{"sf1_id":null,"sf2_id":"nLrRb9Ze","title":"Claimed: Another Wolf's Poison","author":"Muskwalker","words":2563,"posted_at":"2026-04-19T13:43:23.000Z","tags":["Abduction","Billionaire","Buried penis","Chubby","Clone","Clonecest","Cockcave","Cum","Fupa fucking","Handcuffs","M/M","Male/Male","NC","Property","Rape","Replicant","Spreader bar","Wolf"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/nLrRb9Ze-claimed-another-wolf-s-poison","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/nLrRb9Ze","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/3e/b0/3eb0d175-a112-4154-8d64-9e6ee3dfd681","description":"Quintus was just trying to go about his day, but it turns out he was never legally his own person.","content":"I was up early as usual to catch the 75 bus into town. It was dark even for the hour, rainy and overcast.\n\nThe bus stop offered shelter at least; a little blue structure whose graffitied walls were spangled with random band logo stickers. I seated myself wearily, thankful for the rest. I’d been so worn out lately, extra hours and stress at work leaving me with little energy to do more than doomscroll over delivery dinner at home—and the oppressive humid heat of late summer was not making it any easier.\n\nThis time of day, this far out of town, the buses are an hour apart and often far from their schedule, so if I’m not early I might miss it, but usually I have to wait. Today was a waiting day.\n\nThis time of day, this far out of town, it’s usually just me at this stop. Today there came a stranger.\n\nHe was a tall, tawny wolf in a gray rain poncho with the hood up, looming over the bus shelter like a specter. Unlike a specter, though, this guy was solid, built _solid_—not bodybuilder-bulky, but like the kind of guy that my-dad-could-beat-up-your-dad boasts are about.\n\nYeah, he was hot, but I wasn’t going to stare or anything.\n\nHe was staring at me, though.\n\nI was a considerably more…marshmallowy example of the species, sure, but nothing for the record books; I might usually be the fattest person in the room these days but I wouldn’t be the fattest person you’d see all day or anything. And I wouldn’t say there was much else visually distinctive about me.\n\nI couldn’t tell why he would be staring at me the way he was—I couldn’t read his expression. It didn’t look like malice or contempt or (hah) lust…\n\n“You’re Quintus,” he said, like I was someone he’d been looking for. Oh. The expression had been ‘scrutiny’.\n\nI wasn’t about to confirm his guess. Luckily the bus was arriving so I stood up and walked to the curb, giving the wolf an I-don’t-know-what-you-mean sort of look as I passed by him.\n\nOf course, he boarded right after me.\n\nOf course, he took a seat right behind mine.\n\nNow I was nervous.\n\n_I should say something to the bus driver,_ I thought. _Get up and sit closer to the front, for protection._\n\nI braced for the guy to say or do anything creepy, but he seemed to be keeping to himself, which was almost worse.\n\nMore people boarded the bus as it progressed into the city. As benches filled, someone took the seat next to mine. I tensed at first, but it was only a cheetah I recognized from previous commutes.\n\nI felt safer as the bus got more crowded. Surely the guy wouldn’t try anything in front of so many witnesses.\n\nOf course, I’d have to disembark soon. And, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for him to know where I usually get off. So the next time someone pulled a stop, I squeezed through the crowd and escaped to the street.\n\nThe wolf didn’t try to follow.\n\n_Well, fuck,_ I thought. _There’s no way he just let me go, so that just means he knows where I’m going already. And he’ll get there first and he’ll ambush me at work and…_\n\nI tried to quell my anxiety as I hopped on the next bus, but the ride was uneventful, so there was nothing to distract me from imagining what worst-case scenarios were in store for me.\n\nNothing continued to happen as I got off at Quinault Plaza. Nothing but the everyday crowds as I walked the last block and a half to the white painted-brick building between “Bagels, Baby!” and a Starbucks, where I got paid mostly to keep a chair warm unless someone’s computer decided to break down.\n\nI didn’t make it, of course. I was pulled into an alley and silenced before I could cry out, a big feline paw covering my muzzle. Not the wolf—I hadn’t even _considered_ he would have an accomplice. The two of them handcuffed my paws behind my back and marched me into a van behind the building.\n\nNo one walking by the alleymouth took any notice of my struggle.\n\nThey didn’t blindfold me; the back of the van had no view to the outside in any case, and the tiger who had grabbed me kept a sullen eye on me as we rode on.\n\nThey weren’t waving weapons at me, at least. Either they wanted me intact or they knew I had all the martial prowess of a pet rock.