Milking Him For All He's Worth
A super big thanks to Tybbie for proof-reading and for giving me the premise when I was starved for a quick, short story to write. Thanks!
Steel. That was the only thing the bull could sense when he woke up besides the dull pain in the back of his head. He was hit there... As he woke up in complete blindness he remembered the last few moments of consciousness: walking down his street, feeling a paw on his shoulder, then pain and darkness. Kristov's senses returned to him while his eyes opened to darkness. He came to feel a coarse cloth tied around his head, keeping him blind. He was blindfolded, so, someone had put that pain in his head? His ears, too, picked up something. They twitched at the sound of water dripping right behind him, the collision of each drop echoing no less than twice. He was in a big room, then. His tongue tasted nothing but an absence-he was very thirsty. He'd been out for a while, then, obviously. Kristov's nose was the last faculty to return to him, but it came back with little force. He smelt rust, old wood, and the faint smell of a wolf, but he couldn't be sure. As far as Kristov could tell from those four senses, he was in a basement, or warehouse... someplace nobody came often, at the very least. That was bad for him. He then felt more than the steel, he felt water dripping onto his head, as well as behind him... was there a leaky pipe above him? In the final moments of his touch regaining sensitivity he felt a pain in his arm, like he'd been stuck with a needle recently, and a cold, concrete floor beneath him.
The sense that had been there from the beginning, the one that had woken him up, was that sense of touch. The steel. He was sitting on a steel chair. His arms were bound by steel loops to the armrests, and his ankles shared a similar bondage with the front legs. It also hugged him around the waist, keeping him pressed back against the chair if he were to squirm. He felt every bit of that steel, too - he was quite aware he was completely stripped of his business suit, his shoes, his socks, even his jockstrap. Naked.
So there he was. The number one accountant of the Romanov family, a bull rich beyond his dreams, stripped and bound to a cold, steel chair. Kristov's head jerked around in a panic. His arms and legs tried to do the same, but he couldn't move very much. His thighs managed to spread out slightly; however, that only caused one of his exposed balls to slide down against the thick, muscular thigh, and land against the chair - a part un-warmed by his body heat. The bull gasped and jumped, but that only caused his other hefty orb to fall down, also getting a jolt of that cold chair. What did his captors want? Money? To get back at the Romanov mob? Was he a random target?
The bull knew exactly what was going on when he felt the surprising grace of a wolf's finger tracing down his scared, confused face. The smell up close was undeniable - a wolf. From the angle of the paw, a tall one, probably taller than even the bull himself at 6'4". Kristov shuddered as the finger traced down his cheek, down his neck, then down to his chest... only one family toyed with captured enemies like that. "Who are you?!" the bull boomed out, knowing his voice still had power. Even if he was bound, blindfolded, degraded by the humiliating touch of that wolf, he was still big. He was tall, broad, and as thickly muscled as any other employee of the Romanov family. Their motto was that any link in the chain had to meet the standard of fitness, to hold one's own in a fight. The sight of him, the bull hoped, would still be imposing since his bulk was on display.
"Peotr. Peotr Zephyrivich Eskachoff," came a reply in much, much deeper voice than the one the bull produced, full of a rich Slavic accent. Even in its calmness the wolf's speech trembled with a powerful rumbling. Kristov felt the male do something very unexpected - he snaked each leg in under the arm rests of the steel chair and sat down in the bull's lap, chest-to-chest. The wolf was naked, Kristov could tell by the feeling of bare fur against his and-perhaps more potently-the strong scent of the wolf's musk. Some of it came from the body, yes, but there was no mistaking the wolf's crotch for clothed.
