The overstuffed leather cushions creaked under Tyrone’s weight as the bull shifted his weight, his fur sticking to the sweaty leather as he moved. Even with the windows open, even with a pair of fans blowing across his fur, the apartment was sweltering. He’d stripped down to a sweaty muscle shirt and a jockstrap, but it hadn’t helped much. The slowly warming beer in his hand wasn’t cooling him down much either, but he took another swig of it anyway, and let out a belch that drowned out the TV and the whir of the fans. He didn’t care, it wasn’t like there was anyone around for him to impress… anyone who mattered anyway… His butt shifted again slightly as something moved underneath it, and the bull grinned and leaned back, lifting his legs and letting his ass carry all of his weight. He was rewarded by the creaking of the chair’s springs, and by a muffled curse or yelp. 

The bull’s grin widened, and he glanced down and lifted his butt slightly from the chair, peeling himself away from the warm leather and from the dishevelled, panting face of the small golden-furred wolf. It had been a long time since Tyrone had seen such a pitiful looking creature… The young canine had seemed so cocky and confident back at the bar, and the bull had actually let the much smaller male buy him a drink and flirt with him. When he’d suggested the wolf come back to his place the little canine’s tail had been wagging and his ears had been perked forward. Now they were flat against his head, and his tail had creeped between his legs in either submission or discomfort. 

“That wasn’t a complaint, was it?” Tyrone asked, and the sweaty wolf shook his head desperately, licking his muzzle and glancing around the room as if looking for a way out. That made Tyrone even more excited, but he covered it with an angry sounding snort. 

“Ten minutes. You said you could handle ten minutes without a complaint. Remember what I said would happen if I heard one?” Actually, Tyrone had been surprised he’d been able to talk the wolf into it at all. He’d made jokes about wolves and dogs sniffing assholes before, but when he’d shown the wolf the chair, and the space between the cushions where his head would go, he hadn’t been expecting the wolf to agree without some convincing. He hadn’t had to promise the canine anything… that was the best part. The submissive little bitch had done it just for the joy of submitting. 

Which probably made Tyrone a bit of an asshole for making sure the wolf didn’t enjoy it… of course… if the wolf didn’t like assholes, he shouldn’t have agreed to let one sit on his face… 

“I… I wasn’t…” the wolf protested, but Tyrone’s deep voice cut him off. 

“I’m starting the clock again. This time I’d better not hear a fucking whimper.” Tyrone was pretty sure that the wolf did whimper, but the two plump, squishy butt cheeks drowned it out, and with another, satisfied snort the bull turned up the volume on the TV, occasionally wiggling his butt a bit just to make his captive squirm. To the helpless wolf it must have felt like he was being smothered, but there was more than one way to sit on the specially designed chair, and Tyrone’s weight wouldn’t suffocate the little canine unless he decided he wanted it to. For now, it was enough that the wolf feel like he was being smothered… and to feel like he still had a chance. Tyrone’s stomach rumbled as he sipped at the beer again, his gut churning, and the bovine let himself enjoy another private grin as he waited for the clock to tick down. 

He waited until the wolf had three minutes left before he let out the first fart… just a silent puff of gas, barely anything really, but he could smell it from where he was sitting, and it made the wolf’s body tense underneath of him. The mutt didn’t make a noise, and after a minute or so he started to relax again. That was when Tyrone really let him have it, letting out a long, loud fart that almost made his own eyes water. Five seconds into it the wolf was thrashing, desperately trying to shift his weight. Ten seconds into it he was howling and letting out muffled protests. Tyrone kept on farting for another few seconds, and then with a satisfied sigh reached down and patted the wolf’s belly. 

“That’s another ten minutes boy.” Tyrone told his shuddering victim, and let out another fart for emphasis. No point in holding them back now that the wolf knew what he was getting into. “And since you still had two minutes left on the clock, I’m adding those on too. Plus the five you had left over from your first screw-up, which is… uh… Seventeen minutes. We’ll round that to twenty.” He added generously, and farted again, a quiet hiss that made the wolf gag loudly. 

“Yep… Pretty sure I didn’t like the tone of that gag. Thirty minutes, and if you aren’t hard by the time I let you up I’m keeping you down there until you are…”