FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This story took me about half a year to concieve, give birth to, and write down.

My explicit thanks to go to A.P.Damien, who is present here as well(APDamien), whom without this never would have been possible. He has given me advice in style and wording, has prodded me on whenever I hit a block, and has weeded legions of spelling errors from my writing. This story would not be here without him at all, so please give him credit as well.

This story is copyrighted by me, Akeela. Please do not distribute it without giving credit to me and A.P.Damien. You are not allowed to use this story commercially.

The sun was setting when Greg pulled his pickup in front of the garage. It had been a hard day at work, sweat-soaked dirt had caked all over his broad chest and back, and his muscles were aching in just the right way -- the way that told you that you worked just a little too hard for how you were built, the way that told you your body would compensate by getting a little stronger very soon.

Greg was working construction, and this week, he'd been assigned to help out with the railroad crew, exchanging rotten sleepers for new ones. There was not much of a chance to use machinery here, the gravel had to be dug out by hand, and the sleepers had to be moved out of and into place by hand as well. By his species, Greg was cut out for hard, manual labour, the draft horse standing more than two and a half meters tall, none of his 150 kilos fat - pure muscle, from his soft ears down to the massive, dinner-plate sized hooves at the bottom of his pillar-like legs. Of course, being built like that always got him the hardest part of the work, and he didn't mind taking the edge off the job for his co-workers. Still, being bent over the whole day while the mid-western summer sun was trying to fry the skin of your back....

"Ah, well," thought Greg to himself as he dug the keys out from his ragged jeans' pocket, "nothing like coming home after a hot day, enjoying the airco for a while, maybe with a nice beer..."

As the key slipped into the lock, the door was opened from the inside, and a ball of orange and black fur exploded through the air, hitting Greg squarely in the chest. The furball extended arms and legs, wrapping them around the horse's neck and pelvis respectively. It also produced a tongue that flicked against Greg's nose in a frantic, excited rhythm.

"Welcome home, love!" the furball chittered, and pressed his lips against Greg's in a kiss. "Ohhh, you're all sweaty and dirty, you must have had a horrible day..."

The furball, of course, was Ben -- the kitten that Greg had adopted years ago. Well, adopted was probably not the right word for the process that brought them together, it was more like Ben had decided that Greg was the guy he wanted to live with, and moved in, leaving little for Greg to say on that matter. It wasn't a bad thing though, the horse still remembered that day very fondly, and had grown to love the crazy little cat with all of his heart. Coming home to such a welcome surely beat returning to an empty house, and Ben was talented at cooking and housekeeping.

Ben disentangled himself from his lover, dropped to his paws and grinned.

"Dear, no way I'm going to let you in with this kind of dust and grime on yourself and your clothes. Off with you to the back porch. I'm going to help you with your boots." With those words, Ben turned around and marched back into the coolness of the house, his tail swinging behind him.

As Greg watched the figure disappear with a sigh, he once more took in his partner's lithe form, the body shorter than one and a half meters, the dark orange fur with the black tiger stripes, the cute paws, the pointed ears... and of course, the tell-tale tail, which Ben never seemed to have under conscious control, and which told Greg his lover's state of mind at any time.

Shaking his head, the horse pulled the door closed and plodded around the house to the back porch. He was halfway through taking off his jacket when the back door opened, and Ben arrived with a bucket of water, complete with scrubbing brush and terrycloth towels.

"Stand still, dear," the cat murmured, taking the jacket from the horse and throwing it over the railing. His nimble fingers made short work of the belt-buckle, continued to undo the buttons of the jeans, and then ran down the horse's legs to the horse's massive boots.

Normally, he didn't need any footwear, but health and safety regulations demanded to wear foot protection in the kind of work Greg was in, and so he had some -- thick soles, made from tire grade rubber, fastened to his hooves with a complex network of straps, buckles and ties. They were a pain to put on, but in the end, Greg thought he liked them, not the least because they provided much better traction on artificial surfaces than his natural hooves.

With practiced ease, Ben undid the clasps and knots that held the boots in place, allowing Greg to step out of them and pull down his jeans.

"Mrrrrrrr. Wearing no underwear again, I see...."

Right. Because of the weather, Greg had decided against shorts this morning, and now he regretted that decision. He knew that tone of voice from Ben, that throaty purr that sneaked into his speech and made the "R's" sound like something else completely.

"Ben... no, please. I'm too exhausted now, come on.... let me have a shower and some food first, okay? I promise I'll make good for it later.... please?"

Greg looked down at the cat, fluttering his long eyelashes like a coy puppy, lips pouted slightly, shoulders sagging and pulling forward a little. The sight of the massive stallion trying to look small and shy was so ridiculous that Ben couldn't help giggling, the tip of his tail curling into an amused spiral. "Oh.... all right, you big goof. You're off the hook.... for now, that is. Hurry with the shower, I got spaghetti and meatballs on the stove, and they're going to be ready in ten minutes, tops."

With a sigh of relief, Greg stepped into the house, made a beeline for the bathroom and turned up the shower even before the door was closed completely. Standing under the torrent of water, he just let it stream over him, giving the hard dirt time to soak and soften up a little before he went to rubbing shampoo into his fur. He methodically lathered up his chest and shoulders, then worked his way downwards, taking extra time to work the soap into his tail and the fur around his sheath and balls. He knew very well how ripe these parts of him could get when he was sweating, and even if he'd wash twice a day, there wouldn't be any chance for anyone with a nose to mistake him for something else than the big, virile stallion he was. Once he was content that most of the dirt was washed down the drain, he shut off the water, wrapped a towel around his hips and marched into the kitchen, following the scent of roasted garlic, fresh tomatoes, and italian herbs.

"This smells wonderful," he rumbled as he sat down in front of his plate, "Really, I don't know how I earned this."

"I know how you're going to earn it," said Ben as he heaped spaghetti onto the horse's plate, "You're going to work hard for it, making your kitten mewl and yowl after dinner."

Ben grinned, filled his plate as well and finally sat down. "So... how was your day, after all?"

They talked as they ate, Greg speaking about his work and his colleagues, Ben recounting his day, which was filled with housework, shopping and cooking.

"So, nothing special today, dear," the cat concluded. "Other than I missed you, of course, but that is nothing unusual either."

"I missed you too, kitten," smiled Greg, "There was this coyote over at lunchbreak, some kind of delivery guy, totally horny and so eager to get fucked it was almost comical. Richard finally took him to the equipment shack and did him... Forcing me to work with a boner down my pants for half an hour afterwards."

