So it was kind of a cold day when the four friends met up. Chad was the first to arrive, of course, the lithe, lanky spotted cat pacing agitatedly in front of the run down looking adult boutique. He had on a big, poofy gray coat, and a thick burgundy scarf that looked to be knotted around his neck. It swelled the otherwise slim figure of the feline out to that of a walrus, and the weaving, unprotected tail that lashed about behind him seemed more like the tail of an errant balloon than the appendage of such a master plotter.

	Stephen was the second to arrive, stepping out of the cab, and then stepping up, stretching, up up up! The black and white mottled horse was tall, broad, a heavy brawler kind of dude. He was wearing a muscle shirt, even in this cold weather, with a jaunty ski cap over his ears for protection. He strode over to the cat, hands shoved in the pockets of his thick workman’s pants, tail flicking behind him.

	“Cat! what’s up, little guy?” he asked, his words pushing through the frozen steam that settled from his lips as he talk.

	“Oh, it’s just, it’s something I really thought we should take a look at.” Chad seemed breathless with anticipation. “Especially you, Stephen!” The horse canted his head at the emphasis, tail flicking behind him as he glanced over the cheetah’s head to the store behind him.

	“Especially me... what, is this about Lincoln’s girlfriend again? I asked you to keep that a -secret-, dude, you know it was an accident and I was drunk-”

	“When are you NOT drunk?” asked a brightly garmented figure as they pedalled up. A bicycle helmet was pulled away, and a thick, poofy white mane fluffed out into a liony afro. The bicycle was locked, the helmet attached, and the white furred, red eyed lion plodded up to his friends as he brushed and patted his thick white mane down into place.

	Stephen laughed, giving the albino lion a playful push at the shoulder. “Oh, hey Lincoln, we were just talking about you!”

	“Yeah, I just bet you were,” the lion sniffed. He glanced around, then socked Stephen in the crotch. “HA! That’s for jerking off in my bathroom, you pervert!”

	Stephen groaned, doubling over and grabbing his achers. “The fuck you talking about?”

	Lincoln smirked. “I found your cum rag in my bathroom. Seriously, man, you think anyone else could soak an entire bathtowel?” He shakes his head, and after Stephen stood back up, gave him another sock in the knockers. The big horse doubled over again. “What, won’t Foster let you have any alone time?”

	Chad was blushing. He was, glad, Very glad, that he had worn the long, thickly padded coat today. It helped hide that bulge he was getting, watching the lion slap the horse around. Normally, Stephen would have socked anyone who would be so arrogant towards him, but ever since ‘the incident’, he had been willing to let Lincoln do just about anything. Guilty consciences are a wonderful thing!

	“Hey guys!” the last member of the quartet had arrived. Dressed in sleek, but warm, dark clothing, the rodent slid between Stephen and Lincoln, having to get on his tiptoes to get his arms around either’s shoulders. It was Foster, the smallest and most ottery of the group, and the fossa leaned to give both of the other fellas a whiskery smooch on their cheeks. “What’s up guys? Oh! Stephen, when are you going to introduce me to your new girlfr-OOF!”

	Stephen glared at the fossa, who slumped down, rubbing at his own aching balls and glowering back at the big horse.

	“Girlfriend?” Lincoln asked, suddenly intrigued. “I didn’t know you even swung that way, Stephen. When did you-”

	“Guys!” Chad chirped up, “We’re not here to talk about who we’re all banging.” He paused, pushing his jacket down over the front of his pants. He cleared his throat. “Actually, that’s the reason we’re here, but not what I’m here to talk about. There’s something in here I wanna show you guys.”

	The three other guys looked up at the faded sign over the front of the store.

	“Wolfie’s Wild and Wacky.” said Foster. He squinted, head tilting to the side. “Wolfie’s Wild and Wacky? Wild and wacky what?”

	“It’s supposed to be ‘Wild and Wacky Porn Emporium’, but it was too obscene to have next to City Hall, so it’s just...” the cheetah gestured to it. “Anyways the name doesn’t matter, come on in, I’ll -show- you what’s cool about it.”

	The four dudes headed into the store, and the door closed behind them, a gust of wind blowing some old, dead leaves down the street.

	Inside, they found themselves surrounded by what appeared to be your generic, sleazy, skeezy, skanky porn store. Dildoes hung from yellowed plastic containers, some of which appeared to have been used, and then re-stapled closed. Some of the lube containers were half empty, some crusted and sticky with hairs. It was the kind of place that shouted “Herpes, Herpes, Herpes!” in a monster truck rally announcementy voice. Chad led the group past the service counter, where a chubby badger glanced up from his “Dykes in Bondage” to grunt at them.

	“So.. what is it you wanted to show us,” Lincoln said, shrinking away from a vibromatic sex sleeve.

	“It’s riiight over here.” Chad led them through a black curtained doorway, into the ‘special’ room. More interesting things lay about, here, with one wall covered in all sorts of ‘potions’ and pills to grow your penis, increase your stamina, guarantee pregnancy, fall in love, anything you might expect to find in your typical new age store. Just triple x rated.

	Chad ignored all of those, though, scooting right over to a dingy display case, nothing more than a board set up on some cinder blocks. There was a paper bag there, with a stamped order form in Chad’s name.

	“Awesome, they’re here. I was a little worried, you know?” The cheetah ripped open the bag, as the fossa squinted suspiciously at a line of Tiger Brand ball stretchers.
	
	“These things look dangerous,” he murmured, but Chad waved him off, holding up his prize. Four shiny metallic looking clamps, all open, all about two inches wide or so, the size of your average bracelet.

	“Here, guys, put these on.”

	He was met by blank stares.

	“Put them on... where?” The stallion finally asked.

	“Oh! ha ha, my bad. Around your junk. They’re cock rings.”

	“I don’t need any cockrings,” Lincoln said, testily, arms folding over his chest. “I have no problem getting it up all on it’s own.”

	“Well, yeah, but these don’t just GET you up. Come on, here, I’ll show you. Drop your pants, all of you.”

	Foster’s interest was immediate, coming to join the others, even licking his lips. “What’s this now?” He glanced over to Stephen, ears tinting red. Lincoln noticed, and laughed.

	“Okay, Chad, so what is this, you want to see us naked or something?”

	“Link, you know I could see you naked if I -wanted- to, I have all your exes’ numbers and I know exactly what you did to piss them off! Just put it on.” When no volunteers seemed to be forthcoming, he sighed, and threw his hads up in the air. “Here, I’ll go first.” Chad pushed his pants down, and his slender, barbed cheetah shaft sprung up against his belly. It was reddish at it’s thicker base, and light pink, nearly white, at the tapering tip, and the barbs along it were a grapefruit-juice color. Stephen and Lincoln’s eyes went so wide, Chad had to laugh. He grabbed his cock by the base, waggling at the two shocked straight boys.

	“Come on, guys, it’s just my dick.” He took one of the clamps, casually, and wrapped it around the root of his package. He pinched the two ends together, like a pair of handcuffs, and they locked, with a solid click. His tight, fluffy furred balls poked out from just under his erection, which was already leaking a bit down it’s underside.

	“Ah. Okaaaaaay,” Foster said, head canting to the side. “So it’s a cock ring. You brought us all here to show us, a cock ring. Really, Chad? I mean, I knew you were weird, but-”
	
	Chad took the end of the metal ring between two fingers, and twisted it slightly. There was another clicking sound, and the cock ring split in two, leaving the cheetah holding one half, the other half smooth against his groin. Where his junk should have jutted out, from the ring at his groin, there was only a smooth metallic plane, completely solid, Said junk was dangling from his hand, the one holding half of the ring, and the other three dudes gasped as they saw it.

	“Huh-ho-holy SHIT man! You just ripped off your dick!!” Stephen said, taking a step backwards automatically. Chad waggled his dick and balls around, before his astounded friends.