"Fuck," gasped the bull, groaning at the sheer weight. The wolf was heavier than he was, that was for sure. Kristov looked up, trying to blindly look at where the wolf's head was, where his ears told him that ever-present rumbling was coming from. The height was enormous, and if the bulk of the abs pressed against his chest were any indication of the rest of him, he had far more muscle than the bull. "P-Peotr, I'm just an accountant," he said, gulping fearfully. He felt the wolf's thighs come closer together, squeezing and flexing against the bull's sides. "D-don't hurt me," he pleaded, looking down again as the squeezing continued. The constriction wasn't unpleasant in truth - it just caused discomfort, feeling another male's thighs holding his own when they weren't in some kind of wrestling match. The bull couldn't see the muscles, no, but he felt them twitch and flex against his sides and could smell the musk coming from them just as he could the crotch, or the proud male's chest.
"I am not here to hurt you, tovarisch," said the wolf. While still keeping his thighs squeezing the torso of the bull, Peotr shifted forward, bringing his hips closer to the bull's. "I know you are an accountant. That is what I want. Last week the Romanovs took a good deal of money from us... your assistant broke last night to me. Told me the cash stolen was in its own account for the next month. You're going to tell me what it is.
"Jesus!" yelled the bull. When the wolf shifted towards him, he felt something brush against his own thighs, in between, then dragged up. The wolf's balls. Kristov's were large, yes, and bloated. Heavy by any standard. The Eskachoff's, on the other hand, were ridiculous. Kristov couldn't help but to shudder at the sheer size and weight of them. The bull felt the other's balls eventually pressed overtop of his own, then against his sheath, completely out-sizing them both. "I'm not giving you that number." Kristov blinked as the water dripping on his head finally ran down the side of his face, giving him a chill.
"What's the matter? Too used to Romanov prides, if they dare call them that?" he asked. Kristov could hear the wolf's grin in his voice.
"The Romanov family aren't male-lovers. Neither are their employees," the bull responded, proudly. Or, rather, as proudly as he could, feeling emasculated by the heavy sac putting his own crotch to shame. To try and make himself feel a bit better, Kristov reminded him that the wolf's 'pride' would probably emasculate an orca. "Did you hear me? I'm not giving you that number. But if you don't give me water, I'll die, and then the Romanovs will be angry," he said.
"Da, I heard you. I just tire of hearing it. Perhaps if I ever had a prisoner who lived up to that promise, I could take it seriously," said the wolf. Again, Kristov could hear the grin just as loudly as the words. "Now, water... I can give you water. But you won't like how. You bulls are all full of too much pride. So are the Romanovs," he said.
Kristov grit his teeth. He knew he had to drink, no matter how he got it. "Give me water," he said. "I'm not part of your mob war. I deserve that much," he told the wolf, before again shifting in his seat. He was trying to move the weight of the wolf in his lap just a bit to get some relief - there was none to be found. "Please. Just water," he said.
"Alright," he said, "I've brought you some water. If you reject, it'll be a whole day before I offer you more," the wolf warned. After seeing the nod from the bull, Peotr snapped his fingers, then leaned himself forward. Kristov felt the wolf's huge, huge cock press against his front, completely erect.
Kristov's eyes widened, not that it did much good through the blindfold. Who was the snap to? And why was the wolf so aroused? The bull suppressed a whimper of complete embarrassment as he heard footsteps coming towards them. Somebody else had been in the room the whole time, and was watching what was going on between the two males. "Who's that?!" he panicked.
"Thank you, Nikolai," said the wolf, not directly answering his prisoner. The wolf shifted his weight forward on the bull, unintentionally offering him some relief for a few moments.
