place to rest amongst the broad strips of fat wrapping around his flank. He could feel the shifting of Ned's muscles beneath as he walked. "I like your hands."

Ned squeezed Rosco's shoulder, easily gripping it in his big mitts. "They're more precise than they look." His eyes, half-buried in the thick skin of his face, glimmered with excitement as the two of them reached a broad, locked door. "Speaking of..." He flipped a code on the padlock and beckoned Rosco inside with a grand, sweeping motion. "Welcome to the emporium."

Rosco stepped into a wide room, well-lit and quiet. A cushioned bench sat in the center, looked down upon by an endless array of strange objects hanging from the walls. Leather and shiny latex masks watched silently like an eager council while handcuffs highlighted the other restraints, most of which Rosco couldn't name. He wondered at the use of it all, from riding crops to little metal rings. Rosco tried not to stare at any one thing too long, keenly aware of how Ned was watching him, but he couldn't help it when he glanced at a certain section.

The muzzles hung in the middle of the far wall, proudly shown off. Only one of them was cloth, with the others being stark metal cages, all ready to pacify big carnivore boys like him. And below them were smaller pieces, enclosed lengths of metal or plastic. Some were in the vague shape of dicks, while others were a bit short, or even completely flat. He'd seen pictures of chastity cages before - and some videos. His meat hardened nervously at the sight of them.

"Having some fun ideas?" Ned asked.

Rosco cleared his throat. "I've just never seen most of this stuff... at least in person."

Ned brought him to the bench and nudged him to sit. "Don't feel overwhelmed, you only gotta worry about the knee pads for now."

When Rosco nodded, Ned moved to a shelf with a wide array of pads and other protective clothing. He brought a few pairs over to Rosco, all of them dark gray with soft, firm material in the front.

"I guess I should take my shorts off?" Rosco asked.

Ned stood in front of him. "Would make it easier."

Rosco glanced down bashfully and reached for his waistband with shaky fingers. "Sorry. I'm not this shy most of the time. When Joe's around." He undid the button and managed to pull the zipper down.

Taking a knee, Ned smirked at Rosco's crotch. A bump in the soft underwear fabric showed between the flaps of his shorts, overshadowed by the heft of his belly. Ned tugged on the shorts legs, slipping them past Rosco's feet. "Good to trust the guy you're playing with." He glanced up as Rosco's eyes flitted about the room. "Or, you mean all the time?"

"Well, yeah, to be honest." Rosco trailed his toe-claws gently on the floor. "Not like I'm his dog or anything. But it usually feels like he's taking care of me."

"You like that?" Ned held some of the pads against rosco's knee, judging the size.

"Most of the time." Rosco paused. He was letting this hippo help him into kink gear, so what was a little more vulnerability? "But sometimes I think he gets tired of it. I guess I want to be able to take care of him."

Ned smiled. "That's sweet."

With a nervous laugh, Rosco continued, "It's just he's the one with the good job... and all the confidence and everything."

"More than one way to take care of someone." Ned nudged Rosco to lift his leg. "Speaking of, how does this feel?" He tugged the pad into place.

Rosco moved his leg a few times, and with a little nudging from Ned, got down on his knees. His uncovered knee had to shift and settle every few seconds to keep the soreness at bay, but the padded one gave him no trouble. "Wow, I need some of these for just, like, everyday."

Ned patted Rosco's back. "They're all yours."

"Really?" He asked, ears perking.

"Easy to replace." Ned reached down and pinched one of Rosco's paw pads, toying with it between his rough fingers.

"Thanks." Rosco wiggled his toes against Ned's grasp.

"My pleasure to help out a big boy." Ned offered a sly look. "Can I help you up?"

Rosco nodded, and his eyes widened in surprise as Ned reached under his armpits. Ned pulled on the fat of Rosco's moobs as he lifted, grunting while all those hundreds of pounds of wolf left the floor. For a brief moment, Rosco stared, wide-eyed, as he was held like nothing more than a big puppy, before Ned dropped his butt on the bench with a heavy, padded impact. His whole body shook, reverberating up his flanks and into his moobs.

"Look at that jiggle." Ned swatted Rosco's belly. Even under the wolf's shirt, there was no hiding the waves of motion across the wolf's hide. "Soft as butter. Your moose must cuddle you like a plushie." He drummed his own middle, showing its rounded, firm shape underneath a layer of pudge. "You're much softer than this old hippo, that's for sure."

