[i]The National Weather Service has Issued a Blizzard Warning for the following counties...[/i]
Gus' ears perked up as his weather radio blared from the bedroom, his paw working his long, pink shaft to a snuff flick he found while laundering his crypto, Trigger and Jessie both trying to push their head close enough to lap at his drooling tip, the rotties' nubs wagging eagerly.

[i]...including mile markers 120 to 195. Stay indoors, do not travel. This is a dangerous storm.[/i]
"Fuck yeah! About fuckin' time!" The stocky roo works himself to a sticky finish as the radio finishes its broadcast tones, painting his dogs' faces with acrid cum. They happily clean Gus up as he sinks into his recliner, then begin to clean their treat off of each other before settling back down around his feet. 

Gus grabs his cheap cigar from the titty ash tray and takes a deep puff. [i]Well, that was fun. Prep time![/i] With a spring in his step, the roo climbs into his coveralls and makes his way to the garage, pulling his floor jack under the front axle of the tow truck and pumping til the tires barely lift off the ground. Curls of frosty breath and cigar smoke fill the air as he grunts and curses, fumbling his chains around each tire before dropping the front and swapping around to chain the back ones. 

Afterward, he heads to the storm cellar, grabbing a tarp and some restraints before locking back up. He takes them back to the garage and lays the tarp out in the far corner, rigging up the restraints to a spare chain he gets hooked around one of the rafters after a couple of tosses, almost smacking himself in the eye in the process. 

Dusting his hands off with a satisfied, tobacco-stained grin, he nods at his handiwork and almost skips his way back to the house, whistling for Jessie as his cock strains against his coveralls, "C'mon girl, round two!" Scampering noises rattle through the house as the female heads for the bedroom, jumping up on the bed and rolling onto her back as Gus strips all the way down and leaves his coveralls and boxers on the floor. The rottie's nub wiggles happily and flags as her master enters, "Gooooooood girl~" he coos while he teases his dripping, tapered dick over her cookie, slickening her up before easing his way inside. He huffs out a soft groan as his fingertips run through her sleek fur, leaning in to kiss her muzzle and let her lick his tongue while he takes her. Unlike his toys, his dogs are lovers. Trigger hops on the bed as well, looking expectantly at Gus and headbutting into his side. 

The roo grins and gives him a sloppy kiss as well, reaching underneath to tease the male's sheath and coax out his rocket. The rottie's forepaws wrap around Gus' arm as his hips start to work excitedly, pushing his shaft out til the roo can close his fingers behind the bud of his knot, all while the roo leaks and thrusts eagerly into the bitch beneath him. After a few seconds, Trigger is fully swollen and throbbing in Gus' grip, squirting streaks over the bed as he's tugged to climax before releasing the roo's arm and turning around as if he'd just tied Jessie. A few minutes more of passionate lovemaking and Gus has to let Trigger go so he doesn't collapse on the dog he just finished pumping full of his joeys. As he slides out, she gets up and zooms around the house, nub wagging furiously before she settles down next to Trigger and starts cleaning herself. Gus takes the opportunity to flop onto the dirty sheets and grab a nap, thoroughly exhausted from the trio's escapades.
*******************
Gus' eyes snap awake as his phone goes crazy, buzzing and emitting emergency tones. The wind howls outside his bedroom window as he reaches over and grabs the phone off the nightstand, looking at it bleary-eyed. [i]***Emergency Activation Broadcast: All roads are closed due to deteriorating conditions. Do not travel!***[/i] A wicked grin curls across his lips as he dismisses the alert and fires up his scanner app, chubbing up under the crusty blanket he managed to roll into in his sleep. [i]Showtime...[/i]

"Gawddamn I hate snow duty. What fuckin' [i]retards[/i] go driving out in this shit?"

"Hey, hey, hey, let's keep it professional! I've got a nephew with special needs, so don't you dare use that word, Steve."

"Sorry! My bad, ma'am. I just don't know what else to call folks who don't know how to stay home when the roads turn to shit."

"They're called 'cops and tow truck drivers', jackass."

