"Come on up! Test your might!" said the carnival barker, a disheveled, wiry lion with a large purple top hat. He was nude, as was everyone else at the traveling fair - this was the Charnival after all, clothing was not allowed. 


The air was filled with the scent of musk and fried foods, the sound of shrieks and heavy machinery, and the visuals of hundreds of nude men wandering around with nothing but the prized they had won, and they prizes they had brought with them, swinging between their legs.


"This looks like fun," Korvre said. The white, gold, and black sergal tapped the tiger he was hanging out with on the shoulder. "Tora, we should do that." 

Torajin was playing with the bright orange wrist band on his forearm, which was tickling against his fur. "What is it, exactly?"


"It's a ring toss. Toss a ring on the cone, get a prize." Korvre slipped an arm around the feline's waist and led him up to the booth. The lion grinned, wiping down the tips of the two traffic cones with dirty rags before tossing them onto the ground.


"Welcome, gentlemen," the lion purred, his voice a low rumble, rich with innuendo. His name badge said "MANGE", in the rough writing of a child. The lion leaned against the counter, his dirty, tousled golden mane catching the light in an almost halo-like effect, which really complimented the darkness hiding behind his affable smile. He gestured to the traffic cones behind him, "Two players, perfect. Shall we begin?"


"Sure, I'm game," Tora said. He looked down at the counter, then around, but saw none of the plastic weighted rings that he would expect to have on a ringtoss. "Wait..."


The rules spilled from Mange's lips with the ease of honey dripping from a spoon, slow and deliberate, each word hanging in the air. "You brought the rings with you. Climb on up," He said, patting the sturdy counter. "You're going to turn away from the rings, and then jump backwards. The goal, my hunky competitors, is to embrace the cone with the depths of your... essence, to fit as much of its firm, unyielding structure within you as possible." He gripped the two cones, tracing claws down the gradations of measurement. "The one who can take the most inside themselves, wins a fabulous prize." He gestured up and around, to the garish prizes hanging from the 'rafters' of his little prize tent. There were horse and dragon dicks a plenty, dangling with strips of leather wrapped tightly around the base.


"Are those.. sausages? Toys?" Korvre asked, squinting up at the realistic seeming hunks of male genitalia.


"Exactly," Mange said.

"Well, wait, I don't want to take a traffic cone up my ass," Tora said, putting up his hands defensively. "That's not my style at all!" 
"Yeah, he'd much rather shove it down his dick," Korvre teased, getting a punch to his shoulder from the blushing tiger.

"There's no reason to be self conscious! What happens in the Charnival stays at the Charnival, after all," Mange said. He gestured to the two men's packages, where Korvre's thickened serval cock and Tora's pink feline shaft had drooped and thickened with excitement. "It is a testament to your virility. I mean, think about, any dude can get hard, but only a real man is willing to take a rubber construction cone up their backside, right?"


"You're just afraid you're gonna lose," Korvre said, lifting up his knotted red dick and slapping it on the counter playfully. The metal barbell piercings that went up the underside of it clattered against the wood of the counter. "This is PROBABLY your only chance to be bigger and better at something than I am, after all." The sergal smirked smugly, knowing that Tora was far too proud of a feline to let such a provocation go by without responding to it.


"FINE!" Tora said. He reached up, grasping the stirrups and flexing his muscular arms and chest to pull himself up onto the counter. He sneered over his shoulder at the sergal. "What are you waiting for? Losing your spark now that I'm calling your bluff?"


Korvre grinned, grasping two more and climbing up next to Tora. The counter creaked with the weight of two fully grown men balancing on top of it, and Mange carefully shifted the cones, moving them to specific locations behind the men. 


"Some guys like to lower themselves down, slowly and carefully, but you're only gonna have half a minute to get as much of these big tubes up your ass as you can before I call a winner," Mange said. "Time starts in three... two...one... and GO!"


Tora crouched down, squatting and pushing against the counter, but holding onto the overhead stirrups. He peeked over his shoulder, trying to see exactly where the cone was - he didn't want to let go and miss it entirely.


"Hey, Tora! Check out THIS cheese wedge!" Korvre shouted, releasing the stirrups and taking the plunge. The rubbery cone struck true, and the sergal groaned in surprise as a good, good six inches of tapering cone was jammed smooth and silky up his ass with a peculiar rubbery squeaking sound. "FUCK!"


Tora couldn't let Korvre get away with such a lead! He held his breath, scrunching up his nose and let go of the stirrups himself. He didn't drop nearly as far as Korvre did, having positioned himself only a few inches above the cone, but that didn't make the sudden intrusion of the tapering bit of rubber any easier. He could tell he was several inches short of Korvre, and twisted his legs, grinding down over the traffic cone.


