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He was starting to wonder how long it had been. A few hours? Few days? The pronghorn didn't know. Everything was going so swell. He was just sitting at home, reading a book and enjoying his cup of coffee when the power suddenly went out. All the pronghorn could remember was going to check the fuse box when everything suddenly went black. Now the stag was sitting inside of a cold, probably filthy room, breathing heavily with a bag over his head and his hands tied behind his back. The pronghorn heard a loud creak, followed by someone walking into the room. The pronghorn started to pant and tried to wiggle out of his restraints, but they were bound around his hands tightly. The beast who stepped inside growled as he tore off the bag and stared at the pronghorn. It was a tall black rat, his fur scruffy and shedding, his clothing loosely hanging from his shoulders and waist. He looked skinny, his chest and belly flat, but his arms and legs were a little burly.

"Now I don't need to remind you of what'll happen if you scream for help again, do I?"

The pronghorn tried to open his left eye completely, but found he couldn't. The entire eye socket was swollen and black after the rat had to punch him into unconsciousness. He suddenly remembered how he got the soreness in his eye and winced. The pronghorn slowly shook his head, and the black rat wagged his tail.

"Good. Now get up," the rodent snarled.

The pronghorn didn't hesitate. He needed to get out of here, and fast. He got off the filthy stool he was sitting on, and the rat walked behind him and cut the ropes tying his wrists together. The stag exhaled and rubbed his sore wrists moments before the rat grabbed the back of his neck. He slowly guided the pronghorn outside as he shut the door. When the pronghorn looked around the area, his fear only grew. He was trapped in some kind of cell block in a prison, the cells all filled with various furs just like him. The noises inside the cell block were murderous, feral, guttural sounds that only made the pronghorn whimper as the rat forced him to walk forward. The stag glanced to his right and saw a burly, dark brown deer with huge antlers lying on the floor of his cell, gritting his teeth as a lithe and skinny rat sodomized him. The pronghorn was already getting worried; if a stag as strong as him could be controlled in such a manner, he didn't want to know what his captors had planned for him.

The pronghorn looked to his left and saw a few otters banging on their prison cell bars or clawing at the floor, longing to get free. Up ahead he saw what looked like a prison guard openly masturbating in front of someone's cell, gleefully observing a threesome involving male mice. The stag, unfortunately, was subjected to the harsh hygiene conditions of the prison also. Further down the corridor, the pronghorn saw a kangaroo using a bucket as a toilet, groaning as he defecated into the metal pail. Another guard--a wily black-backed jackal--was peeing on the floor, sighing with relief as the yellow urine got all over his footpaws. The pronghorn nearly gagged when he spotted a coyote vomiting all over his lizard roommate, who was sleeping on his filthy mattress and immediately woke up once the bile splashed onto his body. The pronghorn started to shake uncontrollably, whimpering and telling himself that he was going to be fine. They kept him alive--that meant no one in the prison wanted to kill him. But at the same time, the stag had a feeling that what they intended for the pronghorn would be much worse. The black rat and pronghorn reached the end of the cell block, where the rodent forced the stag to stand in front of the final cell.

"Here we are, your new roommate!"

The black rat took out his baton and bashed it against the metal bars a few times. "Gennett! Wake your ass up and come give your new roommate a kiss!"

It only took a few seconds before the grayish-brown coyote sprang from the corner of the cell and sprinted for the bars. He roared and began to snarl, sticking his arms in-between the bars as he tried to grab the pronghorn. The stag yelped as the black rat began to slowly move him forward towards the coyote. The coyote roared again, spittle and foam coming out his mouth. He stuck his muzzle in-between the bars and started to snap at the stag, snorting and opening his maw over and over again.

"Go on then. Give him a nice smooch!"

The pronghorn shouted and whined. He could smell blood on the coyote's breath, amongst other things. He seriously began to wonder if the coyote was a cannibal when he noticed the various spots of blood inside his cell. The stag couldn't control himself. He whimpered as he involuntarily started to pee on the floor, his urine splashing in-between his feet as he tried to get away from the coyote.

"No! NO!"

The stag's throat was so close to the coyote that when the canine swiped his claws at him, he almost cut open the pronghorn's neck. The stag screamed again, his face only inches away from the coyote.

"BARTLET!"

The black rat sighed heavily and moved the pronghorn's head away when he saw a heavyset rat walking towards him. The whimpering stag shook and nearly slipped in his own urine as the black rodent made him turn around.

"Now what have I said about treating our new guests?"

"He talked back to me earlier. He tried to scream, tried to run away!"

"So you damage our property?"

The heavyset rat reached Bartlet and the pronghorn. He looked down at the skinnier rodent before blinking and looking at the pronghorn too. The stag had to turn away and scrunch up his face. The larger rat smelled horrible, like he spent all night sleeping in his sweat. Even now the chubby rodent was sweaty from his head down to his legs. He wasn't in a prison guard uniform; he only wore loose-fitting jean shorts that covered his knees. He also had on a pair of boxers beneath his shorts, and some socks that used to be white and gray, but now had a tint of yellow and brown to them. The stag glanced at the rat, taking note of his yellowish-brown fur, his long whiskers, and his incredibly huge stomach. The big rat scratched his tummy before grabbing the pronghorn by the chin and turning his head towards him. He looked at the stag's black eye and snorted.