\n\nAfter a few abortive attempts to get any information out of the tiger, I gave up and leaned back in my seat, letting the stop-and-go traffic lull me to sleep.\n\n* * *\n\nThe tiger shook me awake. The van had arrived in an underground parking garage, but something seemed off about it. We walked past several rows of glittering cars before I noticed that they _were_ glittering, all polished to shine, and even without being a Car Guy I could tell everything was expensive.\n\nAnd the ‘off’ thing about the garage was that it was the same way. This was no public space—someone _owned_ all these cars. Someone who liked showing off that they could keep concrete spotless. Someone who hired these goons.\n\nSo what did they want with me?\n\n* * *\n\nAn elevator. A hallway. A bedroom, well appointed but with no trace of personality—a guest room, then.\n\nThe wolf took a seat in a corner, arms crossed. The tiger left, presumably to fetch the head honcho.\n\nThe goons had said nothing to each other; the wolf just gestured disinterestedly when I tried to ask him for anything. Fine, whatever.\n\nI sat on the bed. Wolf goon pulled out his phone and started playing some mobile game. Still being cuffed, I couldn’t join him.\n\nAfter three tinny level-clear fanfares had sounded across the room, the door opened again, letting in…\n\nWell, he was also a wolf, but that wasn’t the striking thing. It was the _family resemblance_ that got me. He could’ve been my older, slenderer brother.\n\nHe strode up to me with the confidence of someone who could easily own any ground he walked on and immediately laid his paws on my soft chest, stroking over my moobs experimentally. “Exquisite!”\n\n“Um, excuse me?” I said.\n\n“Oh, you’re the first one who’s turned out fat like this! I love it!”\n\nI squirmed a bit, trying to get out of his grip, but his paws moved down to stroke the sides of my belly.\n\n“The ‘first one’?” I said. “The first what?”\n\n“Oh, you’re one of my clones,” he said, though his attention didn’t stray from my gut. “Fully my property, fully my pleasure. Fascinating to see the ways one could have turned out, isn’t it?”\n\nHe tried to lift my shirt, but here I really pushed back, trying to roll off the bed and push him away with my feet.\n\nThe goon was there in an instant, grabbing my legs and forcing them down. He was exactly as strong as he looked—I wasn’t going anywhere.\n\n“I’m not your toy, dude,” I said.\n\n“That’s exactly what you are. Custom-built for the purpose.” He reached under the bed and pulled out a long bar, handing it off to the goon.\n\n“All I’ve got is your word on that,” I said, still fruitlessly trying to break free.\n\nThey clearly didn’t care whether I was convinced. The goon fastened my ankles to either end of the bar, spreading them apart, and went back to his game.\n\nMy captor returned his attentions to my belly now that I was incapable of any resistance beside weak wriggling. He tore into my shirt with his claws and exposed the fur beneath.\n\n“Oh, I can’t get _enough_ of this!”\n\nIn any other circumstance I would have taken this as flattery, but now that I knew this was classical narcissism, I didn’t quite feel I could take it personally. He thought he was complimenting _himself_.\n\nHis fingers probed the depth of my navel, his hands slid under the overhang of my belly, he gave it an experimental lift. “So _deliciously_ soft! And speaking of delicious…”\n\nHe began to undo my pants.\n\n_This can’t be happening,_ I thought. _People don’t just get pulled off the street by rich pervs who claim to own them. At least, not_ literally.\n\nResistance left me. Not complacency; I wasn’t _okay_ with this. But bound hand and foot, deep in the bowels of the mansion of someone who surely had the money to disappear me outright even if his clone claim weren’t true, honestly what could I _even_ do?\n\nMy crotch was exposed to the air now, my captor marvelling at the softness of the fatpad that had engulfed my sheath and balls.\n\n“Fascinating to see what you’ve done with your copy of my cock,” he said, leaning in and sniffing deep. “Oh yes…that is definitely my musk…”\n\nI flinched as his tongue slithered in to seek my buried member. I was soft, of course, so it was in there deep; given the circumstances, there was no way it was coming out to play.\n\nHe persisted though, pushing the fat back to find that buried cockhead when his tongue could only just reach the tip.\n\n“Truly amazing… I must— I simply have to—” He pulled his pants down with one hand, the other lewdly fingering my cockcave.\n\nI withdrew further into my head. _This isn’t about me,_ I thought.\n\nMy captor’s dick was already throbbing hard as he kicked off his pants. Did it really look like mine? Whatever.