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I hate that fucking bleep on the answering machine.

I really just fucking hate it. It means people are pestering you, people outside of your private life wanting in, wanting to talk, wanting to see how you're doing, wanting to give you yet more shitty news...

Beep!

Arsehole. You can almost hear the stupid judgement in its fucking tone. It's just this dull, monotonous BEEP when really it's saying,

"Look at you. You're pathetic. Come on; listen to everyone's problems and shit. Deal with it. I'm the bearer of bad news, mother fucker."

I wanted to smash that stupid black box into stupid tiny pieces. I could do it, you know. I've done worse to a guy before now - even put someone into hospital once. There are times, I'll admit, where I've become so blinded by rage I'm certain that I blacked out and woke up the next morning with bloody fists and bruises and cuts littering my body. But those were my former years, where I literally had to fight tooth and claw with strangers just to survive. Since then I'd matured - somewhat - and I've learnt to hold back my anger at the very least. Sex had been the best outlet; a pleasurable business that paid more handsomely than anything else I'd ever done.

But Mr Diary, I'm not here to talk about that this time... See, after Fisher, things went to shit... I spent six months working under that cunt. During work hours he rode my ass hard, making me meet impossible deadlines, having me practically cracking under all the pressure and throwing all sorts of paperwork at my face as though I understand every single fucking individual sheet... Then, by night, I rode _his_ass. Hard. If I didn't live up to his expectations, I was threatened with being fired. So the only one job I had that was pulling me painstakingly back to reality was under risk of being ripped away from me so long as I held onto my former work as an escort...

Irony, right?

Well, turns out I can get fucked over even worse.

Here... Listen...

BEEP!

"You have three old messages, and one new message." That was the woman's voice, so cold and jagged. You know the recording they have on the machine that speaks out its whiny orders and announcements... "Old messages - message one; Tuesday, eleven fifteen pm."

BEEP!

"Hey, CJ, it's me, Jared. Listen dude, I'm still going to be out of town up in New York on this shoot for a day or two more - which makes for a very pissed Leslie as I'm gonna miss his sister flying in from England. Pretty much means I'm gonna have to go patch things up with him over dinner and then a raunchy night... I'll try and arrange to meet up soon. Anyway, just hang tight, okay? It ain't the end of the world, man. It's just a temp job. Speak soon."

BEEP! That was Jared, pretty much a brother to me who I didn't have to abandon back home. We met on a porno shoot one time, some orgy number, and basically he'd taken me under his wing, so to speak. Sure he was a few years older than me, and the relationship had started off as purely platonic, but we fooled around often enough to be done with all the stupid preconceptions of friendship.

"Message two; Tuesday, nine-o-four pm."

"Good morning Clark, though of course you're sleeping in from your sinner's work. Your mother and I have heard about the job. Can't say I'm surprised, but still it must be tough. Listen, I know we haven't exactly hit it off as friends nor as father and son, but Mary wants me to tell you that I still have an opening here for you back at the shop. Only condition are that you move back home to Topeka and quit that queer treachery you been doing. I know it's legal, but it ain't in the eyes of the Lord. Your mother and I'll expect a call back, hopefully with the good news that you've come to your senses. Bye."

That lovely fellow was my fucking stepfather. My mum married him a few months after I turned sixteen; he was basically this Bible bashing, conservative family man who wanted nothing more than to rear the perfect Christian family. But turns out his 'God' had a cruel sense of humour - Lawrence, or Larry to his friends, was infertile. I always found that hilarious. But basically, since I was pretty much the only eldest child given that my other two half-brothers were only three and four years old. My biological dad had walked out on my mum when I was still in my crib, so she'd resorted to one night stands with strangers, resulting in my siblings. Larry had essentially come alone and 'saved her' with the gospel. Now you add devout and heavily religious parents, with an overbearing stepfather determined to beat you into the shape of a perfect son, and throw in a little homosexual feelings then you've got a great recipe for 'running away from home and never look back'. But mother missed her foal and so now they still clung to my ankles in a desperate bid to redeem my soul and reinstate the broken family we are.

BEEP!

"Message three; Monday eight twenty-two am."

"Good morning Mr Hammerston, this is Neil Bertrand, the new head of human resources. I regret to inform you but due to recent evidence coming to light, OmniTech has no choice but to suspend you without pay until further notice effective immediately. Don't bother coming into work today. I won't lie to you, Mr Hammerston, but frankly I can't see a beneficial future for either you or us if you continue to work here. We'll keep you posted on your employment condition whilst the inquiry into Warren Fisher's behaviour is on-going."

You know that snooty Schnauzer? Remember him? An internal agent! I can't fucking believe it... Just my luck he happened to miss the stupid leering Warren did right after he left, but of course it would have caught up with me sooner or later. Warren was 'otherwise indisposed', and he had been for a while. A week earlier he'd simply just not turned up to work, and I thought he was sick or something and I'd be able to relax some, but the next day some guys turned up and confiscated all his files, and his hard-drive. Then I really began to sweat when they turned his office back into an interrogation room, and kept calling in random people from around the office.