"Isn't Richard that wolf I met at the christmas party once?" Ben's ears had picked up at the story, and his tail was swishing behind him. "That nice, big, buff wolf with the blue eyes? The one I found so sexy?"

"That's the one," nodded Greg, "And from the sounds the yote made, he knows what he's doing."

"He can't be as good as you."

The cat practically flowed from his chair, slipped under the table, and seconds after that, Greg felt Ben's head sliding between his thighs. Moments after, with the towel out of the way and a throaty purr from Ben, a small, rough tongue began flicking against Greg's sack, covering it with a series of tiny and fast licks.

Greg leaned back in his chair, a deep and long sigh escaping from his muzzle. This was exactly what he needed right now, Ben's rough tongue caressing and stimulating him. It took only seconds for the mottled black shaft to appear at the tip of its sheath, uncoiling like a python form a hollow in a tree. More and more of the hefty tube appeared, still soft and flexible, bending down and pushing outwards between Ben's ears.

"Hrrrrrrrrrrrr......", Ben purred, never missing a lick in his frantic rhythm, now placing his hands left and right on the insides of Greg's thighs, claws extended just enough to comb through his fur. Only when the horse's entire shaft had extended and was beginning to firm up did he move his muzzle upwards, from the ballsac to the sheath, and further up to the very base of Greg's pole. Longer, more gentle licks were appropriate here, and Ben put his neck into it. Above him, Greg moaned. Muscles twitched under Ben's fingers, and the massive thighs moved further apart, opening themselves for the cat.

Greg looked down to where the striped cat was now working his way up to the medial ring of the stallion's shaft, both hands clasped around the base, fingers barely touching. The purring transferred into his meat as faint vibrations, something he never experienced before he met Ben, and something that he had grown to love. It didn't fail in its effect today, letting blood flow down between his legs, into his shaft, and making it grow even more, in size as well as thickness. Slowly, the great pole began to straighten itself, lifting the tip up from behind Ben's head, until it finally stood proud and impressive, reaching past the stallion's belly, the flat, broad tip glistening wetly from the first drops of precum.

Ben pulled back his head, his pink tongue sweeping across his lips. Stretching his legs and body, he came up between Greg's legs, now standing with a grin on his face, and his hands still on the stallion's meat. Gently spreading the clear, oiliy liquid of his pre over the tip, Ben purred again, his eyes on Greg's face.

"Fuck me, big boy," he said softly, pressing down on the massive shaft, tickling another moan from the stallion.

"You sure?" Greg rumbled, woken from the pleasant lull of the cat's ministrations. "I don't have to.."

"Yes, I am sure," Ben replied, and let go of Greg. "I want you, and I want you right now." Taking one step back, Ben extracted himself, stepped out into the living area of the house and lowered himself onto the carpet there, never taking his eyes off the stallion. Stretching out on his back, he lifted his legs, grabbing his own knees with both

hands. Spread and bent this way, he presented his tiny, pink star to the stallion, the tip of his tail lashing left and right in excitement.

"Allright," murmured Greg, "I'll get the lube...."

"No time," replied Ben, "I need you now, right now... so come on, you're wet enough."

"But, Ben..." Greg complained, but stopped on his way out, turning around to face the cat. The view did turn him on, and with a twitch, his shaft shed annother drop of his excitement. "It's gonna hurt...."

"Yesssss, it is... and I want it that way... or are you to weak to take this way?"

"But....." With a sigh, Greg dropped to his knees, overshadowing the lithe frame of his mate as he made his way into the correct position. "You're one crazy cat, Ben," Greg rumbled, grasping his pole to line the tip up with the cat's tailstar.

"I love you too, you overgrown pony. Now stop talking and start fucking." Ben flashed a grin up to the half-smiling face of the horse, then closed his eyes and began concentrating on his breathing. Taking Greg never was easy, and today, with just the horses natural juices as lubrication, it was going to be especially hard. He twitched briefly as he felt the horses mass touching the bare skin of his entrance, twitched again as Greg's hands gently closed around his flanks, took another deep breath, and.....

Greg looked down at his cat, and gently, gently began to rock his hips forward. Slowly and steadily, he built up pressure, the cat's ring snug and tight as a solid wall of rubber. He knew Ben could take him, they had done it often enough, but each time he mounted the feline, it felt for him as if he was breaking in uninvited. With an involuntary neigh, he leaned forward and let his weight do most of the work for him. Slowly, that rubbery wall in front of him began to dent, formed a hollow that quickly yielded further. Every increase in pressure brought him another millimeter of depth, but it was hard going.... With a start, Greg realized what Ben was doing - that lunatic was fighting him, tightening his muscles to keep him out, turning this into a competition!

"Ben, I don't..."

"Shut up, Greg... are you to weak to split a kitty like me open? Don't have enough power to overcome my defenses, donkey?" Ben's words lashed out like his tongue earlier, sharp, quick, and well-aimed. Each word hitting Greg's pride with a sting, he could see the stallion's nostrils flare and his eyes widen. If there was anything he found less than perfect with Greg, it was his gentleness, his inhibitions to actually use his strength on him, and to take him properly. Over the time, Ben had learned to lash at the stallion's ego, enraging him just enough to make him forget about his reluctance.

It worked, as it always did. There was the twitch of Greg's nose, there was the tightening of his muscles, and...

Ben screamed out loud as Greg pushed forward, shattering the barrier of his entrance, forcefully stretching the too narrow ring to the massive dimensions of the stallion's shaft. Toes curling and claws flexing, Ben thrashed in his lover's grip, his body bucking and shaking against the hands that held him down like steel clamps.

"Donkey.... I told you, don't call me donkey..." Greg growled, and bucked his hips, driving a good ten centimeters of his weapon into the cat, which caused Ben to scream again, a long, mewling howl of sheer pain. "See where that gets you, fleabag..."

Another buck, another ten centimeters. He could feel the innards of his lover stretch and tighten around his living weapon, the skin so tight it moulded itself to every bump and dent of the stallion's shaft. Already the tip was bumping against the cat's inner wall, bottoming out. But still... it felt so damned good to fuck Ben. Another buck, another scream, this time with more panic than pain in the cat's voice. Greg blinked, looked down and saw his medial ring pressing against Ben's ring... and felt something pushing back against his tip, hard. A chill ran down Greg's spine, and with a long, smooth motion, he pulled all the way out, his raging organ slapping up against his belly once it was free of the cat's confines.