\n\n_I might as well not even be here._\n\nHis mouth was at my crotch again, tongue exploring me more wetly this time, soaking the depth of my fatpad with spit.\n\n_I’m just a_ body _to him._\n\nHe straddled me, hungry eyes looking down into mine as his tip ground against me, lining up between my legs. I shut my eyes.\n\n_I’m not here._\n\nHis cock sank into my fatpad, his tail thumping as he wagged hard.\n\n_He hasn’t even thought me worth telling his name._\n\nAs he started thrusting into me, my ears rebelled from listening to his delighted yips and pants and latched on to the only other sound in the room: the beep and chime of goon wolf’s game still being played in the corner of the room.\n\nIt was hardly any better; the bright chirps of progress too easily coincided with _his_ dick bottoming out inside me, making it feel like I was the game being played, and my captor was going for a high score.\n\nThe slime of his flowing precum leaked out of my cockcave, mixed with the saliva from him eating me out, and I winced as it dripped down my balls.\n\nI couldn’t escape the feel of him. I couldn’t escape the smell of him.\n\nAt least he was too excited to hold out for long. His breath got more ragged and his pounding harder, his knot slamming against my fatpad with every thrust before finally he froze up, cock throbbing inside me and firing his load against my buried head.\n\nAnd he collapsed onto my chest, gripping me like I was just some body pillow. _That’s what he made, isn’t it. An overstuffed pillow with his face on it._\n\n* * *\n\nThe goon took charge of me when my captor left to clean himself up and get back to his life. He released me from the spreader bar and marched me down to a smaller, more spartan sort of guest room: no bones about it, this would be my prison cell. It didn’t look _institutional_—the house had more taste than that—but someone with an eye for the creature comforts had done their best to make none of them available.\n\n“Welcome home,” the goon began.\n\nI didn’t catch where he was going with that, because as soon as I heard the sound of a voice that wasn’t _his_, I broke down immediately.\n\nHe watched me, leaning in the doorway, and watched me cry like an ugly baby for who knows how long.\n\nBut he didn’t stop me. He didn’t leave me to my misery. He just watched, and waited.\n\n“I can’t be this,” I said, as soon as I thought I could speak coherently. “How can anyone do this? How many of us did he make?”\n\nThe wolf goon came and sat on the bed beside me. This was probably not the best move; I was trembling, I was jumpy, and I really, really could do with some alone time, if only to clean _his_ drying cum out of my crotch.\n\nBut there was pity on his brutish face, and I had no pride left to refuse it. He put an arm around me and pulled me close to him, and I was just about ready to break down again when he started murmuring in my ear: “I’m going to leave this door unlocked. Count to 100 after I leave, and go back to the elevators. If they’re still running, it’ll be safe to meet me on floor B5. You won’t be the first who needed to run away.”\n\nHe left, and I started the most agonized counting session of my life.\n\n_1, 2, 3…_\n\nCould I trust him? Or was this some kind of entrapment? If I really was property now, he’d be risking a lot of trouble if he let me escape…and if he’d helped multiple others, as he’d suggested, the risks to him only went up.\n\n_24, 25, 26…_\n\nIf it was a lie, what would they do to me? Disappearing me from the street had been nothing to them; _he_ already thought of me as property, and he surely had the means to do anything he wanted with me.\n\nBut he was going to do whatever he wanted with me anyway.\n\n_51, 52, 53…_\n\nI’d only seen his good side, that bubbly excitement in the face of a new toy. What would he be like when he got mad?\n\nFuck, everything he’d inflicted on me so far _was his good side._\n\nMy heart was pounding. Stay or run, either way would not be safe for me.\n\nBut if I ran, where would I go?\n\n_80, 81, 82…_\n\nI couldn’t go home. They knew where I lived, and as a clone, they’d have every right to take me from there again; ‘my’ place would be _his_ place, after all.\n\nI’d have to leave the country. Or go off the grid. Find a way to live incognito.\n\nGive up everything I was, or give myself to _him._\n\nI reached 100.\n\nI went out the door.\n\n* * *\n\nOn floor B5, the elevator door opened on a room with an enormous swimming pool, glass walls showing forested hillside outside.\n\nWolf goon waved me over from by one of the doors to the outside. “Go straight ahead through here. Stay under tree cover till the house is out of sight. And take this,” he said, handing me a handful of bills.\n\nI was too overwhelmed to have a coherent emotional response. He saw me faltering and led me through the door with one big paw on my shoulder. “You’ll be all right. Live well, dude.”\n\nI started running."}