Warden Vincent Allbrook had never seen a cock so big in his life. A foot or more of slick black shaft and mushroom head jutted out at him like one of the batons his guards carried, pulsing and twitching with life. A pair of balls like oranges dangled under it in a shaggy stretched out pouch of black fur. 
"What the fuck are you waiting for?" The owner of that tremendous cock growled, eyes glinting like green fire in the setting sun's light that poured through Warden Vincent's office window. 
"Y-you shouldn't even be here, Edward. This...this isn't ethical!" The Warden stammered, his dark, canine eyes flicking up to meet those smoldering green lupine ones. The musk coming off of the black wolf's tackle was tantalizing. It made the Warden's muzzle slick with drool that he could barely contain. 
"Are you backtalkin' me, Allbrook? I said 'suck my FUCKIN' cock'!" The prisoner snarled, his white fangs glinting like diamonds against the ebony of his lips. "You ain't gonna like it if I have to make you..." 
The Warden, a boxer, balked then, a snarl of his own bubbling through his lips. "Now see here, this has gone far enough! I am the Warden of this penitentiary and I refuse to be spoken to like some gutter whore on the street, Durall." The boxer started to stand up, his paws going for the keys and handcuffs at his belt. "Turn around, you are going back to your cell right now, Durall." 
The huge black wolf just smirked. "Oh am I?" He leaned back against the Warden’s desk on his elbows, his massive cock twitching and still quite erect. Vincent’s eyes flicked down to it, watching it flex under its own weight, bobbing up and down. He swallowed. 
“Yes, you are. Now stand up!” the Warden ordered, forcing himself to be professional, despite the lump that sat in the front of his tan slacks like a fist. The wolf just sat there, smirking. “You’re pissing me off, Allbrook. I’ll give you one last chance to do what I told you to do, and blow me, or you’re gonna regret it.” 
“Guards!” Allbrook yelled, not giving himself another chance to think about the massive lupine’s ultimatum. It was too tempting, seeing that massively chiseled chest bared through the unzipped orange jumpsuit, the rocklike abs below that and then that huge, impossibly huge set of lupine tackle that jutted out between Durall’s legs. He let out a breath of relief when he heard his office door open and shut firmly, and sensed the guards enter the room. “Mr. Durall here is propositioning a figure of authority. He needs to be taken to solitary confinement and he’s resisting restraint.” the Warden growled, trying to explain the prisoner’s nudity. Vincent was expecting dark-uniformed figures to step up on either side of Durall’s body and restrain him, but instead two orange jumpsuited inmates stepped into view. A massive brown grizzly bear with a scar across his snout, and a buff badger covered with tattoos and a pierced nose leered at the Warden from either side of his desk. 
“W-what’s going on here? Guards!” Allbrook shouted immediately, stepping backwards nervously. He tripped over the smaller chair that faced his desk, and fell into it hard. The two inmates moved forward quickly then, and pinned him in that chair, holding him down. 
“Let me go! You’ll never see the outside now, Durall, you’ve just thrown your parole next month out the window! You might have a sharp mind and a silver tongue, but you’re stupid. You can’t get away with something like this.” Allbrook growled, trying to intimidate the huge wolf. 
“You just don’t get it, do you, Allbrook?” Durall growled, standing up slowly. He was so tall his pointed ears nearly brushed the ceiling above him. He strolled around the Warden’s desk, huge cock wagging in front of him like a dowsing rod. “There’s been a revolution in this jail, and not a single shot was fired. I won’t say no blood was spilled, but no one actually got offed in the power shift. That doesn’t mean they’ll be ‘getting off’ anymore, but at least they aren’t dead!” Durall snickered, and the inmates mimicked him, grinning down at the confused boxer. 
“What the fuck are you talking about, revolution! You’re prisoners. You have no power in this jail!” the Warden shot back, struggling against the grip of the two prisoners holding him down in the chair. 
Durall sank slowly into the Warden’s high-backed, plush leather chair on the other side of his desk, staring across that desk just like the Warden had so many other prisoners sitting in the chair the Warden now occupied. “So much bluster. I guess it’s wise not to show weakness even when you’re on the losing side. And you have lost, Mr. Allbrook. Your jail, your authority. You really should be more careful about who you hire and promote into a place like this. It was...laughable...how easy it was to talk you out of control of your own prison. Almost all of your guards were quick to turn on you, that’s how we got where we are now.” Durall explained, pulling open drawers in the Warden’s desk until he found what he was looking for. He pulled the expensive cigar out, along with a box of matches, and then, moments later, a small bottle of scotch and a porno mag. Durall lit the cigar slowly, puffed it, and blew out a cloud of fragrant smoke before he continued. 
