FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Driving through the countryside always filled Remy with a sense of peace, regardless of what mood he was in. The road meandered through rolling hills and winding valleys in a way that made the coyote feel like he was on a ship on gentle waters. It was golden hour. Fields of wheat and alfalfa were tipped by waning sunlight. As Remy laid his head against the headrest in contentment, his lupine passenger groaned and leaned forward.

“Do you want another Tum?" Remy asked.

“No, I've already had like five. Besides, we should be there soon, right?"

They were indeed almost there. It had been a long, mostly silent drive, beside Remy's in my feels 2022 playlist, which he still hadn't gotten around to updating. Most of the drive had been spent staring at the road ahead, thinking about the Craigslist ad.

FULL SERVICE FARMHAND WANTED

food, board, and allowance in exchange

5449 NE Dover Drive

Neither canine knew what “FULL SERVICE" meant, but room and board were exactly what the pair needed, and options in the city had been exhausted. The only catch was the lack of any contact information besides an address. No phone number, no email, not even any names. With nothing to lose, they decided to just drive out and hope for the best.

Soon enough, they passed a sheet of plywood nailed to a wooden fence with the same words painted in white: “ FULL SERVICE FARMHAND WANTED". A quarter mile after that, a gravel driveway.

Remy eased the beaten-down Chevy truck onto the driveway, which quickly turned into a bumpy dirt road. Dust puffed up in clouds behind him, and the wipers fought a losing battle against the accumulating grime. They pulled up to a weathered farmhouse. It looked just as beat up as the Chevy. If not for the well tended hedges around the front porch and warm light glowing in the windows, Remy might have thought the place was abandoned.

The truck coughed to a stop and the boy got out. Remy stretched his still arms while Matt hunched over and let his stomach settle.

“What do we do if they're not hiring anymore?" the wolf asked. “We'd have to drive back to town, and I don't want to stay there. You saw the way that guy at the gas station sneered at the pride sticker on the back of the truck."

“We'll figure it out, babe. We always do. There's gotta be a campsite or somewhere we can hang out for a night. Don't worry about that yet, let's just figure this out first."

The boys walked up to the house together. It was much calmer than the city out here, but far from quiet or still. Irrigation sprinklers clapped steadily in the surrounding fields, pierced through by the chirps and buzzes of crepuscular insects. A couple fields away, a large tractor worked hard at trimming down tall grass. The scent of fresh cut hay hung thick in the air. Remy figured it must've been the first harvest of the year.

They climbed the porch steps, carefully sidestepping holes in the cracked boards. Several rocking chairs sat askew near the windows. Remy imagined sitting in one on a cool evening, Matt beside him, warm cups of cocoa in their hands. Maybe that could be a reality. As if sensing Remy's thoughts, Matthew gave Remy's shoulder a short squeeze before knocking on the door. From inside, a dog barked. Matthew jumped.

“Coming!" a deep voice called from inside.

The door swung open to reveal a dark towering bull and the scent of rich meaty stew that wafted out behind him. A large mastiff paced at his heels, trying to sniff out the visitors. The dog eyed the boys with cautious interest. The bull looked the boys up and down as well. “What can I do for you two? Truck break down?" He asked, seeing their well-loved Chevy in the driveway.

Remy stepped forward, his hand reached out, with his friendliest grin. “Hey there! I'm Remy, and this is my friend Matthew." He gestured at the wolf, who forced a quick grin. Remy typically took the lead on social interactions, with no complaint from Matt. “We saw your 'Help Wanted' ad on Craigslist. We've been looking for some work, and we're hoping you're still hiring. Is now a good time?"

The bull's stern gaze relaxed into a half friendly smile. A gruff chuckle escaped his chest. “Well, dinner's a good a time as any." he stepped aside to let them in. “Name's Wayne. That mutt there is named Abe." he pointed at the dog, who shoved his nose into Remy's stomach and took an enthusiastic sniff. “He gets a little excited when he meets new people. Don't mind him. He'll settle down once he's decided he likes you."

The farmhouse's interior was surprisingly pleasant. Overstuffed armchairs filled the living room, and birch logs crackled and popped in the hearth. In the dining room, a long table sat with a pot of stew at its center and a neat stack of bowls beside it. One of the chairs on the long end of the table was already occupied by a large Dane.