"Dammit, sorry... Ben, are you okay? Shit, shit, shit... that was almost too much... C'mon, talk to me, Ben... please... "

Ben took a few moments to catch his breath and open his eyes, tension slowly leaving his body. He opened his eyes and looked at Greg, his expression a mixture of relief and disappointment. "Why... did you... stop?", he muttered, and propped himself up on his elbows.

"Why I stopped? Jeez, I had you stuffed! I almost popped you, and you know it very well. This is exactly why I don't want to fuck you in this position, one slip and...."

"Yes, yes, and why did you stop? You know I don't mind... It's going to happen anyway, sooner or later."

"But I don't want to! I already have a hard time hurting you, even if you say you like it, but to actually tear you..."

"If I say I like it?", Ben hissed and pulled back a bit. "Look at this, Greg, and tell me I don't like it!" With one hand, Ben scooped up the small pool of jizz that had accumulated on his belly, right under the tip of his still painfully hard erection. "Look at this, Greg. Just look at it. The moment when I thought you finally lost control and would go for it, the moment I felt your shaft stretching me so wide, I came.... and I am still hard, and I could come again just by thinking of it! Besides....." Ben sighed and bent forward, rose on his knees and rubbed his head against Greg's cheek. "Besides... you almost never come when I ride you, even when you're on top it's rare. I want to give this to you... want you to fully mate with me, without thinking all the time. I really want this....."

Greg sighed and rubbed back, a gesture he had adopted from the feline, and which had become as natural to him as shaking his mane out of his eyes. "Ben.... please... we talked about this before, many, many times.. and you know what I think about this whole idea. I don't want to lose you, I don't mind at all if you have to stroke me afterwards. If I want full contact, I can use that toy you gave me for christmas... and besides, I would get into a whole lot of hot water if you die from me fucking you. They could get me down for murder, you know, and you wouldn't want me to go to jail, do you?"

Ben shuffled even closer to the horse and now snuggled up against him, his nose gently poking into the hollow of the stallion's neck. A very slight purring began to emanate from the lithe, striped body, and Ben's hands found their way to Greg's still somewhat hard shaft, stroking and massaging it with practiced, cunning movements.

"No... I don't want that.....I just want to feel this... big... fat... massive shaft.... in me.... deep... so deep that your thrusts force the air out of my lungs.... I want to feel how your power turns me into a toy for you.... a little fucktoy... a toy that needs to be broken to be used properly......I want to see the look on your face when you finally feel how tight I am right down to that freaking base of your lance, I want to hear you scream my name when you pump me full of your essence, when you feel my heart beating against that dancing shaft of yours....."

Harder and harder the small cat massaged his lovers cock, distributing the pre over the whole surface, making it slick like wet leather. He followed the path of the thick veins under the tight skin, felt the pulse deep beneath its surface, the same pulse he heard with his ears, deep and resonant like the beating of a jungle drum.

"Imagine how great that will feel, love, a sleeve for your cock, made to measure...."

Greg groaned and threw his head back, his chest heaving with the long, deep breaths he was by now taking, the air rushing through his mouth and nose. Ben's voice had become a singsong in his ears, sweet and sinful, lusty and dirty at the same time. Combined with the cat's expert ministrations to his shaft, he was falling quickly into a sea of lust, the waves getting higher and beginning to crash over his head. He couldn't help himself, what Ben was describing sounded nice, the tightness of the cat's insides all over his cock, not just the first half, the power he'd feel over his lover, the devotion.....

With a bellowing neigh, the stallion bucked his hips upwards, slamming the flared head of his dick against his lover's chest, the great balls contracting and pumping out what must be half a gallon of cum, a hot and creamy geyser, the jets thick as Ben's little finger. Pulse after pulse spurted from the mushroom's center, completely soaking Ben's chestfur, rivulets snaking down as far as his knees.

Sometime later, when they were lying in bed, Ben's fuzzy form spooned up against Greg's chest, Greg rumbled, "You really want me to pop you, love?"

"Mhhhhmmmmyeah......want you to be happy...." murred Ben sleepily in return.

Then, there was silence, only to be interrupted by the alarm clock the next morning.

The following week was completely normal, neither Ben nor Greg brought the topic up again. Greg went to work, came home, there was dinner, then there was sex, and then there was sleep -- like any other week before. Slowly, Greg started to believe Ben had finally given up on the idea of getting torn apart by the stallion, and he came to that conclusion with no little relief.

Friday came and went, and then it was Saturday. Ben had evaded any attempts to make plans for the weekend, he had just smiled and said he already had an idea what to do, that it would be a surprise, and no, he wouldn't say any more about that topic. Greg had eventually given up on pestering the kitten, and surrendered into waiting patiently. Friday, they had ordered pizza, and spent the evening lounging in front of the TV with very little clothing, quite a lot of wine, and the lazy intimate closeness that can only be achieved by prior total satisfaction of sexual urges. Eventually they crept into the bed, and fell into a deep, almost comatose sleep that only ended when the late morning sun shone through the window and the birds became obnoxiously loud.

For Greg, Saturday morning came with a feeling of loneliness.once he was awake enough to recognize his surroundings, the reason for this became clear -- he was alone in the bed. Replacing the fuzzy warmth of his mate, however, was the scent of eggs and bacon in the air, accentuated by the sharp smell of oranges. The reason for this mixture of scents became obvious when Ben walked through the doors, carrying a heavy tray, laden with a luxury breakfast. Perfectly browned toast, freshly squeezed orange juice. Bacon fried to just the right consistency, barely on the brink of crispy. Scrambled eggs, so fluffy they could be made of fresh fallen snow. Mushrooms, sauteed to perfection. Deep red tomatoes, covered with a crust of salt and pepper.

"Whoa.... how on earth did I earn this...?" Greg mumbled, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Just by being the best mate anyone could wish for," replied Ben. The cat slipped back under the covers and gently settled the tablet on his and Greg's thighs. "I thought it would be nice to have a really grand breakfast in bed for a change, " he purred, and rubbed his head against Greg's chest for a moment. A wide smile was the answer, and both dug into the food.

A contented silence spread after the tray was cleared, and both cat and stallion leaned back into the cushions to enjoy the post caloric glow for several minutes. Ben was the first to speak up.

"So.... I thought you could drive me downtown today, love. I have a couple of things to do, and after that, I thought we could do some shopping. What do you think?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?" Greg smiled, and turned his head to have a look outside. "The weather is nice, too, although I think it's going to be hot later on. What's on your list to do, kitten?"