In short; I've lost my job. I got fired with the tiniest severance package you could ever imagine. I could earn more in one night's stripping than what they gave me.

So yeah, the reason why I've left you for so long Mr Diary is because I sort of fell into this depression... It's just like I can't ever get out of this world now. It's like a freaking whirlpool or quicksand, and no matter how hard you try you just get sucked deeper and deeper. Now my 'normal' career is tarnished with a failed attempt at a temp job whereby I only got the place because I screwed a co-worker. So I'm a stripper with a low sense of decency; wonderful! I was pretty much a dead man now to any hiring businesses. That is what pissed me off so much... Not that I'd lost the job, not that my family was fucked, but that my career now - my future, pretty much - was in ruins. I had no foreseeable way of salvaging it. I'd willingly entered the contract that Warren put forward, and whilst I wasn't cool with it, I went along. I should have walked away, exposed him somehow... But nope; I was a yes-man, and now I regretted it in the midst of my depression...

"New messages - message one; today, ten twenty-six"

"Hey, AssHammer23, it's me Cor-... It's me, ButtBoy4U. Listen, I'm in room two-o-four at the Silver Apple just off of sixth avenue, and I brought some of my stuff with me, if you get me... It'd be cool if Sir might come along to teach me a lesson or two." He had that sort of glee in his voice, you know the sort, where you just can't help getting excited and it shows in almost everything you do? "The door'll be open all day and night, but I thought I'd try and give old patrons priority. Anyway, gotta go, CorkscrewAlbert's just arrived, bye!"

ButtBoy4U was somebody I'd met a while ago. You would have no idea the sort of things the internet can do for you. Back when I was a kid, all it did was come up with a few crappy sites that were pointless. Nowadays, you can order anything off it, see things that some would only dream of seeing, finding out shit you never would have known otherwise, but most of all... this new thing, they call it 'dogging'. At first when I caught wind of it, I thought people were just talking about maybe a new trend of doggy-style, but no. Get this, people, just random strangers - and I mean total random strangers, not just the sort you acquaint yourself with at a shoot and then screw each other - hook up over the internet through the droves of dogging sites. I mean, before in previous days you just went to a club and hoped to get lucky, or you just paid out for something off the streets. It wasn't pretty, but it seemed easy enough. But some bright spark came along and refined the whole process with the help of mass media and technology. Now I could find people, utter amateurs mind, who wanted to explore their sexuality to such depths that they might even hold a candle to my reputation one day. ButtBoy4U was just one of those people; a skunk with this tight, plush bubble butt who was about as bottom as they come. He stuck to the camp image like it was religion, dyed the tips of his headfur an array of colours, and had an appetite for cock that might have ruined his health were it food instead. All in all, perhaps he was the most ordinary guy I'd met from one of the sites - and yes, I've signed up to plenty.

Room two-o-four? I would like to say my depression got in the way and had me stay in, but how could I resist such a tantalising offer?

I glanced to the suit that was hung on the back of my front door; ready for what should have been a day's work had I not been so callously tossed aside like some wank tissue. It looked just like one, funnily enough. Not so much a mess, but just crumpled and unkempt. I would have bought a new one but I had just never needed suits in my life. I spent most of my days with my clothes off. What I wore gradually became irrelevant so long as I looked sexy in it.

I rose up from the hot seat I'd warmed with my behind, indents left by the shapely muscles and forming a soft 'u' shape in grooves. I wore only a jockstrap, some old thing I must've put on last Tuesday or some shit, and it was ripe with the smell of manliness and sweat. I decided to keep it, since ButtBoy4U was a kinky kind of guy and might get a thrill off of it. Swiftly I yanked the suit down off its hanger and donned it, buttoning up the uncomfortable shirt and tightening the knot I'd left in the tie the last time I'd worn it. It felt like I was putting on the old me, you know? Like in that odd sense, when you become someone you're not. Frankly I think I felt that every time I put the suit on, but now it just seemed so obvious. Maybe I wasn't cut out for normality after all. I guess since I'd made my bed in porn and stripping - and definitely slept in it - then maybe I should just continue doing what I'm best at. It's not pretty, I know, but it's what works.

I guess you could say I'm like chewing gum to the world. I'm good for a while; great taste, excellent colour, you feel like you're really onto something then... gradually, you begin to notice the colour's gone, so has that nice feeling of something tasty and then you're left with a bland, disgusting piece of dirt that nobody would ever want even gracing the bottom of their shoe.

Sighing, I snatched up my keys, my wallet, and finally my phone and pocketed them. I flitted out the door and swiftly locked it behind me, repeating out the hotel and room number in my head. CorkscrewAlbert was a boar, who aptly went by the name of Albert - a piercing enthusiast, you see. I'm all for a little body modification here and there, but that pig went too far. I'm talking hearing jingle bells whenever he walked by, not kinky little piercing in a naughty place. Of course, being a swine he had the added benefit of pounding his prey into the mattress before unleashing that infamous half-an-hour long orgasm. But it'd take me a while to get to the hotel. It was on the other side of town and buses would run late this time of day.