"Hey, fuck you! Now who's being unprofessional?"
*******************
The frigid headwind whips up a constant fog of snow against the heated windshield, melting the flakes instantly and forcing the wipers to work at full tilt. At the wheel, a road-weary otter tries to keep the sedan steady. The pavement markings disappeared miles ago, but he was hellbent on making it to the next town before he'd consider getting off the road, despite the nagging from his wife that started two towns back. "Just a bit further, my love, then we can pull off..." His eyelids grow heavy, and the scenery begins to blur...

Before it could register in his tired brain that his car had found a ditch, his nostrils were filled with blood and airbag dust. He coughed and hacked as he snapped back to reality, his wife shaking his shoulder and sobbing as she relayed the situation to the 911 dispatcher, "Yes, he's still breathing, thank god!"
*********************
"Alright boys, got another wreck. This one's out near 174. Any takers?"

"Another one? Ho-lee shit! That's the tenth one in the past hour."

"Ain't no fuckin' way we can hook 'em all. They'll hafta take a number."

"Hope they got a car blanket. They'll be lucky if the cops can even get to 'em before the storm ends. 'Specially that far out in the boonies!"
****************
"Paydirt! That's my cue." Gus crawls out of the warmth of his blankets and the pile of dogs on top of him, stretching out and scratching his beer gut and balls before picking his shed clothing off the floor and getting dressed. Filling a big mug with rusty water, he sticks it in the microwave and nukes it for a few minutes before dumping it, a few packets of hot chocolate mix,  and some pills into a thermos. He screws it shut and shakes it up to mix it all together, then grabs his keys and hat, 'Here for the Ho Ho Hoes' with strippers on candy cane dancing poles flanking the text, before heading out the door. It takes a few minutes for the engine to warm up, even in the garage, but the old girl handles the boot-deep snow without issue, chains keeping his tires on the nonexistent road.
****************
The possum clings onto her lutrine husband for warmth, the couple shivering as they wait for rescue. The dispatcher had assured them that help was on the way, but that was what felt like hours ago. The car wouldn't start back up, but thankfully the windows were all still intact. The heat slowly seeped through the fogged up glass, though, and their breaths had become visible. The otter held his wife close, slouched into the seat with streaks of dried blood on his muzzle and coat. The adrenaline had long since faded and the exhaustion settled back in. "Hector? Hector! Come on, now, stay awake! Help is on the way..." his wife pleaded, doubt starting to creep into her voice. Suddenly, her voice perks up, "It's here! Help is here! We're saved, honey!"
*******************
"Now where are these dumbfucks..." Gus slows to a crawl as he scans the ditch, the tire tracks long since covered. The first clue he was in the right spot was the twisted mile marker 174, but the car was a white sedan and visibility is shit. What finally catches his eye is the faint blinking of the nearly buried hazard lights. The windows are all fogged up, so no telling what to expect. Gus throws it into park and grabs the thermos, stuffing it into a pocket and lighting a fresh cigar to keep himself warm.

He clumsily trundles down the slope, checking out the crumpled front before tapping on the foggy driver's window. A webbed paw wearing a wedding band smears a streak clean before a powdered and crusty face looks back at him. [i]Otter, and...[/i] Another face akwardly pokes around, eagerly trying to see their savior: pink nose, whiskers, white muzzle, sharp teeth [i]...possum. That's an odd couple, hate to see what their kids look like![/i] He grins and snickers to himself, waving as they wave back to him. 

He points at the door handle, not bothering to try yell over the howling wind. The otter tries opening the door and shrugs, shaking his head. Gus claps his hand to his forehead as he looks down, seeing the car door buried halfway into a snow drifts. [i]Well no shit the door won't open, it's buried.[/i] He holds up a finger and stumbles his way back up to his truck, falling on his face a couple of times and getting mouthfuls of snow. He grabs a prybar out of the toolkit and taps on the window after making his way back down, motioning for them to scoot back. The possum shakes her head and waves her arms "no", but the otter slides over as best as he can and tries to shield her as Gus smashes the glass. 