"You're lucky he can still see out this eye. I told you time and time again not to harm our merchandise until after they arrive!"

"But sir--"

"Shut up. Someone had a little 'accident' over in Cell 49. You should go clean it up before we attract more flies."

Bartlet didn't see the point in arguing with his commanding officer. He sighed heavily and nodded.

"Yes, Mr. Havvik."

After that, the black rat proceeded to walk away, grumbling to himself as he started to walk down the corridor. The oversized rat walked over to the pronghorn and patted him on the shoulder, making the stag yelp.

"Don't worry about ole Bartlet, or this coyote for that matter. Hehe, you'll be spending your time with me for now!"

The pronghorn didn't trust the rat, but he was the only one in the prison who seemed kind enough not to look at him like a piece of meat. The yellowish-brown rat put his arm over the stag's shoulder as he started to walk him through the prison and up a set of stairs.

"Please...let me go. I haven't done anything--I was just--"

"Nonsense! You should stay and have a little fun first! ...My goodness, I haven't even introduced myself yet! I'm Taylor Havvik. What's your name?"

"Uh...J-John," said the pronghorn quietly, lying about his real name.

Taylor broke out into a fit of laughter. "If your last name's 'Doe' I might just die laughing!"

"Good."

Taylor heard the pronghorn's condescending tone with the word he muttered. "Now that's not very nice! We're just two furs having a casual conversation!"

"This is not casual. You kidnapped me, you're holding me prisoner! And you took all my goddamn clothes!"

"Of course we did! After all, this is a prison facility that I redesigned to my likings! Not too many furs or scaleys know about this place. It's in the middle of nowhere, away from the rest of the world. I used to be in a place like this...I know a lotta things about jail, Prongy."

"That's not my name," the stag mumbled.

Taylor chuckled. "You've seen how these furs are around you. You've seen how my guards act. But I'm different from them. I know you don't trust me, but I assure you, there's nothing you need to worry about."

"So you won't mind letting me go then? I...y-you said you're not like everyone else. S-so you'll let me go, right?"

"By all means, yes! But there's a few things you need to do for me first..."

Prongy swallowed hard. He could already tell by the size and strength of the rat that he could easily sodomize him until his tailhole was torn in half. The pronghorn started to shake again, and was glad that his bowels were empty, or else he might've defecated all over the floor in fear. Taylor and Prongy finally arrived to a steel door on the third floor of the prison cell block. The heavyset rat unlocked it and let the pronghorn step inside. Much to his surprise, he found himself staring at a comforting room with a desk, few chairs and table inside. It looked like the warden's office, only a bit less hygienic. Despite the comforting atmosphere and the fireplace keeping the room warm, Prongy still noticed the various white, yellow, brown, and even red blotches smeared around the carpet and walls. The whole place reeked of testosterone, the stench of dozens of males who participated in various sexual acts. But the one odor Prongy could identify was that of a sweaty, shirtless rat who occupied this office. Taylor stepped inside the room and closed and locked the door, the sound of which worried Prongy. There wasn't even a window in the office, and the only air vent inside was locked, sealing the heat and odors within.

Taylor stared at Prongy from behind, examining his reddish-brown fur. His plump buttocks were as white as cauliflower, and his short tail made the pronghorn look adorable. Taylor smiled as he reached behind and groped the stag, grasping each buttock and giving them a firm squeeze. Prongy yelped and started to whimper, hoping the rodent didn't stick his cock inside him right then and there. But after Taylor squeezed the buttocks, he chuckled and gave Prongy's behind a firm slap. The rodent stood in front of Prongy, staring down at the stag's features. He looked down at his white belly, which wasn't huge, but still distended and slightly plump. His muscles on his arms and legs were noticeable, although the pronghorn still wasn't entirely fit due to his gut. The rat poked the stag's pudge before crouching down and looking at the stag's groin. His balls hung low, both of which the size of golf balls. Taylor reached forward and tried to grasp them, but the pronghorn whimpered and quickly backed away.

"Right...still uncomfortable about that. Maybe later then."

Prongy wanted to leave as soon as possible. He didn't want Taylor touching his body anymore. "So...about setting me free?"

"Hmm? Ah, that!"

Taylor walked directly in front of Prongy, pressing his big gut against the stag's body. Prongy turned his head away when the overwhelming odor of the rat started to become too much for him. The rat scratched his hairy gut and sighed.

"You're gonna please me! The more satisfied I am, the better your chances are of getting out of here! If you refuse to do any tasks I ask of you, you get to stay here for a whole month and make friends with all of the guards and inmates! ...But I'm sure you don't wanna do that. So, all you gotta do is comfort me, make me happy. If I'm happy, you'll be happy! Sounds easy enough, yes?"

The pronghorn nodded. "Yeah...easy."

"Good! Now then..."

Taylor groaned as he turned around, showing off his hairy back and some of the rolls of fat around his midsection, just above his fat ass.