Nikolai, thought the bull, giving a sniff. He knew this scent. Nikolai wasn't an Eskachoff! He was a Romanov, another wolf! What was going on? The bull tried to hide his surprise. Surely Nikolai was there under a cover, or was he a traitor? Kristov had to assume he was under a guise, for fear of giving away the guise of a loyal Romanov, if indeed he was one. While not quite as big as Peotr or Alexei, the largest of the Eskachoff family, he had a reputation for being one of the more cold-hearted of the higher-ups. Kristov wondered how drinking water could possibly be humiliating... he got his answer. He felt a metal tip against his lips. He poked his tongue curiously against it, found a hole in the tip. It was a nozzle. What was so humiliating about that? Not any more humiliating than being tied up and naked. The bull assumed it was just a nozzle, so, he leaned his head forward and tried to wrap his lips around it. To his horror it was not a normal nozzle... his lips kept opening as he pushed forward. He felt fake veins out of the metal thing, and after sudden push of the thing by Peotr he felt a mushroom head slide past his lips and teeth. It was wide, almost too wide to have in his maw. There was a fucking dildo in his maw! The bull pulled away, but, the dildo went with him. He couldn't open his maw up enough to spit it out on his own, and his paws were otherwise trapped, still. For all of Peotr's purposes, there was a fake cock stuck in his face. "You're sick!" yelled the bull, though his voice was muffled by the thing.
The wolf just laughed. "You're going to drink all of the water," he said. "To drink, all you have to do is suck."
Kristov couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Suck? The bull thought about it... it was degrading to suck on it, yes, but he needed water. He didn't know if he could wait another day before being able to drink. With a blush coming to his cheeks the bull exhaled through his nose and deeply inhaled. To his surprise he got no water, only air out of the phallus. His head darted from one side to the other before trying to suck another time, only to get air again.
"I've just got to attach the tube..." said Peotr.
The bull could hear the wolf's grin again. He felt the wolf shift in his lap and lean forward, rubbing his cock more against the bull's abs. He heard some metal grinding above him, the dull thud of what sounded like a pale of water. To confirm his suspicions, a splash of water came down on his head, making the bull jump. "Hey!" he yelled, his voice still muffled.
"I'm adjusting, it's hard with the run-off valve," the wolf growled, before settling back down in the bull's lap. "There. Suck now," he said.
Kristov closed his eyes and shame, even though they weren't visible to begin with. He tightly wrapped his lips around the cock, exhaled through his nose, and deeply suckled at the fake cock. To his delight cool, refreshing water rushed into his maw. Some leaked out the corner of his lips onto his chest, but, he swallowed enough of it to quench his thirst. He felt the wolf try and pull the cock away a little, and laugh as he leaned forward to keep sucking on the thing, no longer caring about the humiliation of that - he did, however, care about the wolf's paws he felt working over his sheathe and heavy balls, which seemed bigger than he'd remembered. As he drank the water he couldn't help but let the touches get to him, especially when the wolf grinded his massive sac against his crotch. There was simply too much stimulation to avoid getting hard! His cock slipped out of his sheath and rose, sliding up against the much larger wolf's. The bull still didn't care enough, though, all he could think about was getting his thirst quenched. By the time he was sucking on air instead of water he was rock-hard and pulsing against Peotr.
"Good bull," said the Russian wolf. "Now... sit still. Nikolai," he said, as if the name was a command in itself.
Kristov tried to spit the dildo out, but, he still couldn't, even made slick by the water. He tried to push it out with his tongue, but, only ended up looking like he was trying to give some serious head to it, and that wasn't something he wanted to do in front of the male-loving wolf at the moment. The bull heard shuffling from the side, Nikolai was getting something out of what sounded like a box. Whatever it was, it was metal... definitely metal. The bull jumped, feeling more steel against his body - this time against his cock. He felt a cold loop of it attach around the base, then felt one around his midsection, and then just under his tip. "What?!" he cried out, but his voice was still very muffled. He shivered from the coldness, but, for some reason didn't recede. He felt a sort of tight sheath, perhaps rubber, fit over his tip and attach to the top loop of steel, then felt a wire running down the side of his cock, from the top loop to the base. "What is this?" he asked again, hoping he was understandable.
"Nothing your assistant didn't survive..." said the wolf, who leaned back for a moment. Kristov could feel the Romanov putting the steel loops around the wolf's cock, too... why both of them? "Now... what is the first digit of the account number?" he asked, his voice becoming sickeningly sweet.