I was striding down the hallway when I heard this chipper voice call up behind me, approaching me with speed,

"Hey!" They half-shouted, catching up to me, "CJ, how's it going?"

"It's fine kid, how you doing?" I turned to face Joe, or Joseph whenever his overbearing parents were around. He was a cool kid, sweet too and as good as gold. In all honesty, he's the sort of guy I'd have wanted to be when he was his age looking back in hindsight now - though I might have refused that back when I actually _was_his age.

Joe was a kind looking mutt of sorts. His dad was a Rottweiler, so he looked a lot like him, but his mother was this snooty Labrador, so he had quite a stout figure. Even though he was supposed to be in the peaks of his growth spurts that came with puberty, he barely reached up to my shoulders. When he was younger and I'd first moved into the building, his parents had been more sociable than they were now. Often I was called round asking if I wouldn't mind looking after him until late whilst they attended some fancy do or meal someplace else. He and I would end up staying up and watching cheesy cartoons whilst he drank some milk and I made him promise to go straight to bed after the programme had finished. Then I'd drift off whilst he sat in my lap and then I'd have to make him promise to go after the next one and so on... I guess he was a mischievous bugger, but he caused no harm. Nowadays though... His dad had been made redundant in the wake of the recession, so they hadn't been living as large as they had done in the past. Of course the cracks began to show then in the mockery they called a marriage. She was in it for the money; he was in it for the trophy wife. Poor little Joe was just a victim of stupid people. I'd often let him stay round when his parents were having a particularly vicious fight to let him do homework whilst I worked out. He's a smart fucker too, did I mention that? He can outdo me any day in a test. I hope he makes it big, despite all the fuck ups people have made to him.

Oh, and there's one other tiny detail. He's gay, and only I know.

Now you might think:

'But surely that's fine, CJ? Why on Divinia is that a problem?'

And it isn't a problem, at least for everyone else it's not. But his parents... They're just like mine, and I can relate so much. They don't want a son who's abnormal. They wanted that perfect lifestyle they'd dreamt about, that they'd read stories about and seen pictures of in glossy magazines. Having a gay son would be such a travesty to whatever was left of their good name that it'd cripple them. They'd throw him out; undoubtedly, both of us can see that, so he sort of confided in me since he found out I was a gay stripper and porn star. Don't ask me for details, but he went online, found a few videos, and confronted me with them.

Now he's only seventeen, and that's far too young in my eyes to be making a go of it on his own. I'd been there myself, so I refused to let others go there too. My only advice to him on the matter of coming out was to wait until he'd left for college. I couldn't stress it enough because once he was there he was practically free. They couldn't hurt him once he got away. But Joe, he's not exactly the most forward-thinking type. He wants to fix things there and then, not envision a day where he can. I have to say I admire his practicality, but sometimes it got him into all sorts of trouble just for being a bit too iron-headed. As much as I can say this and that though, at the end of the day I'm not his father and I never will be, so he can do what he likes.

"I'm good, I'm good..." He trailed off, shoving his paws in his pockets as he stood beside me. I pressed the button for the elevator, and with a soft swish the doors opened. We both stepped inside in unison, allowing him to press the button for the ground floor; another clink of metal, and then the whir of familiar motors as we descended. Of course, Joe was intent on filling the silence, "So I might have met this guy at school..."

"Good for you."

"His name's Errol and he's really nice. We were gonna hang after school. He's really tall for a leopard." Joe seemed keen for my opinion, but I didn't want to get involved. I wasn't in the mood for it, not today.

"Like I said... good for you." Joe looked like he was gonna say something as I looked out of the corner of my eye, facing straight towards the lift doors, but he held his tongue. He looked a little dejected for a moment, but if you remember, I told you he was smart. Cunning bugger decided he'd provoke me and poked a nerve, a very tender nerve,

"Sorry about you getting canned."

"Shut up." I was _so_not in the mood.

"It wasn't your fault, right? I mean, you're not the sort to just screw around, are you?"

"I dare you, say another fucking word..." I didn't realise I was saying it through clenched teeth. Or maybe I did. At least I didn't realise I'd bunched up my fists so tightly that they were shaking and white at the knuckles. He did though, I believe, so he changed tack swiftly and it caught me totally off guard,

"I'm thinking about coming out to Mom and Dad."

I blanched, the anger washing away and suddenly replaced with fret and worry. I let my paws relax, and my jaw slackened from its grinding.

"Don't..."

"CJ, I can't just live a lie. I'm ready to face the consequences. I have to tell them, I can't pretend to like girls anymore just so that they can be happy a little longer."

"Joe, just don't..."

The doors opened, and I strode out into the air, making my way to the nearest bus stop. Joe followed in toe. I didn't want to have to deal with this, not today and especially not now.