Onlookers gathered, a motley crew of shadowy figures drawn by the spectacle, murmured amongst themselves, eyes fixed on the bared anal gladiators before them. 
"Look at the heft on those balls," one whispered, gesturing to Tora's package as the tiger sank down another inch over the bulge of the traffic cone. 


"Aye, and cocks like that promise a show worth watching," another agreed, voice low and rough like gravel as he stared at Korvre's straining erection.


Torajin's face contorted with focus and effort, muscles straining as he twisted and gyrated, the cone's girth challenging even his impressive capacity.  He glanced over to his rival, jaw dropping as he saw Korvre simply sinking down, inch after thickening inch of the cone disappearing up the sergal's backside. His ass swallowed the rubber invader as if born for this very moment.


"Damn, Korr!" Torajin grunted, breath hitching with a mix of exertion and awe. "You're taking it like it's nothing!"


Korvre, eyes glinting with triumph and a touch of mischief, let out a husky laugh. "What can I say? I lubed up before I left, hoping to get railed," he confessed, a sultry note in his voice as he revealed his secret preparation.


"Argh," Tora groaned, his tail slapping against Korvre's as he strained take more of the thick tube up inside him. He knew he had to have been at at least a foot, his stomach distending with a ridiculous bulge, but he could also tell Korvre was much, much, further down over the cone then he was. "You're SUCH a fucking SLUT!"


"Yeah, a winning slut!" Korvre snorted. "Get rekt, newb!"


The crowd watched, entranced by the carnal dance, their cheers crescendoing with each undulation of fur and flesh. They bore witness to an intimate battle, where the line between pleasure and conquest blurred, each participant locked in a struggle not just to beat the other and win the prize but to display their capabilities to the world.


Tora's eyes shot open, his dick straining hard, as he felt a peculiar sensation, an intense sensation that flowed through his entire body. He looked down, at his prized shaft, all seven inches straining with a dark red hue he had not seen before, and his mouth opened as semen pooled continuously out of the end of it, a slurry of his own seed pouring out and over his balls. 


"But I'm not cumming?" He mumbled, confusedly. At that moment, the bell's shrill echo marked the end of the contest, and Mange, with a sardonic grin etched into his leonine muzzle, approached the panting pair. Korvre, still atop his conquered plastic spire, beamed with pride, wiggling and hopping from side to side triumphantly, while Torajin, slick with sweat and his own cum, just stared at his junk.


"We have a winner!" Mange exclaimed, gesturing to Korvre, who gleefully flexed his arms to show off his muscles, happily accepting the cheers and leers from the gathered onlookers. 


"And we have a loser," Mange said, gesturing to Tora. The feline was struggling not to convulse, his body tingling all over with his first anal orgasm, his mouth not working in any meaningful way as his brain roiled with the sensation.  "Hey, don't feel bad, we're all built different. You didn't win, but you certainly seemed to enjoy yourselves. Lemme give you a paw there," Mange purred, his voice rich with thick amusement. Tora offered his hand, but Mange wasn't talking about getting Tora off of the cone; he reached past the hand, and wrapped his hand around the feline's straining equipment. "Hey, wow, you are hard as a rock!"


The crowd tittered with laughter as Tora blushed, not expecting to have been handled so openly, his body still in the middle of his public orgasm.


"It's okay-" he started to say, but Mange wasn't finished helping him out.


"Let's just claim our prize," the lion muttered, as he pulled a black flat piece of metal from the brim of his hat. He thumbed it open, revealing a sharp, small silver blade. Tora felt the lion's fingers tighten around the bulk of his heavy testicles, and the root of his solid erection, as the blade lowered towards his package.


"Wait-" Tora managed to stammer out, but Mange had no interest in waiting. The blade pressed into the flesh of the root of his cock, sawing smooth and solidly through the warm flesh. The sensation of his equipment burning and then going numb, shifting from pleasure to nothingness, had the tiger's feets splayed and toes clenching, and after a too-brief five seconds, the lion was holding up the stolen goods.


"Can't wait, I gotta start the next round!" The lions said, holding Tora's cock and balls in one hand. He bounced it in his palm, the genitals flopping rubbery and lifelessly between his fingers. "This is nice though, good prize, nice package for a lion!" He playfully booped the oozing, cum-stained glans against Tora's stunned muzzle, the tiger instinctively licking up over the salty smear that remained on his nose. "You should be impressed!"


Korvre burst out laughing, pointing at the tiger's stunned expression and his denuded groin.  "Oh my god, I can't believe you just lost your fucking junk over a ringtoss game!" He made grabby paws at Mange. "Oh please, PLEASE tell me that HIS dick is MY prize!"