“Welcome! I'm Sal," the Great Dane said brightly. “It's just us four for dinner tonight. Rhett's still out riding fences, and Jesse's got some after school thing going on. Let me grab you two some grub." He quickly filled a couple bowls with food, and a couple glasses with juice for Remy and Matthew. The heavy aroma of home cooked food made Remy's stomach growl.

“Take a seat," Wayne said, gesturing to a couple chairs sat opposite Sale. The chairs looked just as homemade as the meal in front of them. Remy's chair wobbled when he sat down. The table itself was scratched and a little rough, but at least it didn't wobble. Wayne took a seat at the head of the table. Wayne watched the boys as they began to dig in. After days on the road eating nothing but fast food, this meal was pure bliss. Remy tried to catch Matthew's eyes a couple times, but found his boyfriend either eyeing down a spoonful of stew, or sneaking glances at the Great Dane across the table.

Once everyone had chowed down the last morsel of meat and chugged the last sip of juice, Wayne leaned back and stretched. A tuft of dark fur peeked out from under his shirt.

“Alright, let's talk business," the bull leaned in the boy's direction. “I expect you to be available Monday through Saturday. Some weeks I'll only need you in the morning and evening. Others, I'll need you sunup to sundown. I reckon it'll even out to about thirty, thirty-five hours a week. Sundays are yours. Most of us visit church in the morning. You're welcome to join." the bull took a toothpick from his pocket and used it to clean his teeth while he talked. “In return, you get two meals a day, a bunk in the barn, and a little spending money. Not much, but enough to get by if you're smart about it." he scrutinized the boys for a moment, as if making a decision. “If you work hard and don't cause trouble, we'll get along just fine. Got it?"

Matthew leaned forward to meet the bull's stance. “Before we agree, I think we'd like to know what all 'Full Service' entails."

Wayne tilted his head slightly. “Either of you boys worked on a farm before?"

Remy shook his head. “I grew up in the suburbs. Never even saw a tractor til last year. Matthew lived on a farm for a few years when he was a kid, right Matthew?" he glanced at the wolf, who nodded as Remy continued earnestly. “We're quick learners though, and we aren't afraid to get our hands dirty."

A deep laugh erupted from the bull's chest. “We'll see. Don't worry about that 'Full Service' nonsense for now. You two look capable enough, and that's all I need. I'll give you some chores tomorrow morning. Most days, I want you on the front porch ready to work at 7 am sharp. But you can sleep in tomorrow. Seems like you had a long trip." With that, he stood and lumbered upstairs.

Sal took the sauce stained dishes back to the kitchen. The boys helped. “Don't mind him, he can be a little gruff, but he's solid through and through." The Great Dane asked the boys more questions as he washed the dishes by hand. Where did they come from? What are their ambitions? What did they do for fun? Did they believe in ghosts? Did they know that there were UFO sightings just an hour east of here back in the 50s? He likely would have kept going if Remy didn't interrupt him.

“So, what does 'Full Service' really mean?" Remy asked as nonchalantly as he could. “We're really happy to handle anything you throw at us." Matthew elbowed him, but the coyote knew that the wolf had to be just as curious as he was.

Sal paused, set the sponge down, and turned around, leaning back against the counter. His voice dropped to just above a whisper. His Great Dane jowls seemed even droopier than before. “Well, it just means being able to handle all the chores. No matter what they are. Some jobs need… a little more care. A little more personal touch."

“Ah, I see," Remy said. He didn't see. From Matthew's same uneasy look, the wolf didn't seem to get it either. He decided not to push the question any further for now.

Sal gave a small nod and led the other canines outside into the evening air. It had gotten dark while they were inside. Wavy dark hills lined the horizon. From east to west, the overturned bowl of the sky was pinpricked by flickering stars and the blue to indigo to violet swirling haze of the Milky Way. The barn stood tall and proud despite its obvious age. As they approached the side door, the scent of hay and mulch grew stronger. Inside, it was dusty, but clean enough. A small tack room and bathroom sat below a loft, all separated from the stables and hay bales by a narrow door. The upstairs loft was just big enough for Remy to fully stand, but Matthew had to hunch a bit. Two twin beds and a floor lamp were the only current residents in the loft.

