FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Perfect." Ned reached into the oven and pulled out two large metal trays, one covered in potatoes and other starchy vegetables, the other in meat, both smothered in a rich, dark sauce.

Rosco's tail wagged, patting the side of Joe's thigh. Something seemed to be bothering Joe, so Rosco smiled at him excitedly.

After a moment, his expression pulled Joe from whatever was distracting him, as the moose offered a slight smile back.

"Alright," Ned stepped up to Burger, who stood in the corner of the kitchen trying to keep his bulk out of the way, "Let's get these boys ready." He slapped Burger's back, earning a flick from the bull's ears.

"Before dinner?" Joe asked.

"Well puppies don't eat off the table, do they?" Ned grinned.

Rosco's ears perked up. He was ready to play puppy, especially with Ned's help, but the idea of eating on the floor took him by surprise. However, that quickly turned to excitement as Ned took a pair of bowls down from a cupboard. They were large, wider on the bottom, clearly made for big dogs. The hippo set them on the counter, and beckoned to Burger. "I see Joe couldn't wait to get your shirt off. Go ahead and lift that belly for me, so I can reach your zipper. Joe, you get yours undressed too, yeah?"

After sneaking a glance at Burger's heavy, meaty tits, Rosco turned to Joe and lifted his arms. His shirt rode up over his fat, exposing a stretch of light-furred wolf belly.

Joe worked slowly, taking the collar of Rosco's shirt and lifting, careful to tip his snout backwards before he pulled the cloth away. Rosco shivered as he felt the air brush his body - but it had nothing to do with coldness; he was built for winter anyway, not these summer months. But he could feel his moobs and the fat rolls on his side come to rest, unrestrained by a shirt, revealed for everyone to see. After Joe tossed his shirt onto a nearby chair, he gave Rosco's breast a light squeeze, seeming to take more comfort in it than the wolf himself did.

"Can you stand a little wider for me?" Joe asked, as he got onto a knee and reached for the waistband of Rosco's shorts.

"Oh, yeah, hah..." Rosco tried, but it was hard to make much room between his thighs. No matter how he stood, Joe's hands were rooting through thick banks of wolf blubber as he pulled the shorts down.

Over the moose's rack of antlers, Rosco watched Ned finish taking off Burger's shorts, leaving the bull in just a pair of painfully-tight white briefs, the fabric clearly struggling not to tear as it covered barely half of Burger's ass cheeks. He tried to get a look at what Burger was packing between his legs, but even with the bull trying to lift his belly out of the way, he just had too much fat.

"You can let go now," Ned said.

Burger released his flesh, which fell back into place with sloshing waves of motion. He let out a thick huff, catching his breath after the exertion of holding himself up.

Watching him breathe, Rosco was struck by Burger's cute bovine features, that broad snout nearly swallowed by the fat of his cheeks. Burger met his gaze, deep brown bull eyes twinged with friendly excitement, like a puppy meeting someone new.

"Leg up," Joe said softly, as he pulled Rosco's shorts down to his ankles.

Rosco lifted one foot, then the other, and found himself standing like Burger, in just his underwear. He glanced around, and hadn't felt so naked in a long time. Was it the two men he only barely knew? Or, was it that Joe was still in his tank-top and jeans, and Ned in his whole business-casual getup?

Ned planted a hand on Burger's thigh, almost looking small on the canvas of dark fur. The metal band of his watch pressed into soft flesh. "Damn, what's that man been feeding you?"

Burger smiled deeply.

Turning to Rosco, Ned's brows raised. "Speak of puppy fat." He walked over and stood by Joe. "How do you get any work done with this big boy walking around your house?" He grabbed Rosco's belly, thick fingers and bristly, hairy arms seeming to prove Ned's role as a daddy.

Joe snorted. "It's not easy."

"Come on," Ned motioned to him. "Let's get their equipment. You boys be good while we're gone, alright?" He shot an authoritative look at the two pups.

Rosco watched Burger, and copied his meek nod. Joe stared at him for a second, brows furrowed, before following Ned down the hall.

So, suddenly, Rosco was alone with the enormous bull, unsure of even if they were supposed to speak right now. They didn't have all the gear on, so maybe it was okay? But then, what would he say? Rosco was no good with people even in the simplest of times.

In the midst of Rosco's fretting, Burger stepped close to him. He couldn't keep the floorboard from creaking, not with so much weight, and so drew the wolf's eyes.