"Oh, no, you'd have to win like five rounds to take this bad boy home!" Mange chortled. "Here, you can pick out your actual prize from over here." 


Mange stood on the base of the cone, so that as Korvre stood back up, it was able to draw himself up off of the hollow rubber cone with a wet shlorping sound. He stumbled for a second, grinning widely and giving another flex for the cheering crowd. 


"Sergals RULE, tigers DROOL!" he said, not bothering to look down as Mange crouched down in front of him.


"Just lemme get at these for a sec-" Mange said, as he gathered up the sergal's fat scrotum, lifting his heavy unspent balls up to the underside of the sergal's red, knotted, eager dick. 


The severance was as sudden as lightning cleaving a tree—sharp, precise, catastrophic. Korvre's virile masculinity, being admired by the onlookers, was carved off as easily as a piece of rump roast. The severance was so quick, so savage, that at first Korvre didn't understand what had happened, looking down to see his equipment no dangling from the lion's grip. 


"WHAT?!" Korvre shouted, a guttural cry tearing from his throat as blood painted his thighs the same crimson hue as the painted sign over the carnival game booth. His knees buckled, his world tilting askew. 


"Look at this!" Mange roared over the din, lifting the severed jewels high for all to see. Tora's was in his right hand, and Korvre's was in his left. He waggled them, and the flesh glistened under the garish lights, their size of the two emasculated men's packages now a perverse spectacle. The crowd, swept up in the Charnival's spirit, jeered and whistled, cheering for the two men's loss.


Mange tossed the two stolen packages into a bucket under the counter that Tora and Korvre had balanced on, the two severed hunks of testicle and dick thunking wetly into a pile of other freshly stolen packages. 


"But I won," Korvre whined, fingering at the gash where his balls and cock had been. "This isn't fair! Only the loser should be castrated, right?!"


He was interrupted by a plastic bag being stuffed into your hands. 


"Naw, man, the winner wins a prize, and the loser wins nothing - getting your junk lopped off is just a free service I provide," Mange said. The water had a small plastic fish floating in it, swirling with the water as it was swished back and forth. "And here's your prize, champ!"


Korvre's nostrils flared, taking in the acrid scent of blood mingled with the sickly sweetness of cotton candy that wafted through the air. Rage simmered beneath the sting of humiliation, but it was a fire without fuel. Without the balls and cock that made him a male, he was just a neutered dickless buttboy! The sergal groaned in defeat, holding up the bag and glaring at its contents. 


"What the fuck, this is a dick?"


It was true; there was a small blue dildo floating in the water, bobbing happily around, about the size of a goldfish. Korvre stared at Mange, his head spinning, the facts not computing. 


The crowd's laughter burrowed into his flesh like carrion crows feasting upon the carrion of his defeat. He helped Tora up, both of them quiet now, both of them stumbling out of the booth with as much of their dignity as they could muster, despite having blood and cum oozing down their thighs, despite being completely naked and unable to hide the total emasculation that they had just undergone. Behind them, two rams started to climb up onto the counter, each one sure that they'd be able to win.


"I still won," Korvre said, trying to put a hint of bravado in his voice. He held up the bag, showing off the pitiful little floating dildo inside to the tiger, who scowled at it with a sour look on his face.


"Won?" Torajin snorted, turning to spit on the ground. "You call having your manhood sheared off 'winning'?" His tail flicked in annoyance.


"Well, I mean," Korvre managed a hint of a chuckle. "We both got our manhood sheared off. At least I got a cool little toy to play with."


"Oh, well, yeah, in that case, you won," Tora said. He shook his head. "And you're an idiot."


Korvre grimaced. "Yeah. Man, this prize sucks. Hey, you want, like... a corn dog or something?"


The two emasculated men looked around, smelling something tasty in the air. Meat sizzled on a grill somewhere, somewhere close. Tora spotted the food truck first, patting Korvre's shoulder and pointing. "Hey, 'calf fries'. You like french fries, right? They even have a poutine option!"


"Mmm, i loooove poutine!" Korvre drooled. They walked up to the vendor, where a bear was serving up spears of deep fried delicacies. "Let's get some - it will help take our minds off of things."


"Sounds good," Tora said. They ordered and received their paper plates full of greasy steaming meat with cheese sauce on top, and sat gingerly down to enjoy their snacks. "You know, Korvre.. it sucks I lost my junk... but if I lost my junk, I'm glad you lost yours, too." He grinned.


"Thanks, asshole," Korvre snorterd wryly. He bit into the calf fry, his face distorting in confusion. "Wait, are these... meat?"


"Best not to ask," Tora grinned, and the two friends laughed. 
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