[b]Uber Carry – Overworked Office Fox[/b]

Frustrated the chunky Rottweiler slapped the armrest of his chair. "Yeah, yeah, yeah... I know! But still they pull this shit! I've been trying to close this deal for weeks... All was set!" he growled into the telephone, pausing his rambling only long enough to pull a draw from his cigar. "Oh for god's sake, Jacob, you don't piss on a twelve million Dollar deal over that!" He leaned forward, almost standing at his desk already. "No... There's got to be more to it. We have--" he was cut short, but talked over the other voice right away. "It was all brokered already! There wasn't any reason to. And that's beside the point anyway. The expenses alone... Jacob, I lost a shit ton of money on this wasted deal! NOT TO MENTION THE PROFIT WE'RE MISSING OUT ON!!!"

"Alright, boss, I got the files you... wanted..." his office clerk, Limon, announced as he entered the room, just as Mr. Hollard barked that last sentence into the receiver. The fennec's huge ears immediately folded down as he trailed off, while stumbling right into his employer's tantrum. He didn't know the details, but he already got wind of some huge deal that apparently went south. Far south, by the sound of it!

Hesitantly the small fox crept closer to the dog's desk, the files he was sent to retrieve clutched to his chest. When he was throwing a fit like this, it was best to leave the short tempered Rottweiler alone for a while, until he had cooled down again. And that was exactly what Limon was planning to do. "I'll just leave these here for you, boss..." he whispered and put the files down on the desk, while Mr. Hollard was busy shouting into his phone.

"Of course I'm angry! And rightfully so. This isn't just about a foul deal. You don't pull off shit like this!" Angrily he rose from his seat, holding the receiver right in front of his face now. "Not with a longstanding business partner. Not with ME! THIS IS EXACTLY THE KINDA SHIT I DON'T NEED TO DEAL WITH RIGHT NOW! OR AT ALL!!" he finished, yelling through the entire office and slamming the receiver down with a growl. Panting he was leaned over his desk, the thick cigar still smoldering in his grasp. "Limon! Come here this minute and get down on your knees!"

The sneaking fox immediately froze in place at those words, his features dropping. Fuck! He almost made it to the door! "Y-yes, boss..." he swallowed, then turned slowly to approach the boiling dog. Mr. Hollard was already intimidating when he had a good day. But in a mood like this, he was downright terrifying! It would be wise not to anger him any further, so the tiny fennec obeyed dutifully and went down on his knees beside the canine's desk. Nervously he waited and flinched when the much larger dog suddenly moved closer to him. Limon gulped when his boss eventually stood right before him, towering far above him. The Rottweiler was almost three times the size of the fennec and easily five times as heavy!

"Ngrrrrr... Who the fuck does this puffed-up blowhard think he is?!" Mr. Hollard growled and in his rage lunged out with his leg. In an instant his polished, black dress shoe would come forth again with immense speed and strike the kneeling desert fox straight in the stomach.

"GARRGH!" the kick hit Limon mostly unprepared and, for a second, pushed all air out of his dainty body. Then he sharply inhaled and instantly felt a massive wave of pain spread through his lower abdomen. "Argh..." He noticed that the powerful blow had nearly send him toppling over and leaned forward to steady himself, but his midsection was so punch-drunk that he simply couldn't muster the strength. Before his head would hit the ground, the fox caught himself on his hands and uttered a shrill sound that carried his shock and pain.

As the fennec dropped to his hands, gasping for air, his attacker rounded him and, once he stood right beside him, spoke again, "That stupid, self-righteous FUCKER!" Another kick met its mark and the fierce impact to Limon's already agonized belly sent the light fox up to cower on his hands and knees. It was obvious that the dog wasn't holding back much, if at all. "Thinks he can screw me over like it's NOTHING!" Another kick followed that made the trembling fox sputter. "Thinks he's smart for pissing on my work and EFFORT! Rubbing this fat twelve million dollar deal under my NOSE! Telling me all is BUTTONED UP! Only to give it away over a three decimal PERCENTAGE! Not a fucking ounce of loyalty in his sodding AIRHEAD!"