	“It’s not really gone! I can still feel it,” he paused, lookig at his shaft, which twitched and blobbed out another drip of precum. “See? Totally still there. Man that’s weird. Oh! And look -” He moved his disembodied groin back to his crotch, connecting the two rings. With a little twist, and another click, he let it go and his cock bobbed and throbbed from his groin once more. Lincoln’s dubious stare made him give his cock a stroke, shuddering as he strummed his barbs. “See? Completely reversible. It’s some sort of portal like technology.”

	“Like in star gate?” asked Foster.

	“Yeah, like in Star Gate. Or in Portal!” He grinned, and removed it again. “Here!” he said, tossing it to Foster. The fossa squeaked, hands movig up and instinctively catching it, and then, just as instinctively, he jumped back, dumping the warm, slippery cat-crotch onto the cold floor.

	“AGH!” Chad crumpled over, hands moving to his crotchless groin. Having your cock and balls fall three feet onto a tiled floor was like being kicked in the nuts. He curled up, rolling onto his side and whimpering.

	Lincoln and Stephen began to laugh.

	“Okay, that has to be real, then!” Lincoln snickered. “Good one, Foster! You got him Good.”

	Foster smiled weakly. “It -twitched- when I grabbed it, man. It -twitched-.” He shuddered.

	Chad slowly got back onto his feet, rubbing over the smooth disc at the spot where his junk used to hang. “Not funny, dudes.” He picked his equipment off the ground, scowling at Foster, and put it delicately on the table. Then, he took the other three cockrings and pushed each one into one of his friend’s paws. Foster took it, examining it closely, Lincoln just held it like a dead fish, and Stephen actually tried to refuse it, before Chad threatened to wrap it around his wrist! He held it out, as if afraid it would bite him.

	“I know you guys are worried that it’s something bad or something, but it’s not like it runs on batteries or anything. It’s a simple physical force - like magnets and gravity - that’s being exploited by the ring. You can walk through metal detectors and go swimming and everything else, it’s not going to affect it.”

	“So what are you thinking, exactly?” Foster asked. He was playing with his, opening and closing it.
	
	“Just over the last couple months I’ve noticed that you guys are just, I mean -we- are all thinking with our dicks too much. I Think it would be really good therapy for us to not have them for a while. Just put them on the back burner, you know? Start making decisions with our GOOD heads. So I Thought, how could we do this? We’d have to be like, a support team for each other. We’d all have to be doing the same thing. But how would we know if we were doing it, or not? I mean, I could say, “oh yeah, lincoln, I feel for ya, this sucks” but, if I’m getting my knob slobbed on the side, it’d make things even WORSE. And I know we’re all best buds, and we don’t want to ruin that, do we?” Chad paused, just for a second. His friends were listening to him, but Lincoln and Stephen both seemed... reluctant.

“So I was thinking, we ALL use these things, right? All of us, and theeeen... I’d hide everything in a safe place. Just for three weeks. That’s how long they say it takes to rid yourself of a bad habit. Three weeks isn’t so long, really.” He smiled as brightly as he could. “So three weeks, and then we’ll meet back up and see what you think.”

	“Safe place?” Stephen asked. “I think the only safe place -mine- are going to be is between my legs!”

	“No, man, I have been planning for this, I converted my old terrarium into a cock-tank! It’s totally legit! They’ll get washed twice a day, even moisturized, and santized, and kept safe from bugs and all sorts of stuff. It’ll be like a little cock-vacation!”

	“Yeah, but, I mean, why? I don’t really need to have my junk missing,” Lincoln said, slowly.

	“Actually, Lincoln, yes you do!” The lion gaped. “I mean, you’re always talking about how hard it is for you to last with your girlfriends...” Chad shot Stephen a look as the horse started to snicker. “... not being able to get off with them would help you learn some self control.”

	“But.. why would I want to have sex with them, if I can’t fuck them?” the lion gruffed, irritably.

	“That’s exactly what you need to find out!!” Chad said, and Foster nodded in agreement.

	“Actually, Chad has a point, you’re a great guy, but if you lasted  longer than ten seconds once you got in, you’d probably be much more of a hit with the ladies.” the fossa explained.

	The lion blushed. “Well. I mean. Jeez guys, I’m a lion, we’re used to going all night. Just not all at once!” Reluctantly, though, he started undoing his pants. “Are you sure this is safe?”

	“Of course I’m sure, Linky-babe! And Foster, You were complaining just yesterday that you were worried you were going to fail your math final because you spent all weekend jerking off.”

	Foster tsked, foldig his arms over his chest. he watched as Lincoln stepped out of his pants, then shrugged. “You’re right, actually. Okay! Fine, I’ll try it.” His pants joined Chad’s and Lincoln’s on the floor.

	Stephen shook his head and turned towards the door. “Fuck this, you guys are -crazy-.”

	“Stephen, you need this most of all. You know how impulsive you are, with the girls. I mean, wouldn’t you -hate- it, if you wound up doing something really stupid?”
	
	The stallion froze, before turning back to Chad, mouth open. “Wha-... you wouldn’t...”

	Chad smirked, evil twinkles in his eyes. “Wouldn’t I? I think it’s best for you if you do it too, Stephen, because I’d -hate- to think what would happen if word got around what you were doing in your spare time.”

	Lincoln guffawed. “Stephen, you been playing the field? Who with? Chad, you gotta tell me, who’s he banging -now-?”

	Chad grinned. “I can’t tell, I was sworn to secrecy... and this is my price for that secrecy!”

	Stephen grimaced, and started to undo his pants. “Fine, Chad. I’ll do it. Consider yourself OFF my Christmas list, though.”

	The four guys crowded closer together, checking each other out, as straight guys are wont to do. It was curiosity more than anything else. Lincoln had a thicker, meatier package than Chad, his balls a little puffier,and fluffier, his cock less barbed but wider in bulk. It was an even deep pink from tip to base, and had the healthy glow of a penis that got action regularly.

	“Whoa, Foster, are you part cat or something??” he asked the fossa, who grinned impishly as he pulled his stiffie up to show it off. It was a bizarre looking penis, looking basically like a queen chess piece, only with two knot-like, barbed bulges, spaced a quarter and halfway down the shaft from the root. He was a good bit longer than Chad, maybe nine inches in total, and thinner as well, except for those plug-like knotbulbs.

	Stephen was, of course, the biggest, being a stallion, and his equipment had as much meat in it as the other three males combined. His cock was pink and black, dappled like the rest of him, and lay perched atop two fist sized boulders, sagging and thick and wrinkled and musky. The other three couldn’t stop staring at it. It lolled meatily out, half-asleep, the three predators feeling their own cocks thicken and tighten up a bit. Even lincoln, the straightest arrow of the bunch, kept glancing at his bud’s big ole dick.

	“Dudes. You’re being gay,” the horse finally said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “You guys gonna clip yourselves? Or what?”

	“Oh!” Foster broke the gaze first, turning his attention back to his own groin. “Yeah, right. Sorry.” He wrapped the shackle around his crotchmeat, clicking it closed. “I don’t know how to-”

	“Just grip the end and twist it clockwise.” *click* “Yup! Just like that.”

	“Oh my fucking god.” Foster stared at his disembodied equipment, hanging from his hand like some sort of sick trophy. “I just... wait, I mean, I can... wow, I can still feel it...”

	Chad nodded, looking expectantly to Lincoln. “Come on, stud, you can do it, too. It’s going to be good for you.”

	Lincoln looked at the ring, and sighed. He crushed his eyes closed, as he wrapped it around his hefty thickness, when it clicked, he twitched all over. He stayed froze like that, hunched, eyes scrunched shut, as if waiting to be spanked or shot.