"Rub my back. It's been a very long day today. I could certainly use a good backrub!"

Prongy blinked. This didn't seem difficult or menacing at all. Taylor wasn't acting like a sadist or a monster who couldn't keep his dick in his pants. He seemed more like a lazy, laid-back fur who enjoyed the finer, more comforting things in life. So the pronghorn reached up and started to rub Taylor's back, moving his hands up and down the rough fur. Taylor exhaled and smiled, his thick tail wagging as Prongy caressed the rat's back with his delicate hands. Prongy frowned when he noticed that his hands were becoming greasy and sweaty, but he ignored it. The pronghorn wanted to please Taylor even more, so he stopped using his hands and slowly bent his head down. He moved forward, poking Taylor's back with his antlers. Taylor shouted and started to giggle as the pronghorn began to move his head up and down, scratching his back with his antlers.

"Yeeeaaahhh...there we go. No, no--up. Up! Oh, that's goooood...right there..." the rodent mumbled.

Prongy was steadily becoming less afraid of the rat. He seemed almost goofy at this point, not murderous or menacing like any of the other creatures in the prison facility. Prongy kept grinding his antlers against a certain portion of the rat's back, making the rat moan even louder. He started to move further south, his muzzle not far from the smelly rodent's behind. Somehow, Taylor managed to time it perfectly. The large rat farted, the flatulence bursting out of his big rump and sputtering against his filthy underwear and jean shorts. Prongy quickly shouted and backed away, plugging his nose once the foul stench hit him instantly. Taylor immediately turned around and started to laugh, scratching his head with embarrassment.

"Sorry 'bout that! Guess I shoulda warned you first! Been on a new diet, so I gotta stuff myself with lots of fiber and veggies. And I've been known to chug an entire quart of milk in one sitting, so that doesn't bode well for you!"

Taylor was about to say something else when his ass lit up again. This time he let out a long, squishy fart that vibrated against his underwear and made his fat buttocks jiggle. The hot gas flew out of his ass instantly, heating up the already stuffy office in seconds. Taylor laughed again as he plugged his nose and waved a paw behind his ass.

"Fwoo!! Now that was a nasty one! Guess that explains why the guards nicknamed me the 'Gas Bomber'!"

Prongy shut his eyes and exhaled. "Um...so, um...you don't have to--"

Taylor chuckled. "Prongy, when it comes to my ass, there's no telling what's on its mind. Sometimes I only let out a few squeakers. Sometimes I'm passing gas for a full hour straight. And sometimes my ass loosens itself and releases a mudslide of epic proportions, regardless of whether or not I'm sitting on a toilet...or still wearing underwear."

Prongy groaned with disgust as he kept his nose plugged with both hands. The rat heard his stomach growling, but there wasn't any gas slithering towards his anus just yet. Taylor sat down on a chair with a hefty sigh and placed his footpaws on the table. The pronghorn looked at the beast's giant footpaws and watched as he wiggled his toes.

"But my ass isn't of concern to you right now! It's not just my back that's killing me; my footpaws are tired and worn out as well! It'd be a pleasure if you could give them a proper massage too."

The pronghorn blinked as he observed the rodent's sweaty socks. He curled his toes a few times, the rat impatiently waiting for the stag to get started. Considering how foul the rat's farts and body odor was, Prongy figured his footpaws wouldn't be so bad. So he got down on his knees in front of the table, exhaled, and stared at the massive footpaws in front of him. The moment he leaned his head forward, his face scrunched up. The stag was wrong; his footpaws were just as funky as the rest of the rat's body. The sweaty socks were warm and wet, having spent the last few days soaking up all the rancid fluids Taylor's footpaws released. The pronghorn couldn't tell which sections of the footpaws smelled the worst, but he definitely knew that sticking his muzzle any closer would cause him to gag. He kept his distance, trying not to cough as the heady stench filled his nostrils. Prongy reached forward and grasped a footpaw with each hand. Then he started to press his fingers into each footpaw. Taylor took a deep breath and rumbled, smiling as he felt the stag's hands rubbing along the toes and soles.

Prongy told himself to suck it up. After all, the stench could've been worse. His footpaws reeked of musk and bad cheese, but it was nothing too overwhelming. So the pronghorn squeezed the footpaws, scratched them, caressed them as gently as possible, hoping to please the chubby rat sooner than later so he could finally leave. The stag watched as Taylor wiggled and curled his toes over and over again, rumbling and sighing with delight. Prongy flared his nostrils as he took in the foul smell of the footpaws, forcing himself to get accustomed to the odor. But it wasn't working just yet. Prongy squeezed the rat's footpaws tightly, keeping a firm grip on them and digging his nails into the socks. Then he reached over and started to massage one footpaw, squeezing the sole with one hand while rubbing the toes and the ball of the footpaw with the other. Prongy sniffed again, surprised that he didn't scrunch up his face. If he didn't know any better, he seemed like he was getting used to the foul stench. The stag shook his head, huffing and telling himself that this rat was disgusting and keeping him against his free will.