Rosco looked down, wiggling his toes bashfully. He murmured, "Joe calls me his soft boy. Sometimes he squeezes so tight it gets hard to breathe." As he spoke, though, his eyes rose and stared at Ned's gut, contained in its well-fitted dress shirt. The hippo probably had to order all of his shirts custom. Rosco really should have looked away as he felt his dick harden against its cloth confines.

But Ned didn't give him the option. The hippo dropped his own weight on the bench with a full-chested, "Oof." Something creaked sharply beneath them, and Ned laughed at Rosco's alarmed face. "Calm down, boy. It's reinforced." He patted one of the bench legs.

Then, he moved his hand over to Rosco's knee, and left it there, looking at him with expectation.

Rosco listened to the excited patter in his chest and shifted to point his legs towards Ned. But when the hippo began to drag his palm up past the knee, Rosco stammered, "Um, Joe and I... foreplay's okay, but I don't want to go... all the way... without him here, you know?"

Ned brought his palm up Rosco's thigh, fingers tickling the tender inner flesh. "Understood." He leaned in and spoke into Rosco's ear with a hot breath, "I don't think you're finishing until your moose daddy gives you permission, anyway."

Excitement rushed through his loins. "You don't think he'll make me wait too long, do you-" Rosco's breath caught in his throat as Ned reached his boxer-briefs and squeezed, managing to catch the side of Rosco's rump in his grasp.

"Even I'd have a hard time restraining myself from this fat puppy ass. But, I'm gonna make sure to help Joe teach you some tricks first." Ned tapped Rosco's snout. "He might even let you out of the muzzle for some treats, if you're good. Gotta keep a fat wolf fed, after all."

Rosco looked down at Ned's hand, which had stayed on him, grip tight. Cloth-covered wolf thigh squeezed out between his fingers. "I've never done tricks before," he admitted. "Or anything, really, other than getting my belly rubbed."

Ned hummed in thought, and tipped Rosco's snout upwards. "How's your bark?"

After a moment of fighting past the embarrassment of it, Rosco let out a short, sharp noise, more of a loud whine than anything_._

Ned put a hand on Rosco's moob, pushing in hard. "It's a start, but a biggun like you can do more than that. Here." His fingers pressed through wolf fat until they touched tender muscle and rib cage far beneath. "Draw from your chest. You wolves have those big howling lungs, use 'em." Pleasant soreness radiated out from the pressure of Ned's hand, firm and certain.

Rosco swallowed to wet his throat and tried to pull the sound from deeper within. At first, he could only manage a stuttered growl, but when his chest started resonating against Ned's palm, the hippo tightened his other hand hard around Rosco's thigh. The surprised yelp that came out carried a deeper sound with it.

"Full breaths, Rosco." Ned made him inhale and exhale, seeming to control his body with his hands, until Rosco's chest filled completely. "Now speak."

"Ourf!" Rosco's fur stood on end at the sound of his own bark. He tried again, "Wourf!" He breathed slowly. "Rouff! Brouff!" A big, stupid smile painted his snout as he looked to Ned for approval.

"Good boy!" Ned jostled the sides of his pudgy face. "See? You've got it."

"I um-" Rosco cleared his throat, getting reaccustomed to talking. "I've got one thing."

"Don't stress about being a puppy," Ned said. "The point is not to worry. Have fun with it, let go of all those thoughts."

"Yeah, I'll try." Rosco nodded. "I just don't want to embarrass myself. I'm sure Burger's a lot better at it than I am."

"Burger? He's a sweet thing. And," Ned's voice took on a conspiratorial edge, "he's much more used to mooing. You might have him beat on the barking game." He slowly let go of his grip on Rosco's thigh, and drew a finger around one of the steaks patterning his underwear.

"Does he really live as a puppy - er, cattle?" Rosco asked. The idea sent a little curious shiver up his back.

"Yep. Even sleeps in a barn stall." Ned grinned at Rosco's wide eyes. "Got one strict farmer, too. Anselm doesn't just play around with his boys."

"Talk about needing knee pads," Rosco murmured.

Ned laughed.

Rosco imagined a life like that, living the role of an animal. "But, if Burger sleeps in a

stall, does he sleep alone?" At least a puppy might get to lay on the bed.

"You know, I'm not sure. Maybe one of Anselm's other boys keeps him company." Ned shrugged.