“See? This is why men like you shouldn’t be in positions of power. You’re too trusting. Too fuckin’ lazy. How many times, Mr. Allbrook, have you sat in this plush leather chair, puffing a cigar; sipping scotch; stroking your cock to this magazine? Meanwhile, letting your guards and administrative team run the prison with YOUR fuckin’ name on the door? You’re ridiculous. And I tried to give you a chance to accept your new place gracefully, but no. You just had to act like the big fish in the lake and buck up. Well you’re not the big fish anymore, Allbrook. I am. I’m ALWAYS the big fish.” Durall growled, hefting his massive cock so that it flopped across the Warden’s desk with a thud like a fist slamming down. 
“You’re crazy, Durall. You’ll be committed for this. You’re going to spend the rest of your life in a padded cell, and you’ll not even get to TOUCH that cock ever again. In fact, I think I’ll recommend chemical castration for this little perverted show! How do you like that, eh? I’ll be back in my chair and you’ll be in the loony bin with an empty ballsack to show for your insolence!” Allbrook snarled, trying his best to regain his footing in this situation. The room went quiet for a long moment, as the sun slowly set outside the windows. Durall puffed the cigar, the end of it flaring brightly in the fading light. 
“Funny you should mention castration, Allbrook. I guess you’re not as laughable as I thought. Because, it’s so very easy to kill someone who gets in your way. But. Isn’t it better, nay, smarter, to make an ally out of an enemy? That’s a hard thing to do, I know, but it’s all about leverage. And most men, especially in a place like this, don’t have much to use as leverage. They all have one thing in common though that nearly every single one of them would do anything to keep. Their balls. 
“Do you remember Kanowitz? The cocky newblood you brought in a few weeks ago, the one who had to quit because of his family needs? I castrated him on the toilet in the men’s room downstairs. Flushed his boys down the toilet and told him to quit. He turned down my offer to join my side. 
“How about Vito? Mr. ‘Brooklyn Italian’ walkin’ cliche who found a better job? I laid my thirteen inch cock down his gizzard and let my boy Butcher” -Durall pointed at the badger- “there crush his balls while I did. He threatened to go to you afterwards, still so cocky even when his nuts were mush. So I sliced his cock off and fed it to him. He gave in after that. 
“Are you seeing what I’m getting at, Allbrook? Anyone who didn’t agree to join me, I castrated and got them out of here. So you have nothing but prisoners who can’t stand you, and guards who don’t listen to you. You’re the only one left in here. But unlike Kanowitz, or Vito, or even your son-in-law that I nutted just to watch his eyes cross last conjugal visit day, I need you.” Durall finished, puffing his cigar with a smirk on his lips. 
Allbrook looked decidedly green now, the brindle coloration of his fur barely hiding the sickness of the skin below it. “You...You’re a psychopath...” he said shakily. 
“No. I passed that test with flying colors. I’m just intelligent.” Durall shot back with a toothy smile. He toyed with his cock for a moment, fingers brushing over the shaft of it lovingly, like he was caressing a favorite pet. He lifted it from the desktop and let it lay over his thigh as he leaned back in Allbrook’s chair. “As for you, Mr. Allbrook, it’s time for your punishment. See, I need you sitting in this chair. I can’t straddle your throne and expect the Army not to show up outside my door. But as long as your pretty mug sits here, I’m safe to do as I please in the background. Now you can probably guess the terms of this little agreement, yes? Do as I say or I’ll off your nuts? No, it’s not so simple this time. You pissed me off, Allbrook. And I warned you, I did. But I still need you and I still have leverage. I’ve seen you pull your pud in this chair, Allbrook, you forget you have a security camera in here. I know you’re uncut. So, Butcher, Breaker,” Durall gestured at the badger and bear, “I want you to cut out Mr. Allbrook’s left testicle and remove his foreskin, please.” 