The bull shook his head, refusing to even give that.
"Fine... let it begin," said the wolf.
That's when the bull felt it. He'd been expecting some sort of electric zap, but no... he felt a wave. Without explanation he felt like he was getting ten blowjobs, all at once... the pleasure was surging through his cock, his sac, his hips... his thighs rippled and flexed with the sensation, and he felt the wolf's thighs flex against his body and squeeze tighter, as if the wolf was feeling the same thing. What were those rings doing to him? Within only a few moments of the intense pleasure it happened. Kristov yelled against the dildo and thrashed in his seat underneath the wolf. He came, shooting rope after rope of cum into that rubber sheath. The wolf in front of him was rocking his hips in the same manner, growling pleasantly, obviously experiencing his own forced orgasm. When his yell stopped he heard a pouring above him, like the bucket was being refilled. In his shocked state, still cumming for longer than he ever had before, he figured it must be a refill of water, since he'd drained the last bucket.
When Kristov's orgasm finally stopped the bull moaned and leaned back. "Fuck you..." he said, again overtop of the dildo.
"Drink," ordered the wolf, roughly.
The bull whimpered and just nodded, his mind blank in the afterglow. He felt humiliated for being forced to cum, but, realized it could be worse - he could be in pain! He tightened his lips around the dildo just like last time. He exhaled through his nose, then, inhaled as sharply as he could to get that water... his maw was flooded by a thick, salty substance. The bull coughed when he realized what it was. Horrified, he coughed again and forced some out of the corners of his lips, making the cum dribble down either side of his maw... that wasn't getting rid of the bulk of the sucking, though. Fearing he would gag from the unfamiliar taste of a male's seed he winced and gulped it down, his chest even heaving in a sob as he did so. "You're sick!" he called out in that muffled voice.
He heard Peotr laugh, "Yes..." he said, still murring from his own orgasm. "That bucket is almost full from the two of us. I suggest you drink it, because if any of our cum reaches the floor... well. Then I let Igor take over your interrogation. He uses knives instead of orgasms to get what he wants, bull, so... first digit," he requested again. "If you don't want to tell me yet... I suggest you drink. Unless you would enjoy having my dear brother take his knife to your extremities," he said, again in that sweet voice.
The bull shook his head. Kristov was terribly afraid, and didn't want to do anything. Give him a digit? That was betraying the Romanovs. Sucking on the dildo? That would mean more cum, which the bull couldn't take! It was seed, his own and another wolf's. It was disgusting!
Peotr growled, "Last chance before I do it again. You might be thinking that cumming again won't yield such a volume. I would disagree. We Eskachoffs are experts at pleasure... you've heard we can impregnate males. Even captured ones like yourself. We can build muscle without steroids, improve the mind with a single dosage... do you really think speeding up a certain metabolism is beyond us?" he asked, accentuating his point by rubbing his balls against the bull's.
Kristov could feel the heavy sac against his... it was barely lighter, and his had only shrunk a little, too! Certainly not enough to make up for the near-full bucket the wolf was claiming. Still, the captured male couldn't react. He still had the taste of seed on his tongue, after all. He was practically in shock from it. So the bull kept still and simply hoped the mobster would leave him alone!
"You force my paw," said the wolf, though his voice had a clear tone of enjoyment in it.