Instead of a reply, Ben just grinned, pushed the covers back and hopped out of the bed. He left the room, his tail swinging behind him, his ears twitching... and being as enigmatic as the sphinx itself. Later, when they were sitting in the car, rolling towards the city centre, Greg tried again.

"So.... what is it that you have to do, Ben? I mean, okay, I get it, it's a surprise, you don't want to tell me, but look... I have to know where to drive to, don't I?" The stallion reached out with his right arm, gently squeezing Ben's leg, turning his head to grin at the kitten.

"Oh, you'll see.... and I am sure, you'll like it. Now, stop pestering me and watch the road -- just go to the garage on Meadow Square, we'll walk from there. It's not that far, really. And once we're done, we'll hit the mall! You need some new pants, and I could do with some ice cream."

Greg's eyebrows went up as the "I need to do some stuff" changed to "We need to do some stuff", and Meadow Square made him even more suspicious... that address was not the part of town they usually went to when they went out for a shopping tour. Meadow Square was right in the middle of the city, next to city hall, and while there was a mall there, it mainly carried luxury items and fashion clothes from big name brands. With a sigh, he resigned himself to his fate, knowing very well that there was no way he would get any more information out of his cat.

The square was beautiful on this Saturday, the large circular lawn bright green, dotted with the little diamonds of water droplets, constantly changed and renewed by the sprinklers that hissed gently and filled the air with rainbows. Ben stopped at the exit of the garage, took a brief look around and set off towards the building opposite City Hall, a large, multi-story office construction that housed many small and medium sized offices. The company he worked for even had half a floor there and did most of its bookkeeping and legal work there. Ben, however, hit the button for the 6th floor, and just before the elevator did its gentle "ding", took Greg's hand. He knew his horse well, that cat, and didn't let go when Greg stopped in his tracks, half in and half out of the car.

"Notary? Ben, what's this about? You're planning something, I know it, and I don't want anything to do with it. We're going back home, right now."

With a sigh, Ben pulled with his whole weight and managed to get Greg out of the elevators before his hand slipped. "All right... you go back home then. I'll take the bus. But right now, I have to go in there and get my papers and my contract. It's a shame you don't want to become my owner, because any slave that is without one for four weeks will automatically go into public auction, and..."

"Slave? Ben, what the hell are you talking about? You're not a slave, you're a free born citizen, and why on earth should you want to change that? I don't want to own you, I don't need to own anybody!"

"Shhhh...." Ben closed in on Greg, placing his hand on the agitated horses wrist. "I am going to become your slave so you won't get into trouble when your self control slips. You remember? You said you didn't want to do it completely with me because you'd be a murderer. But you can only murder a free citizen, right? You can do whatever you want with your slave. So, easy solution. I'm signing a slave contract, you sign as owner, and...."

"Ohhh no. No way. Not in a million years. I am NOT going to become a slave owner just so you can keep talking me into popping you, kitten. I am very happy with things how they are right now, I am not missing anything, and I most certainly do not want you to go to such lengths because you think you need to give me more than you already do. I won't do it, and that's final."

Greg withdrew his arm, crossed it with the other one in front of his chest, and stared down at the cat, his eyes furious, the brows knitted together in the middle, and his lips set in a stern expression of anger.

Ben, on the other hand, nodded gently, his ears, which had been up and perked the whole time, now drooping slightly to the sides. "Yeah... I thought you might say that. But now you listen to me. You might think you're the only one here who can be as stubborn and obstinate as a mule, but you're wrong -- I can play that game as well. I am going in there now, and I am going to come out as a slave. Whether I am going to be your slave or someone else's is up to you, not me. It'd be a tragedy if I'd end up as a rug somewhere, or spend the rest of my life cleaning dirt from the roads, but as before, that's up to you, not me. I have made my decision, and I am going to go through with it, no matter if you approve it or not. Right now, I still have this right, and I am going to use it."

Despite the harshness of the words themselves, Ben delivered the whole speech in a calm, objective tone , as if talking about the options for fixing a broken car, or comparing two different kinds of baked beans at the supermarket. It was this tone that made Greg halt in his tracks - he had expected a discussion, a hot and passionate debate, maybe even a tantrum... but certainly not this kind of calm determination. It made clear to him that Ben had his mind set, and that he was right as well.... it was within Ben's rights to make that decision and sign those papers, and there was no legal way Greg could interfere - they weren't married, nor was Ben Greg's slave, up to now at least,.

"Look, kitten...." Greg started, now in a consoling tone. "Can't we talk about this? I mean, isn't this the wrong place for..."

"No, Greg." Ben interrupted the horse with a shake of his head. "We talked and talked and talked, it led to nothing. Talking is over, now it's time for action. And this is exactly the right place, this is the notary's office, and he has my papers on his desk right now. So you make your mind up now. Come with me inside, and become the proud owner of one slightly used cat, or stay out here, and help me pack my stuff when my new owner relocates me."

---

"I just love the strawberry ice cream they make here, it's so sweet and juicy... don't you too, Sir?"

The whole process had been astonishingly simple. Two signatures from Ben, after a stern lecture from the notary, a grey squirrel with thin, gold-rimmed glasses, who looked a bit like the grey in his fur was actually dust, collected over hundreds of years, one signature from Greg on a different piece of paper, an iris scan from both of them - and five minutes of waiting time while the documents were scanned, authenticated and sealed. That was all. And now they were sitting at the cafe inside the mall, Ben eating a humongous bowl of strawberry ice cream, and Greg staring at the slowly melting banana split in front of himself. He, a simple construction worker, had become a slave owner. The energetic kitten was now his - like his car, his house, or his boots, to do with whatever he pleased, and to sell or discard once he didn't deem it useful anymore. He still couldn't believe he let himself getting talked into this, especially not by Ben, who even had the gall to call him "sir" now at every opportunity.

Mechanically, he began to eat. Ben was right, the ice cream was indeed good. And with the food, some calm returned into the horse, and with the calm, came some resolve.

"Eat up, kitten. We're going to go shopping. Since you're a slave now, you won't need no new pants anymore, what you need is a collar." Greg grinned at the cat, but instead of the shock he hoped for, all he saw was demurely downcast eyes, ears that folded back to the head, and a small nod of the head itself.

"Yes, sir. As you say." And with double effort, Ben cleared his bowl in record time.

