Self-Serve
A businessman picks the wrong gas station stop at.
Although it was easing into fall, it was still fearfully hot, and the squirrel businessman approaching middle age was never one for heat. Thankfully, his Volkswagen Jetta's air conditioning was working fine. He grumbled nevertheless. He was on a tedious drive through a fairly backwoods-looking setting. Nothing but farms, churches, decaying old barns, rundown gas stations, and more churches. The tedium of the drive was getting on his nerves though, and it didn't help that the engine was beginning to make some ominous clunking noises.
Up ahead he saw a sign that read "Last Gas Station For 100 Miles!" in bold letters. He wasn't sure if it was true or not, but, a careful squirrel he, the businessman decided he didn't want to risk breaking down in this heat out in the middle of nowhere. So he took the exit and pulled his car into the deserted-looking filling station. Shutting his engine off, which resulted in the vehicle lurching forward a bit of its own accord before a loud clunk signalled the engine's cutoff, the squirrel cursed and got out.
He was a slim fellow with tan fur, short, neatly arranged red hair, dressed conservatively. Bowtie, dress slacks, and clip-on sunglasses over his spectacles. He had "white collar CPA" written all over him.
He looked around at the gas station. It looked about as run down as the rest of the area. The things that mattered such as the pumps, garage doors and so forth were still in good enough condition that they stood out amidst the weathered building's exterior and the cracked, sun bleached ashphalt. A large sign by the pumps said "Self-Serve." The only other living thing he noticed was a large alligator in the kiosk, which was situated far from the pumps and nestled against the garage. It didn't seem that service was a top priority at this gas station, despite its claim of being the last one for a hundred miles.
Nevertheless, the squirrel smiled and walked over. "Hello," he said. "Do you work here? I hate to be a bother but, well, my car has been making some funny noises and I was wondering if you had a mechanic."
The alligator, leafing through one of the older editions of one of many trashy magazines that lined the wall of his little kiosk, which he seemed almost crammed into, he was so big, ignored the squirrel just long enough to seem discourteous. The squirrel frowned a little at this. He'd been friendly, after all. The alligator then finally put his pornographic reading material aside and looked down at his customer.
"I'm the mechanic," he said, standing and exiting the tiny building and rising to his full towering height.
The squirrel took a step back. The gator was a beast. Several feet taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier. Most of it was muscle, although he did have a ponderous-looking beer gut. Apart from a baseball cap with the faded logo of the gas station on it and some heavy workboots, the only other thing he wore was a pair of dark blue mechanic's coveralls that looked as if they'd seen the work of a thousand cars and maybe a washing machne once a week along the way, were stretched tightly over his massive body, as if they were one size too small. He had sweat stains under his arms.
"What's the problem with your..." he began, and looked over at the squirrel's vehicle, then shrugged when he couldn't make out anything besides the paint color from this distance.
The squirrel's heart fluttered in his chest a little."Ah, I see. Well, it's a Volkswagen Jetta, and the engine is just making a weird clunking sound. It could be nothing, but since I'm on a trip, I'd appreciate it if you could have a look at it, so I don't break down in the middle of nowhere."
"I can take a look at it. You got cash?" The gator turned and strode around him toward the car without waiting for a reply. His long scaly tail swished behind him as he went.
"Oh, some," the squirrel said, hurrying along after him.
Leaning in through the window, the gator popped the hood, then came up to the front and lifted it up. Like most today, the squirrel owned a credit card. He stood to one side, bushy tail swishing and twitching. Something about this big mechanic was making him uneasy, but he brushed it off as simply his natural aversion to mingling with others. Cubicle drone that he was, he was happy living a life in a box. He stood back with his arms crossed, watching.
The alligator started peering around inside the Jetta's inner workings, tail lashing back and forth as if to reflect his thought processes.
"You'll have to pay in cash, I don't have a card reader out here. If you can't pay, there's not much I can do for you."
At that, he straightened up and walked toward the garage, where a locked toolbox stood just to the side of one of the bays, and popped out a key to open it up and fished out some sockets and a wrench.
"Okay, well, how much?" asked the squirrel, and fished out his wallet, an odd-looking affair that clasped together with velcro.
The alligator approached the car again, trying out different socket heads on some of the joists as he replied, "I'd say it's looking like at least a couple hundred bucks. It sounds like you need a gasket replaced."
The squirrel frowned and fished through his wallet. He had a hundred and a couple of fifties, and a lot of ones and fives. He sighed. "I've got, I think, about $240."
He was leery about paying this big lug all his carrying around money, but if the guy could ensure he wouldn't break down later on, he figured he could visit an ATM somewhere down the road.
"Will that cover it?"
"Well, we'll see," was the reply. "It could be more than just a gasket. The gasket could be damaged from a bad piston, but I see enough leaking around the gasket to know it's that much."
The squirrel cringed at the thought of owing more than he could pay out of pocket. He stepped forwards. "Uh, well, in that case... can you hold off, until I can visit an ATM and get some more money, just in case?"