“Make yourselves at home. There's fresh sheets in the bathroom closet. If you need anything at all, just holler," Sal gave each of them a pat on the back and disappeared through the door. Despite the weirdness of the place, there was something genuine about the Great Dane that drew Remy towards him.

The wolf and coyote unloaded their essentials from the car. Just a couple of bags and trinkets that they tucked into a corner of the loft. They pushed the beds together and chose the biggest blanket from the closet. They stripped down to their boxers and slid under the covers into their usual positions; Remy curled up in front, and Matthew behind with a thick arm wrapped around the coyote's chest with that lupine bulge pressed into his butt.

On his side, Remy could see the darkness outside through several small cracks in the wall. It must get freezing in here during the winter, he thought. It was warm enough tonight though.

Morning announced itself with glaring beams of light piercing through those very same cracks. Remy had starfished across the two mattresses in his sleep. He felt lingering warmth on the wolf's mattress, but no wolf. The coyote rolled over to see his partner sitting at the edge of the loft, already dressed and playing a game on his phone.

“Morning, babe," Remy croaked out.

“Barely any cell service," Matthew held his phone up. “Only place I can get reception is out by the grain silo."

“You've been busy then."

“It's hard to sleep in a new place."

Remy stretched his arms first, then reached down to touch his toes. He rolled into a lazy downward dog position and arched so his ass jut into the air and his chest rested on the bed. He smirked at Matthew. “Would it help if we christened the mattresses?"

It was a fairly short session, and ended, like always, with Matthew's lupine knot buried in Remy's snug rear, pumping a thick voluminous load into the coyote's guts. It eventually popped out with a squelch. The boys squeezed themselves into the tiny shower and helped each other rinse off. If this was what their mornings looked like from now on, Remy would have been a very happy coyote indeed.

They made it to the main house just past 9 am. The walk over was more of a meander as they admired the open sky and thriving crops. The back door had been left open. Abe came barreling out and greeted them with a whipping tail and sloppy kisses.

A donkey sat alone at the kitchen table, scarfing down a stack of syrup sogged pancakes and a glass of frothy looking milk. He wore a raggedy grey t-shirt with dark sweat stains under the pits. The fabric barely held together over his biceps. If there was a nearby store, Remy might have picked some new shirts up for the workhorse(donkey).

“Pancakes in the kitchen," the donkey muttered without a glance in their direction.

The boys followed a sweet scent trail to the kitchen, where they found a cornucopia of pancakes, eggs, bacon, all stacked high and still warm. The boys helped themselves and sat in the same places they did the night before. Except now instead of sitting across an outgoing Great Dane, they faced a rather uninterested looking donkey. Breakfast was quiet.

After they finished the meal, the donkey reached into the shirt pocket and slid a crumpled note across the table.

“Wayne left this for ya."

Matthew opened it. “Have breakfast and head to field S."

“Field 5." the donkey corrected. “It's by the pump house down the dirt road. Can't miss it."

As they walked side by side down the dirt road to field five, Remy's mind wandered back to what

the pair had left behind in the city. Not much, but enough to sting a little. Maybe they were in over their heads being here. Remy's thoughts were interrupted by his boyfriend.

“What do you make of that guy?"

“Who? The donkey?"

“Yeah."

“He seems… quiet. Why? You into him?"

“No! No, I was just wondering."

“Why not?" Remy grinned mischievously. “He's kinda got that silent but badass thing going on."

“Pfft, I'd choose you any day." Matthew gave Remy's ass a quick grope, drawing a yelp from the

coyote.

Soon enough, the pair caught sight of a decrepit pump house standing between a street-block sized pond, and a field with knee high alfalfa stalks. At the edge of the field, Wayne stood beside a John Deere tractor, hunched underneath a lifted side panel, shoulder deep in the machinery.

Remy called out as they approached the working bull. “Good morning, Wayne!"

Wayne's head snapped up. His overalls were already smeared with streaks of fresh grease that ran all the way down to his work boots. He wiped the back of a hand against his sweaty forehead, leaving a new streak behind. “Mornin' boys. How was your first night in the loft?"

“No complaints here," said the coyote. The wolf nodded in silent agreement.

