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The first thing that Gene noticed was that the picnic table had a blanket on top, like a tablecloth for the afternoon. The old wolf raised his eyebrows, but made no judgment. It was a personal choice, he supposed, although he would have preferred a bed. But the father wanted an outdoor session, possibly because of the weather. Nothing but sunshine and breeze for two months. Gene appreciated it as much as he felt he needed to.

The unmarked sedan crunched on the dirt of the house, around the bend from a grove of birches. The New England rural habitat protected them from the view of watchful neighbors and passers-by. The father - Matt? Mark? - told Gene that nobody would come down. Nobody had come down in five years, and he didn't expect anyone today. The wolf stepped out and watched as the front door opened. He had been an expected guest, it seemed.

The father, a golden Labrador, held his son's hand as they came down the front steps. The boy looked younger than advertised. His dad said he was five, but he was shorter, more curious, his mouth slightly open as he suckled on his fingers and stared at Gene. The puppy was naked, but his dad kept a pair of khaki shorts on. It was obvious that he wasn't wearing anything underneath. The child's little member bobbed as he took nervous steps through the grass.

"Up we go," he muttered as he put his hands underneath his son's arms, lifting him up to the table. Gene paced over and started to undo his jeans, keeping his Zepplin shirt on. The boy stared at the logo, and the wolf wondered if he could read any part of it. The older lab coughed. "So. Here's Connor."

"Hi, Connor." There we go - the dad's name was Mark. As if it mattered. "Do you have him all cleaned up? You know my preferences," he said.

Mark sat on the picnic table and took both of his son's ankles. Connor leaned back until he was lying on the table with his legs hanging off the edge, as if he had done this several times before. Gene liked them prepared. The child let out a small whimper as his father placed a hand on his stomach and lifted his legs into the air. "Da?" the boy said, staring at the adult with giant brown eyes.

Mark patted his stomach gently. "It's okay, buddy." Gene stepped out of his pants and bent down, squatting as the tip of his cock brushed the lawn. The boy's rear was freshly cleaned, bathed inside and out. Two tiny cheeks spread to show off the reddened hole and the tiny sack above it. A tail came up to block his view, but the wolf pulled it out of the way.

"Good."

As Gene stood, he noticed Mark giving him a shy sort of smile. He was a young dad, average build, with a cheerful demeanor and a moderate bulge in his shorts. Perhaps it took all types to whore out a boy. Still, the lakehouse and the table were much better locations than cigarette-stained basement walls, or abandoned gas station restrooms.

Gene took Connor's ankles away from Mark's control. The lab reached into his pocket to pull out a small bottle, handing it over. The older man nodded his thanks and stared down at the toddler. Was he a toddler? There was never a clear definition in his mind. It was obvious that the boy knew what was coming. He gave an agitated whine and tried to kick out of the wolf' grasp, but Gene's fingers had endured more. He heard a zipping sound, and looked over to see Mark's shorts undone and a squat cock stroked. The dog stared at his boy with a sort of wonder, as if he loved his distress.

Grabbing the bottle, the man's fingers squeezed a large portion onto his cock, leaving the child's leg to dangle. Connor put finger after finger in his mouth as Gene rubbed another dollop on his aching member, the purple head swollen as he felt himself rise. This was going to be one of his tighter jobs, and definitely one of his younger ones. He placed the head of his cock right up against the entrance to his prey, testing out the size. His glans alone was the size of a plum, and the child would be torn asunder. But according to Mark, Connor had taken quite a few evenings of this before. He shouldn't be worrying.

One sticky hand reached back up to grab the boy's leg and force his legs apart. The squeals of panic reached a crescendo, muffled by the fingers stuffed into the cub's mouth. Mark shushed him as he came over and started to stroke behind his ears, stiff member bobbing up and down next to his son's face.

Gene began to lean forwards, bringing Connor's asshole closer to him. The warmth began to engulf his head, pushing his foreskin back, but it was still a tight fit. Grunting, the wolf tried to push inside, but slipped up and grazed his yellow thighs instead. "He's tight as a fist," he mentioned to Mark, and they shared a chuckle as the older man leaned back for a second push inside.