Getting the collar was a matter of minutes, there was a shop in the mall that sold slave accessories, collars, chains and all the other paraphernalia some people liked to adorn their slaves with. When they came out, Ben wasn't wearing anything but a loincloth, and of course, his new collar. Made from read leather, it contrasted beautifully with the the cat's fur. Closed at the back with a heavy patent clasp, it couldn't be removed except by using the key that now resided in Greg's wallet. Of course, the leather could be cut, but that would release the ink in the strip of leather, tainting the slave's fur and marking him as a runaway. Two small, engraved silver plaques bore both Ben's and Greg's names, displaying the ownership to everyone who was interested enough to look. Finally, dangling from the ring in front, was a small golden bell, jingling with every bouncy step Ben took. The bell had been the clerk's idea, talking about how cute Ben was and how that little bell would make him just adorable - and, in a low voice whispered into Greg's ear, how it would jingle when he'd be fucking his slave. Greg did indeed get red ears at that comment, but bought the bell nonetheless.

---

The ride home was silent except for the jingling of the bell, until Greg finally broke the silence.

"And... what happens now?"

"Whatever you want, sir," Ben responded demurely, "I expect that sir will want to fuck his toy once he has taken him home."

"Ben...." Greg sighed, "Can we please stop this game for a moment? I really need to talk to you.. not the slave, not some role you like to see yourself in. Please?"

"Alright," said Ben, with a sigh almost as deep as the horse's, "But keep in mind that it's official now, I am a slave and I belong to you. So... what do you want to talk about?"

"You still want me to fuck you, don't you? Look, I've thought about it.. You're right, from a legal point of view we're in the clear now. Should I go through with this and you die from your internal injuries, I wouldn't go to jail for it anymore. But, Ben.... I won't do it. I mean, I can't! I love you, and I don't want to kill you."

"Greg... I know you don't want to kill me. But please, look at it from my point of view. I won't live forever, and neither will you. We all die, sooner or later. I don't want to wait till I am old and frail, I don't want to feel my body slowly packing up and leaving me weak and stupid. I want to die before all of that happens... and I can't imagine a better way to go. Giving my body and my life to the guy I love, sacrificing myself for the purpose of giving you the best fuck of your life... Dammit, Greg, this is the ultimate turn on for me, I'm getting a boner just talking about it."

Ben grinned, and pointed at his crotch, where indeed the loincloth was forming a small tent, complete with a wet spot at the very tip. He continued. "This is what I want. This is me, offering the biggest present I can imagine or get... and if you really love me, and if you really want me happy, you'll accept it."

They'd arrived at the house while they were talking. Ben hardly noticed as Greg parked in the driveway and shifted to neutral, the engine idling. At last, he turned it off and left the car, entering the house without looking back. Ben had to hurry to follow him before the door closed again, and barely had time to lock the car. Once inside, he found Greg sitting at the kitchen table, head resting on his folded hands, staring at the wall. Long minutes passed without either of them daring to say a words, and once again, it was Greg who finally began to speak again.

"Alright."

The one word was enough to send Ben into an excited fit, but he was stopped instantly again by Greg's raised hand.

"If you really want to die on my cock, you can have it. But, Ben... you will have to do it yourself. I'm not going to help you. That's all I can give you, really. You can do whatever you want with yourself, and I'm going to play along... but I'm not going to take you to the bed and rape you." He lowered his hand again, and looked at the cat with a serious and stern expression in his eyes, letting Ben know exactly that this was all agreement he would get out of the horse. For a moment, Ben looked away, but then he fixed his eyes on his partner again, a big grin on his lips. "That's all? No problem, love, if you want me to do the work, that's no problem at all."

With a quick leap, Ben attacked the horse, landing on his lap and in his arms. Purring deeply he nestled himself against the broad, massive chest, rubbing his head against Greg's chin withpassionate vigor. Finally, their lips met, Ben's arms locking around Greg's neck -- both falling into a kiss that couldn't be deeper or more passionate.

Their tongues wrestled in an seemingly endless fight for dominance, Ben's rough and nimble, Greg's broad and strong, either one winning and failing at the same time. When Ben finally broke the kiss, he could feel the stallion's erection underneath him, hard and hot, pulsing and throbbing even through the confines of Greg's jeans. "I love you," the cat whispered and ran both hands over the long bulge that extended down Greg's leg. "Come... let's go to bed."

"What, now?" Greg responded, his breathing noticeably heavier than only five minutes ago.

"Yes, now... I've waited two years for this, and you're as ready as you're ever going to be."

Ben slipped from Greg's lap and walked towards the door, not even looking back at the horse as he undid the string that kept his loincloth in place, carelessly dropping the flimsy piece on the floor. Greg stared at the cat's bouncing ass, his swinging, erect tail, and shuddered, the image of his shaft parting those globes coming unbidden into his mind.

When he entered the bedroom, Ben was there, snuggling up to him from the side, the small hands dancing over his belt, quickly undoing the clasp. The purr of the cat filled the otherwise silent room when he managed to open Greg's pants, freeing the horse's shaft from its denim prison. Heavy and warm it swung up and forwards, like the clapper of a bell, defying gravity to jut out horizontally like a massive girder.

"Take off your clothes, love, and sit down... I'll take care of this."

Ben's voice was vibrating with excitement, and so were his hands when he grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand. Greg did as he was told, removed his shirt and jeans as if in trance. He didn't understand why he was so horny, why his shaft was painfully hard and already dripping with pre, although he knew that he was about to kill his lover. He mind didn't want to do it, but his balls had different plans. They wanted to use the cat, to breed him, to spill their contents impossibly deep in his guts and to finally, complete this coupling.

The touch of Ben's hands woke Greg from his reverie, the fingers dancing up and down his length, covering it with the cool, slippery gel, massaging it into every nook and cranny, from the tip down to the very base. Even beyond the sheath moved those nimble fingers, slathering gel over Greg's massive balls, making them slick and shiny and letting them look even larger and blacker than they already were. Something else touched the horse's sheath, making him look down at what Ben was doing - and to his astonishment, Greg watched the cat wrapping a thin leather strip around the very base of his shaft, tying it in a secure knot.

"Ben, what..."

"Shh, lover. I need you to be as solid and hard as I can get you tonight, and besides..."

Ben looked up and grinned, showing his white little fangs. "It doesn't really matter if you get a little bit bigger than normal, does it..."

Greg swallowed. Already he could feel the pressure in his cock rise, veins showing up under its surface like cords under a wet sailcloth. He could see his shaft swelling, gaining even more circumference, more hardness, turning from a tool of pleasure into a weapon.