“Good. I got a few chores for you two," Wayne pointed a couple fields down. “First off, I want you two to walk the perimeter of field three. That one over there. Make sure there aren't any breaks in the fence. We had a couple sheep get loose yesterday morning. Fence ain't hot, but it's barbed. If you don't have gloves, get yourself a pair from the house. Come find me when you're done."

“Yes, sir." the boys replied in unison.

The rest of the day passed by with similar easy tasks that made Remy wonder if Wayne was taking it easy on them. Still, the sun was relentless, and the only time the boys sat down was for a quick ham and cheese sandwich for lunch. By five o'clock, the boys were wiped.

They returned to the main house to find the aroma of grilled cheese and tomato soup swimming in the air. The donkey stood at the stove, focused on stirring the massive bowl of soup. Remy caught the way Matthew's eyes lingered a second longer than necessary on the equine. The way the shirt fabric stretched across his back muscles and the dark spots growing under his armpits.

Remy offered a cheerful greeting as they found seats at the table, which the donkey acknowledged with a grunt. He brought the boys plates of grilled cheese, bowls of soup, and cold water straight from the fridge.

“Dig in. We only eat together on Sundays." said the donkey.

“Hey, you never told us your name," said Remy.

The donkey's eyes flicked over to the coyote for a brief moment before returning to the soup. “Rhett." he grunted simply.

Remy leaned forward on his elbows, ignoring the food for a moment. “So, Rhett, what's the deal with that 'Full Service' part of the job? Do you know what that means?" he asked, trying to sound casual. Matthew elbowed him and flashed him a look as if to say 'drop it'.

His question was met with a moment of silence. A twitch played at the corner of Rhett's mouth, the first hint of emotion the stoic man had shown. Amusement?

“You two ain't ever heard of that before?"

Rhett's amusement was met with a flicker of annoyance on Mathew's face.

“Can't you just tell us what it means?"

“Means there's a reason why Wayne usually hires fags for Full Service."

Matthew stiffened at that word. Remy's heart started to race like it always did when someone said it. In his experience, that word was typically followed by a shove to the ground, or a punch to the face. Matthew opened his mouth to fire back, but Rhett continued.

“To put it plainly, you service the animals," Rhett said flatly. “You let 'em fuck you."

Just as quickly as Remy's heart had begun to race, it suddenly seized in his chest. His tail attempted to hide between his legs. “You mean we're here to be sexually involved… with the farm animals?" his words were barely above a whisper, his mind scrambling in an attempt to comprehend the full implications of what Rhett was telling them. “Does everyone here do this?"

“Naw, just the Full Service workers. Wayne hasn't had anyone in that position for a couple years now. You'll figure it out."

Matthew's jaw tightened and untightened, his green eyes narrowing in rage. “You're fucking joking." he said.

“Nope."

Matthew stood up so fast his chair almost toppled over. It scraped back against the hardwood floor. Rhett didn't even flinch. If the donkey was even closer, Matthew might have tried to punch the donkey. “That's fucking disgusting. And not what we signed up for. We're leaving. Remy, come on. Let's go."

The wolf turned to go, but Remy's hand shot out and grabbed his forearm.

“Matthew, hold on," Remy said softly. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “Babe, we're broke. We can't even afford the gas to get back to the city. And if we leave now…" his words trailed off. Both boys knew what would happen if they left. They'd practically be stranded. No job, no shelter, and no way of fixing their situation. Just a crusty old truck and the clothes on their backs. “We need to think this through."

Rhett had gone back to readying the grilled cheeses for the rest of the workers. His tail swished back and forth like an irritated cat. “We ain't keeping you hostage or anything. Leave if you can't handle it."

Heavy hoof steps pounded up the porch stairs into the room.

“Evening boys," Wayne said. The big bull's eyes scanned across the room, taking in the canines, then the equine. He seemed to notice the stiff body language and his eyes sharpened. “Everything alright?"

Rhett huffed out a long stream of hair. “Yeah, they know."

Wayne shifted his posture. He nodded slowly. “Alright. Well, you two have any questions now that you know what's what?" He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Plenty. Why didn't you tell us yesterday that this was part of the job description?" Matthew asked in disgust.