Being so close, Rosco could hear the faint heaviness of Burger's breath, not from exertion anymore, but simply from having to fill up his chest with so much doughy meat packed onto it. There was... a lot of him.

Rosco's ears tilted back involuntarily, and his tail tucked a bit between his legs. He liked to think of himself as having a big, bad wolf somewhere inside, but he'd never been so thoroughly outsized by someone before. The bull loomed over him, thick bovine snout casting a shadow over his face.

But amongst the instinctual fear, Rosco could feel himself hard as stone beneath his boxer-briefs. Burger's whole body was wide, spread out in rolling hills of dense fat, like one of those fertility statues carved by ancient bovine societies. "I'm sure those prehistoric bulls would have loved you," He murmured, then froze as he realized he'd just spoken. "I- um- I forgot..."

Burger's curious gaze turned amused, and after a moment of glancing at the empty hallway behind Rosco, he answered under his huffing breath, "It's okay, we're not in gear yet. Besides, I won't tell." He looked down, between Rosco's chest and his neck, where the fur fluffed up in soft, speckled gray. "I want you to know, if your daddy doesn't put you in your muzzle right away, it's okay to bite me. I like sharp teeth."

A bit of saliva flowed in Rosco's mouth, spurred by the thought and smell of so much beef. Without a shirt and shorts to conceal him, a sweet, heady musk came from Burger. But Rosco swallowed, tempering the thought. "Okay... you can bite me too, if you want." Rosco might have worried about giving that permission to a _carnivore_Burger's size, but he was well used to being gnawed on by blunt herbivore teeth.

Burger laughed softly, and pulled a few deep, deliberate breaths though his nostrils. It took Rosco a minute to realize that the bull was admiring his own wolfy scent.

Before Burger could say anything more, though, Ned and Joe returned. They both had a set of kneepads with them, but Ned also carried a hood of sorts, massive as it draped over his hand.

"Alright, now once we put these on you two, you're puppies, got it?" Ned asked.

"Yes Sir," Burger answered.

"Um, yes-" Rosco stumbled for a second. He'd always hated the idea of calling someone 'sir', and even playing a role, he wasn't quite prepared for it yet. but he remembered how Burger had talked earlier, "yes, Mr. Tenor." That alone sent warm shivers across Rosco's skull, feeling like he was being seduced by one of his friend's dads, or an older neighbor. And Ned was the right age for it.

Ned nodded subtly at Joe, who cleared his throat as he guided Rosco over to a chair and gently pushed him onto his fat butt. "We're gonna take care of you boys," He did a good job of masking his uncertainty with a slow, calm tone. "If you're good during dinner, you'll get to play with each other."

Rosco lifted a leg for Joe to slip the knee pad on, and his heart pounded in his chest. Playing with that giant Burger, and being given commands by his boyfriend, it was all so much. Ned was one thing; Rosco had only known him as the dominant daddy, but Joe?

Then, as he felt the second knee pad slide into place, Rosco leaned into Joe's touch, as the moose helped him down onto all fours. The kitchen hardwood cooled his paw pads. Was he really capable of this kind of thing? He looked up at Joe, and caught that familiar shine of adoration, even under the moose's own hesitation.

Rosco took a deep breath. He would be a good puppy for his boyfriend - or, his daddy. The fur of his back stood up at that thought. The first thing he did as a pup was rise up on his knees, plant his front paws on Joe's waist, and nuzzle his head against his firm middle.

"Hey, good boy," Joe murmured, reaching down to slowly pet Rosco's head.

"Aw, he's an affectionate puppy, huh?" Ned asked, as he finished pulling the hood down over Burger's snout. It fit his big bull head, even having two wide holes in the front for his horn nubs. It seemed a little silly to make holes for them at all, since they were so short, but Rosco had to admit they looked cute.

"He sure is," Joe said with something almost bittersweet in his voice.

"Down." Ned pointed at the floor, and Burger lurched out of his chair, struggling at first with the girth of his middle, but eventually landing with a soft thud on hands and knees.

Rosco had hoped that Burger would look a little smaller on all-fours, but if anything, the fact of his size was even less possible to ignore. He towered over Rosco, and his fatted belly fell so low that if the bull relaxed, it pooled out beneath him on the floor. His tits hung down like they were ready to be milked, and his thighs eclipsed anything behind him. But even so burdened by his weight, Burger walked on all-fours with seemingly more ease than he did on two legs.

Well, he had a lot more practice like this didn't he? At least for the last few years.

"You excited to play with your new friend?" Ned patted Burger's shoulder.