“Wh-what!? No! Guards! Guards! Get in here! HELP!!!” Allbrook shouted as the two inmates started to reach for his pants. He struggled, kicking and squirming, until the huge grizzly, Breaker, punched him solidly across the jaw. It stunned him long enough that the two inmates were able to get those tan slacks down around the boxer’s ankles. His tight black briefs were still on, covering the moderately sized shaft and balls that lay within. Allbrook groaned dazedly as they slipped his underwear down. He shook his head, blood running down his chin to drip on his shirt from his busted lip. Breaker took a plastic tube from his pocket, one that looked to be a slightly modified piece of plastic plumbing pipe. He picked up Allbrook’s chubby brown cock and slid back his foreskin until his cockhead was completely exposed, and then slipped the dog’s knob into the tube. Then he rolled Allbrook’s foreskin back up around the small tube’s outer side, so that the pipe was between his cockhead and foreskin. 
“Make sure you get his frenulum too, Breaker.” Durall ordered casually, pouring himself a glass of the boxer’s private scotch as his lackeys worked. 
“I will, boss. He ain’t gonna be able to feel sandpaper on his pud once I get done with him.” the grizzly snickered, snapping a rubber band around Allbrook’s cock, just behind the head. The boxer regained enough consciousness to sit there and watch the huge bear circumcise him, but not enough to resist. He whined as he watched the bear’s claws slide around his foreskin, slicing it loose around the outside of the tube. Breaker didn’t leave a centimeter of excess skin on the dog’s shaft, and he held up the tube to Allbrook’s nose, letting him see the precious brown skin still rolled over the tube. Allbrook moaned, gasping as the bear’s claws went back between his legs. Breaker turned the dog’s freshly circumcised cock over, baring its underside before he dragged a claw across that taut pulsing stand of nerves just under its head, slicing his frenulum. Allbrook jumped as the nerves snapped, a discordant ache slamming though his guts as his cock was cost its most precious nerve endings with one brutal cut. The rubber band just behind his head kept him from bleeding too much. 
“My turn.” Butcher, the badger grinned as he stepped in. Allbrook squirmed, panting. He was awake now, but he was afraid to struggle too much. He’d already lost a piece of his manhood, and was about to lose another. Fear for the rest of it kept him glued to the spot as Breaker held his ruined cock up out of the way, and Butcher hefted his balls from between his thighs. “Just the lefty, right, boss? Sure you don’t want me to off ‘em both? He’s got nice ones. I wanna hear his voice go nice and high...” Butcher asked Durall, grinning as Allbrook whimpered pitifully. 
“No, just the left one.” Durall reiterated, sipping the scotch and stroking his cock idly as he watched. 
“Ok, boss.” Butcher barked obediently. He squeezed Allbrook’s nearly smooth, short-haired white scrotum and pulled it away from his groin. Allbrook whimpered, his eyes locked on his testicles as the badger pulled out a small pocket knife and flicked it open. The boxer moaned, his cock starting to twitch and sting as the pain of his circumcision set in. He gasped as Butcher sliced open the left side of his scrotum and pulled out his left testicle, baring the purple and red orb to the air. Another rubber band was brought out and snapped around the cord of his nut, cutting off the blood supply to the twitching jewel. Butcher grinned evilly as he pressed his blade through the cord below the band, slicing the boxer’s left testicle off with barely any resistance. He held it up, showing it to Allbrook. “Hehe half a man now. How’s them guts feeling?” Butcher teased, slugging Allbrook in the stomach just to make sure he was feeling the ache of his half-castration as sharply as he could be. 
The badger and the bear laid the former Warden’s testicle and foreskin on his desk, and Butcher grabbed a stapler from the desk and used it to close up the boxer’s open ballsack with a few quick snaps. 
Durall picked up the pilfered pieces of Allbrook’s manhood and rolled them in his paw. “Good job, boys. Now then, Allbrook, the ultimatum I offer you is this. You do what I say, hire who I say, and be my figurehead while I rule this jail, or I’ll take everything else you have between your legs and make you do it without being a man at all.” 
Allbrook was all too quick to agree now, all the fight gone out of him after watching the wolf’s thugs take half his manhood away. 
“Good. Now, as I said earlier, come over here and suck my cock. You can go to the medical wing and get patched up once I’ve gotten my rocks off. Don’t worry, they’re all in my pocket too. They know how to clean up a castrated man.” Durall said, grinning and winking at his lackeys. 
Allbrook moved around the desk, limping and wincing as he did. “You better be quick, that rubber band around your cock could kill your cockhead if you take too long!” Butcher teased as the boxer got down on his knees between Durall’s legs. 
As the huge wolf slapped his massive cock down across the boxer’s face, he grinned and growled. “And from now on, call me Dreizhen. It’s German for thirteen...” 