	“You’re so silly, Lincoln!” Chad stepped forward, and before the straight cat could protest, wrapped his own fingers around his bud’s warm, soft maleness. He pulled, slightly, and with his other hand, twisted the ring. Click! The equipment came off, thick and heavy, in his grasp. Lincoln gasped, eyes opening as he stared at his own dick and balls in Chad’s fingers.

	Worse than that, it looked like he was getting erect! That maleness was puffing up just from the act of being held, the healthy pink glow darkening as that maleness, now upside down with two fluffy nuts resting on top of it, swelled in the other feline’s grip..

	“See? That’s not so bad, is it?” Chad gave the bulk of the shaft a squeeze, and Lincoln’s legs trembled. “And that proves you can still feel it, right?” He laid it carefully next to his own.

	“Uh, hey. Wait.” Lincoln finally got his voice back, and walked over, carefully wedging his fingers between his package and Chad’s. He wiggled them apart, then smirked.“Sorry. Balls were touching.” He sheepishly walked back, as Foster put his own next to Lincoln’s, and then all three of them turned at Stephen expectedly.

	The horse had backed almost to the door. “Yeah, guys, I don’t think I’m gonna be doing this,” he said, his face pallid under his dark fur. He turned, then, and almost made it. He had forgotten to take his pants entirely off though - or to pull them back up - and they got tangled around his hooves. A cheetah and a lion piling on top of him sealed the deal, and he went down with a whumph.

	“No! Fuck you guys, I’m not doing it!” he shouted, as Foster sat on his shoulders.

	“It’s for your own good!” Chad said, squirming to push the horse’s legs apart, metal clamp in paw.

	“It is not! I’m not doing it! Screw you, let me up,  I’ll sue! I’ll call the police!”

			*click*

	Stephen elbowed Foster in the side, making the fossa double over. Getting a bit of his bearings, he shoved Lincoln against the new agey display case. Potions and lubes rained down around him as the horse jumped to his feet and ran, pantsless, from the store.

	“Dammit!” Lincoln jumped back to his feet, running to the door ad staring at the horse go. “He’s getting away! Fuck!”

	Chad couldn’t stop laughing, though. The cheetah stood slowly up, and in his hand, warm and quivering, was a whole lot of horse junk. It was heavy, so much more heavy than the other males, and he snickered as he wobbled it back and forth for the others to see. “Let him get away! The further he gets before he realizes what he ‘left behind’ the more likely I am to get this safely to the safe house!” He opened up his backpack, then, and carefully coiled the horse’s cock at the bottom of it, the two fat nuts perched atop. Using it as a pillow, he dropped the other three packages on top, before zipping the bulging backpack up and shouldering it on his slender shoulders..

	Lincoln was helping brush the sparkle body paint and jack-fruit flavored nipple-paste from the fossa. He watched as Chad adjusted the backpack, shifting himself as he felt his cock and balls... nestled... against his buddies. Foster was blushing, himself. “Dude, are you gettig hard? I can feel something poking one of my balls.”

	“That might be me,” Chad said, apologetically. “I cant’ help it. It’s... heh, warm.” 
	Foster nodded, reaching down and rubbing between his legs. “You should get home fast, I’m going to be really embarrassed if I pop a load from rubbing junk against y’alls.”

	Chad laughed, and the three walked to the front of the store, after getting their clothes back on. Lincoln cleared his throat. “So you’re going to put them in the aquarium?”

	“Yeah! Come by later today, it’ll be all set up. OH! and I am gonna have to handle your equipment, of course but I promise not to let anything weird happen. Just bathing it and rolling it over so it doesn’t get any rashes or blisters or whatnot. If I want to use a dildo, I’ll use one, I respect you guys. You trust me, right?” The lion and fossa nodded.

	“Well, I hope this works out,” Foster said, rubbing at his lack of bulge through his pants, “I really REALLY need to pass my exam this next week.”

	Lincoln grumbled. “I’m not sure about this, Chad. I don’t know -how- I’m going to explain it to Charlene.”

	Chad laughed. “Don’t even worry about it, Lincoln. You’ll be fine. I’ll see you guys later!” he said, hopping on his bike, and with a wave, he headed out.

	That had gone MUCH easier than he had expected!!

	Chad didn’t go home after his meetup with the crew. No, for what he had planned, he had to make sure that none of his friends could find him.  Not easily, anyways. He had planned a very, Very long time for this. He had known for months that his sister would be on her honeymoon for the next week or so, and had eagerly volunteered to house sit for her and her pets. None of his friends knew where she lived, or even her name, so as he pulled into her driveway he was feeling like a liberated prisoner. They were his. ALL  his.

	He hadn’t even planned on snagging Stephen’s, really, he had written it off as too risky, but after the horse had drunkenly confessed to bonking Lincoln’s puma gal, he just -couldn’t- say no at that point, could he? It was like fate had designed it this way! He stepped into the house, sauntering past the army of barking jumping pawing dogs, an entire sled team of huskies it would seem.

	“Now now, boys, it’s good to see you too but I have things to do right now!”

	He sauntered his way through the seething swarm, giving one or two of them head rubs and pats as he made his way to the kitchen. They crowded him, barking, sniffing at his backpack, pawing at his sides.

	“Oh, you guys are just ornery today, aren’t you?? That’s okay, I have a special treat for you!”

	He unshouldered his bag, sliding it off of his back and onto the kitchen counter with a heavy thump. He winced, then, curling slightly, for his nuts had slid to the side, and just sliding it off his back had pinched at them. He smirked though, for Stephen was probably doubled over right now. He’d have to call the big guy later and taunt him. He opened up the bag, grinning to the dogs that crowded around him, a dozen curious noses snuffling at what lay packed inside that backbag.

	“Let’s see, have you been good puppies? Hmm? Do you deserve a special treeeeat?” Howls acknowledged that they were, indeed, the -best- puppies Chad had ever come across, would ever come across, COULD ever come across. “Oh you aaaare, huh?” He grinned and plucked that bumpy, boney fossa prick out of the bag, and held it over his head, dangling it over the sniffing whining mutts. He could just imagine Foster’s face as he felt the foreign hands handling his equipment. Something dripped on his head. He frowned, looking up, and closed his eye just in time as another sticky blob of ... he could only imagine... dripped onto him. Ugh! The fossa -had- cum, just from the ride home? He frowned and brought the disembodied cock back down and  gave one of those tight, rounded balls a  pinch. The cock flexed, still hard, even congealed in sperm as it was. Hmph! He was gonna have fun with this!

	The dogs seemed to think so too, trying to climb over each other to get to the cheetah’s treat!

	“Now now, boys, I have other plans for this!” he grinned, and turned away. A colander hanging on the wall was put in the sink, and he laid the fossa package into it, balls in the middle with the tip facing out, poking over the tip. The dogs argued the decision, one of them even fussing with his ankles.

“Bad dog! Well you’re definitely not getting any treats Now..” He reached back into the bag, fingers finding something thick and soft an heavy. He lifted, and fingers slid along smooth flesh, until he found a bulging tip, which, lifting, unreeled Stephen’s long, fat, ‘dropped’ horsecock from his backpack. Chad was pleased to see that as the horse had dropped, his inches had come through the ‘portal’ - or whatever it was - unscathed, and he smiled at how the base of the horse’s cock bulged as it narrowed to the metal ring at it’s base. He gave the horse’s nuts a rub, noting how they felt somewhat cooler than he would have expected. Cooler, and very, very slimy. Foster’s cocktip must have been nestled between them. Chad smirked at the thought of the big horse being helpless as his horny fossa bud’s cock jerked off using his own balls as cleavage. He felt along them, up to where the clip pinched along them. They were probably being pinched a bit, the cock ring just a little too small for so much meat. 

“Don’t worry, Stephen, that is an easily remediable problem.” He thought - just for a second - of flinging the horse’s dick over his shoulder, like some cast off clippings from a rotten vegetable. Oh, how the dogs would fight over -that- succulent treat! Chad had plans for this horse cock, though, -big- plans.
 He lowered those fat nuts into the colander, the heavy hanging fruit completely covering Foster’s own plump plums, and that long length of hose coiling neatly over top. It looked like a big, sleeping snake.