"Now Prongy, how can you possible rub my footpaws without allowing them to feel your gentle hands?"

The stag blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, my footpaws won't receive the ultimate experience with these socks on...they're like a shield, covering a fur's bare, beautiful body. They're gonna need to go."

"T...take your socks off?"

Taylor smiled and nodded. "Absolutely."

Prongy huffed. Taylor was starting to make this harder for him. It was one thing to grope his stinky socks, but now the rat wanted him to touch his bare, sweaty footpaws too. Nevertheless, the stag was lucky; Taylor hadn't even tried to abuse him yet. Although when Prongy told himself "yet," he started to get apprehensive again. Sighing, Prongy grabbed Taylor's nasty socks and pulled them off slowly. After he tossed them to the floor, the stag gagged. Taylor's footpaws were even bigger with his socks off. They were nearly the size of a kangaroo's footpaws, incapable of fitting inside even the simplest of footwear. The paws were a little dirty, but not smeared with muck and other grime that would make Prongy vomit. Each sole was sweaty, the toes were long with black toe claws, and the stench was horrendous. Taylor was right; the socks were a shield. But instead of shielding the footpaws' flesh, they covered up the stench. With the socks gone, Taylor's footpaws were free to pollute the room with the ghastly odor of malt vinegar, musk and cheese. The yellowish-brown rat took a long whiff before sighing with a wide smile.

"Well then, keep going!"

The stag grumbled. He was tempted to plug his nose with one hand and use the other to rub, but he knew Taylor would object to it. So he grimaced as he wrapped his hands around each footpaw, feeling the musky sweat oozing all over his hands. The warmth coming from Taylor's footpaws only grossed out Prongy more; it was like he could see a faint haze above Taylor's toes, signaling how awful the smell was. Prongy started to squeeze the footpaws again, feeling around the rough soles and applying pressure on the bones. He moved his hands up and noticed the toes were smoother, albeit the claws were pointy. The toes were also sweatier and felt nastier, like the stag was moving his hands through slime. Prongy exhaled and moved his hands back down, focusing on the balls of the footpaws and the soles. Taylor relaxed himself and closed his eyes, enjoying the stag's soft hands moving along his stinky footpaws. He smelled the air again, letting the comforting stench of his body and footpaws lead him into a blissful, slothful paradise. Taylor was almost tempted to break his promise and keep Prongy here just because he gave such wonderful foot rubs and backrubs. But he knew that sooner or later, the stag would have to leave.

Prongy still wasn't used to the odor. The smell was making him dizzy now, to the point where his vision was becoming blurry. And then Taylor antagonized the situation altogether when his rump came back to life. Prongy heard a low, muffled sound coming from the rat's chair, which was followed by the beast laughing.

"Oops! Sorry, Prongy; my ass is still awake! Hehe, let's see if you can get through one of my bombings without passing out!"

Prongy's eyes grew wide when he saw the large grin on Taylor's face. "Oh no..."

Taylor showed no mercy. He leaned towards his left and blew a noisy fart out of his rear end, the sound still muffled as the gas was blasted into the couch cushion. But it did nothing to block out the odor, which quickly filled the room and headed towards Prongy's nose. He couldn't keep rubbing; it was too much for him. The stag plugged his nose, while Taylor laughed and leaned over even further. Another boisterous outburst filled the air, the flatulence sounding like a motorboat's engine trying to start. The gas sputtered for a few seconds before Taylor gritted his teeth. The sputtering abruptly turned into a long squeak, ending with a tiny puff. The rat exhaled and wafted the smell towards Prongy, who was still gagging slightly. Taylor took his footpaws off the table, giving the stag's nose some mercy. But that only lasted for a brief moment, as the rat got up from his chair and promptly walked over towards the table. He turned around and sat down on it, scooting backwards so his fat tail and ass were inches from Prongy's nose.

"While I'm at it, I may as well show you a few new farting positions I've been working on! What d'you think about the Table Crackler?"

There was no need for Taylor to explain what that was. The heavyset rat leaned over again, his ass pressed against the wooden table. He passed some more gas, the flatulence crackling out of his tailhole very noisily. Since he was sitting on the table, the sound was amplified to the point of deafening Prongy. Taylor sighed as he wiggled his butt around on the table and cut another, much longer fart. The vicious flatulence echoed throughout the room, sputtering incessantly and drowning out the sound of the flames as they crackled within the fireplace. Taylor wasn't sure how badly the gas emissions stank, in large part because the room was already flooded with the rodent's flatulence. But when Taylor got off the table, Prongy noticed that another wave of warm flatus hit him with full force. The rat walked over to the pronghorn and gestured for him to face him.

"Hehe, how 'bout this one? Tail Tucked 'Tween My Ass!"