“No need to raise your voice. My kid's upstairs," Wayne said. “It's not exactly something we can advertise openly. Blame Sal if you're blaming anybody. He painted the sign, ran the ad. He figured anyone who applied would know what it meant. We're not the only ones who use the terminology anyways." The bull's voice softened. “Look, the animals need sexual release just like the rest of us. Otherwise, they tend to go a little stir crazy."

Matthew clenched his fists in barely concealed rage. Remy couldn't ignore that, but he also couldn't ignore their precarious financial situation. “What exactly would 'service' involve?" He tried to keep his voice neutral, but the tremor betrayed his worry. “I mean, you're not talking about actual intercourse, right?"

“We're not paying you for just a handjob or a blowie. They need real release. You two seem like nice boys who happen to be in a pinch. I can still have you around to help out and help out. We can forget this whole conversation. But if that's the case, I can't offer more than food and board." Wayne's gaze was sympathetic, but unyielding.

Rhett finally eased into a chair at the table. “Might not be as bad as you're thinking. Last guy took to it like a fish to water. Said he'd do it for free." He shot them a knowing wink. “And let's face it, wouldn't you rather bend over for an hour or two than bust your back all day in the fields?"

“You're saying that would replace the farm work?"

“We'd still need extra hands come harvest season. But essentially, yes." Wayne said.

“We'll uh… think about it." Remy's voice sounded small. He tried to ignore his turning stomach. The grilled cheese on his plate suddenly looked cold and way too greasy. He didn't dare look at Matthew, fearing the collateral anger he might catch from his boyfriend's eyes. “We'll just stick to the other duties for now."

Wayne nodded thoughtfully. “I get it. It's a tough pill to swallow. But it's important for the animals." He leaned forward, now speaking directly to Remy. “And just so we're all on the same page, it's better if it's only one of you. The animals like the consistency. I reckon you'd be better for the job, being smaller. You should be able to fit under most of the animals. You take care of that, and your boyfriend can stick to light chores; cooking, some basic maintenance. I'll give you each your own allowance too. What do you say?"

Food, shelter, money for each of them with very little work. If the job was anything else, Remy would have jumped at the chance.

“No," Matthew said firmly, his tone laced with a growl. “I'm not letting Remy do that shit for any amount of money."

Wayne studied them for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Take some time to mull it over," he said finally as he grabbed a plate and filled it up. “I'll be upstairs if you need anything. I'm sure you have a lot to discuss." He nodded to Rhett. “We';; leave you to it." His heavy hoof steps plodded up the wooden stairs.

Rhett stretched his arms back and stood, his plate now empty. He wordlessly took the rest of the dishes and began washing them. “Lots of work tomorrow. You two get some rest."

The coyote and wolf trekked back to the barn. The weight of the conversation hung like a weight from their shoulders. Once inside, they showered the sweat and dirt from their fur, climbed into bed, and pulled the covers over themselves. Matthew gave Remy a kiss on the cheek, and held him close as they drifted off to a restless sleep.

After a short breakfast the next morning, the boys stood with Wayne on the front porch. Remy was dressed in his typical black shorts and tank top while Matthew wore a t-shirt and jeans. The wolf already looked half cowboy. Like yesterday, the canines had a quickie right after waking up. Remy shifted his stance, still feeling a twinge of soreness in his hind.

With a deep sigh and a side glance at Matthew, Remy steeled himself and forced the words from his mouth. “I thought about it. Matthew and I talked," he cleared his throat. “I'll do it."

Wayne clapped his hands together. “Great! Let's get to it then. You already met your first… let's say client." The bull led the boys inside the house, Matthew following sullenly behind.

The mastiff, Abe, lay on the couch watching them. His tail began to thump on the cushions as they approached. His warm chocolate eyes flashed excitedly between the trio. He was a large, unneutered male, with a thick coat that just about matched the floorboards in color. “This is Abe, as you know. Had him since he was just a pip. He's been a bit pent up lately. I reckon it's to do with the neighbors up north of us getting a bitch a few months ago. He can probably smell it in the air. Anyways, quite the mutt, ain't he?"

Remy reached a hand out, which the mastiff licked.

“I'll leave you to it. Wolf boy, you can hang around, or you can go help Sal repair the baler. I'm sure you can hold a flashlight for him." With that, Wayne ambled out of the room.