---

“Welcome to your new home meat!” The doberman chortled, shoving the taller wolverine into the cell unceremoniously, “Drop your sheets on the bunk, don’t get comfortable just yet because you aren’t staying, everyone else is in the yard. Maybe we can go find your cellmate and introduce you two proper. Don’t expect any privacy here, I can’t leave you here all alone until they get back. You checked that bag at the door, from now on, there’s always going to be a set of eyes on you chum. Hope you got to crank it in the solitude of your room, savored it, those days are done. Don’t worry though, your bunkmate’s a real sweetheart, he’ll give you a nice warm welcome. None of that will matter much and you’ll feel right at home, having alone time to stroke your pud will feel like a lifetime away. Then again, maybe it already does, right pops?” 

The wolverine suppressed a growl in his chest, staring back at the guard through the small silver spectacles perched on the end of his snout. He was head and shoulders taller than the canine standing in the barred doorway, and at least twice as wide. He just cursed the fact that most of that girth was a substantial amount of pudge. Too many years sitting behind a desk and not doing anything about it. His body settled into that sedentary lifestyle, the comfortable world he’d built for himself. There had never been any need to waddle to the gym and stain his expensive briefs, soil them with that much sweat and effort. He didn’t much enjoy the tone the guard had either, or his obvious glee about the manner and attitude of his cellmate. The snide attitude and smugness from the officer was one thing, but his lewd foreshadowing was grating on his last nerve.

The crack about his age snapped it, the wolverine tossed the few meager “belongings” on his cot with a snarl. Turning around to face the young upstart. The guard just smirked, patting the taser and baton on his hip, “Just try it big boy, I don’t just have weapons on my side. I’ve got strength, speed, and youth.” The doberman confidently slid his hand over to the bulge in his tan slacks, hefting it to emphasize the word youth. The wolverine was really getting sick of the upstart young punk, and he knew the doberman knew it. The cocky dog watched the annoyed wolverine sigh and back down, trying to calm himself once more, knowing it was a fight he shouldn’t fight. One he knew in no way he’d come out on top, even if he did knock the guard around, it wouldn’t serve any purpose. 

“I’d watch that attitude, Vaughn likes his boys to be obedient. He doesn’t allow them to have any sort of defiant streak. Let me put it in terms you can understand, you’re a desk jockey right? Just do what he says without question and you haven’t got anything to worry about. Just lick boot like you’d do to your boss.” The doberman snickered, the lewd grin suggesting the wolverine would be licking more than ‘boots.’ 