Burger glanced up, as much as his thick neck allowed, and panted eagerly.

"Better eat all of your dinner, then." Ned gave Burger a playful swat on the rump. "Course you will though, you'll probably be wanting fifths. Guess it's good you have another big boy to eat with."

Joe looked between Burger and Rosco. "They've got to be hungry, let's get dinner served."

***

Joe watched Ned set the food bowls on the floor, alongside a smaller pair filled with milk. "Gotta keep 'em nice and soft, eh?" He winked at Joe. "Go ahead and open that wine bottle, I'll set plates out for us."

Once they were served their first portion, Burger sat patiently, ass pooling out beneath him, legs forced to spread apart by the wealth of belly fat falling between.

With the sweet smell of meat in Rosco's nose, however, the wolf began to walk forward, still slow on hands and knees.

Ned snapped, loud and sharp, stopping Rosco in his tracks as his ears darted up. "Did your daddy give you permission yet?"

Rosco's tail drooped, and after a second of quiet, he let out an exaggerated whine.

Joe was digging the wine opener into the cork, and only dared a glance at Rosco's big, hungry face. "Once Ned and I start eating, you can dig in." A warmth rushed through Joe's body as Rosco obeyed, shuffling backwards.

The wolf glanced at Burger, and sat in the same way, making his fat rolls bunch up on his furry side.

Burger turned and nudged his hooded snout against Rosco's.

"Aww, I think he likes him," Ned cooed.

"Sure does," Joe said, before popping the cork from the bottle. As much as those stumps still made his stomach tighten into a knot, a little part of Joe was glad Burger didn't have sharp horns that close to Rosco.

Though the food was excellent, neither Joe nor Ned paid too much attention to their own dinner.

Rosco and Burger stood over their food bowls, heads dipped down. Burger's hood didn't cover the bottom half of his snout, making it easy for him to eat. Greedy, wet chewing mingled with the deep resonance of swallow after swallow. Clearly, Burger was well-used to eating like an 800-pound head of cattle.

At first, Rosco had been hesitant to really dig in, still getting accustomed to eating like this. But Burger's eagerness seemed to have caught on, and the wolf - Joe's puppy - found his usual gluttonous appetite.

While Rosco took a deep, slurping drink from his milk bowl, Ned pointed at them both. "Look at those puppy butts."

Given how they bent down to eat, Burger and Rosco both had their rumps lifted. Joe stared at Burger's massive cheeks, his briefs riding down more than usual as his little bovine tail flicked happily. "God he's big," Joe murmured.

"Oh yeah," Ned took a sip of wine. "But I've certainly never seen a doggy as plush as your Rosco."

Like Burger, Rosco's underwear was proving itself undersized. The wolf shimmied his legs a bit, clearly trying to make them cover more of him, but he only succeeded in revealing a sliver more of the top of his ass. His cheeks bulged out from where the boxer-briefs pressed into them, making it easy to imagine the soft, yielding flesh in Joe's hands. His thick gray fluff made him all the softer.

"Bet he can't stop those rolls from jiggling when you walk him, huh?" Ned asked.

Walking Rosco. The thought alone made Joe's dick twitch. "Well, maybe, but he's not one for the biggest hikes."

"You don't say," Ned teased. "Burger isn't so athletic either."

Though the sounds of Burger stuffing himself were as strong as ever, Rosco had slowed down. Joe leaned forward and caught sight of his shy gaze drifting on the floor. Maybe all this teasing attention was too much for the wolf.

Before he could say anything, though, Burger pulled his face from his milk bowl and shifted to the side, nudging the bowls over with him, until he stood right up against Rosco. The bull-puppy let the shelves of fat on his flank squeeze against Rosco's rolls.

Rosco glanced at Burger, and the bull leaned in with his snout-fur still dripping milk. His fat bovine tongue drooled out of his mouth, and he gave Rosco a slow, tentative lick along the side of the head.

"Aww," Ned purred.

Joe smiled as Rosco's tail started wagging. "Nothing better than big puppies, huh?" He said.

"Nah." Ned took a bite of his own dinner, and grunted. "Speak of, if either of you boys want seconds, you _both_gotta finish your meals, y'hear?"

Rosco glanced at his bowl, while Burger looked hopefully at him.

Joe's eyes widened as he realized that Burger had finished his already, both the food and milk. So the moose cleared his throat and gave Rosco another order, "Eat up, puppy. I'm sure Burger wants his fifths. You're gonna have at least that much, alright?"