The room fell to an empty silence besides the throb of his own pulse in his ears. Matthew stood across the room, looking down at the floor, his arms hugging his chest. He spoke through gritted teeth. “You really don't have to do this. We can leave right now. Just drive out of here til the truck breaks down, and then hitchhike back ti the city."

“I know it's not… ideal. But we don't have much of a choice. What would we even do if we got back to the city> Live with my parents?" He forced a laugh and tried to smile reassuringly. “It'll be fine. You finish your chores, and I'll catch you in a little bit." Matthew held a firm look of disapproval on his face. “Please," Remy added.

Matthew grumbled a low 'love you' and walked out, leaving Remy alone with the massive feral dog.

Remy stepped closer to Abe, shaking slightly. His feet felt like they were made of lead. He couldn't believe it had come to this, this kind of degradation in exchange for necessities. He considered what Matthew had said. The wolf would rather die than humiliate himself; him and his pride. But Remy had taken grueling, humiliating jobs before. The coyote had had the public throw drinks on his as a barista, been verbally abused as a telemarketer, and even had someone try to run him over as a gas station attendant. How was this really any different?

The coyote offered a small smile to the dog, who returned it with another hand lick. The mastiff's sheath was fittingly massive, making Remy wonder about the size of what it contained. He couldn't help but regret letting Matthew top him that morning. The ache in his backside, although a reminder of his boyfriend's passion, made him whimper quietly at the thought of letting anything else inside. Remy gently stroked Abe's back. The mastiff rolled over on the couch, letting his tongue loll out, and exposing more of his furry belly, and those weighty balls that hung to the side.

With a trembling hand, Remy reached down to touch the furry sheath, just to feel, expecting a growl or maybe even a bite, but receiving only a happy wag from the big dog that jostled his egg sized testicles. The dog had a scent to him. Strong, masculine, and canine. Almost reminiscent of how Matthew smelled. The thought of sucking that mastiff cock entered Remy's mind, but he forced it out. Remy had to just get this over with, as quickly as possible.

Remy's eyes wandered to the coffee table centered in the room. There was a small bottle of silicon lube. Not Remy's favorite, but he had to admit it worked like a charm. He undressed, taking time to fold his clothes into an even pile on the table. The coyote dropped to his knees on the scratchy living room rug and applied a generous dollop of lube on his fingers.

Before he could apply the lube to his hole, Abe hopped from the couch and darted his slick tongue between the coyote's cheeks, sliding past fur and skin to find the tight pink entrance hidden between. Matthew's cum was still there from their morning romp, thick and sticky. The sensation was jarring. The thick muscle lapped away at Matthew's juices, and slipped an inch inside every couple licks. Remy's body clenched instinctively, but the dog was insistent. Saliva mixed with semen in Remy's body, and his asshole was worked open. The lube was forgotten in his hand. Remy gave in and spread his legs apart, finding his own cock straining and dripping between his legs.

Guilt threatened to overwhelm Remy. Nausea crept up in his throat. The boys had agreed to this, but that was before Remy thought he might enjoy it at all.

The feral dog jumped on top and quickly wrapped his front paws around Remy's waist, almost pitching the coyote forward. Several quick jabs into his taint, and the tip found its target. Pressure at his tail hole where Abe's tapered cock met his saliva and cum coated entrance. Forcing doubt from his mind, Remy closed his eyes and arched slightly, allowing Abe to push more of his slimy shaft inside. The intruding cock tip brought a wave of pain with it, striking Remy's core. The mastiff was already larger than Matthew, although that was a secret Remy would take to his grave.

Remy tried to relax. Abe jerked his hips back and forth excitedly, giving Remy no time to adjust. The sharp pain dulled into a monotonous throb that was somehow just as deep and intense. The first six, mauve seven inches of red rocket plowed in and out of Remy like a piston, stopped only but a growing knot that slammed against the coyote's muscled ring. The underside of the veiny canine shaft rubbed up against Remy's prostate, forcing a high pitched whine out of him that did nothing to quell the intense pleasure building in his core. The room smelled of raw sex, and feral dog musk. Remy thanked God that his boyfriend couldn't hear the moans and whimpers that escaped his lips.