The bull felt it again. His body writhed in his seat and against the wolf, his lips parted as much as they could to yell. The incredible feeling of a mawless suction overtook his cock and he came, again yelling from it. His cock pulsed and throbbed as he fed the sheathe jet after jet of his seed. Kristov felt the wolf on him writhe and growl as he did before. The bull figured that the wolf was being just as humiliated as he was. After all, he was being forced to orgasm too, wasn't he? More degradation came to him as he realized the truth of it. Peotr was choosing when to orgasm, and forcing the bull along with him. He was also controlling it, being reserved... not yelling and squirming like the pitiful male beneath him was. As he came for even longer than the last time he heard the bucket above him filling, and filling, before it happened again. Water had fallen on him before, now he felt the thick ooze of the two males pour down from the bucket onto the very front of his headfur. The bull thrashed in his chair to get away from the stream, but, it kept on pouring, until he felt the cum rush down from his hair. It ran over his face, over the blindfold, down his muzzle to his nose, over his cheeks to violate his neck... the horrible, disgusting cum only seemed to stop when the thick liquid ran through the thick fur over his chest. Kristov finally understood what the wolf was talking about... if the bull didn't drink, the bucket would overflow everything onto his face, which would run down his body. If it reached the floor, he would be tortured - but before that happened nearly every inch of his body would be covered in the cum of males. The thought was repulsive.
"I see you understand my point now, bull..." said the wolf, grinning. "Now... I'm going to give you a choice. I can have Nikolai force us to cum right now, which would cover more of you... or I can give you 60 seconds to drink as much as you can. If you pick the second, I need a first digit," he growled.
Kristov thought quickly... he couldn't get tortured. Not by an Eskachoff. "Nine!" he yelled.
"Nine? Very good..." said the wolf. "Sixty seconds. Go."
The bull didn't do anything at first. He sat there for a few seconds, feeling the hard, metal dildo in his maw... he wrapped his lips around it like the last time, exhaled through his nose, and sucked half-heartedly. Some cum spurt into his maw. This time it wasn't a surprise, but, it was no less shocking. It was salty, tangy, and the texture was unlike anything the bull had ever eaten before that day. With another heave of a sob he gulped it down, then felt a shudder of disgust run through his body again. Kristov took a few seconds to recuperate, to work up the courage to suck again. When the courage came he sucked more cum, until his maw was full and it was running out the sides of his lips... with a sickened moan he gulped part of it down, then another, and then another until his maw was free to just drink down more.
"Thirty seconds," the wolf warned, "but good job, bull... you're getting the hang of it. Drink faster, though, or Igor will have you screaming those numbers out in thirty minutes flat."
The bull sucked on the dildo again and felt more salty cum jet against his tongue. He tried to gulp, but, only ended up gagging on the taste. His maw was still full of cum when he heard that word from the wolf,
"Time."
The orgasm came again. "Fuck!" the bull yelled, his voice not only muffled now, but garbled. His body squirmed and thrashed as the two males came, spurting seed up into that bucket again. The bull sobbed and whined when the bucket filled enough to run out onto his head, to run down his face again... as the cum crawled down his chest and reached out to cover his nipples the bull realized he was in trouble. Panicked, he forced himself to gulp and suck at a mad pace. He sucked the biggest load he could manage into his maw and gulped, his throat almost hurting from how much he tried to take down with each. When he was fiercely gulping the cum was only trickling down onto him, and even stopped when he really sucked down. All the bull could taste, all the bull could even think about was the taste of cum from the bull and the wolf. It was in his stomach, in his throat, it even lined every surface inside of his mouth. When their orgasms stopped he breathed heavily, trying to catch up on the breathing he'd given up for the sake of drinking cum. He was so full! His stomach felt like it was going to burst already.
"Give me the account number," growled the wolf.
"No..." murmured the bull, who worryingly sucked down another three gulps worth of cum from the bucket hanging above.
"Give me the next two numbers, or you won't get your thirty seconds to drink."
"Five..." the bull stammered, before drinking another gulp, hoping the pause would stall for some time.
"The next number!" yelled the wolf.
Kristov shook his head and inhaled on the dildo, sucking on it to pour more cum into his maw. He gulped it down, but, not as quickly as before - he couldn't! His stomach hurt from the sheer amount he'd swallowed so far.
"Time," the wolf said.