“Let’s just say I’m accustomed to a bit of treatment myself. I had my higher ups, but I had more than plenty of men sucking up to me.” The wolverine grumbled, trying to gain footing, reassert himself a little, “I shouldn’t even be here…”

“Hey,” The doberman snapped, “What did I say about attitude? Vaughn is one thing, but I don’t think you want to get on the guard’s bad list too.”

The wolverine glared at the doberman, “No,” he sighed, “This is all just a bit much…”

The doberman shrugged, “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time…” the old and cliched adage dug deep, the return of that smug grin cut deeper. Cheeky bastard.

He started to lead the wolverine out, down the empty rows of cells, “You’re lucky you’re his cellmate really, might give you a chance to warm up to him better. You might not have to jump through as many hoops to get on his good side. I’d suggest you warm up as best you can too, we’ve got some rough customers in this joint. A big guy like you, I’d hate to see those big feet stumble over the top of the wrong set of toes. We can only do so much, we’ll watch out for you, but it wouldn’t hurt to make a few...friends.” That cocky smirk again, the wolverine bit his lip, this dog was just trying to rub it in. He had to wonder if there was anywhere to report him to, or if anyone would listen. He hoped all the guards weren’t this snarky, abusing their position of power. It was the kind of thing you heard on the news though. Those bad eggs with power trips taking positions like this because they liked it. Or as the doberman would probably put it, they, ‘got off on it.’ 

“Mind you I wouldn’t call Vaughn the biggest fish in here,” The doberman continued, “But get in good with him and you should be okay. It wouldn’t exactly be wise to toss your hat in with anyone else anyway right? Wouldn’t be smart to buddy up with one crew when you have to sleep with their biggest rival so to speak? Besides, Vaughn’s accustomed to a few things himself, he’s used to getting what he wants. You don’t want to end up like his last cellmate.”

The wolverine gulped, “W-what happened to his last cell mate?”

“Why don’t you go ask him yourself?” The was a blinding flash as the key in the lock was turned, the door opening to the midday sun. It was a shock to the wolverine who hadn’t realized they’d reached their destination. Now he was blinking, eyes desperately trying to adjust as the guard pulled him out into the dusty yard. Here there were almost countless men milling about the fenced in facility. Some were lifting weights, some played basketball on the blacktop, some just sat on some run down looking bleachers and talked. 

It seemed to strike Harold Bannon, the wolverine being led by the guard, right then. Ever since the gavel had come down, being driven here, even when they were taking away all his possessions and forcing him into the orange jump suit, he had felt numb. Suddenly, here, in the very thick of it his world came crashing down. Harold Bannon, white collar worker, the man who always did his job and always kept his nose clean, was in prison. To top it all off it wasn’t even his fault, he knew he’d been framed. Embezzlement charges were absolutely ridiculous, but somehow all the same he’d ended up here. It wasn’t like he had the money, it wasn’t hiding in some untouchable slush fund, yet here he was all the same. Taking the fall while out there someone else’s pockets were getting lined, it didn’t make any sense, but here he was all the same. Despite the best efforts of his boyfriend and best friend, he’d still ended up in prison. Only he seemed to know what a mockery it was though, to everyone else he was just another criminal. Even hugging his boyfriend goodbye before they hauled him off, those eyes, while hopeful had glints of doubt.

Now he was here, as far as everyone else was concerned it was case closed. If he kept his head low, he could be out in 3 years...sooner if the truth was discovered. He’d just have to hope and do his best until then. At least his friend and coworker said he’d look after his boyfriend, he’d even tried to hire him a great lawyer. It all seemed for naught though, it had still landed him here. He reluctantly followed the doberman as he contemplated all this, feeling the weight of the situation as all the men eyed the large wolverine. He felt out of place enough, it didn’t help that he was still getting used to his new clothing. The bright orange jumpsuit was ugly and uncomfortable, and the cheap white briefs they’d given him weren’t at all what he was used to. He had to resist the urge to adjust the binding undergarments that seem to grip into his legs and twist his nuts. They certainly weren’t the high end expensive briefs that he purchased regularly, these offered no support, no comfort. The sweat of his legs made the whole situation that much worse, Harold bit his lip as each step felt like someone was trying to twist his nuts right off between his legs. As far as appearances went he was screwed, he couldn’t even use his size to his advantage, he was just a meek old duff who had grown too accustomed to soft living. Even the rough cotton of the cheap unruly underwear was making him stumble and whine like a bitch, and every predatory eye in the yard could see it.