"CJ, why do I have to be someone I'm not?" His voice was angry now. Not the mad angry, but that sad angry, the sad angry you get when you're world is just being plucked apart in the most unfair ways possible, "Why can't I just be me? I finish school in a few months, then I just have my exams and then I'll be off to college. If they don't like me being gay then fine, but I'm sure they won't be cold enough to kick their own flesh and blood out onto the streets when he'd be gone anyway in a month or two..."

"You're being stupid. Of course they fucking would. That's what mine did to me!"

"Times change, CJ, and so do people." The stupid kid! Why couldn't he just see he was heading towards inevitable disaster?! "It's why I have faith that you'll find what you want in life too."

Fuck... Didn't I say the kid was smart? He knows how to hit hard, and he barely threw a single punch.

But I wasn't doing this today. I wasn't in the mood. So I just did the easiest thing I could to end the conversation, to get to this horny slut he wanted to sit on my cock and make everything better. In hindsight - wonderful thing, hindsight is - I maybe should have forgotten about ButtBoy4U and maybe I should have focused more on preventing Joe from ruining his life.

But I didn't.

"Fine!" I huffed, storming off, "Do it your way if you're so confident it'll be all A-Okay! Don't come running to me when it all breaks apart. I'm not going to clean up your mess this time!"

I didn't look back. I daren't, because I knew if I did I'd regret it for making him feel miserable. But moods are moods, and I wasn't going to be making exceptions for anybody just because we were friends. He was just being an idiot anyway. I'm not his dad, so I'm not going to go around being that cushion for him to fall on when he fucks up. This Errol guy, if he's interested in Joe, will break his heart because that's teenage love for you. He'll come running to me, and I'll have to make it better because I'm the only one who knows the secret. Same with this coming out bullshit; he'll tell his parents, he'll have a row, and then I'll have to smooth it all over for him.

Well, I was just about done. I was done with having to take the fall for everyone. For that stupid cat who fucked up my normal life, my stupid parents for ruining what home I had, and for Joe for thinking he could walk all over me like his personal safety net.

I'm just gonna skip the next forty minutes because all that ensued was a seething bus ride of me ranting to myself in my head about all sorts of things. By the time I stood outside the hotel I considered myself pretty calm.

ButtBoy4U had picked a classy place. It was slap dab in the middle of the city, where all the bustling crowds would mull and hurry about as though taking things slow would be some personal insult. The Silver Apple was some hotel with four star quality but at a three star rating. I remembered spending many a night here back in my heyday as it was popular amongst the business-minded people who wanted to spend their nights fucking with a stud of a horse whilst they crunched numbers and went to meetings by day. One of my first even clients had booked a room in this hotel. It's the only reason why I was so fond of the place and why it was imprinted so well in my mind.

I went up through the doors, kindly opened by the doorman as I entered. He tipped his cap towards me. An old regular, as I recognised him. Some guy who had come out in an unhappy marriage during his forties and then never managed to meet anybody special since. I wonder how he was doing now...

I didn't dwell on it. The hotel, whilst retaining its outward demeanour of a professional and high-class establishment that hosted an excellent selection of services, it was a secret hub for travellers looking for a one night hook-up. Since the slow degrade of motels and with the uprising of people becoming prudish about who they let into their homes, hotels had to take the brunt of the transition. This place was by no means an exception. Rooms that weren't occupied were often sold at cheap prices for one night stands, usually to people filing out from the clubs were some willing partner stumbling about their feet. It was a well-known hotspot for businessmen and women, with a little secret - if you asked the receptionist for a number to call a 'special guy', or girl if that's how you swing, then they'd usually ask what sort of person you were after. It worked out well. Tips were always huge for the staff who tolerated the fleeting sexual encounters and local escorts earned a decent amount from it all.

ButtBoy4U was a guy named Cory Matthews, an actuary who lived all the way down in California. Normally we're not supposed to know all this. Dogging's an anonymous business usually. Names aren't exchanged, numbers are freely given, life stories are forgotten; except when you meet someone on a regular basis, you just can't help but asking the odd question or two, and from there it spirals into a conversation, which turns into lunch, which turns into this bizarre friendship of fuck buddies having a laugh. I knew Cory liked to keep a flexible sex life, so it'd make sense for him to jump at the opportunity to spend a night away sampling the local men for something he's not already had before. It was also a chance to break into something kinky, if just for one night alone.

I smiled at this delightful girl at the check-in desk. She'd only been there for a few months, but she knew me by my reputation. She quaked a little when she saw me and blushed when I said hello, but it was to be expected. I might see about getting her number later...

Room 204 was on the second floor. The numbers were pretty much meaningless if you didn't know the hotels code. The first digit was the floor number. Below ten was comprised of standard suites near the elevator, above ten and it was located further from the elevator and had a bit more fancy decorating. Clearly Cory wasn't going all out this time. The first time he and I had hooked up, I remember it being on some fancy king size bed with some huge ass plasma in the corner. Now it seemed we were downsizing.