He reached in again, and jumped! as he felt fingers in his pants! It took a bizarre few seconds of mental self adjustment to realize that the hot, slippery, hard cat cock he had wrapped his fingers around in the backpack was his own. He pulled it up, out of the bag, and looked at it.

 It was his cock all right, proudly stiff, barbs flexed, the tip of it sticky with his precum. It brought a blush to his ears. He had been excited, yes, and the feeling of all of his bud’s cocks, all detached, all nestled against each other in his backpack, Had made him stiffer yet. As he thought, though, about what he was going to -do- with those various packages, though, the cock twitched in his paw, and a warm blob of almost white precum drooled slowly down the underside of it. He had never seen his own cock so close and personal before. He was tempted, tempted to lick it, to taste it. He wanted to see how it would fit in his own muzzle. 

That would be a bad idea though. Best not to push things too far, just yet. That could wait. He put it carefully on top of Stephen’s, even lifting up the horse’s bulbous cap and draping it over his own warm package, shivering as he felt the blanket like warm, loose heaviness of the stallion’s flesh weighing down on top of his own.

Lastly was Lincoln’s, the fatter, thicker, warmer lion package crusted with drooled fossa jizz as well. The cap was bared, the spines along the tip bulging out, though the shaft itself was not hard. Just sort of there, not retracted and not erect. It was warm in his grasp, the flesh gently throbbing with the lion’s heartbeat. He caressed, stroking fingers along that half-swollen bared cock, feeling it pudge instinctively. Heh.

He put it down, on the other side of Stephen’s flare, and then turned on the faucet. The water gurgled into the other sink, and Chad waited until it was nice and warm - but not too warm - before taking the dish sprayer and squeezing the handle. The retractably-hosed nozzle spit water out, over the colander full of disembodied man parts, and Chad instinctively twitched as he felt the cold feeling water wash over his balls. 

Fussing, he turned the heat up, just a bit, and sighed as the water reacted. It was strange. The water rushing along his equipment, but nowhere else on his body, just hot wet rinsing soothing water. The cocks were reacting to it, as well. 

In a surreal, almost horrific way, the four cocks shifted as the water washed over them. Stephen’s cock unfurled, pushing it’s broad cap against Chad’s balls, grinding them against the side of the colander, before bulldozing up over the rim. Lincoln’s balls tightened, and Foster’s cock straightened out, aiming upwards almost defiantly. 

Then he smelled the pee, as almost at the same time, all three of his friend’s began urinating. Chad realized that he, too, had to pee, but he was so astounded watching the severed packages flop and stretch and leak that he couldn’t even bring himself to try. He hosed down the dribbling tips, washing the urine down the sink, and after a bit, he got his free hand in there. Picking up Lincoln’s heavy equipment, he began to scour it, bringing the warm rinsing nozzle right up against the flesh and slowly rinsing every last bit of musky salty lion scent from it. 

He realized just afterwards, that he didn’t have anywhere to place it. BAck in his backpack? On the counter? He grimaced, the dogs that were currently fussing about in the living room would be way too easily able to snag a treat from there. Ah!

Carefully, balls first, Lincoln’s now-hard package was draped into the dishrack. Water drooled from it, tickling down over the black plastic and back into the sink. It looked a bit awkward, but it worked!

He washed his own, next, purrring as the hot water thrummed against his balls, scouring down into his sheath, douching into his cockslit. He felt himself hardeing, watched as his cock got stiff and solid, just like the others, and then he carefully placed it next to Lincoln’s in the rack.

Stephen’s was next, and rather than lifting it up to hold, Chad draped all two feet of arm-thick horse cock  in the sink. It was springy-firm, not quite able to coil up, but springy enough to keep mostly straight. 

“Dirty, dirty horse,” Chad muttered, as he grasped just below the glans and pinned it to the side. Distantly, he felt his cell phone buzzing and vibrating in his pocket. No doubt someone or another had something to say with this rather intimate cleaning process. Stephen’s cock was pinned as the long, sticky, tacky shaft was washed, scrubbed with the scouring water. 

His phone buzzed again, and exasperated, Chad let the sprayer go, the normal faucet resuming it’s heavy pouring, the warm water splattering down and between the stallion’s balls. Chad wiped his free hand off on his shirt, still holding Stephen’s cock by the cap, and reached into his pocket and pulled his iMeow out. 

“Ah. Lincoln. What’s up, bro?” Chad grinned, glancing over to where the lion’s junk lay drying on the dish rack.

“Dude, uh, what the fuck are you doing?” Lincoln’s breath seemed raspy, hoarse even. It made Chad’s ears perk forward with intrigue.

“Just washing your equipment.”

“Ooooh. Okay.”

“Why? Was the warm water toooo rough?”

“Naw, I mean, I thought it was fine. It’s just... weird. I thought for a second that you were like... licking it, or something. And then I Thought, like, it was hot and wet, and I thought you were peeing on me, you know? And it made me pee, and I just wanted to make sure.”

Chad laughed. “Don’t worry, Lincoln, if I put your dick in my mouth, you’d know. It’s totally all good. I’m just washing Stephen’s big ole dick right now, and... oh, shit!”

“Chad? Chad, what is it?” The cheetah hurriedly put the phone on speaker, putting it on the sink as he turned back to the horse cock. The sink had been filling with water as he had been talking, as one of the horse’s balls had draped over the drain, blocking it.

“Uhh, are you with Stephen, right now?” Chad pulled on the end of the horse’s cock, feeling it thicken, the cap already belling out into a wide flare. There was about four inches of water over the horse’s balls, and Chad was sure that couldn’t feel good.

“No, haven’t seen him since he ran out of the store, but Foster’s here. What?” There was ruffling, as Lincoln murmured to someone, a hand obviously over the speaker. “He says make sure to use hypoallergenetic soap on his dick.”

“Ha, of course. Tell him I’m not going to use Jergen’s hand lotion, if that’s what he’s hoping for.” Chad bit his tongue, then, as he slowly pulled, the ball that was caught stretching, slowly sinking down into the drain. “Ugh, I’m gonna have to call you back, Linky boy, Stephen’s balls are getting caught in the drain.”

Lincoln repeated what he said, apparently to the fossa.

“Tell him to turn on the garbage disposal!” he heard in reply, and Chad smirked. 

“Tell Foster that’s a Greeeeat idea. I’ll have to credit him for that!” and before Lincoln could ask what he meant by that, he ended the call. 

“Turn on the garbage disposal, huh?” He grinned, his paws slipping up along that now quite-firm horse cock, pulling slowly up along it towards the cap that was already seeping clear sticky precum. “That’d be a terrrrible waste, though, wouldn’t it?” 

He grinned, still pulling along that now-straining shaft, a sudden gurgle followed by a rush of water as that ball flopped down, through the drain, and into the space below it. The second ball quickly followed, the rush of water pulling it down and pushing and squeezing it through the drain until they were both gone. Stephen’s cock looked all the world as if it were growing from down inside the sink, the broad base of it jutting up through the hole where the water rushed down past it. 
	Chad glaced to the switch, just on the wall behind the sink. It would be so easy. He found himself reaching forward, for that switch, feeling the plastic poke between his finger tips. All it would take would be a flip of that switch, and-

	Nah.

	Chad pulled back to Stephen’s cock, taking it with both hands and hauling upwards. The rubbery flaps that frame the opening to the garbage disposal bulged outwards, the two fat nuts inside jostling, trying to squeeze past each other to be hauled up and out into the open. He had to reach down, fishing with a finger in between that taut pouch and the metal side of the drain, before he could get one nudged down enough that the other could flop into the hole, from beneath.