The alligator mechanic paused and disassembled the socket wrench, and slowly closed the hood. Whirling with a suddenness that caught the squirrel off guard, he grabbed the smaller businessman by the collar. The squirrel yelped as he was seized and felt himself lifted off of his feet.
"I'm not going to let you just drive off to break down fifty miles from here and just get towed to the next place on down. If you don't have the money then I'll take what you got, and what you don't have I'll take out of your ass, capiche?"
"My ass?" God, the squirrel hoped he meant that metaphorically! He felt his anger overwhelming his fear. He was indignant about being treated as though he were some degenerate gambler who owed money to the mob. "Let go of me!"
The alligator had no trouble holding his customer aloft, although he didn't hold him there for long. With a quick twist of his wrist, he turned and flung the squirrel down against the hood of his own car and pinned him there with an arm behind his back, and started to unzip his coveralls. The squirrel grunted as he kissed metal, sunglasses flipping up to let his eyes be seen through the lenses of his glasses. He felt something hot and moist against his back, and, glancing back over his shoulder, was horrified to see that the mechanic had finished unzipping the front of his outfit... and that he was wearing absolutely nothing underneath! The gator's paunch and thickly-bobbing erection poked free from the front of the coveralls, hot and heavy against the squirrel's back.
"Shut up. I'm taking my down payment now, and if you know what's good for you you'll do your best to enjoy it until I'm done."
The squirrel's eyes were huge behind his glasses. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out except a hoarse rasp. The gator's free hand roamed over his customer's body to undo his belt, and pull it off without a hitch, and otherwise deftly disrobed the poor fellow now being pressed into the hood of his own car by a large paunch and even larger, hotly throbbing dick. He seized the back of the squirrel's shirt and yanked. With a ripping sound and buttons flying every which way, the mechanic soon had his victim disrobed and stripped down to nothing but shoes and socks, shirt and tie torn off, pants and underwear down around his ankles. The fat, dark cock was soon grinding brutally between his furry cheeks.
The squirrel squirmed and struggled but it was no use. He had to simply lie there. Despite himself, he was getting hard. He couldn't help it. Sheltered life that he'd led, he had a few rape fantasies, and having one starting to come true was taking its toll on him. He couldn't help but wonder if the alligator had done this to other customers in the past.
With little care for his customer's comfort, the gator started digging his tip against that likely virgin pucker and started forcing inch after inch in with no pause for rest, ignoring any sounds of protest in lieu of savoring the feel of suck a tight fuck gliding down over his length. The squirrel arched his back and threw back his red-haired head as he felt that thick log being shoved without pity into his tight entrance. The mechanic didn't stop until he'd bottomed out every last inch of his nearly foot-long monster into the squirrel beneath him, letting his weight bear forward, belly pressing down against the small of the squirrel's back.
A low and sultry moan escaped the squirrel's lips as he was violated. He felt the crushing weight of the gator, his rapist, bearing down atop him, the car itself shuddering on its springs and rocking gently back and forth, so massive and powerful as this mechanic. He was moaning loudly as that dark fat beast was piledriving away between his taut squirrel cheeks, his own erection rubbing on the hood and leaving thin slimy streaks of pre, like his own special brand of car wax.
The mechanic wasted no time taking up a staccato pace with his thrusts, mostly fucking for his own enjoyment, but also to wreck the ass of the poor guy beneath him, taking sick pleasure in using him as he wished, all the while letting his hot breath bathe down over the squirrel's headfur and mussing it with the occasional soft nuzzle.
"You give a good grip, slut. I'm gonna enjoy ruining that..."
The businessman He didn't respond. Only gasped and groaned. He blushed hotly beneath his cheekfur at what passed for a compliment from the mechanic, his poor ass aflame in sweet agony, his thin body being pumped back and forth, hands scrabbling for a purchase on the car hood and gripping the sides. His red hair was in utter disarray from the pettings and all the nuzzlings, bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat.
The alligator's thrusts only picked up in speed and power over time, eventually getting to a point where the Jetta's hood started to pop and creak and clunk as it slightly dented and then popped back again with the force of each ass-smashing pound from reptilian hips, the squirrel laying his head against the windshield, glasses falling off, feeling his strength ebb and beginning to come close to blacking out. He was certain he was going to get hemmarhoids for weeks after such a brutal assramming as this backwoods mechanic was giving him! But despite it all, the pain, the humiliation, the fear... or perhaps because of it... his cock remained rock-solid and splurting globs of precum, his orgasm close as the gator pounded that taut squirrelly butt.
The alligator's hot breath washed over him, his quickening breath giving away how close he was to climax, and yet the strength the businessman could feel radiating off of his mountainous body and the pace he kept made it clear he could go on for far longer. He kept right on thrusting even as he let loose a climax the squirrel would've expected from a mighty whale or an elephant, pumping the mammal's stressed bowels full of a heavy pint of cum and making a sloppy mess of his ass as each thrust caused the pooled semen to gush out around his gigantic cock to make a nice, sticky mess between his cheeks. He didn't slow down until he heard the unmistakable sound of the male climaxing beneath him; a low, whining little moan that drew out and then tapered off.