The pronghorn plugged his nose as he observed the rat turn around, showing off his fat butt clad in the jean shorts. He reached behind his pudge and grabbed his long, thick tail. Then he grunted as he curled it downwards in-between his legs, making sure the thickest portion of the tail was wedged in-between his buttocks. Taylor grunted twice after feeling his stomach gurgling, and then exhaled. But Prongy didn't hear anything. The rodent gritted his teeth and grunted some more, his tail shaking as part of it stayed wedged in-between the buttocks. Prongy curiously stared at the tail, moments before Taylor grinned and quickly lifted his tail high. The second the tail was removed from the buttocks, Taylor's ass bulged outwards, and the pronghorn was forced to endure a violent fart that blasted him in the face. He turned his head away as the heated fart got into his nostrils, eyes, mouth even. Taylor was farting with all his might, the squishy, tuba-sounding fart filling both mammals' ears as the noise bounced off the walls. After several seconds, the fart became lower and sounded less wet, but the stench it gave off was bitter and nauseating. Prongy started to cough, finally understanding why the rodent was farting so much.

Taylor had already passed gas when he stuffed part of his tail in-between his buttocks. But the tail acted like a cork, sealing all the fetid fumes inside until he removed it. Without the blockage, there was nothing to stop the rodent from passing gas for a full thirty seconds. Once Taylor's gas finally let up, the rat exhaled and started to laugh hysterically, proud that he produced so much noise and gas with just one fart.

"Should probably get around to setting up a window in here! WHOO!"

Prongy couldn't comment. He was coughing so violently that his eyes were tearing up and becoming red. Taylor turned back around and smiled as he looked down at the stag, waiting for his commentary.

"Aww, nothing to say yet?"

Taylor rubbed his chin and snapped his fingers. "Just remembered another one! I got it from a wrestler I saw on TV once. I call it the Gut Buster!"

Taylor spared the pronghorn's nose by facing him and pointing his ass in the other direction. The coughing stag looked up at the rodent's plump hairy belly and watched as he rubbed the pudge. It gurgled a few times, at which point Taylor made two fists. He hesitated at first, looking like he had only done this once or twice. Then he grunted as he slammed his fists down on his stomach as hard as possible, creating a faint THWACK sound and making his big belly jiggle. After it jiggled, Taylor groaned and gritted his teeth. His stomach started to bubble audibly, groaning and growling as it moved a little. The rat couldn't control himself. Panting, he bent over and placed his paws on his knees. Then he released a putrid fart that was so squishy it sounded like he was stepping on rotten tomatoes. Taylor was still gritting his teeth as he passed gas, his boxers becoming extremely moist. The gas emission lasted no more than five seconds, but where it lacked in length, it made up for in odor. Prongy's eyes grew wide, and he covered his mouth and almost puked on the floor as the funky stench of rat shit crept into his lungs. Taylor panted a few times after farting and stood straight up, waving a paw behind his fat ass. He could smell it too, the wretched odor of burning fecal matter slowly polluting the room even further. Taylor stuck a paw inside his boxers and felt around his ass. Then he exhaled and removed said paw, which was surprisingly scat-free.

"False alarm. Goddamn, that was a nasty one! You got luck today, Prongy! Last time I did the Gut Buster, I shat myself so badly I had to burn my underwear afterwards!"

"No...no more..." Prongy whined, his head lowered with spit running down his mouth.

"What's that?"

"Can...can you release me...please?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, in a few minutes. I'll show you one more and then I'll be done! Last one's the Ten Second Fuse. Shouldn't be too deadly for you."

Prongy exhaled and shook his head. He plugged his nose again as the rat turned back around, showing off his big ass to the pronghorn. Taylor bent over, raised his tail, and farted. Much to Prongy's surprise, it was a tiny fart that lasted no longer than a second. The stag didn't even notice a new stench or feel any heat on his face. The rat let out a second fart, but it was of the same caliber. Prongy blinked and slowly unplugged his nose. Taylor let out three more farts. Still, just a tiny, squeaky sound, with no strength or smell to back it up. Prongy relaxed. Taylor must've farted so much that he was all out of gas. Another four farts came out. Still nothing. Prongy almost smiled. Taylor was right after all. None of the farts were deadly whatsoever. He could've planted his nose right against the rat's tailhole and would've barely smelled the gas. And yet, the rodent still had his tail in the air. He was still bent over. Prongy still didn't hear anything besides the fire crackling and Taylor breathing heavily. Prongy raised an eyebrow in confusion. Moments later, Taylor grabbed his shorts and boxers and pulled them down, exposing his bare ass.

Prongy was almost knocked backwards at the anal explosion Taylor subjected him to. It wasn't very long, but it was loud and potent, carrying enough force behind it to blast powder and small insects several feet away. It sounded like a sputtering grenade went off in the stag's ears, or a bomb even--which would explain the name. As Taylor finished farting, he sighed heavily and a loud hiss filled the furs' ears. Prongy coughed again and retched as he smelled something burning. He could hear smoke rising into the air like steam. His nose was clouded with the odor of Taylor's burning ass, which gave off a bitter and musky, but also malodorous scent. As Prongy looked at Taylor's ass through his teary eyes, he could see that the rat's tailhole was still bulging outwards. And as the pronghorn's ears twitched, he realized that the invisible "smoke" was coming from Taylor's ass. The hissing stopped after a few seconds, and the tailhole closed and disappeared in the crevice that separated Taylor's buttocks. The rat laughed as he turned around and looked at the stag.