	A little wiggling, a little rough tugging, and one, and then the other of those fist-sized horse nuggets were unrealed from the hungry garbage disposal. Chad wagged a finger at the kitchen appliance, tsking at it, as he held the big ole sausage away from it, off to the side. 

	That’s when the dogs attacked! He hadn’t seen one of the huskies had wandered over, and as those big slimy horse eggs flopped and swung, just over the dog’s head, he did what any good boy would do, and made a snatch for them!

	Chad felt the length of tubing suddenly slither through his fingers, the broad cap the only thing from losing it entirely, and he shouted in alarm as he saw what was happening!

	“No! No, mishka, BAD BOY” He scolded, grabbing the horse’s shaft with his other hand, and yanking back. The leathery scrotum tore from the dog’s muzzle, flapping up over Chad’s head and slamming against the wooden cabinet there.

	Several miles away, Stephen, who had been laying on his bed, trying not to think about what the *Fuck* was happening with his junk, curled up in a ball. 

	“AAAUGH! MY BALLS!” He reached for his phone. Fuck this! He was going to get his groin back, this had been a terrible idea!

	Mishka was advancing on Chad again, all happy wagging tail and wiggling husky excitement, as Chad swung the horse cock at her again. 

	“NO! Bad Dog!” Wham! The balls at the end slammed into the side of the fridge, and he swung back, trying to scare the dog off.
	
	His phone was ringing, and Mishka didn’t seem to get the hint, and WHAM! into the front of the dishwasher went Stephen’s cock root and nut-sack. The door to the dishwasher unlocked, flopping open with a CRASH! And Mishka fled the kitchen. 

	“Ha! That’s right, and don’t you forget it, ya scurvy whelp!” Chad taunted, before finally draping the sticky, no-longer-quite-as-erect Stephen package over the other two in the dishrack. He paused, fingers still resting along the root of the horse’s shaft, and frowned. 

	“Hmmm. Is that normal?” It’s not that he expected the cock to lean towards him and respond, of course, but still, there Was something wrong. The horse’s nuts looked funny. They were.. well where they had been about the size of your normal apple, before, they were rounder, now. The whole scrotum looked dark, and there was a nasty looking gash along the front, no doubt where Mishka had bitten into it. Carefully, Chad scooped the two cool, swollen horse nuts into his palm, eyes furrowig as he felt how.. well, inert they were. “Hmmm.” He traced up along the cords, to where the silver clasp was imbedded snugly in the back of the horse’s pouch.

	“Oooh, maybe I should have upped the size for you, Stephen.” he said, as he gently tugged at the scrotal pouch, tugging a little bit more of the horse’s ball-sack through the ring, then feeling against where it bit into the thick, leathery dappled skin of the base of his cock. “Or maybe you shouldn’t be getting quite so hard. Such a naughty stallion. Getting so hard from me playing with your junk.” He teased, but he could tell that the horse’s balls -were- turning dark, being choked off. 

	“Stewwwwpid horses.” He shook his head, then smirked. “I know what’ll get the blood moving again!” he said, and lifted Stephen’s cock baaack out of the dishrack. The cumbersome feet of horse schlong was positioned, the base being pressed against his own groin, and he lined the two disks up. With a Click! they attached, and Chad was able to let go, Stephen’s cock waggling and flopping betwee his own legs.

	It was heavy, and almost immediately he felt a dull ache as the weight of the horse’s shaft and pendulous nuts pulled at the skin that his own ring was hanging from. It was weeeeird. He couldn’t feel the cock, of course, not as if it were his own, but he could feel it bobbing and dipping against his knees, the big balls pushing against his inner thighs, cold and stone-like. He made sure to grind them together, rubbing the two nuts against each other as he wobbled back to the sink and took the last of the cocks out. 

	“Ahh... Foster. Let’s start with you, shaaaaalll me?”

	You see, Chad had some plans for the evening’s dinner A delicious braised loin, with a spicy creme glaze. It was going to be delicious, but it was going to take some preparation. The now very much cleaned fossa cock was plucked from the colander, and cheetah held it in his hands, like a flute. It was warm, shiny, the bulging ‘knots’ fuzzy-spiky like the tip of a lion penis, the whole thing unbelievably, unrealistically foreign seeming to the cheetah. He likes strange, foreign things though. He swirled with it, dancing towards the cupboards-

	-and tripped over the open dishwasher. Banged his shin right up! 

	“You stupid piece of garbage!” Chad fumed, rubbing at his shin, before taking the door of the dishwasher and slamming it closed. “Remind me to set you to SELF CLEAN later!” he retorted, before going back to caressing the shaft in his hand. “Now, where was I, oh yes.. hello, my scrumptious litt-OOF!”

	Chad had turned away from the dish washer, and almost stepped away when he felt a terrible YANK at his groin, a twitch sounded in the dishwasher as the cheetah’s shaft flopped around. He looked down.

	“Oh, for the love of Condoleeza Rice..” There, jutting out from the top of the dishwasher, was about a foot of horse cock. It must have gotten caught, of course. Chad winced at the way the flesh was bulging at the place where the door met the rest of the machine - it seemed as though the flesh was crimped pretty damn narrow. He fiddled with the door, unlatching it, and pulled the now kinked horse hose out from inside it.

	“This is going to take some getting used to.” His phone was ringing again. Chad had better things to do than to answer it, but he glanced over to see if it was Stephen. It wasn’t! It was Torrie, his roommate. That would mean Stephen had gone to the house to get his junk back. Chad, to a degree, regretted forgetting to telling Torrie to stay away from the house for a few days. In part because he didn’t want the bat telling the other boys anything that might lead them here, and in part because... well... Stephen had a Hell of a stompin’ hoof. Oh well.

	Chad rubbed at the dented crimp in the middle of the horse cock, stroking it gently and feeling it slowly begin to fill back out. Good, good. He would take a closer look at it later. For now!

	The cupboard was opened up, and from inside he pulled free a MixMaster Blender Pro 3000. It was stainless steel, guaranteed to chop, process, and puree Anything, even ice cubes. It had been his wedding gift to his sister, though he hadn’t told her at the time that he had had any plans with it. That would have been awkward.

	The blender was placed on the counter, and he filled the blending receptacle about three quarters of the way full with warm water, and secured it back onto the base of the blender. It was a solid, heavy thing, with a weighted base to keep it from accidentally falling over, should it be bumped or whatnot. He put the lid on top, and pressed some of the buttons. Pulse made the water jump up the sides, almost to the tip, in erratic twitches. Stir made a pleasant looking vortex. Puree was what he wanted, though. The water formed into a whirlpool almost immediately, the air-cone dipping almost all the way to the four bent spinning metal blades. Perfect.

	He took Foster’s cock, the long, narrow tip threaded through the hole in the lid. Down it went, already springing hard and solid as he pushed it down through the lid, and he smirked as it Twitched, as the tip pressed down into swirling warm vortex. He peered, threading another inch down into it, and then another, the first barbed knot kissing against the surface of the swirling water. Chad let the shaft go, crouching down, kneeling and staring as the blender-vortex swirled and puuuuuullled against that straining pink flesh. It caressed, pulling inexorably, stroking and caressing and seeming to suckle that long narrow cock further and further into it’s sliding grip.

	Across town, Lincoln had Torrie pinned down to the floor, and a dishevelled, sweat-crusted Stephen had one cereal bowl sized hoof on top of the bat’s grapefruit, grinding them down into the cozy hardwood floor of Chad’s shared living room. “Tell us where they are, Fruit! Bat!” Stephen fumed, drool foamy as it dripped from his jaws.

	“I sweeear, I don’t knoooooow, I thought he was at woooooorrrrrrk!” squealed the bat, wiggling and trying to protect his massive family jewels. “Please be careful! I’m the last in my line!”