Though he could see the daunting task in Rosco's yellow eyes, his puppy huffed, and bent down again with renewed vigor. And though it was hard to see past Rosco's hanging belly, a little trickle of precum fell from his underwear onto the floor beneath him.

Burger and Rosco both slowed down after the second helping, but Burger was clearly practiced at eating as much as he was told, forging on with a steady and impressive pace. Rosco would lag behind, then push hard to stuff himself and catch back up with the big bull.

As they worked through the fifth serving, Ned leaned forward over the hefty ball of his gut and patted Burger's shoulders roughly. "Almost there, boy."

True enough, Burger had nearly finished, panting between bites and drinks of milk.

Joe got down on a knee beside Rosco, who ate slowly, caught between the discomfort in his stomach and his clear desire to follow his instructions. He reached out and rubbed the wolf's belly. It hung beneath him, at first soft in Joe's hand, but as he pressed up he could feel the tightness beneath all that padding. "You're doing so good, puppy," He said. "Burger's already gotten his fifths. You don't have to finish, want to be done?"

Rosco slurped up another mouthful of milk, leaving that bowl empty while his food was still half-full. He paused, catching his breath, and looked up at Joe needily.

"What is it, boy?" Joe rubbed him between the ears.

While Rosco's eyes shut in pleasure, Ned got up with a grunt. "Seems like he wants to polish off his dinner. I'll get him more milk." As he passed Rosco, he patted his butt. "Once you're done, you can play with your new friend."

Sure enough, with more milk to wash the meat down, Rosco finished the last of the bowl, leaving just sauce-stained bones behind - and a fat-glistening stain of barbecue sauce on his snout.

Joe stood up next to Ned, as the puppies looked up at them with tired eyes.

"I don't know, Ned. They seem a little stuffed to be playing right now."

Ned nodded. "Alright then, boys," he pointed to the living room, where a large rug covered most of the floor, spread out before a wide couch, "you go lay down there." He turned to Joe. "Let's get them cleaned up."

Despite the size of the couch, there wasn't much room with Ned and Joe sitting together, the hippo's gut brushing Joe's side, their shoulders close. Each had a towel in hand - Joe's wetted with warm water, Ned's with cold.

"Burger, here," Ned ordered, pointing at his lap - or what little of it wasn't covered by his paunch.

The bull-puppy had been laying on his side, fat pooling out in front of him, and he struggled back to his hands and knees, wheezing and huffing as he did. When he shuffled forward, his belly brushed against the rug, weighed down that last little bit by the meal. Despite the difficulty, Burger diligently made his way to Ned and planted his head on the hippo's leg.

Joe called, "You too, Rosco."

The chubby wolf whined from his place on the rug. He'd spread out on his back, and seemed to much prefer lounging in his own heft to getting up.

Ned shook his head. "Disobedient again. Show him who's boss."

"Hey," Joe snapped twice, making Rosco's eyes open, although the wolf still didn't move. "Time to get cleaned up. So roll over and come here."

Rosco made a paltry effort to flip over, only showing how much weight he had to move, before fixing Joe with big, sad eyes.

Ned leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Don't think treats are gonna work on him now. Gotta use discipline."

Discipline. Like what? Joe looked Rosco over, and noticed the bulge in his underwear, even if it was overshadowed by his belly. He'd seen the array of tools Ned had in his 'emporium', and though part of him hesitated, his imagining was running wild. "Your teeth aren't the only thing I can lock away, pup." His skin tingled. "If you want anyone to play with your bone tonight, come here."

Ned grinned wide, and Burger let out a soft imitation of a bark, with a tone of warning.

Rosco looked into Joe's eyes, and the wolf seemed to remember that he was a puppy now. His daddy could lock his dick away if he wanted. He had to rock back and forth a few times to flip himself over, but Rosco quickly got to all-fours and waddled over to Joe. He looked at the moose as if asking for forgiveness.

"Up," Joe said, letting the stern tone drop from his voice.

Rosco rose and planted his hands on the couch, between Joe's legs, offering his snout easily.

"Good boy," Joe murmured, and began to dab at Rosco's face. Ned followed suit with Burger, but where Joe's movements were gentle and careful, Ned tugged at Burger's snout, scrubbed his fur, and firmly turned his head for him.

The bull-puppy's eyes were shut in bliss, and as Joe's warm towel softly cleaned Rosco's fur of milk and meat-juices, the wolf's own eyes closed with comfort.

"Down," Ned said, as he tossed his towel onto the couch's arm.