This time, he held onto Connor's thighs and shove himself forwards, manipulating the limp puppy like a mannequin. A bark of pain shot out of Connor as the head slipped inside, and Gene grunted like a hog as he felt himself slip into the cub. Even at his hardest, he knew he was still going to be flexible and engorged, so getting into the boy would be no problem. The cub started to cry, a steady whimper and sob that twisted his face up. The pain was unimaginable, Gene thought, considering he was getting stuffed with a cock practically the size of his forearm.

"Christ. I'm gonna tear this little shit apart," he said, trying to push deeper inside of the puppy's hole. There was no way he was going to last any length of time fucking this. Looking up, he saw that Mark was stroking himself as he watched his son being raped, rubbing his fingers over his head as he reached over to pull on his boy's tiny penis.

He noticed that Mark was clean-cut, but Connor's skin was long and loose. From all of his years in the field, the wolf could tell a stretched foreskin when he saw one. Daddy knew how to treat his boy right. As he watched, the lab took pinched the hood and pulled, tugging it upwards as the boy let out a scream of indignation. "Da! Da!" he cried out, over and over, as if he could make his father disappear.

One final push drove Gene's cock into the depths of the child, and the sobbing reached its highest point before he started to thrust. His fingers squeezed those golden thighs as he pushed his slimy cock in and out of the boy's abused asshole, watching the edges pulled and pushed by the sheer force of his cock's girth. His dad still twisted his skin, precum beading at the end of his cock while he watched his son fucked raw.

Mark let go for a moment, and Gene continued to thrust into the vice of the boy's ass as his daddy let go of himself to hold on to the back of his head. Connor opened his mouth as if to say something, but his daddy silenced it with a gentle kiss, a little peck on the lips that made the cub pause for half a second.

Gene huffed as he felt a small sweat breaking on his forehead. His thrusts were harder to control, and he knew he wasn't going to last long in a boy this small for this long. The hiccoughing whimpers interspersed with daddy's kisses made his balls clench with delight, profane pleasure in the coos and murmurs of the elder Labrador. The child's legs had gone limp as his muscles gave out, relinquished to the wolf's powerful thrusts.

The older man grunted as his body gave him the warning, but it was already too late. His hands squeezed the cub's fragile hips as he squealed in pain. He could feel his lungs working double-time to accommodate the energy he was pushing into the cub when he came. His orgasm was unforgivingly long, making him snarl as he pumped wave after wave of heavy seed into Connor's belly. The ring of his anus still clenched against his urethra as his sperm was jettisoned inside with the force of his desire. Each twitch and each throb made it expand, forcing the child to feel his ass ruined by the wolf in front of him.

"Good boy. Good Connor," Mark said, still stroking himself, staring at his son's limp body. The child was beyond noise, mouth open as dry sobs came out of his throat. The excruciating trial was nearing its end, and Gene nearly grinned at the thought of the cub returning to ride daddy's cock, that familiar feeling inside of his hole. His own head was still dizzy and ringing from the ordeal.

Connor squeaked and bit down on his knuckles as Gene began to pull out, gritting his teeth as the vice of the toddler's asshole milked his hefty shaft. He could feel the veins pressed by the muscle, pulled and squeezed until his head finally popped out. Red tints and off-white pearls dripped out of the child's hole, crimson from the pounding, utterly ruined by the wolf's roughness.

"Mark, thanks again. I'll be back for this one," he chuckled.

"Think he'll be able to do it?"

"Not soon. Did you hear him?"

Mark let go of his cock and shrugged. "I always do. You get used to it."

Gene pointed to the dog's member with a concerned furrow in his brow. But Mark just ran a finger over Connor's lips. The child gave him a confused glance, tears still dripping from his face, his mouth sealed for the time being. The wolf gave a knowing nod, stroking himself to drain what was left of his cum from his urethra.

It took him no time at all to get his clothes back on, listening in the background to the sound of Connor's little questions. "It's okay, buddy," he heard Mark say. "Hey, look at me. Okay? Look at me. It's gonna be okay." The wolf pulled his shirt over his belt as he began to walk to his car, as the whimpers turned muffled, and those muffled sounds turned to another choked scream of desperation.

When Gene pulled out of the driveway, he looked back at the lakehouse. But the trees were too thick to see around the bend, and already the sounds were dying down. The only noise the middle-aged man heard as he put himself in gear was the sound of a thousand cicadas, witnesses screaming their song to cover the crime of wolf and tender lamb.