"Fooled you, didn't I?"

Prongy couldn't take this anymore. The farts, the rat's smelly footpaws, his nasty body odor--it was all too much for him. The coughing stag slowly got to his feet and looked up at the nasty rodent.

"I...I did ever-everything you asked. Why the fuck haven't you let me go yet?!"

Taylor wagged his tail. "Remember what I said: you gotta do all the tasks. And there's still one more thing I need you to do. I saved the best for last!"

Prongy looked down at Taylor's groin. His shaft was semi-erect and leaking a little precum, the fat member throbbing a few times. The pronghorn started to shake and backed away.

"No...I-I can't...I'm not gonna do it."

Taylor blinked. "You'd rather stay here for an entire month than rim me?"

"I know you want...wait, what?"

Taylor laughed and grinned mischievously. He turned around and bent over a little, exposing his fat butt to the stag. As Taylor lifted his tail, he let out another short fart before reaching backwards and scratching his hairy left buttock. Prongy scowled and turned away, feeling like he could smell the dirty ass from where he stood.

"I want you to rim me. Make my tailhole nice and clean. And you don't stop until I say so, understand?"

"Um..." Prongy swallowed. "Do-do I have to? Isn't...can't I do something else?"

Taylor chuckled. "The other option involves you sitting on my fat cock and riding me until I fill that plump ass of yours up with my seed. You just said you're not gonna do that, so..."

Taylor smacked his right ass cheek.

"Start lickin'!"

Prongy didn't know whether to be relieved or disgusted. On one hand, he didn't have to worry about being sodomized. But on the other, now he had to stick his tongue up this rat's tailhole, and something told the pronghorn that the hole was foul-smelling, sweaty, and probably had brown patches of shit on it from not wiping his ass.

"Oh, don't worry, Prongy! I can wait. But uh...you're better off doing this sooner than later. I feel another bombing coming on, and after what happened earlier, I can't guarantee that this one won't end with me squirting shit all over the place. But hey, up to you! Some of the inmates like it when I take a dump in their mouth while they rim me."

Prongy swallowed the bile coming up his throat and exhaled. "Okay, I'll do it now then."

There was no other option the pronghorn could think of. He walked over to the naked rat and got back down on his knees again, his head inches away from Taylor's smelly behind.

"And since you're down there, I may as well go ahead and tell you that I may end up farting in your mouth."

Fuck, thought Prongy. He shut his eyes and exhaled for a moment. But this was the only option. He knew he had to get it over with now and be done with it. So Prongy reached up and grabbed the rodent's buttocks, spreading them apart and revealing the tailhole. He scrunched up his face again, noticing some of the flakes of shit he predicted would be there, along with the absurd amount of anal sweat. Prongy took a few deep breaths and shut his eyes. He opened them back up seconds later, moments before leaning forward with his mouth open. The pronghorn stuck out his tongue, gagging as the warmth coming from the fat ass crept into his maw like acrid smoke. He dabbed the beast's tailhole before gagging again. Then he moved his tongue down very slowly, still panting as the unbearable taste got into his mouth. Taylor moaned and wiggled his ass, feeling his cock throbbing again. He reached down and started to rub his groin, cupping his balls in his paw. Prongy took a few breaths before he licked the rat's ass crack from the base of his tail all the way down to his taint. Prongy had to retch and turn his head away as he tasted some of the rat's dried-up shit.

"Keep going," Taylor growled.

Prongy huffed. The sooner I finish, the better, he told himself. So the stag grimaced and quickly jammed his tongue back into the stinky crevice, forcing himself to swirl his tongue along the rat's tailhole. Prongy whined and gagged, scrubbing off the beast's dirty hole and treating his tongue like a sponge. Taylor moaned again quietly, licking his lips as the pronghorn got his tailhole wet. He wrapped his left paw around his dick, squeezing the shaft as the precum emerged. Prongy shut his eyes and started to lick up and down the ass crack again, the musky smell of the rat's butt scent becoming harder to tolerate. Then Taylor passed gas, ripping a soft but putrid fart right against Prongy's mouth. He couldn't take it. The stag had to stop so he could turn away and cough, gagging and wiping his tongue off with his arm. Taylor giggled and wiggled his chunky ass cheeks, waiting for Prongy to continue. I'm almost there, he said. Just a couple more minutes of this foul rat's stench, and then I'll be free. Prongy grabbed the buttocks and spread them apart again. This time he struck fast, jamming his entire muzzle into Taylor's smelly rump and sticking out his tongue.

Taylor's dick lengthened. He moaned louder and licked his lips again as he felt the pronghorn licking his tailhole, snorting even. Prongy paused for a moment when some sweat went up his nose, but he knew he could pull through. He snorted again, moving the tongue left and right this time, caressing part of the buttocks. Taylor shuddered and felt his spine tingling. He started to rub his shaft, the foreskin moving back and forth as well. As the rat began to pant, Prongy took his muzzle away so he could get a breath of fresh air. Of course, the air was tainted with Taylor's stinky footpaws, socks, and farts, but it was better than the smell brewing between his buttocks. Prongy inhaled sharply and stuck his muzzle inside again. This time he opened his mouth, nibbling on the sensitive hole and making Taylor yelp. The rat squeezed his dick hard, watching as a long strand of precum descended from his cock onto the carpet. He spread his legs, farted again, and panted as he began to rub himself faster. Prongy could hear him, his dick making a subtle squishing noise as the foreskin was rubbed.