Burger lowered himself fully to the ground again, and Ned kicked his feet up - shoes and all - onto the bull-puppy's side, heels pressing into his flank.

Joe had finished cleaning, but he still held Rosco's snout in his hands. Despite a moment of disobedience, his puppy had such a calm look in his eyes, full of trust in the big, strong man taking care of him. It was still Rosco's lupine face, one pointy tooth poking out from beneath his lip, chin mounted by thick fuzz, big ears with their pink insides. He couldn't bring himself to match Ned's orders. "Since you listened to your daddy," Joe began, "you wanna rest your head in his lap?"

Rosco's yellow eyes narrowed with a smile that reached his fat cheeks, and the puppy leaned forward, nestling the side of his face between Joe's legs, thick gangly arms crossed over his thighs.

Ned patted Joe's shoulder. "You're soft on him, y'know."

"Well, as I said," Joe stroked the sides of Rosco's face, tweaking his ears and feeling out the shape of his skull, "He's a soft puppy."

***

After a good rest to digest some of that heavy meal, Rosco and Burger perked up at Ned's voice, "You puppies want to play with each other some? Go on ahead to the center of the rug there, yeah?"

The pups both got back on all-fours. Rosco stared at Burger, all those crests of flank-fat jostling against each other as he lumbered like an oil tanker. But Rosco's ears flicked. How were puppies supposed to play? He glanced at his daddy on the couch.

Ned leaned in and murmured a few ideas to Joe, one of which seemed to excite the moose.

Joe smiled, taking in both pups eagerly. "How about some puppy wrestling?"

"You heard the man," Ned said.

Wrestling? Rosco tried to adjust his stance, to hold his own at least, but Burger outweighed him by a few hundred pounds.

Burger lowered his shoulders, eyes shining as he let out a soft bark.

"Wrouf!" Rosco answered, arms filled with nervous energy.

The bull-puppy stomped forward, and used his shoulder to lift Rosco by the side, sending the wolf onto the floor.

Despite his excitement, Burger slowed, letting Rosco respond.

He didn't waste the chance, lurching back to his paws and lunging at Burger's side. Rosco wrapped both arms around the bigger pup, until squishy flesh smothered his face. The wolf puppy was quite a few-hundred pounds himself, and he felt Burger start to tip.

But the bull-pup planted his knees even wider than his belly forced him to, and stood solid like a true bovine.

A quiet growling sound came from somewhere, and it took Rosco a moment to realize it was from his own throat. "Bruff!" He barked, though it was muffled into Burger's fat.

"Poor burger, can't cover up all those big targets of yours, huh?" Ned teased from the couch.

Joe stared intently. "Looking like a real wolf there, puppy," he said.

Rosco's chest fluttered, but he quickly found himself teetering backwards as Burger simply shoved into him, leveling the weight of his body to push Rosco onto his folded knees - and further.

"Ourf!" Burger barked back.

Despite his best efforts, Rosco couldn't overpower the bull-pup's size, and he was forced onto his butt. Burger's hanging belly covered his legs, and Rosco knew that if all that beef ended up on top of him, there was no way he could fight his way out from under it.

Without thinking, he followed a simple instinct, confronted by... all that beef_._ He bit, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to threaten it. His mouth filled with oily, sweat-slick tallow, and saliva started to run beneath his tongue.

Burger let out a surprised sound, starting as a moo then turning to an attempt at a canine yip. He tugged away from Rosco, who reluctantly released his bite.

"Careful, boys," Joe warned.

"Oh they'll be alright," Ned assured him. "What else is all that padding for?"

Rosco tried to return to all-fours, but Burger reacted too quickly. The bull-pup lumbered into him, rising onto his knees to match Rosco. Burger wrapped his flour-sack arms around the wolf and leaned forward.

As Burger's head rested above his own, Rosco found himself utterly smothered in the bull's flesh, face squished against his massive breasts, belly pressing on Burger's as if vying for hefty dominance. Rosco tried to bring his arms around Burger in turn, but both of the pups were too thick to actually grasp them around one another.

"Hard to tell where Burger's puppy fat ends and Rosco's begins." Ned chuckled.

"Good thing their fur's different," Joe said.

"Won't be _smelling_very different after this."

Rosco's muscles strained to keep Burger from pressing him down, but the bull-pup didn't even need to put any effort in. His bodyweight was just too much. Before Rosco knew it, he was on his back.

Thankfully, Burger pulled off of him just a bit, so that he held Rosco down at the shoulders rather than fully smothering him. But even so, Burger's blubber flowed down onto Rosco's, even their nipples touching, given the bull-pup's udder-like moobs.