When I found myself exiting the elevator onto the second floor, it wasn't hard to find his room. Just a few short paces away from the lifts, I listened closely against the polished wood for sounds of life within. It was reasonably quiet, save for the muted clicks of somebody fiddling with a phone. I took it then as my opportunity to knock, quite loudly as I wanted to make a good impression, and waited for him to respond,

"Who is it?"

"You know who." I somewhat snarled, surprising even myself for the astounding level of vehemence and authority that sounded in my voice, "Open this door now, boy, or for every second it's not you'll be getting a crack of my belt against your sissy ass."

There was a stumble from within, followed by hurried pawsteps. They came close to the door before it was swung open, greeting me with the sight of a skunk who had kept his age well, dressed in what I assumed resembled some school uniform. But I could tell just by looking that it was cheap quality and designed for adults, not children; some gimmicky outfit bought from a second-rate porn shop, most likely. He himself was only above average in... well, in pretty much everything. His height bordered somewhere just below the six foot, his wasn't overweight but neither was he stick thin, nor massively built. His looks, at least to me, were alright, and acceptable enough should you be meeting through a site online, so I had no qualms. But he was just average in every sense of the word, and so that's all I can really say to describe him. You're typical, male skunk, granted you take away the rather rank odour you might associate with feral animals.

"I've been a bad boy, sir..." He drawled with his tone sickly sweet and already getting my back up. Once you've been spoilt by meeting some of the more experienced furs out there, when you meet a reasonable one who manages to screw everything up with a clichéd porno line, it just gets on your nerves.

"Then you're in need of some punishment." Well, what can I say? If you can't beat them; join them. But I'll certainly be beating his ass, and he'd have to enjoy it. I'd made it past the threshold now, so no holes were barred.

He clambered up onto the bed where the sheets had been pretty much discarded and thrown off. Either CorkscrewAlbert had had an exceedingly fun time ploughing that skunk's hole and really loosening him up, or ButtBoy4U had managed to rouse quite the gathering for today's catch. He turned around, black and white striped tail lifted carelessly up, exposing a gleaming bubbled ass that just begged to be whipped. I could see the dribbles of men before me marking that crack of his, so clearly there was some competition in play here to see who could make the skunk cum whilst thinking about when the nightly visits were over. I unbuckled my belt, pulling it free through the loops and let it drop down to its full length. I wasn't gonna just whip him with that, experience had taught me better than that, I just wanted him to see how big it was. As we all know, size truly does matter when it comes to horses.

He bit his bottom lip and made some muffled cute moan that did nothing for me and fidgeted about on all fours whilst he waited for me to make a move - typical sub, always wanting to top to take control. I didn't make much fuss about it as there was little point. Instead I doubled the belt over on itself, making a tight loop that doubled the thickness of its original size, with the buckled end clasped firmly in my paw. The metal was warmed to my touch from having been worn on the way here, so it felt comfortable to me as I shifted it into place. I approached the vulnerable skunk, darkening glints in my eyes as I licked my lips. Oh I'd have fun with this...

I placed a paw against the small of his back and pulled him a little closer to the edge. Off came those school shorts, they practically tore away. He said nothing at the time, but boy did he give me hell for it. I had to fork out for a new costume, not that it cost anything; still, kudos to him for being a bitch and sticking to principle. But it left him nude from the waist down, letting me get my first sight of his pathetic boy cock. Goodness knows how he managed to satisfy his wife and have kids with that thing, because it was shorter than most. Must have been what fuelled his need for humiliation and domination, since if his anatomy was so small, then logic dictated he must feel small against other men, just as he had done throughout all his life. I grasped it in one paw, stroking it indelicately and making him squirm. Oversensitive then... and when I drew my paw away it was slick with lube and cum. So he'd shot already tonight, that'd make things difficult, at least for him.

Glancing about, I searched for something that might aid me with the task ahead. The skunk had brought a pitiful amount of gear with him, nothing short of a few dildos and vibrators - the usual stuff - and maybe the odd cock ring or two. But I found what I was looking for; a pair of handcuffs, low quality of course, half-concealed beneath a discarded pair of filthy underwear. Judging by the stench and colour of them, I'd say maybe CorkscrewAlbert had left more than just his seed in the skunk's arse. I picked up the cuffs and snatched one arm from beneath Cory. Immediately I latched one cuff around the wrist, and before he could make any protest I pinched the other wrist and locked that up tightly behind his back. His body weight fell forward and his face crashed into the tussled damp sheets. He whined indignantly, but I ignored him, my paws were too busy groping that ass and seeing the damage already done to his hole. I probed a finger into the sticky confines and played with a load that had smeared itself about the rim. Maybe two, three guys had already made their mark here... so that'd be five lashings per dude, which at its maximum equals to fifteen - plus one for good luck, so sixteen.

"Count for me, boy. If you don't count, I'll start over each and every time."

He whimpered at this, maybe because I didn't specifically say when we'd stop, but who the fuck cares. You don't goad an internet stranger to a hotel room and expect things to go exactly to plan in your indulgent fantasy. If he didn't want this, then none of us would be here.