Taylor huffed and shuddered again, grunting as he pushed and allowed his tailhole to bulge outwards. It opened slightly, as though it were greeting Prongy, inviting him to come inside. The pronghorn grimaced, but he knew what had to be done. He licked the tailhole again, and then stuffed it inside the rodent's hole, penetrating it. Taylor shouted and moaned vocally, his entire body shaking as more pre descended from his shaft. Panting and growling, the rat could feel Prongy as he rolled his slippery tongue around within his rectum. He paused and retched twice, tasting more ass sweat and shit, but eventually pulled himself together and continued. Taylor was rubbing his shaft quickly, biting his lip, curling his toes and digging the claws into the carpet. He released more pre, which got onto his left paw. He smeared it all around his fingers and paw before using it at lube. The squishing sound was much noisier now, sloppier. Prongy swirled his tongue around, sticking his whole muzzle within the funky ass crack. He was so close now; he could tell Taylor was going to cum soon. Just a little more, he told himself. Just a bit more...

Taylor snarled, feeling a euphoric burst of energy surge up his spine. He arched his back, inhaling sharply as the semen rushed towards his urethra. He slowed down, stopped rubbing himself so quickly. It was about to come out. Taylor opened his mouth and let out a strange, lustful growling sound. And then Taylor felt slippery, sticky fluids dribbling out of his shaft. He stopped rubbing. He held it back in, panting and whimpering, letting the white fluids seep into his foreskin. Some of it began to drip onto the floor, leaving tiny drops on the carpet. Some of it got all over the rat's fingers. Shaking, Taylor growled again as he tugged his member one last time. He finally blew, shooting thick streams of rat spooge all over the floor, the semen splattering with much noise. Prongy immediately removed his muzzle as he heard the chubby rat cum. He let out a little gas as he ejaculated, but even Prongy didn't seem to notice due to the various odors already inside the room. Taylor stopped shaking and began to breathe heavily, moaning as he left a huge puddle of semen all over the floor. Several drops of it had splattered in different directions, and the milky substance was so wet that it was already oozing around the carpet and being absorbed into the floor covering.

Then the rat settled down. His semen stopped soaring from his shaft and dripped onto the floor slowly. Taylor stopped moaning and took soft breaths, looking down at his throbbing member as it started to become flaccid. Whatever semen was left either got into his foreskin or dripped down in-between his smelly footpaws. Taylor turned around slowly as he looked down at the naked pronghorn wiping his tongue off on his arm again.

"Rrrr...you're good, Prongy...even stuck the tongue inside..."

Prongy didn't say anything. He just stood up slowly and scratched behind his head. Taylor gradually put his boxers and shorts back on, feeling very relieved now that most of his gas was gone and his cock had been drained.

"Is...is that it?" the stag begged. "Are you gonna let me go now?"

Taylor saw no point in keeping the pronghorn any longer. He smiled at the stag and nodded.

"Absolutely. You see? That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

No, but it sure as hell was rank, Prongy said in his mind. The pronghorn watched as the rat walked over to his desk and unlocked one of the drawers. After he did, he pulled it open, reached inside, and pulled out a set of keys. The rodent slammed the drawer shut as he started to walk towards the door.

"Come on then. Let me show you where the exit is."

---

He couldn't believe it. This was really happening. It wasn't a trick. It wasn't some sick game. Taylor was standing in front of the door, unlocking it as the stag wagged his tail. Prongy heard the door unlocking, shortly before it creaked loudly as Taylor opened the door and revealed the outside world. Prongy thought he would've flinched at the sudden burst of sunlight, but there was none. The sun was already down; it was in the evening now. Lucky for Prongy, it wasn't pitch black outside, so he could still see. Taylor stood beside the door before gesturing for the stag to head outside.

"Go on then! You're free to leave!"

Prongy didn't bother saying anything back. He sprinted out the door, happy to finally be out of the prison and away from the smelly rat and his bodily odors. The pronghorn noticed the prison was built on some kind of hill; the moment he stepped outside, he found himself stuck in the woods and running down an incline. He told himself to stop, told himself to slow down so he wouldn't trip and break his neck. But he couldn't help it. He wanted to get as far away as possible. The stag laughed as he panted, not caring that he was naked, not caring that he just stuck his tongue up a fur's ass and tasted his crusty shit. He was free. The stag began to slow down, his plump belly getting the best of him. He took a small break from running, stopping beside a tree so he could catch his breath. Prongy shut his eyes and exhaled harshly, still enjoying his freedom. But as he remained by the tree, he started to ponder. And then he saw a brief image of that stag who was trapped in his cell being sodomized. He saw those otters clawing for freedom. And he remembered the coyote who was probably driven mad from cannibalism desperately trying to eat him.