Ben stepped back and took a long, measuring look at his handiwork, head tilted to the side, ears pricked. What he saw was his lover, Greg, sitting on the rim of the bed, his legs splayed apart, his torso leaned back, his weight resting on his arms, which were spread behind him, supporting him against the mattress. From his lap, there rose the stallion's shaft, a massive cylinder, glistening wetly in the light, its mottled brown surface pulsing and straining, the tip flat and broad, the opening in the middle parted and spewing pre. A constant trickle of the clear oil ran down the shivering tip, mixing with the layer of lubricating gel on its way down to the heavy, full balls underneath. Ben nodded, apparently content with the arrangement, before he took two steps forward, climbed onto the bed and finally came to stand with his paws straddling Greg's strong thighs. Even standing like this, the tip of the horsecock was only two hand's width worth of distance below his behind and his ring, once more displaying the harsh contrast between their sizes.

Greg, in return, used the time to let his eyes wander over Ben's lithe form, the sleek shoulders, the even narrower waist, the long and flexible legs. His green eyes, his short muzzle, now pulled into a display of concentration and eagerness, the excitedly twitching ears and tailtip. While he was watching in silence, his gaze fell onto the cat's crotch, where the cat's cock stood hard and red -- there was no doubt about it, Ben was not doing this only to as a favor to the horse, he was massively turned on by the whole idea.

"Ben...." Greg whispered, in a last, pleading attempt to stop the cat.

"Shhhh, love....." Ben answered with a smile and placed his hands onto Greg's shoulders, at the same time flexing his knees, slowly lowering himself downwards, closing the distance between the stallion's tip and his behind. "I want this, Greg. And you promised."

Smaller and smaller the distance grew, until, finally, there was contact. Dry, soft fur tickled Greg's tip for a moment, then the feeling was immediately replaced by the soft pressure of naked skin.

Never letting his eyes wander from Greg's, Ben continued to increase the pressure, slowly but steadily transferring weight from his feet to his ring, purposefully first bending it inwards, then beginning to stretch it open. A look of utter concentration on his face, his progress became slower as he felt his body yield to the horse's massive tip. Thanks to the leather strip, the horsecock did not deform even a millimeter, forcing the cat to adapt himself to its size.

Greg licked his lips, watching the cat intently; it took some concentration for him as well, concentration to remain perfectly still and to not buck his hips upwards in an explosion of equine strength. The heat of Ben's rear was astonishing, the pressure, the tiny movements with which the rim of his opening moved across his tip, despite the good lubrication not in a smooth and continuous motion, but with minuscule steps, each sending shivers of lust up the horse's spine, causing his skin to twitch and shudder.

He could see Ben's face contort in a brief flash of pain, could hear the sharp whistle of air forced through clenched teeth when he felt the cat's behind finally give way, the pressure relieving itself in a sudden movement downwards, swallowing the first centimeters of his shaft - and taking it into that tight, hot sleeve, that protested against the intruder with contractions that massaged his flesh so sweetly.

There was a slight shiver in Ben's hands when he held still for long moments, breathing hard through his partly open mouth, eyes blinking rapidly. Eventually, his lips turned into a smile once more. "You're way too big for this kitty, stud... But this toy will adapt... you will make it fit, one way or another... and the first step is done already..."

His voice was thick with lust, low and sultry, an almost hypnotic sing-song that continued as Ben again shifted his weight off his paws, sliding down the horse's pole one millimeter at a time. "Poor kitty will be turned into a toy... a slave to his master's lust... wasted and torn to satisfy the stallion's need to breed..."

Of course, it was pure cliche -- the dialogue could have come straight from a cheap and gritty porn flick, but it did have its effect on Greg. He took a deep breath, exhaling harshly through his nostrils, his eyes ablaze. Ben could feel a shiver run through the pole he was riding, and a small bit of warmth spreading inside him - his words had triggered a small eruption of pre, further lubricating the path of the shaft.

Lower and lower the cat sank onto Greg's cock, the slowness both sweet and tantalizing for the horse, his need to buck and fuck growing every second. Waves of gentle massage wandered over the surface of his shaft, and the contrast between the coolness of the gel and the warmth of his cat couldn't be any more defined. He could feel how his tip deformed Ben's tunnel, straightening and stretching it, shaping it into a made to measure sleeve for his aching, needing dick. All too soon, however, the slow sliding came to an end. Just before the stallion's medial ring met the cat' entrance, his tip encountered the final bend in the tunnel, the wall it could not straighten out to accommodate further progress. Ben's eyes lit up as he felt his lover's weapon settle against his limit, the sensation well known to him, and not entirely unpleasant -- the fullness and the intense stimulation of his insides culminating in the dull pressure the tip exerted right now. Many times they had reached this point, and every time, it had been the signal for Greg to withdraw, and to commence his gentle thrusting, the measured force usually turning Ben into a furball that screamed with lust. Tonight, everything would be different.

Greg could feel it now, the building pressure, the way Ben transferred more and more of his weight from his paws onto his shaft, the way he had when he forced himself over the tip - only now, there was no opening at the center of the barrier, there was no ring that could deform and open up to allow him entrance. This time, it felt like a wall of solid rubber, flexing and bending under the ever growing pressure, but differently than the ring had before. Tough and flexible, it gave just enough to conform exactly to the shape of the tip, but then, it remained surprisingly solid. The feeling was novel, the most exquisite he had ever experienced.

"Greg..."

The horse looked up from his introspection. Ben was looking at him with something like desperation in his eyes, and further inspection revealed that the cat's paws both were hovering in the air, only his toes barely touching the surface of the mattress. His whole weight was now resting entirely on the pole inside him, and still it wasn't enough to force him further onto it.

"Greg... please... help me...."

Ben's tone was pleading now, he must have realized that there was no chance he could do this on his own.

With a sound that was half sigh, half neigh, Greg straightened his torso, withdrawing his arms from behind him, bringing his face close to Ben's now.

"You really want this, don't you?"

Greg's hands, now touching Ben's fur at his flanks, gently stroked up and back, running through the fur on his back, upwards to his neck.

---

"Yes.... please, Greg... It doesn't work... please... help me..."

"But we have a deal," the stallion reminded Ben, "You have to do this yourself."

For a moment, Ben looked unsure, then he bit down on his lower lip and nodded. With a sigh of concentration, he pushed himself upwards until only the tip of his lover's tool was inside him. Then, with a determined, grim look on his face, he slammed himself down onto the pole.