I leant back off the bed and inspected by firing range. An easy enough target, especially now that the skunk was practically immobile and defenceless. His head was turned to one side, just so that I could see his heavily flustered face staring back at me petrified. That might have been enough to make me think twice were it not for his rock hard cock jutting downwards. I raised the belt and he clenched his eyes shut so it wouldn't have to see it coming. I brought it down firmly but not as hard as I could have - best to start off easy, regardless of where he might have been on the ready scale. He yelped out when the soft leather made a slap against his arse cheek, quivering with such delight as he yowled out 'one'.

I delivered another, swifter this time around, and he screeched out the number two, a reddened mark now forming on his cheeks. A third came, but by then, though I'd hate to admit this, Cory was no longer there. Warren Fisher was, tied up in the same prone position looking back at me. He was egging me on, ordering me to whip him, just like he made me fuck him or else. Cory was forgotten as I belted out a fourth lashing, Warren yelling out four in the skunk's voice. All my anger and frustration at my stupid suddenly came to a boiling point and seethed over the edge; I sailed right through five to seven without so much as caring if Cory spoke aloud the numbers or not.

Eight came with a smashing blow, something that really made the air ring with the whistle of leather. Warren's body jerked within his bonds, but his voice remained just as orgasmic as ever.

Nine was decidedly brutal, as it landed on the spot where one must have been, adding a newer welt to the fading old one. I had no excuses for what I was doing. To Cory, he must have thought I was just getting worked up, rolling into the swing of things and delivering the most realistic experience possible, but I wasn't. I didn't dare tell him afterwards he'd become my punching bag, but yeah... He was just that; a stress ball. Every little shitty detail was unleashed upon him, thrown through my belt and left its mark upon his presented rump. He'd heal, and the marks would fade and to him it'd be something to jack off to later, but I don't think he'd be much too pleased if he knew the truth.

Ten and eleven slapped him on either cheek, making him squeal like a little pig. I could almost see that burning pain in his eyes as he accepted the punishment I doled out straight from my petulance. God, I fucking hated the world.

Twelve.

Everything was so fucking stupid!

Thirteen... He was biting his lip, whimpering.

Why was life so hard?

Fourteen...

It was never my fault...

Fifteen...

I had to stop, breathing in deeply and exhaling as though I'd run a marathon. His arse was a sore, tender looking state, coloured an angry red and shivering. No more. Good luck didn't come into this. I had no right to be dealing out anybody's luck today.

I let the belt fall loose again, relaxing into its single strip as I let myself sit down on the edge of the bed beside his beaten ass. Rubbing the tip of the leather across the reddened streaks, I cooed softly, knowing already my mistakes were not his to deal with. Still though, I had to thank him now for being such a good boy and letting me vent my fury,

"Such a sweet boy... Are you sorry for being bad?"

He nodded his head, not so much making a sound, but probably because I'd belted the confidence out of him. As much as I can look back on it now and hate myself for getting so worked up and then just unloading on him - not in the good sense either - it had been an effective thing to do. That bitch was just about ready to do whatever I said, and was keen to do it well in fear I'd fly off the handle again. He'd forgive me. Guys always did. Hard to resist a stallion when they're offering you a fantasy fulfilled with a cock like mine.

"Come suck sir then, show him how much you're sorry."

He rolled onto his back, shuffling awkwardly as he tried to manoeuvre himself with the cuffs on. I had to wait a bit, but he eventually managed to get into some semblance of a sitting position, with his back propped against the headboard, cushioned with a few pillows. I realised I'd have to do some of the work, but at least this way he'd have little choice - though first I myself had to strip down too.

I rose up, letting him watch from his seat as I slipped off the haggard blazer and tossed it across the room to slump over a chair. I strung off the tie, letting that drop to the floor before it began unbuttoning my shirt. Slowly I exposed my toned chest, watching his eyes greedily eat my torso up as though he'd never had anything better. It untucked itself, coming loose and dropping to the floor in a creased mess. I didn't care much. I wouldn't need it again, so long as my life continued to be abysmal with what it offered. The belt was already gone, so all that was left was to shimmy out of my faded suit pants and stand there proudly with a hefty bulge in two-day-old briefs. Who can blame me? I was in a rut because of a shitty life. Who the hell has time to bother with changing underwear when the only company you get is landlord who feels like he's better than you and drops by once in a blue moon?

Cory didn't seem to mind. Of course, a guy like him wouldn't. He licked his lips and salivated as I swaggered towards him, my natural stink sending him to some excited plateau. I must have smelt foul to any ordinary person on the street, but to him I was a musky god of sex that was about to have my way with him. I'd certainly been there before.

I straddled his waist and lowered my hips down so that I rested gently on top of his abdomen, with his solid cock rubbing along the crevice to my ass. I gyrated a little bit there, letting his sensitive tool rub its slimy head against my briefs before I lifted them up, pushing the fabric against his face. He obediently opened his muzzle and suckled, his tongue licking along where the bulge's form was, leaving a damp stain where his spit travelled. It felt taunting, feeling those delicate flicks brush against my slowly hardening member, and I had to stop myself from just flexing my cock and potentially ripping my underwear. They weren't in such a great state anyway, pretty much threadbare in places and even having holes in others.