The squirrel whined as he felt the thrusts slowing. He whines as he feels the thrusts slowing. He hoped against hope that his torment was over. He lay there panting as the big alligator mechanic slowly thrusted, and rivers of cum from the horse-sized load the gator had shot up inside him ran down his bare legs, and dripped off of his feet.
Soon, the gator got tired of drawing out the squirrel's torture and simply pulled his cum-slickened length from his customer's ass with a wet popping sound, sighing softly as his cock still throbbed and bounced between his legs and up against his belly. Without a word, he stepped back a bit to admire his handiwork; the sight of the squirrel businessman lying sprawled, exhausted, on the Jetta's hood, and then with a dismissive shrug he lifted the rodent's feet up and started pulling those socks and shoes off. Apparently, he had more in mind for his fucktoy.
Weakly raising himself up on his elbows, the squirrel glanced back. But at this point, he is too tired to argue. Besides, he didn't think the gator do worse to him than he'd already done. Darkly, he is reminded of the old saying... they fuck you at the auto repair shop. Well, in his case, it was literal! He'd have laughed if he hadn't honestly just been raped. Miserably, a half-choked little chuckle still threatened to arise in his throat.
The gator now grasped those ankles together and guided the squirrel's clawed toes towards his cock, which gaped open like some sort of fleshy portal to a black hell and gulped down around both feet at once.
"Hey...!" cried the squirrel, suddenly finding his voice as he noticed what the alligator was doing.
He gawped at the gaping tunnel to oblivion that had opened in the head of the alligator cock and was now starting to swallow him in. He let loose a terrified squeal, and with what little strength he had remaining to him, he attempted to get away. The gator said nothing. The cock's grip on the squirrel's ankles was so tight that he couldn't pull his feet free. He banged down against the windshield and started to feel himself being slowly drawn over the cum-slickened hood, his legs being hulped into that ravenous cock up to the knees.
"Nooo...!" he wailed hoarsely.
Again, the mechanic said nothing. Not even a grunt or a cruel quip. He was very down-to-business now as he undertook the process of turning his customer into a meal for his cock. The reptilian length had no trouble in swallowing the squirrel all the way up to his knees, his hands getting a brutally firm grip on hips, sides, then shoulders as he shoved the squirrel bodily down his length, not even taking the time to enjoy the feast, a cold look in his eyes as a mirthful smirk spread over his muzzle. His scrotum began to swell with the legs and feet of his impending meal.
The squirrel's clawtips scraped uselessly down the smooth windshield glass and grabbed hold of the edge of the hood, but he couldn't keep a hold as that vicelike grip tugged his fingers loose and in seconds he was back to being dragged over the hood without even a chance at a token resistance, his erection still shamefully hard, even as he was slowly but surely vanishing down the mechanic's. As his butt and balls entered the cumslit, his big, bushy tail was pressed up against his back. As he went down, it provided a very pleasant tickling sensation for the gator.
It wasn't long before the alligator was simply suoorting his cock in his hands while only the squirrel's arms and head were protruding from his gaping slit, looking down at his prey and leeting gravity and peristalsis do the rest of the work now. It seemed from how quiet he had been all this time that he had made up his mind to make a meal of his erstwhile customer a while ago, and now that he'd followed through on it as he had, he'd allowed himself to crack one last quip before the squirrel well and truly disappeared.
"Sorry, just wasn't worth letting you go. You'll make some great food for my cock though, don't you worry."
"No, wait, aahhh...!" the squirrel managed to bleat out, wriggling and squirming as that hungry shaft gulped powerfully around his thin form and dragged him ever deeper, down to his fate, the drooling cocklips slurping over his neck and creeping splurting up over his ginger haired head until his terrified eyes vanished down into the darkness and his pitiful cries were completely muffled.
Now, just his arms remained, pressed tightly together and jutting forth from the slit, his hands flailing, fingers grasping in the air in a final useless gesture of defiance. A few more slow, rolling gulps tugged them down inside the cock entirely, and he was reduced to naught but a bulge in the very beastly cock which raped him, food for it after the mechanic exerted himself violating his tight ass. Inside those nuts, he was churned into a thick, gooey mixture of alligator cum. The mechanic gave a hefty, contented sigh, and then stood back, waiting for his dick to go flaccid. When it did, he eased his sated genitals back inside his coveralls and zipped them up.
He gathered the squirrel's clothes. Obtaining the Jetta's car keys and the businessman's wallet from the pants, he pocketed these and threw everything else into a rusty old garbage can, then returned to his kiosk. He'd get the Volkswagen later. For now, he just wanted to relax and return to his usual routine of reading filthy gay porn magazines, which the only customer he'd seen in several days had so rudely interrupted. Oh well, he thought as he eased himself into his little car and selected a magazine with, ironically, a nude squirrel on the cover; perhaps that squirrel could help him. Perhaps he'd rub one out over the course of the afternoon. Or a few.
The End