Their sweat mingled until Rosco couldn't tell who it came from, and between his legs, Rosco felt something even more interesting. Burger's lower belly covered Rosco's bulge, and even as the wolf's precum leaked into Burger's fur, a different trail of warm, slick fluid flowed onto Rosco's underwear, dripping down Burger's paunch.

Rosco shifted his thighs, and the momentary focus on his urges gave Burger another opportunity. The bull-pup shuffled back and bent down, huffing with exertion to overcome the squeezing rolls of his own fat, until his snout found Rosco's belly. Rosco tried to struggle, but he couldn't free his legs from under the mountain of steak.

Burger opened his mouth and wrapped it around the heftiest crest of Rosco's middle, slurping up as much soft belly fat as he could before closing his snout and squeezing.

His blunt teeth pressed into Rosco, even tormenting him with the sensitive skin on the underside of his belly. Rosco pawed at Burger's head, whimpering as the bull-pup chewed on him.

He turned to their daddies, but didn't find any sympathetic concern from them. Instead, Ned had unzipped his and Joe's pants. He pulled his underwear down to let his dick spring free, a girthy thing that would have been long if not for the fat pad surrounding its base. "Looks like you were thinking a little too much about your puppy-dick, there, Rosco," he taunted.

"You can be such a needy boy." Joe opened his legs wider, letting Ned reach through the front flap of his briefs. The hippo freed Joe's hefty moose-meat, already fully risen from its sheath, pulsing with heat.

Ned just watched as Burger gnawed at more of Rosco, lapping his sides and nibbling at his tits. "You could learn a thing or two from Burger. Maybe you should get some practice dealing with those naughty urges. I mean," Ned glanced at Joe, "look at him! Humping any part of Burger he can get to."

With sheer embarrassment, Rosco realized that his hips had been rocking back and forth along Burger's belly, trying to pleasure himself through his underwear. His fur prickled. Was Joe going to put a cage on him?

No, he needed to prove that he could be a good puppy. Rosco reached up and shoved at Burger with his whole body, unsteadying him with the sudden motion. He wrapped himself against Burger and strained his thick legs, which were used to moving so much wolf, and carried some real muscle under their blubber. To his surprise, this time Burger couldn't get back to a steady position. Rosco opened his jaws, a trail of saliva hanging between his teeth, and he bit down between Burger's shoulder and neck.

Burger couldn't stop a deep moo from escaping him, as he fell under the sudden force. He landed on his back with a floor-shuddering thud, entire body jiggling beneath Rosco.

The wolf-pup kept his snout locked on Burger, stuffing his face with the thick ridges of fat that ensconced his neck. He growled as he bit, front-paws pressing against Burger's moobs until they distorted under his palms like beaten dough. Rosco tried to straddle Burger, but the bull was so immense that Rosco's knees couldn't touch the ground while he was on top of him. His humping continued, now burdened only by his own weighty hips.

Little traces of heat coursed down Rosco's dick as the fabric brushed against his sensitive flesh, and the bull-pup's belly welcomed him in with a soft, warm embrace.

Ned's hand wrapped around Joe's dick and began to stroke, toying with a few drops of precum. "He really does have a humping problem, doesn't he?" The hippo gave Joe a sinister, pointed look.

Joe huffed as Ned squeezed, and he spoke loudly, "Bad boy, Rosco."

Bad boy? But he'd won the wrestling. Why couldn't he hump the fat bull-pup? Burger seemed to be enjoying it, given the faint, submissive whines he let out between his heaving breaths.

"If you cum without me telling you..." Joe began, though trailed off, his hand drifting to Ned's dick.

Ned picked up, "Want me to get a cage? I've got one that's just right for a sheathed boy like him." He paused, then murmured faintly, "Nice firm hands there Joe."

Joe smiled, and traced a finger up and down Ned's glans. "You hear that Rosco? If you can't keep it in your sheath, we'll make sure you do. Down, boy."

Rosco looked up at Joe, ears flicked back at the sharp tone. His hips were desperate to keep going, but... his daddy did know better, didn't he? Big, dumb puppies couldn't decide for themselves when to cum. As much as his balls ached, and his dick twitched in desperation, Rosco lifted his crotch from Burger. Thick strands of precum stretched between them, and the wolf-pup met Burger's gaze.

Burger huffed and grunted, still trying to catch his breath from the wrestling. But he smiled beneath his hood, and his tallow spread out around him with relaxed looseness.