The wolverine’s eyes darted left and right, watching the muzzles curl into cruel smirks. Basketball games paused, men racked their weights, as he passed by activity seemed to come to a standstill. They all wanted to get a peek of the new meat, like jackals circling around a kill they could sense the weakness off him. He wasn’t like them, most of them had been born and bred to be hardened criminals, they had made their choices to be there. He wa a victim of circumstance, they could tell he wasn’t from their world. As he passed they would return to their own activities, but he could still sense that predatory aura. Harold knew they all had his scent. He felt the sweat grow cold on the back of his neck, his briefs suddenly seemed to tug that much tighter at his balls, like a fist had wrapped around them and was threatening to tear them clean off. Trying to keep close to the guard proved a challenge as well, it was almost as if he noticed the wolverine’s predicament and had purposefully sped his pace up. His poor manhood would receive no respite as he tried to match the smaller dogs quick pace, each meager hobble felt like a saw was passing through the neck of his sack. 

“Hey Vaughn, got your new cellmate here.” The doberman snickered, as the wolverine awkwardly walked up, puffing out a sigh of relief. Appearances were abandoned as he thrust a paw at his groin to try and peel away the rogue cotton away from his abused low hangers. “Better watch out, looks like this one might have a libido to rival you! He’s already going for his goods!” The doberman snickered, swatting the wolverine’s rump and making him blush in the process. 

The wolverine stumbled forward from the surprise smack, losing his balance as he fumbled with his crotch while trying to release his abused genitals. The world turned black for a moment as he landed face first in something soft. He was pushed back, landing in the dust with a large pitbull looming over him. It wasn’t that the canine was taller, but he was built. The stocky canine was all width, and by the look of his muscles he knew what he was doing, they were bulging but hardly obscene. Harold wasn’t sure if the pitbull had torn out his sleeves as a show of dominance, or simply because he couldn’t fit his thick arms into the sleeves anymore. Beneath the frayed orange edges of the jumpsuit Harold looked at the tapestry of art that ran down the pitbull’s arms. Both thick cannons were inked from wrist to shoulder, just from his appearance the wolverine was quite sure more thuggish printing would be found smattered on his rippling chest.

The pitbull, Vaughn seemed to be his name, was now blocking out the harsh sun as he stared down at the wolverine. His shadow plunged the wolverine into a state of darkness, eclipsing the sun even while he felt the heat of it on his fur. He growled threateningly, but it merged into a deep throaty chuckle. “If I didn’t know better any better Simms I’d say you were trying to instigate a fight.” The pitbull’s mouth split into a snide smirk, “And he looks like the kind of guy that’s going to throw his legs up in the air when I give the order. At least if he knows what’s good for him.” The wolverine shuddered, and couldn’t help but let out a whimper as the tip of the pitbull’s shoe tapped his balls. With no protection save for a few thin layers of cheap cotton, the light tap sent shockwaves of nausea into Harold’s gut. His already aching balls churned that much harder, the assault of the briefs had been bad enough, now this! “He’s already got his legs spread, this one shouldn’t be too hard to train.”

The doberman chuckled back, “Yeah yeah, just see he doesn’t end up like your last cellmate. Allbrook wasn’t happy sending that weasel Benny out of here on a stretcher with his ankles locked behind his ears!” With that the doberman began to turn and walk away, leaving Harold to the mercy of this thug.