With a nod, Rosco turned back to watching Ned play with his boxers, pinching and rolling the fabric around the steaks.

The hippo crept his fingers along the width of Rosco's thigh, towards the bulge between them. "He's gonna love seeing these on you. Who knows, maybe he'll want to play cattle instead." He put on a sinister face. "Come here Burger, let this wolfy play with his food before dinner." Ned's hand closed around Rosco's lower belly fat. "Doggies don't get this big on veggies, after all."

Rosco could hear the shakiness in his own breath. Burger's thick, fat-stuffed rolls riled up more than just his loins, and his mouth started to fill with eager saliva. But as he thought about all that beef, he pictured Burger's soft, inviting face. He swallowed a bit of drool and met Ned's eyes. "You were only kidding about him actually being used for... burgers... right?"

"Unless his farmer wants more than..." Ned seemed to think something through, "seventy percent fat in his beef, I don't know what he's waiting for." When Rosco's troubled look didn't go away, Ned gave him a reassuring embrace around the shoulder. "Nah, Anselm likes to say he's gonna do it, but I'm sure it's just teasing. It'd be a mighty waste. Bovines like Burger don't come around too often. He's a good cow."

"Okay," Rosco said, heartbeat calming down a bit. That was, until he felt Ned's hand finish its covert journey to his crotch.

"And I think," Ned used the back of his hand to lift the pillowy crest of Rosco's belly and trailed his thumb up and down the bulge beneath, seeming to get a feel for the wolf's equipment, "Anselm's going for a record anyway."

"F-fattest bull?" Rosco asked, toes curling. He wondered who that was. Was there any bull fatter than burger? And, the thought popped into his head, who was the fattest wolf?

As he explored Rosco's sensitive bits, Ned mused. "You know, he might be close to that, too. But I mean the longest time to keep a bull in a cage."

Rosco strived to keep his voice steady as he felt Ned's fingers slide down his growing length, separated by only a layer of cloth. "But, he's not in a cage." Being a permanent farm animal was one thing, but living like that?

Ned's confused look gave way to wrinkles around his eyes as he guffawed, chins jostling, gut shaking with the breath. "Not that kind!" He nudged Rosco to look over his shoulder, at the wall of metal, all those tools for taming guys.

"Oh!" Rosco's ears flicked back bashfully. "Right. Yeah, of course."

"Yep," Ned rubbed Rosco's length, trailing downwards, "_no big, _throbbing bull meat for Burger. No matter how much he wants it." He clearly relished in the bull's predicament.

His voice stumbling at the shudders tracing across his dick, Rosco asked, "So, he's been-been wearing one for, like, a few weeks?" He could only imagine how desperate Burger had to be.

Ned pressed his thumb into the side of Rosco's meat. "Try years."

"Y-" Rosco almost wheezed. "Years?!"

"You'll get to see for yourself, soon." Ned guided Rosco's snout, pulling his gaze down the wall. The further it went, the shorter and smaller the cages became. "He had to start with a custom one for how big he was, but now, well..." He poked a finger into Rosco's navel, losing the tip in his fat.

It took Rosco a second to realize what he meant. "But he's a bull..." he trailed off.

"Imagine how much he's got churning in those balls." Ned finally brought a finger down to Rosco's knot, still ensconced in fur. "Ah, got a sheath, do ya?"

Rosco looked askance. "Joe likes it."

Ned pulled his hand away, freeing Rosco from the torment. A trail of shiny fluid followed his fingers. He moved them in front of Rosco's face, as if he'd done something wrong, and took on his powerful, stern tone. "Rosco, if you can't control yourself we might just have to get you fitted for a cage too."

"But..." Rosco paused, seeing in Ned's rough-skinned face that arguing would get him nowhere. So, he tried his best to look submissive, making his eyes wide like a puppy dog. "No, I'll be good. I promise."

The hippo kept his harsh demeanor for a moment longer, then broke with a huff. "Damn you're cute." Ned petted Rosco on top of the head, wiping the precum off in his fur. "Alright, enough puppy stuff. You're not dressed for it yet, and my tank's feeling mighty empty," He patted his gut. "Dinner should be ready soon, why don't we see what our two herbivores are up to?"

Horny thoughts washed around Rosco's brain, from cages to barking to fattening up a bull. But as he hopped to his feet, his belly agreed with Ned, letting out a long, low growl.