Slowly, Rosco let go of Burger's neck, his jaw sore from holding on so tightly. He checked for a moment, worried, but he hadn't broken Burger's skin. Although, if not for the fur, his neck would surely be red and flush. He hoped he hadn't hurt him.

Burger seemed to notice the guilt on Rosco's face, and leaned his head up as much as he could, managing to lick along the wolf's snout with his broad bovine tongue.

Rosco bent down and reciprocated, dragging his tongue in long strips up and down Burger's neck, lapping up delicious sweat as he went. Despite all the food in his belly, Rosco found that Burger tasted sweet and meaty, like his namesake.

Joe grunted between two slow strokes from Ned. "Alright, Rosco, let him up." He turned to the hippo. "How about we stuff them a little more?"

"Well, not that I'm opposed to giving them some dessert." Ned paused to let out a breath as Joe twisted his fingers up his shaft. "But..." He looked down at the puppies, and a smile grew on his face. "You know what? Yeah, hop off him, Rosco."

Rosco hesitated for a second, relishing in the warmth of Burger's body, but the bull-pup gave him one last lick, and he shuffled down his side, paws digging into the flowing hills of blubber as he went.

"Up, Burger," Ned commanded.

A sorry whimper emanated from Burger, sounding strange in such a deep and resonant voice. But he obeyed. Or, at least he tried. Burger swung his fat-caked arms upward - a feat in itself - and tried to crunch at the middle to sit up. But whatever muscles he had in his core were no match at all for the overflowing stacks of tallow that bunched up over his belly. Even his breasts, so warm and enticing, betrayed him on the ground, squeezing against his neck and chin.

Burger wheezed, the compressed weight forcing out his breath, and no matter how much his sausage fingers wiggled in desperation, he couldn't even get halfway to sitting. He fell back, trying to catch his breath as his body oozed outwards again.

"Holy shit, he wasn't lying," Joe said with awe. His authoritative tone was gone for the moment, replaced with something much less certain.

"Did the puppy eat himself too big?" Ned's voice was sweeping and slow, like he was talking to a dog. "Well, you sure do love to chow down, don't you?"

Burger panted after the exertion of failing to sit up, the pooling fat of his moobs jiggling with with quickness of his exhales. He moaned softly.

"Look more like an overfed cow than anything else, doggy," Ned continued. "Well, what do you think we ought to do with such a fat boy, Joe?" He stroked Joe's dick again.

After a shiver, Joe answered, an excited, nervous edge on his voice. "Guess he needs help getting up, so he should have to beg for it?"

"Beg, and maybe earn it somehow."

Rosco watched Burger's head lift slightly, as he continued to shift and struggle, vainly trying to flip over onto his front. His eyes were arrested by the sight of Burger like that, an ocean of thick bovine fat rippling and wobbling with his movements, every roll and crest of him shown off by sweat-soaked, dark brown fur. Kneeling so close to him, Rosco's nose was saturated with the oily, savory smell of this fatted bull. He stared at all of that meat, especially the way Burger's thighs strained against his massive briefs - whose white fabric was darkened by sweat stains.

"Puppy," Joe said, breaking into Rosco's focus, "you're drooling."

Rosco paused, then ran a hand under his snout. Sure enough, a thick trail of saliva painted the side of his palm, and had already stained the rug beneath him. Or, was that precum? He could feel the painful straining of his dick against his tight underwear and the weight of his belly. He supposed, if not for Burger's cage, they'd have that in common.

Burger huffed, and looked at Rosco with those big, curious eyes. The bull-pup's toes curled; was a drooling wolf exciting for him? Wasn't it scary? But no, as Burger eyed the steaks on Rosco's underwear, his ears perked up eagerly.

"Looks like this wolf-pup wants you to live up to your name." Ned stood up, not bothering to put his dick away, and loomed over Burger. "Look at you, just a tub of puppy fat." He planted a foot on Burger's belly and leaned forward, until the bull-pup wheezed. "Wanna prove you're a good boy?"

Burger nodded desperately.

Ned looked back over his shoulder. "Is it alright if Rosco gets a treat?"

Joe had to take a moment to answer. All of his solid, masculine features were drawn in awe as his dick twitched between his legs. "Yeah... sure."

Ned stepped back, letting Burger take a few great breaths. "Alright then," the hippo continued, "Our little wuff here is gonna get his jaws on any part of you he wants, Burger, and you're gonna keep that snout shut. Then maybe we'll flip you over."