“He wasn’t a weasel, he was a stoat Simms! And he was a damn tight fuck too!” The pitbull flexed his shoulders, shrugging off the snide doberman as he disappeared from sight. “I wouldn’t worry about Simms, he’s an ass. Besides you should count yourself lucky, you’re going to be running with the toughest crew in this prison, and you’re not even going to have to beg my favor.” The white dog took a step closer, his bulge mere inches from the wolverine’s face, “But you are going to have to get on your knees big guy. That part’s just mandatory. Welcome to Prison.”

Without another word the pitbull began unzipping his jumpsuit, the gold zipper buzzed down until it bottomed out underneath his balls. He shucked the orange top layer, modesty was something lost a long time ago in here, if he ever had any to begin with. None of the other prisoners seemed to bat an eye, most seemed interested in their own activities. There were a few onlookers, watching the pitbull strip down to his wife beater and briefs, suit pooled around his ankles. They knew what was coming next, and Harold had a fair inkling. He had heard the stories,he’d seen the tv shows. Now he was about to get a first hand taste it seemed. 

The wolverine could smell the musk wafting off the canine’s hot gentials. The white briefs were pasted to his inner thighs like a second skin. He was able to follow the curve of the kiwi sized balls in the white fabric, up to the quite prodigious lump extending along his left hip. The dog’s calves flexed, his whole groin seemed to tighten, and that fat log lurched in the underwear. Harold could do nothing but gulp and stare, breath in the dog’s raw musk. He watched the thick shaft stretch the briefs further. “Fuck, the bastard isn’t even fully hard yet!” He found himself thinking, he couldn’t help but curse. It was instinctive, a knee jerk reaction. Harold Bannon usually tried never to curse. He also had never been one to compare size before. Now he was doing both for what felt like the first time.

“Well, do I have to spell it out for you too? Get sucking.” He ordered coldly, as if Harold had signed up for this. “The sooner we break in that jaw of yours the easier it’s going to get. Trust me, you’re going to be doing this a lot.”

Harold reeled, his mind was a million other places, but it wasn’t here. He was on autopilot. His body seemed to move forward by itself, like he was watching a movie. Without further insistence he peeled the pitbull’s underwear down under his balls. Harold’s paw found it’s way to the tip of Vaughn’s uncut member, peeling back the foreskin slowly. It was hardly an introduction, yet the wolverine slid his lips down on the member like they’d known each other for years. He listened to the pitbull hiss as his skin slid back only to be covered by the hot muzzle of the older man. 

“Mmm, someone’s done this before. What are you in for? Did you get caught sucking off your boss on company time or something?” Harold began to pull back, he nearly retched as he was forcefully shoved back down. Forced ino the pibull’s musky pubes, the soft fur smelling even stronger of the dog’s masculine scent. “Ah ah, that wasn’t a cue for conversation big guy, more of a joke. Focus on the task at hand.” 

Harold gagged for breath, choking for air as his throat clenched around the 8 inches of dog bone. Vaughn seemed to be enjoying it as he grunted, thrusting casually even as the wolverine beneath him scrambled for air. Finally he let go, Harold able to pull back enough to get more of a proper breath.  The sweet air was short lived, thrust back down on the pitbull’s cock. the thrusting was more eager this time. “Don’t worry rookie, you’re almost done. Don’t mistake me for a quick cum, but I had another bitch working on me before Simms got here. Someone told me one of the guards were coming my way so I had to pack it in, so you have your work cut out for you. We’ll have you learn endurance soon enough.”

Harold could barely process what was being said, all he heard was the guttural moan of the dog above him. The tidal wave of heat assaulted his throat, the fat knob was already well into his throat, Harold had no choice but to swallow. Gagging and retching as he tried to gulp down the onslaught of canine seed, finally Harold was released completely, falling onto his back and gasping for air. His suit was drizzled with cum and saliva, Vaughn just chuckled, “A bit sloppy, but not bad for a first time. Whatever cock you were sucking before mine must not have anything on me. Still, you have some skills.”