	Foster, standing next to them, chirped, his paws moving to his crotch. “Uh, Guys... I feel something... kind of weird... going on... oh, fuck....” He moved to the couch, sitting down, his hips flexing up into the air a bit. “Fuck, what iiiiiis that??”

	That was the Stir function, and it was siphoning water over the fossa’s erection at a smooth, stead rate. The little silver ring was nestled against the lid of the blender, now, pulled taut against it by the drawing against the fossa’s bulging cock. The tip was an inch from the blades that were trying so, so hard to trim back Foster’s maleness. It was a perfect fit. Chad was pleased. 

	“We’ll just let you hang out there for a bit, Foster, hope you can hold out,” he murmured, as he turned back to the dish rack. There were two feline sets there, and he gathered each of them in his hand, before skipping out of the room. Each skip, of course, had his knee banging against the ‘dented’ part of the horse’s cock, but meh, what of it?

	Into the guest room he went, with a warm floppy catcrotch in either paw. Onto the bed he flopped, on his back, and he held them up to the dim light. Lincoln’s was definitely heavier, the lion’s bulky sheath covering the length of his shaft. Wait, what’s that?

	There was a little slip of paper peeking out from the rim of the bit of metal around the base of Lincoln’s groin. He carefully put his own cock n balls on the pillow next to him, and peeled the bit of paper free, pulling it out and staring at it.

	“WE WANT THEM BACK” it read, in Lincoln’s handwriting. Chad smirked. 

	“Maybe after dinner, boys.” he said, and flicked it to the side. 

	Then he ate Lincoln’s cock.

	Well, not ate, so much as tasted. It was a handsome shaft, for sure, and Chad had always been curious what it would taste like. It was clean, for the most part, the sheath still damp, the balls still relaxed and loose from the washing. He dipped them into his mouth, holding his cock up and mouthing, slurping and gnawing at those heavy lion eggs. They were awfully fuzzy. Much fuzzier than his own! He reached over, grabbing his own package, feeling fingers wrap around his cock. He lifted it up, and pushed the two of them together, smooshing the sheaths together like some sort of taco.

	“Let’s play a game, Lincoln. I’m gonna suck and slurp these two cocks in my hand. Whichever one cums first, I’ll let go.” He smirks. His own cock was hot in his hand, whereas Lincoln’s was... not so much. It was soft, as if afraid, and even though it was fatter than Chad’s, the slender handsome cheetah shaft towered over the wilted lion one. He brought them both to his mouth.

	Two rubbery dicks, both coated in spines, rested on his tongue. He slurped on them, letting his fingers of each hand slide down to rub and grip and squeeze those two fat nutsacks. 

	It was hot sucking on Lincoln, but it was just as hot sucking on himself. And it was hot thinking of the game he was playing. He was hard, of course, already, he had a definite lead on the lion, but, Lincoln was known for having a hair trigger. What if Lincoln came first? Would Chad be able to gulp down his own meaty snack?

	It made him delirious to just think about, eyes closing, and legs thrashing, as he sucked and gnawed on the two stiff pricks in his muzzle. He swapped his balls, with Lincoln’s, passing them from paw to paw, the cock rubbery and shifting in his muzzle as he did. He would teasingly try to swallow one down, feeling it pull against those nuts, and then realize it was his own. Then he’d pull it out, and gag himself on Lincoln’s, and then switch them, rolling them in his mouth until he was almost unsure of who’s was who’s again. He would pinch a fat nut, feeling the pain in his own groin - or feeling nothing at all.

	He pictured Lincoln, probably groaning and holding onto the wall as he felt this phanton blow job. He wondered if Lincoln thought this was some sort of a test? Was the lion trying to hold back? Chad purrrred around the two mouthfulls, thinking of the lion trying his best to *lose*, not realizig what would happen if he didn’t cum...

	That’s about the time when he felt one of the cocks going ramrod stiff in his mouth, pushing the other one to the side. He felt the first twitch against his tonsils, the first warm bolt of semen, before he felt his own body contracting, his own orgasm flaring up through him. Not that it was delayed, he had just been soooo involved in teasing and slurping and having his fun he  hadn’t realized what was happening! He swallows his seed, letting his teeth scrape against the thick cockstalk as he slooowly pulled it out, each barb plucking against those fangs, and carefully he put his package back on the pillow next to him. 

	Poor Lincoln. He could feel the lion getting close, too, his shaft soooo hard, so proud and erect and jutting against the cheetah’s tongue and gullet. Too bad. He pulled the shaft loose, holding it up, a beautiful pinkish pale, and then slowly lowered it back towards his muzzle. That sheath... it was loose, curled around the root of the lion’s shaft, that shaft twitching and throbbing in his hand. He was sure if Lincoln had -any- control, he’d be thrusting, humping like mad. Instead, Lincoln got nothing, exccept the feeling of teeth against his sheath.

	Chad chewed on it, for a bit, gnawing on that fleshy holster like fuzzy bubble gum, before holding Lincoln’s package like an ear of corn, he yanked his head, and that warm flap of skin tore free in his mouth. It ripped down, to the silver ring that wrapped around the base, and he yanked his head one way, then another, peeling it loosely from the lion’s groin. 

	He chewed and slurped that loose musky strap of skin between his jaws, crunching and chewing it. It was the first real bite of the evening, and he took the time to savor everything about it, the rubbery texture, the salty taste of Lincoln that the sprayer couldn’t wash out. It was all perfect, better than he had imagined.

	There were no regrets, now.

	He took the lion’s cock, and speared the whole length of it into his mouth. He crammed and forced it, feeling the cock, already softening from the shock, no doubt, of having one’s sheath torn free, and he gulped. His throat caught those little barbs, pulling at them, and he felt his friend’s fat dick slither into his throat. He swallowed again, feeling the metal ring click against his teeth. He wasn’t worried about that. Between his teeth, and along his tongue it went, the lion’s eggs nudging against his lips next. He tucked one into his mouth, feeling the slippery orb slide onto his tongue, and he pushed at it, tucking it between his molars. The other was tucked in, too, pressing against his other molars, and he swallowed again, feeling that torpedo of cockflesh slither further down his throat. The cheetah’s fangs caught against Lincoln’s balls, trapping them as eh swallowed, swallowed, swallowed, each smooth grip rippling over traped sex flesh. Was that a twitching, he felt, a  convulsion in his throat as that cock started to spit up it’s load?

	Didn’t matter now! Chad bit down with succulent relish, the rubbery eggs bulging between his jaws, pushing outwards to escape the crushing fangs that dug into them.

	They held out for About ten seconds, before he felt them rupture, simply breaking, bursting, their gooey, jellied innards splattering against his tongue from either side. It was saltier, gooier than he expected, funky and coppery and oooh-so male. 

	The next swallow pulled on that cock, and with no balls to anchor it in place, it slithered into a hungry cheetah belly, trailing the ruined remains of a once-pudgy lion ball-sack.

	Lincoln was gonna be piiiiiiissed! Well, in all honesty, Lincoln was probably unconscious from the shock. That was for the best, though. Chad was a sadistic asshole, but even he wouldn’t want his friend to feel his cock slowly being digested in a hungry predator belly. Chad rolled off of the bed, feeling inspired, and stroke purposefully towards the kitchen, heavy cock flopping back and forth between his knees.

	Foster’s cock was still in the blender, the water now decidedly foamy, whiter looking. The cheetah crouched down, smirking at the cock, that was starting to look pruney, the knots looking reddened and puffy. He taptaped on the glass, nodding. “Keep at it, Foster, I’m gonna need some nice, thick gravy from you before this is all done!” He moved on to his backpack, and pulled out a special little box. It was a originally used for peppermints, about the size and shape of a sardine can, with a little hingetop. He opened it up, revealing four tiny little compasses. Two of them were pointing to him, directly, as if he were due north, and the other two were pointing in other directions, one of them at the blender. He took the two pointing at him, and put one of them on his belly, peering down at it. After a bit of wobbling, the red needle swivelled to point upwards. He put the other there, next to it, and it wobbled around, until it was pointing at the horsecock just down below.