Kristov tried to brace for it, tried to will his cock not to fall for the tricks those electronic loops were playing on him... but it didn't work. The two were cumming again, the bucket was filling, and all that was in Kristov's head was the need to keep the cum off of his body, the need to stay out of the paws of a torturer. As he came and spurted out shot after shot of seed he sucked at the dildo, trying his best to swallow the bucket down whole... he couldn't do it. Eventually his throat simply stopped gulping it down, he was so full! So the bull sat there, sucking, his cheeks puffing out to keep as much of the seed out of the bucket as he could. It was futile, though, as eventually the seed poured out from his lips, joining the cum that was falling down onto him. Without drinking the spooge, the waves of cum were splashing all over him. His abs were the next target: the pool of cum on his body stretched down, filling up his belly button and rippling over his abs... the viscous cum also reached his back by hugging around his sides. When their orgasms stopped his cum was covering his cock, his balls, his thighs, the chair beneath. His stomach was full, bulging even from how much he'd eaten.
The wolf laughed. "You can't take one more hit, bull. Give me the account number. Will you give it to me now?" he asked.
The bull thought. He couldn't take one, could he? He tried to swallow down a gulp or two so he could speak, but, he couldn't drink any more. Kristov resigned himself and gave a weak, defeated nod, his expression underneath the blanket of cum speaking only of complete and utter humiliation.
Kristov felt the wolf pull the dildo out of his maw.
The bull leaned his head forward and coughed, spewing out a big, big maw-full of cum onto his face and chest, which only caused the spooge to pool on the very, very edge of that chair. It then hit him very, very hard - he was covered. Completely and utterly covered. He had to get it showered off of him, otherwise it would dry and... well. That wouldn't be pretty, at least not pretty for him. All the bull wanted was to be clean, to digest that cum, to get out of that god forsaken chair... he would do anything.
"Speak," ordered the wolf. "Tell me the account number."
"It's... Nine... Five... Six.... Two... Seven..." he said, slowly giving the number while pushing cum out of his maw with his tongue, wanting the taste out of him. "Can you let me go, now?" he asked, after giving the rest of the digits.
The wolf ran his paw down the cum-covered chest of the bull. "I need to confirm the account. After the transfer is done, I'll let you go," he said, sliding off of his captured male's lap. Kristov heard the sound of the metal loops on the wolf's cock being undone.
The bull shook his head, "No, no! That'll take a day!" he exclaimed, "Let me out of here, please," he begged.
The wolf grabbed the bull's jaw and forced it down, then, shoved the metal dildo back in. "Nikolai," he said, "set the milker to run every... five minutes. He'll need another dose of the drug in a few hours. If you lied to me, bull, I'll get the money some other way... you'll never get out of that chair," he growled.
The bull began to really, really regret giving those fake numbers.
Kristov was stunned into silence. He heard Peotr leave the big, open space... he'd been completely humiliated, and it was all done without him even seeing the ones who did it to him. Kristov sat in silence and leaned his head back, trying to move his body back and forth slightly, to prevent the cum from drying rigidly. Peotr couldn't have been serious, could he? An entire day like this, more if he lied? And why hadn't Nikolai left?
As the next orgasm hit him the bull sucked on the dildo, drinking down just a few sips more of their seed. The rest rushed out of the bucket and onto him, sliding down his body to cover more and more fur. He felt the slimy spooge run down his legs, pool on the chair to run up against his own tailhole, and even heard it start to drip and stream onto the cold floor beneath him. He figured that he only had another orgasm or two to go before he would feel the cum start drying into his fur and against his skin...
That's when he felt heated breath brush against his ear, felt a lick up inside of his earcup, one so strong it made the bull shudder. "If I were you," the wolf said, "I would have given him the real number. At least then, we would have just shot you." Nikolai gave the bull a second lick, this time along his cheek, lapping up cum of the wolf and bull with a nice swallow after. Nikolai then left, leaving Kristov to his torture and humiliation.
It was all the bull would ever have.