The impact was jarring; a shudder ran through both their bodies, Greg felt the barrier against his tip like a hand slapping it. Still, Ben's tunnel remained solid, flexing just enough to absorb the force of the cat's reckless move.

There was desperation in Ben's eyes as he looked at his lover. He was already pushing down firmly with his legs to repeat the process, the muscles in his calves shivering with the effort.

"I... don't know if I can do it...."

It broke Greg's heart. His furball, doing his very best to conquer his own body, determined to overcome the obstacles, but his weight and strength were just not enough to break the barrier.

Before Ben could make his third attempt, Greg's arms came forward, catching the cat on its way down and pulling his body against his chest. Ben was crying now, silent sobs.

"I just can't do it! I'm not strong enough. Please..."

Greg felt Ben's frustration, and it hurt him more than any pain he had ever experienced.

"Shhh.... stop it, love... you've done enough. Just.... tell me what you want me to do... you tell me what to do, I'll just do what you say... that's the same as doing it yourself, right?"

Ben's eyes glowed with gratitude as he stared into Greg's face, and the cat's ears, which had been plastered to his skull, slowly raised up.

"Will you really?... Thank you..." he whispered, and quickly licked his lips. "Hold me tight, lover, then slowly push me down... don't hurry... go very, very slowly...."

Greg did exactly that. Pulling Ben even tighter against his chest, he placed both of his hands onto the cat's shoulders from behind, and began to build up pressure gradually. Ben's tunnel had adapted to the horses grith, and the horsecock slid smoothlly in with no resistance until the barrier was reached.

"Don't stop now, you're doing great..." Ben purred, and rested his head into the hollow just under Greg's chin.

Nothing more happened at first, but then, he could feel the increasing pressure on his tip, the wall flexing a little bit more before again becoming solid.He pushed a little harder, gently but firmly, the muscles in his arms flexing. Again he could feel the movement around his shaft, and suddenly, there were Ben's claws, digging into his skin.

"Kiss me, lover," Ben rasped, his tongue already flicking against Greg's lip, begging for entrance. He could feel the cat's tongue shivering, the short, harsh breaths, the shudder of his lover's body in his arms and against his chest. He could practically feel the pain Ben felt, balanced there on top of that flat tip, the pressure growing, but not yet pushing through. It was almost enough for him to release his hands and pull Ben away, but just as he was about to do that, Ben broke the kiss and moaned. "It hurts... so good... slowly, love, slowly... I want to feel it... want to feel every moment... "

At that moment, Greg made his decision. He couldn't do it. He couldn't stop now, and deprive his lover of what he wanted most. "Do you feel me now, slave? Do you feel your master's shaft, deep inside you? You are going to take twice as much as you've taken so far..." The menacing growl in his voice came without him trying to put it there, it came from somewhere else, deeper inside him. He increased the pressure once more, again felt the flexing of the wall, but now there was a sudden and pronounced stop at the end of it, and he knew that the utter limit was reached. What little elasticity was there in that barrier, had all been used up. Ben gritted his teeth, his eyes now closed, and clawed harder into the horse's fur. But Greg didn't stop. With a deep breath, he tightened his hug around the small cat, and forced him down with the slow determination of a hydraulic press, his muscles playing under his fur.

Ben didn't scream. His muzzle gaped wide, but no sound came out of it. Two wet streaks formed under his eyes as tears rolled from their tightly shut lids, forming traces that looked almost like a cheetah's markings. But Greg didn't need any confirmation that it was done.

This reminded him of that one time when he had a little go with another guy, before he met Ben. It had been a one night stand, and they had used condoms -- but the condom had burst while Greg was on top. This was almost the same sensation, the intense pressure across his tip vanishing suddenly, replaced by the feeling of freedom -- and fluid warmth. The sudden lack of resistance let Ben slide down a couple of centimeters, taking the medial ring inside himself without even slowing down.

Greg couldn't help but growl, a deep and satisfied noise. The feelings he got from Ben were unique... so good... they touched something inside him, made a string vibrate that he didn't know he had. He let go of Ben and leaned back, looking at the cat. Ben's face was still drawn in a mask of intense pain, but he was relaxing, and so were his hands, withdrawing his claws one by one. But the most surprising and prominent feature was a bulge, clearly visible under the cats bellyfur, right between his navel and his ribcage, the shape of Greg's tip just recognisable. Greg also noticed that Ben's cock was fully erect, hard, red, and dripping with milky cum,.

"You came," rumbled Greg, no little astonishment in his voice.

"Yes.... toy came when Master popped it... but toy is still hard... and Master... is not done..."

Ben's words came rough and raspy, as if his throat was dry as sand, but it was not shaking. It also lacked the cheesiness from before;Ben didn't have to play the part anymore, it now came naturally.

"What is... Master going to do with his toy....?"

The answer to that question didn't need any considering, and Greg spoke without delay.

"I am going to fuck my toy. I'm going to fuck my toy until I am satisfied, even if I have to break it."

To emphasize his words, he bucked his hips upwards, no longer gentle, but not yet as hard as he could. The result was spectacular, with half of the remaining shaft sliding into the cat, only to be stopped by the widening base of the fuckpole. Ben screamed with a mixture of pain and lust, the thrust causing his shaft to spew out another charge of seed, opalescent white and sticky.

"Breed me, master..." Ben whispered it after he caught his breath once more.

With slow, deliberate movements, Greg bent forward and stood up, holding Ben in position as he did so. With the same measured precision, he turned the cat over until he faced the bed, in position to take him doggy style, and lowered him down on the mattress. Never before had they tried to fuck like this, even though it was the perfect position: the kneeling cat was at the perfect height for the standing horse. But in the past Greg had felt the risk of hurting Ben was too great . It didn't matter anymore now. Greg raised one leg, his hoof coming down hard next to Ben's right arm, the weight pushing it deep into the softness of the mattress.

"Beg for it, slave. Beg for the mercy to be bred by your master, little slave. Show me how much you want to be taken by the stallion. Lick my hoof, worthless slave, and beg for the privilege to get split apart by my shaft."

There was it again, that other part of Greg, the one he didn't know. The words came by themselves, without thinking. Still, he was surprised by the aggressiveness he'd just displayed towards his partner. He was even more surprised when he felt Ben's rough tongue rasp over the tip of his hoof with no hesitation whatsoever. There was nothing tentative about the cat, he licked the hard surface with fervor and abandon.