	Putting the second one aside, he took the one that was pointing at his belly, and twisted the cap. There was a CLICKign sound, very similar to the sounds the rings had made, and the needle went limp, the compass seeming entirely broken, now. Lincoln’s connection had been severed - the force that had connected the two halves of the rings had been grounded out, and now there was nothing but a silver ring flopping from Lincoln’s groin, wherever he was, the flesh cauterized with arcane energies. 

	That really wasn’t any of Chad’s concern, at the moment. What was his concern, was the clatter of dog feet towards the bedroom, and the realization that he had left something back there.

	Something important.

	“MISHKA! NOOOOO!!!” He shouted, stumbling towards the bedroom after her. He felt something brush against his dick, though, and a warm, rough tongue licking up along the side of it. Then what could only be two sets of teeth scooped around his cock, right around the middle, and Mishka was barrelling past the cheetah with a cock sticking out of her mouth. Chad lunged at her, but she dodged, and he landed heavily on the horse cock that was still jutting from his legs. 

	“NO NO NO!” he said, scampering up to his knees as Mishka ducked down, head slamming into the doggie door and barrelling outside. Chad slammed into the door, cursing at the dead bolt as he fumbled with it. He could feel hot dog breath against his dick, and the sensation of his balls flopping, up and down, painful flopping.

	He heard yipping, barking, adn as he swung the door open, his heart sunk. The outside had a large, wide pen, and as Mishka ran out into the sunning set, the rest of the pack, that had been outside playing, came to greet her.

	It was in slow motion, that the first dog, a big shaggy sandy husky, did a flying leap, snagging the cheetah’s nut-sack between his own jaws. Chad felt the thick teeth puncturing right into his scrotum, his balls being squeezed between long canine jaws. Another dog came in from the other side, snapping at the tip of the barbed cock that jutted out from Mishka’s teeth.

	Chad’s legs went rubbery as the three dogs played tug of war, feeling the teeth all digging, piercing, crushing, tearing. He watched from forty feet away as the dogs ripped his crotch apart.

	He felt things rending, scrotum tearing, barbs being stripped off as Mishka got tackled from the side. He saw one last glimpse of his pretty cheetah dick, pulled taut between the two dogs, as two more snapped at it.

	Teeth everywhere. He yowled, as he felt his cock ripped into pieces, literally torn and bitten apart, the proud cap, one fat nut, his sheath, the middle of his dick, each piece yanked free by the hungry hungry huskies. 

	They’d gotten their treats after all!

	Chad spent a moment, staring blankly out at the dogs, who now were fussing over the metal ring - all that was left of his package - and he jumped with a start as he felt teeth nibbling between his legs! 

	“Dammit, I was gonna feed it to the snake!” he muttered, stumbling back into the house. It was going to be AFTER dinner, too!

	He looked down between his legs, while the blender, the water now a creamy whitish foamy bubbling mess that nearly reached the lid, chugged away beside him. 

	Big ole battered horse dick.

	Stephen. It was his turn, now! 

He unclicked the metal from his groin, wincing as he saw the bared flesh beneath, nothing left to sprout from his groin, in the ring or outside of it. He laid Stephen’s cock and balls out on the prep island, a long, wide, marble topped affair. He grimaced at the oversized dick, sizing it up. It was swollen, where the dishwasher had slammed it, and the balls looked positively black, now. He felt them - yup. Cold. Totally dead. Course, Stephen may not know that. He may not have any idea at all that he’s already been neutered. Still...

	Chad opened the utensil cabinet under the island, taking out a rolling pin. He slammed it down on those big, dead nuts. No response - not a twitch of the cock, or a shifting of the balls. Yup, Stephen wasn’t feeling them at all. He put the rolling pin aside, and pulling the poultry shears from the knife block, made quick work of that oversized pouch.

	Shrp, shrp, shrp, the scissors went, cutting smooth and clean through the pouch that had worked for so long to keep those orange-sized testes safe. 

	Tump! went the counter behind the cheetah, as the severed pouch behind him. Whatevs!

	He took the rolling pin again, and slammed it down on the root of the horse’s cock. Stephen wasn’t hard, anymore, but he was still dropped - it was too tight to allow him to retract. Chad rolled that pin upwards, flattening the cock against the marble, the broad cap belling out as blood was pushed further and further, making it slare to an impressive width.

	He pulled the pin up, and did it again, kneading the blood up into the cap again. Then, starting from the cap, he rolled downwards, pushing the blood away from it ad back into the horse’s body on the other side. He did that a few times, too, until the cock looked almost flattened, the spongey tissue laying limp and dead on the marble counter. 

	Then he had an idea.

	“I bet horse cock would taste good, REALLY good, with soooooome rice inside!”

	He took a bag of dirty brown rice, filling a pastry bag with it and jamming the tip of said bag into the end of the horse’s cock. He squeezed, pushed, urged the rice grains out of the bag, the dry raspy little kernels slowly forcing themselves up into the horse’s urethra. He was sure it was painful, irritating, annoying, but you know what? Chad had juuuust watched his whole crotch get mauled into kibble by a bunch of annoyingly cute huskies, and as far as he was concerned, it was Stephen’s fault!

	He went to the blender, turning it off and yanking Foster’s cock from the rim. It looked puffy, blistered in a few blaces, and very very tender.

	Perfect! He brought it to Stephen’s own cock, and lining them up, he jammed the fluted, tulip-like tip of the fossa’s cock into the very end of Stephen’s, and he puuuuuushed.

	And puuuuushed!

	AND PUUUUUUSHHHHHHED!

	Finally, there was a sensation of something yielding, and the fossa’s shaft speared partially up into the horse’s own. The first bulging barbed knot kept it from going any further, though. That was okay. Chad pulled the cock almost the whole way out, and the jammed it back in again. He twisted it. He pulled back, and jammed in again. And again.

It took about three minutes of that intense docking before Stephen’s cock started to fill back up. He grinned, even trauma can cause a sexual response. He jammed, and twisted, jammed and twisted, occasionally dumping more seeds over Foster’s shaft to give him some more texture to work into Stephen’s cock. 

About three minutes after THAT, Foster’s cock twitched, jumping in his hand. He grinded it in, and smirked as it pulsed, watery looking semen seeping and leaking from ravaged end of Stephen’s own cock.

“It’s a shame it wouldn’t fit, Foster. That would have made an Excellent turducken. Still...”

He yanked the fossa’s shaft from Stephen’s, and turned, a glint in his eye. The blender was still there, and he took the lid off of it. The frothy white mix of all of Foster’s previous ejaculations whirled, smooth and inviting. 

Chad dropped the cock into it.

It disappeared into the milky foam, being sucked underneath almost immediately, and the blender rocked powerfully as the flexing beautiful fossa dick jutted into those whirling blades. Jutted into, and lost to. The tip would have to be first, that peculiar fluted spatulated tip being whicked off in a second’s time. Then the weight of the cock would push the first bulb down into it, and that would get chewed into, metal tines shaving and chopping a quarter inch at a time. 

Chad watched as the long, thin cock was swallowed up by the blender, the creamy white turning dull pink, thick clumpy pink chunks beginning to sputter and spin around with the bubbles. 

When the baculum hit it, everything went wrong! IT jammed, or something, and then brokje, Chad couldn’t be sure, but all of a sudden, bits of Foster pudding (with extra Foster in it!) was spraying up into the air, all over him. He sputtered, grabbing the lid and jamming it down over top, but a good bit of the fluid inside had already been lost. Dammit! Why do things always have to go wrong! He watched ruefully as those tight-sacked fossa balls were pulled down into the much pulpier contraption, the silver ring the last to disappear beneath the foam. There was another Thumping sound, followed shortly by a third THUMP, splats of greyish goop spurting out from the bottom of the pulpy mass, and then a high pitched whining sound as, no doubt, the ring got tangled in the mess.