He was starting to wonder if this was a test, a long, cruel exercise to see what kind of fur Prongy really was. Sure, he could run away, relish his freedom. But hundreds, possibly thousands of others were still stuck there, with no hope of leaving. The stag glanced back up the hill and frowned. He couldn't go back home. Not yet. He needed to find the cops. He needed to tell them everything he knew about this place, about the sadistic guard named Bartlet, about the prison being run by Taylor Havvik. Those furs and scaleys needed to be rescued, and the whole prison needed to be demolished. He knew what he needed to do. So Prongy turned his head back around and started to walk forward. He shouted as he tripped over his feet and fell down in the grass and leaves hard. The stag grunted as he tried to get up, but he couldn't. He panted and started to feel tired and weak. The pronghorn rolled over onto his back and winced in pain. He took a few more deep breaths and slowly tilted his head forward, gritting his teeth. What the hell did I trip on? Prongy asked himself. But as Prongy looked at his abdomen, he realized he didn't trip or fall on anything.

Someone shot him. A bullet hole had appeared in his gut, and now he was bleeding profusely. Prongy whimpered and tried to get up again. He was too weak. He opened his mouth to call for help, only to cough up blood. The stag started to breathe heavily, whining as tears formed in his eyes. He grasped his stomach and slid himself backwards only a few inches before collapsing. There wasn't anything the stag could do but whine as he looked up at the tree branches and the dark sky. A few minutes went by, and Prongy was having trouble staying awake. Any longer like this and he'd die from exsanguination. And then the pronghorn heard a few footsteps in the distance growing louder as someone approached him. He almost started to smile, until he noticed the putrid odor of an unclean rat.

"Heeeeeeeeey, Prongy! Enjoying your freedom?"

The stag whimpered as a large shadow towered over him. He slowly lifted his head and saw Taylor walking towards him, smiling and carrying a sniper rifle in his paws. The rat stood beside Prongy's head and crouched down, lowering his sniper rifle.

"Oh dear, seems like you had a little accident. You feeling all right?"

"H...hel..."

Taylor inhaled sharply and scratched behind his head. "Well, I don't have a med kit with me, and this area isn't great when it comes to using cell phones, so you're out of luck. Sorry!"

"Yo...you said you'd let me...you'd free me..."

"And I did free you! I said I'd let you go, and I did!"

Taylor took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "Isn't it great, Prongy? To be out here, smelling this clean, fresh air?"

Prongy stared up at the rat with teary eyes, longing to shove his jagged horns into his eye sockets. But he was so weak he couldn't lift his head anymore. The pronghorn coughed up some more blood before sniffling and struggling to breathe. The rat looked down at the stag's bullet wound and inhaled sharply.

"Oh, right, got that bullet in your gut. Now isn't that a crying shame, for someone to shoot you like that when you're so close to getting home."

Taylor slowly shook his head and frowned. "It really does pain me to see you suffer like this. I'm sorry to have to do this, but..."

Prongy whimpered when he saw Taylor remove a knife from his shorts. Then he looked down at the wounded pronghorn with a nasty, evil grin on his face.

"I'm gonna have to put you outta your misery."

Taylor didn't hesitate. He planted the blade deep into Prongy's throat. The pronghorn gagged and coughed again, the blood gushing out of his neck and mouth. He grunted and tried to do something, anything to get away from the rodent. He even mustered enough strength to lift his right hand. But in the end, it was pointless. The pronghorn whined a couple of times as his vision faded, the last image he saw being Taylor's malevolent grin. After the pronghorn shut his eyes and stopped moving, Taylor removed the blade and exhaled. He stared down at the stag's body before wiping the blood off his knife using Prongy's corpse. The rat stuffed the knife back into his pocket, and then grunted as he picked up Prongy's body and hauled it over his right shoulder. Then Taylor smiled as he started to walk through the woods, listening to the wind blowing and some of the insects buzzing.

---

Taylor arrived at an abandoned, dried-up well not far from the prison several minutes later. He walked up to it, preparing to dump the pronghorn's body inside. The rat grunted as he placed the stag against the border of the well and turned his body around so he could see his chubby ass cheeks again. The rat stared at the snow-colored buttocks, grinning slowly. He reached forward and grasped them with one paw, growling as he moved his paw along the smooth, muscular cheeks. Then he moved his paw around the taint, snickering as he groped the testicles and sheath. He stuck his left paw into his shorts and rubbed himself a few times, admiring Prongy's buttocks a bit more than usual. The rat blinked and smacked the stag's ass before removing his left paw and shaking his head.

"Shame."

After that, Taylor grunted as he shoved Prongy's body into the well. It fell for several seconds, disappearing into the darkness. When it reached the bottom, Taylor didn't hear a thunk or splash. Rather, he heard a squelchy thud. But Taylor was used to the noise by now, since Prongy's body just fell on top of two dozen or so corpses of the furs and scaleys Taylor had "freed" in the past. After staring down into the well, Taylor blinked and began to walk away from the pit full of bodies. And then he started to whistle nonchalantly to himself, thinking about all the other prisoners he'd have fun with when he returned.