I think at that point I must've been thinking, 'You know what? Fuck it.'

Digging my fingers into the weathered cloth, I tugged hard, keeping my hips still as, with a soft and elongated rip, the briefs peeled away. Cory's eyes lit up as my stallion cock rolled out and slapped itself against his head, heavy pre rubbing into his fur and leaving a sticky trail wherever it bounced. His tongue darted out and licked along the fleshy sides as I bunched up the underwear and lifted it to my nose, inhaling the sharp tang of my scent. It was rich, maybe too potent for an average bottom, but the skunk breathed it in like it was life-saving oxygen - perhaps he was just used to questionable smells. Still, my maleness rubbed along his face, the blunt head edging further and further back until his lips were kissing the dribbling eye that stared back at him. He needed no encouragement as he opened up and graciously swallowed the dick being edged into him. I couldn't help but let out a grunted sigh of relief as I felt some welcome lips swallow my cock again. Gently I pushed myself forward, burying my member down into him. He gagged and choked a little, but we were both men here; he knew what he was doing. He adjusted his position, switched his breathing to his nose, and soon, wouldn't you know it, my pubes were mashing up into his nose. His eyes slid shut as this low moan rumbled up from his chest and vibrated along my cock. The skunk's throat was an engorged delight, swelling out as my meat was stuff down his gullet. Gently I pulled back, removing my musky crotch from his face and watching that bulge slide its way up. For a top, I had always found it mesmerising to watch. The whole concept of my dick actually disappearing into someone was hypnotic. You have to be amazed at what the body is capable of; usually some guys would be gagging far too much and struggling to breathe right now, managing only a couple of inches, but with the right training and the right men, you can do almost anything that's normally impossible.

I pulled out until my head was sat right on his tongue again before I drove back in. I could feel the muscles erratically ripple and flex about my tool as it slipped down again, the weak wiggles sending an alien sensation out through my groin. My heavy balls bounced off his dribbling chin, their weight knocking his jaw as he played victim to my monster. Bracing myself against the wall, I spread my knees apart just so that I could get a good position to fuck his face. Each time I pulled out I made a special effort to let his straining drooling cock graze against my own pucker, flicking my tail this way and that across his thighs and balls. I could hold off cumming if I truly wanted to - I could even keep this up for hours on end whilst he sat there with his head buried against my lap - but today I wanted to be naughty. I'd see how long he could go, getting him to a teetering point on the edge and teaching him a valuable lesson for whoring himself out so many times. Let's see how far his resolve could go if I carried on tickling his sack with my tail's whips and butt-brushes, and how far this slut mentality could last in him until he could have to cum without his paws, another male using his throat to their heart's content. I'd known bitches that'd refused to do anything anal related and had purely gotten off with just a guy's cock in their mouths or hands. The mind is a strange thing and kinks are even stranger.

He kept squirming every time he came close, and I would stop and allow him a moment or two to catch his breath before we were at it again. I won't lie; it was fun to see him desperately try so hard. Reminded me of the shit happening to me right now, which felt good to finally inflict upon another - the futility of trying so hard to get a little bit of pleasure, pleasing another person until they keep stringing you on with no reward... On and on, over and over, again and again, all the way until you're just about ready to quit. Cory was getting to that point fast, his expression growing more and more desperate as he was just about ready to cave in to begging. But I would have no slut of mine begging. It was beneath them, in my eyes, only the lowest of the low would beg, like I did, have done, will do again...

No. Next follows the finale, the masterpiece of really screwing with people... You screw them. They have go fuck themselves.

I lay back, fully flat out across the bed opposite the headboard, pulling my cock free from Cory's aching muzzle and finally releasing him from his pinned position. Without the use of his arms though, he was helpless, but not useless.

"Come on then, little boy, come fuck yourself on my meat."

I wiggled my cock with one paw at the base, showing how the organ flexed and bounced. It was an impressive specimen, and I was proud of it. I loved the cowgirl position so much... It gave me a chance to simply sit back and watch this bitch do his magic. Awkwardly, he got up from his position, shuffling on his knees along the bed until his legs were spread either side of my waist. He sat down on my abdomen, using his paws behind his back to feel and grab at my manhood. It felt good, having those little paws dart out and try to get a good grip, but eventually he managed it with a bit of teasing from me. I watched in earnest as the boy lifted himself up, sliding my cock along his crack until it came to the well worked over hole that so many had entered before me. It was slick, and warm, and gooey. I could feel all the juices running down my shaft before he'd even begun to lower himself onto me. In fact, he'd left a splodge of cum on my stomach where he'd sat before, and even streaked across the sheets were the puddles of jizz that had leaked from his worn hole.