The chunky roo's voice carries in on the slicing wind "Sorry 'bout yer window, but I gotta get you out before I can hook yer car. Mah truck's nice n warm, let's go!" He finishes clearing the safety glass from the driver side window before reaching in, the otter grabbing onto his arm and carefully crawling out into the blizzard. They both reach for the possum, the husband beckoning with his stubby arms, "Come on, Ellen, time to go!" She nods and takes the offered hands as they come into reach, first Gus', then Hector's. Forming a chain, they climb out of the ditch. 

Gus lifts them into the passenger side of his truck, the balmy warmth kissing their faces and enveloping the couple in its tender embrace. "Sheeeeee-it, it's downright frigid out here! Stay here and warm up, it'll be a bit before I can get your car pulled out." Pulling the thermos out of his pocket, he offers it to the couple, "I brought a lil somethin' to help ya warm up from the inside, too." The shivering Ellen takes it gratefully, fumbling with the top before finally getting it open and taking a swig. She coughs and blinks as the rusty taste hits her tongue, but does her best not to be rude and swallows before handing it to her husband. 

"Thh...tthththhhhank you, sir," she stammers out, teeth still chattering. Gus gives a toothy smile that could melt the wintry hellscape as the couple takes turns draining his tainted offering, "Yer mighty welcome, ma'am. Now just sit back, relax, and let ol' Gus getcha ta safety. You two lovebirds behave, now!" He winks and shuts the passenger door, moving out of sight and taking a few drags from his cigar in a spot he can find with the least amount of wind possible. [i]The way they're neckin' that thermos, won't be long...[/i]

Tired of freezing his balls off after a couple minutes, Gus climbs into the truck. The otter is fully zonked, but the possum is still somewhat conscious. She looks at the roo quizzically, "Whasschudoin? Ishdacahh..." she slurs, clearly fucked up on the drugged cocoa. "Oh don'chu worry, ma'am," he places his hand in her lap, rubbing his fingers over her crotch, "it ain't goin' nowhere." She purrs softly, not registering that the roo is getting a bit too friendly with her, "Ohhhhhhkayshhhhiirrrr..." Gus chuckles as he stuffs his cold hand down her pants and crams his dry fingers into her cunt, "Here, you can be my hand warmer for the ride back!" Ellen recoils a bit at the sudden chill in her nethers, drunkenly trying to squirm away and finding herself trapped by the truck door, "Heyyyyyyy...shhhtoppit!" 

The lewd roo unzips the front of his coveralls and fishes his dick out, still roughly fingering her pussy with his frigid digits, "Here, you can play with this if you wanna warm back up." She tries fumbling for the door, not realizing that Gus had already locked it as he shut them in earlier. Her fingers refuse to work the way she wants as her motor skills decline, muscles relaxing and causing her to go slack in her seat. Gus grins and grabs the possum by her scruff, cramming his dick down her throat as he shifts back into drive and shuts off his emergency lights. The pills relaxed Ellen's gag reflex, letting him push her all the way to the hilt without any kind of resistance. He takes the opportunity to face-fuck her as the tears roll down her muzzle, giving her an ashtray-flavored load down her gullet. The taste was far worse than the rusty hot cocoa,  everything spinning together as the haze of body funk and drugs fill her mind til she passes out.

Flipping back around, he abandons the sedan and pulls over a mile down the road. After a bit of searching, he finds the couple's phones and tosses them out the window before making his way back home. It takes much longer to return, the old country roads piled up with more snow than when he left. Gus pulls into the garage and kills the engine, dragging the couple out one at a time and laying them out on the tarp. 

He only brought one set of restraints out from his collection, so he had to improvise. Grabbing some nylon rope, he trusses up the otter, then hooks the possum into the restraints. The roo slings the much lighter otter over his shoulder and lugs him out, shutting the garage door behind him and abandoning Ellen for now. The dogs bark happily as their master returns, nubs wiggling in delight before running outside to do their business. Gus unceremoniously drops the zonked Hector onto the floor and peels the boots off of his huge kangaroo feet, getting comfy for the evening. Letting the dogs back in, he proceeds to strip back down to his boxers and cracks open a beer, watching TV with the shitty reception while he waits for the drugs to wear off.