Burger struggled to look at Rosco over the mound of his own tits and belly, but his huffing breath was from more than just exertion.

Ned dropped his hefty ass back on the couch, and whispered something in Joe's ear that made the moose's brows raise.

"What part do you want to taste, puppy?" Joe asked, with a little tremble to his voice.

Rosco's eyes wandered all across the dark-furred, jiggling mass of bull-flesh in front of him. He tried to keep the idea of Burger as a puppy in mind, but the smell of him was just too potent in Rosco's canine nose; this was blubbery, mooing meat. And the wolf noticed that though most of Burger's briefs were covered with the excess of his belly, a pool of precum had gathered between those gargantuan thighs on the floor.

He pressed Burger's belly out of the way, making the bull take a sharp, surprised breath to muffle the start of a noise. With pounds of sweaty beef pressing down onto his hands, Rosco stared at Burger's loins. Those straining briefs were bulging with the bull's fat pad, completely soaked through with slick fluid. But there were more shapes, too, just a bit further down.

Rosco lowered his head, and using his teeth like a good puppy, tugged down on the overtaxed elastic, fighting against Burger's thighs until his prize was revealed to him. While Burger's dick was completely buried in fat, with the flat metal front of his chastity cage concave in his pad, a pair of massive, shiny balls hung beneath. Without his briefs in the way, their heft rested on the floor, contained in a nice loose sack.

"You like tender meat, huh boy?" Ned cooed to him, the wrinkles of his face alight with a grin.

But Rosco didn't have much focus to spend on him. The smell of Burger was so intense that his nose nearly blotted out his other senses. Precum, musk, sweat, beef, and however much pent-up testosterone Burger dealt with filled Rosco's nostrils until his head started to spin.

Rosco let Burger's belly lower onto the back of his head as he gripped Burger's thighs, and brought his snout down to those big, beautiful orbs.

Burger moaned behind his shut mouth as Rosco's fat tongue explored the side of his sack.

"Better get your taste before we muzzle you for the night, Rosco," Joe said warmly.

His daddy's words, and Burger's salty, oily skin pushed Rosco on. He opened his mouth and slurped Burger's left testicle into his jaws. Trying both was daunting, given their size, but one was more than enough to enjoy. It was so warm, and filled Rosco's snout. The soft skin gave little resistance to his probing tongue as he felt out the oblong shape, and the thick, powerful cords connecting to it.

Rosco huffed, legs trembling as he fought against the urge to stroke his own dick. He focused on the flesh in his mouth instead. He'd seen bull balls, and during spring Joe's got close to this size, but he'd never sucked on a real bovine sack before. While he was careful with his teeth, Rosco found a little spark of his carnivore nature and teased the sack skin. Burger whimpered. With all this bovine masculinity on his tongue, Rosco could practically feel Burger's seed churning inside. He hadn't gotten release for three years, how much thick bull cum was backed up in here?

Burger's whining breaths clearly begged Rosco to move his maw up, to lavish his dick with that same lupine tongue. A vain request, of course.

The fur bristled on the back of Rosco's neck at the thought of being locked in a cage like that. So desperate, but denied of the basic pleasure of cumming. So he did what he could for the bull-pup - and to satisfy his own predator instinct - and stuffed his mouth even more.

He dragged Burger's other ball past his lips, shuffling forward until his snout pressed up against the base of Burger's sack. The bull's testicles sunk deeper into his mouth until Rosco's pudgy cheeks bulged outward with them. He tugged, slurped, and even very gently gnawed on them, each motion sending Burger into a frantic fit of gasping and snorting.

But he obeyed his master, keeping his snout shut.

"Holy shit, puppy." Ned laughed. "Not many boys can get both of those oysters in one gulp."

"He's got a lot of practice stuffing his face," Joe said with fondness.

Rosco spent a few minutes playing with Burger's sack, his head becoming soaked in the bull-pup's sweat. Burger's precum poured from his caged dick, smothering Rosco's snout until it dripped from his chin.

"Alright boys," Joe began, his voice muffled by all of Burger's fat around Rosco's ears. "Enough playing. Your daddies have something better for you to do."

While he was reluctant to obey, Rosco couldn't forget the stifled, caged mast of bull-meat above his snout, and how easily his own daddy could tame him down if he was a bad boy. So, he finally let those balls slide back onto the floor, precum and drool painting his snout as he pulled himself out from between Burger's thighs.

"Let's get this fat pup off his back," Ned grunted as he stood. "Then we'll put those muzzles to real use."