Then he lowered himself down... My crown pushed against his rim and met no resistance. He just gobbled me down, like a good slut he was, and he wasted no time in being daring. He would drop down quite quickly onto my shaft, stopping only when the flare punched his gut a little too hard. Gradually, with each little bounce of his ass, he took me in until his cheeks were nestled cutely in my lap. His face was flushed bright red as he moaned and whined, lifting himself up and down only by the strength in his legs. I could see it was a real strain, but this was how life had to be. With his paws bound behind his back and with no help from me, I expected him to make both of us cum. It was cruel, but he had to learn. He had to learn that sometimes things aren't fair and that he can't have what he wants. I stroked his calves, thumbing the tiring muscles as he slid up and down my dick, coaxing him on,

"Harder... you can do it, come on boy, speed up!"

Well... more like ordered him then.

To his merit, he did in fact speed up and attempt to slam himself down harder onto me. I could feel his wet, cum-coated walls slip over me, soaking into my fur and crotch, washing over my balls as it seeped out. I should have filmed this, that would have been fun to watch back over, as all these males before me painted my bigger balls white... I'd soon have to add my load too though. He was doing a damn fine job, regardless of his fitness or stamina. His cock was bouncing and quivering wildly as an orgasm was beginning to form, but I was going to get their first. I'd been holding it off until now, saving it for the right moment, but I wanted to ruin his. I wanted to get my pleasure first so that it overrode his. That's how it worked in this world; the bigger men get to go first before the little people can have their petty fill. I grunted, huffed and howled as I felt my balls seize up, straining until they began to flow freely, gushes of cum pouring into his already quite full guts. Cory whimpered his eyes wide like he'd just been startled, shaking as his stomach began to swell just a little, poked out by my fattening flared member. He just sat straight down on my lap, plugged up by my cockhead and unable to do anything but relish the sensation of being practically pissed in with cum. I knew what that feeling was like, so I just grinned and bucked my hips a little, just to put him over the edge too. He gave this tremendous yelp, gasping loudly until I got a face full of skunk cum streaking up my chest and across my washboard abs. I licked my lips, sampling his weak taste as he fell back against the headboard, my cock still lodged firmly up his ass. He looked exhausted and quite right too... Everyone always worked their asses off, so why shouldn't he work his ass onto my dick too? But nobody got a free ride...

I pulled my hips back, and letting my cock slide out with ease from his stretched rump. Horse spooge pooled onto the bed and slopped about me where I sat. He shivered and groaned, clutching his gut as his bowels emptied themselves of the reservoir. I just smirked, lifted him up into a sitting position and pointed down at my manhood, slick with not just my own cum, but the jizz of many other males and the skunk's own natural musk,

"Get cleaning, or else I'm not letting you out of those cuffs..."

He whimpered shyly, but his prick was getting hard again. I knew he loved it really, and he didn't mind all the abuse. But sometimes I wished I could be like that, that I had a higher tolerance to all the bullshit - I wished that I could be like him and could just bounce back ready for more... I guess I'm just not one of those people. I just laid back and let him get to work as he suckled on my messy flagpole, greedily licking up the entire thick, gloopy mess that was left behind from his little dirty affairs.

~ ~ ~

I don't know what time I got home. I couldn't be bothered looking at my watch. It must have been late because I vaguely remembered I had that misty breath thing, where it swirls about as though you were smoking. But it wasn't really the time that anybody was up and about; that quiet time of night where you can wander and not bump into another soul for streets at a time until you came across a fellow night-stroller. Plus, being my size and stature, nobody was gonna mug me, so I had that going for me too, I suppose...

Basically, you just don't expect to run into anyone.

I was only heading up to my apartment, not really paying attention to the stuff around me until I got to my floor. That was when I did run into someone, and someone I didn't particularly want to see...

Joe was sat hunched over by my door, a bin bag filled to bursting point beside him, with his school bag slung over his shoulder on the other. My first thought was why the heck he was skulking outside my apartment door... had he forgotten his keys and his parents were out? Did he want to talk about that Errol guy again and be an idiot? But no... He'd done it, hadn't he? Oh for fuck's sake... Had he really gone and done it?

"Joe...?"

The mongrel looked up at me, tears stained down his face, an expression that would have broken anybody's heart, let alone mine, not even speaking a word. He just stared at me, with this dead, empty expression that I knew all too well.

It was because I had seen that expression staring back at me in the mirror.

"Oh you stupid fucking kid..."

He burst into tears, and immediately I felt bad. But he was. I had warned him and he'd ignored me. He was so bloody stupid it was insane... But what's done was done, and there was no way to undo it all. He'd have to live with his choice now. There's no get-out-of-jail-free card, no secret clause, no reset button... I was proud in a way he'd had the balls to make the jump himself to come out, but he'd really suffered the fall... He'd been taught probably one the harshest lessons of his lifetime, and he actually for once didn't need a prick like me to teach it.

I just strode up and unlocked my front door, picking up the bin bag which was filled with something pliable and soft - probably his clothes, or at least what he could grab before he was thrown out.

"Get inside kid..."

I hate myself sometimes. What am I going to do, Mr Diary?

What the fuck do I do now?