Hours pass and a hungover groan rises from the floor, catching Gus' attention. Trigger sniffs curiously at the otter, giving a sharp bark right in Hector's ear. "Owwww..." the mustelid shifts around, trying to rub his head and finding his arms restrained, "...the fuck? Where am I?" His blood runs cold as he hears a hearty chuckle above him. He twists and cranes his neck up to see a blob sitting in a recliner, bleary eyes still focusing. The blob gets up and he can see it wearing what he can only guess are boxers, and the pink poking out the front that it's happy to see him.

"Well g'mornin, sunshine~" the deep voice jeers, an orange glow brightens near it's mouth. Hector feels his body getting lifted, and then placed on a hard surface. "What...what's going on?" the otter inquires, trying to get his bearings. The blob ignores him, opting instead to open a squeaky drawer and rattle around metallic objects. Suddenly, the sounds of fabric ripping and tearing fills the room, and he can feel his clothing being pulled from his bound body. Panic sets in and Hector squirms against his bindings, earning him a meaty thwack between the ears. "Now, now, cut that out. Don't wanna cut ya up just yet." 

An icy chill ran down the otter's spine at those last two words: just yet. [i]Meaning, at some point this psycho [b]does[/b] want to cut me up.[/i] Hector begins to plead with his captor, his eyes finally starting to clear up and focus on some strange, filthy kangaroo he's never met before, "Please, mister, you don't have to do this! I can get you money and I won't tell anyone anything." 

[i]Mmm...begging...[/i] "Oh don'tcha worry none, I'll treat ya right." Gus grins as he finishes stripping the bound otter and puts the kitchen knife away. He lifts Hector's stubby legs and lines his tapered tip up with the male's exposed asshole. In a moment of bold stupidity, the otter tries to slap his thick tail up between Gus' legs. The roo guffaws as he rams in and starts to rape the mustelid's virgin hole, "My balls are up here, dipshit!" Hector yelps out in pain as he's impaled on Gus' dry length, only making the marsupial that much more eager to cram it all inside. The tight otter tries to fight as best he can, involuntary tears rolling down his cheeks as streaks of shit and blood from fresh fissures start to lube his attacker up. His yelps and grunts of pain push Gus' hair trigger and the nasty roo pumps the otter's ass full of his rancid spunk. 

Not bothering to clean himself up, Gus drops the used Hector back on the floor with a resounding thud and gets dressed. He picks the naked otter back up and slings him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, carrying him to the door and flinging him outside into the snow. The sudden shock stabs into Hector like a knife, causing him to draw in a sharp breath and cry out, much to the twisted roo's amusement. "Sure is cold, ain't it?" he laughs. Gus picks Hector up and tosses him again, repeating the process a few times as he makes his way to the garage. He eventually tosses the otter onto the concrete floor and shuts the garage door behind him. Somewhere in the dark, a woman's sobs echo out.

"Wh-wh-who's th-ththththere? Ellen, is thththat you?" the otter chattered, dreading the answer. "Hector? Hector! It's me! Help me! Get me out of here!" the familiar voice pleaded. Gus lit up another cigar, chuckling as he drags Hector across the garage floor and onto the tarp. As the dimly lit kangaroo's face came into view, Ellen screams, earning her a punch to the gut, "Aaaaahhhh shaddap ya dumb cunt! It's too early for that." The possum coughs and wheezes, trying to regain the wind that got knocked out of her. Hector struggles fruitlessly on the ground in protest, "Leave my wife alone, motherfucker!" Gus just laughs, giving the otter a boot to the chest and causing him to join his wife's coughing fit. He unhooks her restraints from the chain and strings the otter up in her place, "Now just hang out here for a bit 'n cool yer heels. Me 'n yer missus got some catchin' up ta do. Maybe I'll even let'cha watch round four!" [i]Round 4? But that would mean...[/i] Hector struggles as he dangles naked in the air, the roo's cum leaking out of his abused asshole, "You sick bastard! What did you do to Ellen?" The nasty roo laughs derisively and slings the bound possum over his shoulder, puffs of sickeningly sweet smoke trailing behind him as he exits the garage, "It's too fuckin' cold to fuck in here, we'll be back later." Ellen screams and thrashes, earning herself a trip into a snowdrift as Gus closes the garage once more and leaving Hector in the frigid dark.