Again and again Mr. Hollard's immaculate leather shoes smashed into Limon's supple, little stomach like a hammer trying to tap in a particularly stubborn nail. Five, six, seven kicks... and then the poor battered fox lost count. It could have been a good dozen, or even more. All the fox could perceive anymore was the overwhelming, agonizing pain in his entire abdomen. Honestly, weren't it for the perpetually hits he received, the fox would be on the ground already. And that's exactly what happened when the Rottweiler finally put his paw back down on the floor.

"Ugh! Uhrrrgh..." With a weak, gurgling sound Limon collapsed and suddenly felt the scratchy carped on his cheek. "Hffffff-ugh-huuhh..." He breathed in and on its way out, the air carried his pathetic whimper. Tears of pain further obscured his already fuzzy vision and rolled over his face. He clutched his massively abused belly and already the slightest touch felt like it could make his organs explode. "Gargh!" And to top it off, his boss suddenly slammed his expensive leather shoe down into Limon's crying, distorted face. The kick wasn't as harsh as the ones before, but definitely enough to leave a little bruise. And what's worse, the demeaning shoe wouldn't budge. Passing out would have been a blessing for the fox now! But unfortunately, due to his natural resilience and the high pain tolerance he'd build up over the years, he was trapped in his excruciating reality. "Kmmph-hmmpfff..."

With his fangs bared, Mr. Hollard began to ground his sole on the prostrated fennec's face, giving his employee some serious pressure. "Brrrrrr! Fuck this spineless prize idiot. He's not worth the trouble," the Rottweiler growled, sounding a bit more worked off, now that he had vented his rage on the helpless fox. He kept standing like this for a few more moments, his cigar still firm in his grip as he observed the writhing boy beneath his tread. "Hmff..." he made eventually and released Limon to return to his desk and sit down in his large, comfortably executive chair with a sigh. He took a huff from his cigar, before putting it down on the edge of the crystal ashtray to open a drawer to his left. He pulled a glass and a bottle of brandy from it. Disregarding his victim, the dog poured himself a six-hundred dollar drink and leaned back.

Twitching uncontrollably from the pain, Limon silently sobbed on the floor as he tried to hold back his tears and calm his breathing. It was a good thing he didn't have his lunch already, otherwise he probably would have made a mess. "Urrgh!" It felt like his insides could still spill out of him any moment anyway. Limon was used to a lot of pain and discomfort, but this was a lot to endure even for him! "Guh-huff... Hrgh-ouh..."

Slowly, groaning and unsteady, the poor fox eventually began to pick himself up. With his right arm he pushed himself up, while his left one was protectively wrapped around his midsection. His breathing was ragged and every pant send a shock through his tenderized abdomen. "Hgnnnrr..." Finally Limon managed to haul himself up onto his knees. The fennec looked truly pathetic now. His entire body trembled, his tail hung feeble between his legs, his already delicate form looked even more fragile now and his usually proud ears were dropped like flags in still air. His distorted, wheezing face hung close to the ground, battered and miserable, and every muscle in his wiry body seemed tense. It must have been a feat for him to only remain standing!

"Hh-grnn...." With staggering, small steps the fox began to move, crawling like a beaten street dog. Though it wasn't the door he was headed to in his pitiful state, but the very center of power in this room: Mr. Hollard's desk. It took him a good few moments, but eventually Limon huddled right in front of his boss again, right beside the large table, the dog's dangerous feet resting before him on the ground. "Hurgh-gah..." With a distressed sob, Limon lowered his head further down until his wet nose connected with the smooth leather of his boss' shoe. Panting for a moment on the black surface, he finally stuck out his tiny tongue and dragged it over the pristine shoe. His eyes only half open, the tormented fox now devotedly licked the very same shoes clean that had maltreated him just moments ago. And as he did so, the pain in his stomach hadn't subsided at all yet. "Gurgh... I'm s-sorry, uhff... th-that you, urgh!" his voice was hoarse and he had trouble getting the words out and air back into his body. "Hurgh... that you had to d-e-eaurl with such inconveniences today, bo-orghss..." he eventually managed to say, promptly pressing his tongue back to the Rottweiler's shoe once he had.