"Please, Master... don't let your slave die for nothing... let your slave give you the satisfaction you seek, use him fully, breed him as you'd breed a mare.... Please, Master! I need to feel your power, I need to feel your weapon pounding me to pulp, I need to feel.... you, Master."

"You have done well, my little toy.... I will grant your wish."

With a growling neigh, Greg pulled back, far back, exposing the front half of his shaft. Grinning madly, Greg placed his left hand on Ben's flank, then used his right hand to grab the cat's tail just by its root, using it as a handle to hold the cat in place. With one leg raised on the bed he had a lot of leverage, and he used all of it with his first thrust. For the first time ever, he didn't hold back when he hammered himself forward; he used his full strength to ram his weapon into Ben's too tight tunnel. The result was immediate. With a loud slap, Greg's hips slammed into Ben's butt, the steely hard shaft gliding through the cat's innards without any noticable resistance. The strength and weight of the horse forced the massive, triangular base of the equine shaft through the cat's ring, splitting it like a wedge when it could stretch no farther.

---

Neither Ben's scream nor the feeling of warmth running down his sac could stop Greg now. It was as if he had been replaced with someone else, someone much darker and crueler, a beast of greedy lust and passion. He threw his head back and let out a long, triumphant whinny, his whole length now buried in the slick sleeve that had been Ben, but now had been turned into a scabbard, made to measure for Greg's mighty sword. With another grunt, he pulled back once more, and then, then the stallion began to fuck.

Never before had Ben felt so alive. The pain was more than he could have predicted: the dull pressure in his chest each time Greg thrust forward, the burning of his split ring, the tearing at the root of his tail... but it didn't matter, it was all translated and converted into a drug he couldn't live without anymore. To call it lust would be as misleading as to call a the powerplant at Hoover Dam "a generator". The sensations ran through each other; his whole nervous system was in a continuous overload of pain and pleasure. Each of Greg's remorseless bucks caused another small orgasm to ripple through Ben's body, each thrust into his dying body another streak of semen on the mattress underneath him. He was already dead, even though he hadn't stopped moving yet. He knew that Greg was literally fucking the life out of him, but that also was okay. More than okay, it was wonderful! He had wanted this, desired this with all his heart, had worked years to reveal this side of Greg, the beast he knew was there, the beast that was covered and shackled by too many conventions and manners. Here it was, finally free of the reins of civilisation, and it celebrated its freedom.

There was another bone-breaking thrust; it pushed the air out of Ben's lungs, a sound that was half grunt and half moan. But this time the horse didn't pull back again.

Ben felt himself being picked up, lifted away from the mattress, turned around the pole that was still deeply embedded in him, as Greg held him and hugged him. He could hardly focus, but he was somehow aware: Greg, his lover, his partner, with glowing eyes and a grin that would make a lion shit his pants, pulling him closer, and closer still, into a kiss that was more intense than ever before. The kiss was absolute, aggressive and possessive, a predator digging his claws into his victim, a superior being giving love and taking life.

Ben smiled, closed his eyes and lost himself in the kiss, while a volcano erupted deep inside him.

Holding Ben like this, in his arms, impaled to the root on his cock, feeling the little cat close to his chest, feeling the heartbeat both on his skin and on the tip of his shaft... that was it, that was the final drop that made the barrel burst. With a hunger that had nothing to do with an empty stomach, Greg attacked Ben in a kiss, the ultimate, terminal kiss, muffling his words - but Ben understood them anyway, his name, repeated over and over again. It seemed like hours from the first eruption until his balls ached with emptiness and his cock deflated, but in retrospect, it couldn't have been much more than a minute. But time stretched and made each spurt a separate sensation, as far beyond a mere orgasm as an orgasm was beyond a hard-on.. Wave after wave of seed Greg pulsed from its origin deep in his body, then a short pain when the wad passed the leather strip around his cock, travelling along his impossibly hard shaft, up to the tip, where it erupted in a flood of warmth, mingling and adding to the juices and liquids that already pooled around his cock. Again and again he pumped his seed into his toy, and each time, he felt more and more satisfied and at ease.

And then, it was over. The same way the blood left his shaft, the dark presence left Greg's mind. When he came to his senses, Ben was lying on his side in a puddle of semen and blood, his eyes closed, his chest barely moving. Greg bent over him, grabbing him by the sholders, shaking gently. "Ben.... oh my god... I am so sorry....."

Slowly, very slowly, the cat's eyes opened. "Hey.... lover... Was it good for you.... too?"

It wasn't very pronounced, but there was definitely the shadow of a grin on Ben's lips.

"Ben, you stay here, I'm going to call an ambulance....."

"No... Greg... no ambulance. You did everything.... I wanted... you were great... Just promise me, lover... find someone else... and do it again. I love you."

Ben's eyes closed once more, and the small, wrecked body of the cat became still. Greg stood there, hunched over the body of his lover, who had given him all one could ever hope for, and then some more... staring at the relaxed, happy face of the cat, the lips curled into a smirk of total satisfaction. Finally, he bent down a little more, and planted a kiss between Ben's eyes.

---

Epilogue

It was barely 8am, and already the air was warm. It promised to become another of those hot, sweltering days when Greg arrived at the worksite, more sleepers to change out, more rails to loosen and refasten.

"Yo, Greg!"

It was Richard, the tall wolf, just coming out of the equipment shack with a shovel and a pickaxe over his shoulder.

"How was the weekend, and how's Ben doing?"

"Ben's at the Furriers, Rich.... "

"At the Furriers? Did he take the rope or what? I thought only prey does that nowadays."

"No, not the rope. We... well, I fucked him. Properly."

"You.... what?"

Richard came closer now, looking at Greg like he was seeing him for the first time, the wolf's gaze lingering around the horses crotch a little longer than absolutely necessary.

"You really fucked him, like, no reins and no holding back?"

"Yeah..... He... kinda wanted it for the most time I knew him, and now he finally got me to do it. Maybe I should have given in earlier."

A low whistle coming from his lips, the wolf nodded, and Greg couldn't help noticing the growing bulge in the wolf's pants.

"You should have called me over, I'd have paid to watch that happen. Was it any good?"

Greg looked at Richard critically for a moment, then grinned and nodded.

"Best fuck I ever had. He enjoyed it, too... and he made me promise I'd do it again. Not to him, obviously, but...."

There was that same, measuring look from the wolf again, and then, a grin as well, his being all fangs and teeth.

"You know, Killer, I think I might be able to help you out there......"

---

The End

_If there is anyone out there who would like to draw an illustration to this story, I'd gladly add links and references to such illustrations. _