[i]Feels like I could fuck a hole through a brick wall...[/i] Gus thought to himself as his grimy coveralls strained to keep his erection tucked away. Unlike her husband, Ellen learned to stop thrashing after the first dunk in the snow, instead opting to wail and sob in her captor's ear. She may as well have stripped down and spread her legs, as it was pushing all of Gus' buttons. [i]Maybe this toy will last a while...[/i]

The dogs greeted the pair as he gave the possum the same rough treatment as her husband, tossing her onto the floor like luggage before stripping out of his winter gear and clothes. Her eyes widened as she saw his long, mostly pink dick mottled with flecks of red and brown waving and drooling above her, screaming out for help and trying to scoot her way into a corner as the dogs start barking. In the back of her mind, she could vaguely recall getting a taste of that nasty thing before she arrived, and the primal part of her brain caused her to seize up in terror. "Hah, that makes things easy! Stupid trash cats, nothing wrong with crackin' open a cold one." Gus jeered as he fished the knife out of the drawer, cutting off Ellen's clothes and taking the stiff, nude, and bound woman to his recliner. He settles in and flips through the staticky channels before spearing the marsupial on his dirty spire and smearing last session's cum and streaks of her husband's blood and shit all over the inside of her dry cunt. 

Gus' hand feels around and slips into her pouch, teasing and tweaking her nipples while he slowly uses the possum like a sex doll, biding his time until her seizure fades and she comes back to reality. After a few minutes, Ellen comes to, and begins to sob uncontrollably as she finds herself being violated by the foul roo. This is the reward, the big payoff that Gus had been waiting for! He forces his muzzle to hers in a degrading kiss, making her choke and gag on his unwashed mouth that reeked of decay, skunked beer, and cheap cigars, the two marsupials intertwined in a wicked moment as she tries to scream, the male pumping his vile jizz deep inside before collapsing back and holding her tight. Her sobbing intensifies into full-on wailing as Gus takes another drag off his cigar before extinguishing it on the center of Ellen's back, making her scream in pain as the scent of burnt fur and skin fills the air. "Yeahhhhhh, there we go..."

After a bit of recovery time, Gus kills the TV and drags his new toy to bed, kicking and screaming as she's dragged by fhe tail. This time, he opts to rape her asshole, which turns out to be far looser than her hubby. A fact he uses to bludgeon her with and degrade her further. When he finishes, Ellen is forced to sleep on the floor while the dogs join Gus in bed.

Days pass into weeks and he plays musical holes with the pair, taking turns stringing one up in the garage while violating the other, feeding both just enough to keep them alive and keeping them just warm enough to avoid death by exposure. Eventually, Ellen's belly began to swell with their rapist's spawn, further adding to her trauma. Hector and Ellen had been trying for so long, but Gus managed to steal that joy away, causing the otter to ultimately stop responding to the torture. This earns Hector a slow, excruciating skinning over the tarp that had been laid down underneath, all while his pregnant wife watched, wailing in terror from where she was shackled. After the skinning, the rest of his cum-streaked remains were fed to the dogs, the grisly sight causing the possum to faint from the mental overload.

Ellen's pregnancy earns her more food and a spot next to Trigger and Jessie on the bed. Her screams and tears keep her alive and Gus' balls empty. Weeks pass into months, and the snows melt, giving way to Spring and eventually Summer. The pain of getting raped on the daily paled in comparison to the pain of giving birth to his filthy hellspawn, which he gratefully cranked it to. Gus then took it upon himself to rape his own baby in front of Ellen, its dying screams and the image of the kangaroo's bloody dick spearing through its delicate mouth and spurting cum forever seared into her mind. 

At this point all she could do was laugh. All that buildup, all the pain and suffering, for what? A few minutes of his amusement. The question spilled out of her mouth without any thought behind it, "When are you going to let me go?"

Gus thought about it for a moment. She had lasted far longer than any of his other toys. She screamed and cried whenever he beat or fucked her, she could pop out kids for him to diddle, and she was long presumed dead by the local authorities according to the news. Tossing the corpse of their first kid to the dogs, he looked Ellen dead in the eye and said, flatly, "When the Devil needs snow tires."