---

Outside the living room window, Matthew sat on the ground with his back against the house, his knees drawn up to meet his chest, listening with back-turned ears to the sound of his boyfriend and a seemingly ravenous feral canine. For a moment, he tried to imagine that it was him inside Remy, him that was making Remy make those noises. But he couldn't detach himself with the sordid reality of what was happening just behind the wall.

Matthew rose slowly, putting himself at eye level with the window. He leaned close and peeked in, careful not to make any sudden movements that would give his presence away. He saw it. All of it. A side view of his boyfriend on all fours, and the four legged dog pumping away at him. It was all the wolf could do to not pound on the window or burst back into the room and stop the pair. Instead, he sank back to the ground and simply listened.

---

Inside, Remy felt Abe's knot at full mast, swollen and begging for entrance. He smelled the sweet and salty scent of Matthew's cum that had been displaced and now stuck to the mastiff's crotch fur and soaking wet shaft. Abe panted heavily. That sloppy tongue drooled strands of saliva on Remy's back. Remy remembered the way Matthew had stretched him that morning, the way the wolf's knot had popped inside and locked them together as he was lovingly bred by his boyfriend. He imagined the remnants of Matthew's jizz sloshing around, being churned by the transgressing dog cock. And as the dog's knot pressed up against his backside one more time and was then forced inside, he wondered if Matthew's leftover cum had been the extra lubricant needed to help slide it in. The bulging knot stretched the coyote to his limit and electrocuted his nervous system with pleasure signals that almost made him collapse.

Remy didn't feel himself cumming. He didn't notice his hole clamping down behind Abe's knot, barring the dog from pulling the knot back out even if it wanted to. He almost didn't even notice when Abe's teeth sunk into the flesh of his shoulder. Remy was fuller than Matthew had ever left him. Abe's tapered cockhead poked into his second hole deep in his rectum. The sensation was unlike anything he'd experienced before. It was the ultimate violation. The beast's penis had not only invaded his most private areas that only his boyfriend was supposed to touch, but had now gone beyond that into what felt like Remy's very core. The mastiff soiled the coyote even further by spurting jets of slimy dog cum past where the wolf could reach. It pulsed into his deepest guts.

---

Outside, Matthew had chosen the worst possible time to peek once more though the window. With a howling climax that rang over fields, Remy's body spasmed as it accepted the dirty dog's bulb inside. Matthew couldn't see past Remy and the mastiff's legs to see his boyfriend's cock, but he sure smelled the familiar scent when Remy came. The wolf held back a protective snarl when Abe bit down on the coyote's shoulder.

Matthew watched as Abe finally hopped off and turned around. The strand of flesh behind his knot connected them as the knot stayed lodged inside, presumably filling the prone coyote with at least several litters worth of dog cum. Labored breathing filled the room. After a couple minutes like that, Abe stepped forward, tugging Remy's stretched out hole along with him. The knot slurped out. It was followed by a flow of watery cum that trickled down the coyote's balls and thighs. Abe turned to lick up the mess he'd made. Matthew shivered, remembering the morning session he and Remy had. He wondered if his cum had soaked into Remy, or if it had all been displaced by the dog's animalistic fucking. He stifled a gag. Matthew reached into his pocket to grab his phone to distract himself from the sight. Upon doing so, he found a wet spot where the tip of his penis had been.

---

Once Abe had finished licking up Remy's sloppy tunnel, the coyote managed to stand up on jelly legs. His body felt used, and disgust began to overtake him. He shooed away Abe, and redressed quickly, already thinking about a warm shower. His shoulder throbbed. Remy didn't bother cleaning up the puddles of cum on the carpet.

At the loft, Matthew was already in the shower. He made room for the coyote. Remy scrubbed off the dog's cum that stuck to his thighs, but could do nothing about the pool that was currently soaking into his guts. And the musky aroma of dog seemed to linger long after the shower.

The rest of the night was spent in tense silence. At bedtime, Remy slid in next to Matthew as usual. Matthew's eyes were closed, but Remy knew the wolf was only pretending to be asleep. Still, it felt warm and safe next to him. And as the wolf pretended to sleep, the coyote pretended he didn't still feel the ache of dog teeth on his shoulder.