Chad unplugged the blender, and then poured the mass through the colander, into another mixing bowl. Most of it went through, just a few chunks of bone and the silver ring filtered out. Perfect. At least -that- had gone smoothly. The ‘pudding’, if you could call it that, he took back to the pastry bag, dumping out the rice and refilling it with the thick goop.

He pressed the nozzle into the torn end of stephen’s cock, and squeeeezed that pastry bag! 

“Yeah, take that, you DICK!” he grunted, as the thick goop was forced down into the horse’s own urethra. He watched as the horse cock bulged, slowly, the thick goop puffing it out as it went. When Stephen’s dick had nearly inflated all the way to the base, Chad took some cooking twine, and wrapped it tightly, TOO tightly, around the root. It cut in deeply, but that’s okay, it wasn’t going to stay there for Too long. 

He finished fillint it up, and then wrapped more cooking twine around the other end, just below the cap. All in all, Stephen’s dick seemed quite nicely stuffed, bulging thick and warm and heavy in the middle, the two ends trussed tightely.

Chad couldn’t help himself, he HAD to try it! He leaned down, taking the side of the horse’s bell between his jaws, and with a savage twist of his head, he bit a mouthful of glans off. 

It was soooo succulent! And juicy! And it tasted like DICK! He couldn’t tell which one tasted more manly, Stephen’s dick or Lincoln’s, but it didn’t matter now. He picked up the fat, trussed horse cock, limp and turgid and wobbly, and tossed it in the fridge, casually flinging it in over a bag of mushrooms and some left over sweet n sour pork.

Chad was almost done! He just had to seeet the oven for four hundred degrees... Done! And put the cast iron skillet in there, to pre-heat... perrrrrrfect... and now he just had to clean up!

He whistled as he worked, rinsing out the blender and putting it back in the cupboard. HE had kept the receipt, he was suuuure he could get it replaced! Hopefully they wouldn’t ask what had broken it, though.

He wiped up all the Foster gunk from the walls and counter, tossing the paper towels into the trash can. He wiped off the rolling pin, and put it away, and sanitized the cutting board, and then he found a big, bulging bag of balls, just sitting there on the counter.

Huh! Chad had forgotten about those. Oh well, he would give them to his work out buddy at the gym. That tiger was always looking for things like that. It’s where he had gotten this whole crazy idea, anyways. He rubbed at his crotch, frowning. It hadn’t hurt before, but the shock was wearing off, and his groin ached from the attack on it.

He deactivated his ring, sighing as the little metal ring slid cleanly from between his thighs, and then, after a moment’s thought, he deactivated Foster’s, too. Stephen’s, though, he left going. He wanted that horse to feel this!

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Ahh, the oven was ready. He pulled open the door, grinning at the big, black cast iron skillet that lay steaming on it. Opening the fridge, he took out the horse cock, and spent some time, rubbing it down with a paper towel soaked in olive oil. Then, without much more ado, he pressed the bitten glans down into the middle of the skillet, where it hiiiiissssed delightfully! And then he wrapped it, in a lazy spiral, further and further out until JUST fit in the solid metal pan.

Already it was sizzling, and he hadn’t even put it in the oven yet! He did, though, putting a bit of tin foil over it, and then locked the oven door and cracked open a beer.

It had been a hell of a day! But it looked like he was going to have a hell of a dinner!

His phone buzzed, one sad little bleat, and Chad glanced over to it. Fifty five missed calls, mostly from his three friends. A couple from Torrie, and a couple from the sex shop. He grimaced. That poor clerk must not have had a clue what was coming. He probably would not be welcoming Chad back into his establishment with open arms.

That was okay, though. Chad had thought smart and had bought in bulk. There was a safety deposit box *full* of these clever little rings, and Chad knew of one or two glory holes in the area.

He wouldn’t be going hungry, that’s for sure!

Thirty minutes later, and Chad was flopped out over the couch, a pile of tired pooches sleeping at his feet, on his lap, beside him, behind him, basically everywhere. The TV was on, talking about a ‘spree of violence’ that started at a residential home, where a male bat had been ‘assaulted and maimed’, continuing to a sex shop, and escalating to what appeared to be a series of completely random attacks on male cheetahs in the downtown area. 

“What is this world coming to?” Chad mused, rubbing Mishka’s head. The husky rolled over, baring her tummy, and Chad rubbed it. “Stewwpid Dog.” He snorted. Mishka he couldn’t really do anything with, but he counted three male dogs that his sister was taking care of, threeee male dogs that were going to get NEUTERED.

BING!

“OH! the roast is done!” Chad jumped up, dogs scattering and flopping about, and scampered back into the kitchen. The smell was divine. 

He opened the oven door, and carefully pulled the sizzling skillet from inside, setting it down on a couple coasters. The dappled horse cock that had been in the skillet when he had put it in the oven was gone - all that was left was a thick, bulging, sizzling, crispy looking spiral of Meat.

He was almost afraid to touch it, afraid that it would poof into a cloud of dust and waft away. He was even more afraid to taste it! Because what if it tured out bad? Chad had watched Good Bites for three years, but never cooked a thing from it. Now, all his planning, all his plotting, and here he was, with what looked like a perfectly roasted log of meat, and he was getting cold feet!

Ah, fuck it!

He stabbed a fork into the middle of the log and lifted it up. The flesh peeled stickily from the pan, crispy skin left on the bottom of the pan, and Chad took a knife, sawing the log off, just above the twine where it had been wrapped around the end. He cut the silver ring off as well, letting it thunk onto the counter dully. This left him with about four inches of trussed, greasy looking meat, cooked all the way through - not a drop of blood had spilled when he had sliced through either side. 

He brought it to his mouth, smelling the rich, salty, gamey flesh, coppery and male and prey all at once. He knew it was hot, that he should let it cool down, but he took a bit of the skin between his lips, peeling it off and nibbling and licking at it.

It was sooooo good! It had a delicious horse flavor, of course, but there was a certain exotic rodenty flavor, too. Mmmmm. He bit into the steaming, juice-dripping roast, gulping down a mouthful of hot horse-cock. It wasn’t like it was Stephen’s, not anymore. He had earned it, fair and square! And it’s not like Stephen needed it anyways!

Another mouthful was sheared from the fork, and then another, and soon he was digging in, ravenously tearing into different parts of the meat and stuffing the steaming, dripping, savory flesh into his mouth, gulping it down. He could taste Foster in it as well, tasty pieces of paste, a sort of ‘fossa jam’ that popped out of come mouthfuls when he bit into them. The rice had done it’s part to expand and absorb extra fluids, keeping the whole thing looking fat and bloated looking.

It was delicious.

It was a terrible, terrible shame, when Chad went to stab another piece of meat, and there was none there. Oh, it was terrible.

It’s not that he was hungry - his belly was bulging, gorged with his succulent meal. It was just a shame that it wasn’t there to be eaten anymore!
	Leaving the skillet on the counter, Chad wobbled to the guest bedroom, and flopped on the bed.

	Bling! His phone buzzed, a new message.

	Ooooh, it was a notification from that new app, “Nibblr”, he had installed. He opened it up, blearily trying to focus on the picture someone had sent him. Oh! It was a wolf!

	Well, it was a wolf’s cock, anyways, a viciously veined, erect, black cock, with a leather gloved fist wrapped tightly behind the bulging bulbs at it’s base.

	“Hey bud, think u can take the knot?” it said in addition to the picture.

	“Sure can. I have a cock ring that’ll keep you hard allll night”, Chad blearily typed back into the phone. “If you think you can handle that...”

	Of course he could, though. Wolves were dogs, and dogs were steeewwwwwwwpid. 

	Theeeee Eeeeeeeend!