Mr. Hollard didn't interfere in the slightest to stop the fennec from his self-depreciating behavior. For a few long moments he just observed his clerk submissively licking his shoes, while he took a calming puff from his slowly waning cigar. It was obvious that the fox was in a lot of pain. And the dog truly admired Limon's perseverance and the loyalty and humility he showed towards him. Many, or most, other people, even those of larger and stronger build than the fennec, probably would have been a sniveling picture of misery on his carpet after taking near a dozen kicks to the gut, provided they still had their wits about them at all. But here, this meager, puny, small as hell fox still stood. And with devotion and grace he went on about his job as if it was nothing.

"I guess I engaged your services quite a bit today?" the gruff dog eventually spoke, still having his employee tend to his lowest parts. "If you wish, you can call it a day."

The still licking fox was fast to answer, "I, urgh... d-don't think this will be necessary, boss." Tenderly he pressed his quivering tongue to the glistening toecap and lapped over the noble shoe. "You mentioned, you'd require my assistance later today, urgh... t-to help you relax, ha-ahh..." Again he forced his tongue across the leather. "I guess, you could need it today..."

The dog didn't argue with Limon's reply. Instead he just picked up his drink and leaned back in his chair. Casually he lifted both his feet from the ground and propped them up on the swaying fennec's slender back. Letting out a long sigh to finally let his frustration about the bad deal go, Mr. Hollard sipped on his brandy, then let the glass rest on his belly as his gaze wandered through the room. "You know..." he spoke in a rather content tone. "Without you, this damn company wouldn't run half as smooth as it does."

It was a rare and unusually honest commendation for the fox's hard work. And it was appreciated. "Well... I'm glad I can be of service," Limon said, wincing at a new wave of pain that shook his body. "Though..." He lifted his hanging head a little and bit back his agony for a second to sound more resolute. As resolute as one could in his defeated position anyway. "I still want that raise I mentioned earlier!"

A chuckled rumbled in Hollard's throat and eventually also resonated through Limon's weakened form. "Hah! Not in your dreams!"

"Hurgh... y-you just said yourself, hmphff... that I'm basically responsible for half the company's burgeoning!"

Gazing into his brandy with a smirk, the Rottweiler purposefully twisted his foot a bit to drive his heel into the kneeling fennec's ribs. "I said you make it run smooth. You're not a cash cow!" He clarified, taking another swig. "And besides, we just lost a twelve million dollar deal! We need to cut costs!"

Even thought the sting in his back made him flinch, Limon rolled his eyes. "You're planning to spent over three hundred and fifty thousand dollars to move your office three stories up!" Tight money certainly wasn't the issue here. "And at least as much again for the new company car. That'd be more than enough to afford me a bonus."

"That's because I'm the boss," Mr. Hollard retorted patronizingly, hiding his smirk behind his brandy, even though the fox couldn't see it anyways. "I gotta look and act the part. And actually, that's not even any of your business, office clerk!" Again he pressed his shoe's heel into the frail body below, this time putting even more weight into it, "Don't be so nosy!"

"Grgh..." Limon groaned as the hard sole scraped over his spine. "C-can't be helped if you have me do all the damn paperwork, boss. Besides..." He paused for a brief moment to catch his breath. "The new guy got a raise just fine!"

"Yeah," the dog admitted casually as if it wasn't humiliating the fennec to be overlooked for a newbie. Continuing to poke the skinny body below his heels, he added, "That's because he worked his ass off and got a promotion."

"Am I not busting my back for you?" Limon queried, bravely pushing his back up against his boss' subjugating force to empathize his point.

"Well, you sure as hell talk back a damn lot more than he does!"

"I'm just taking a stand for fair rates."

"You already got a raise last year!" the Rottweiler rumbled, sounding a bit more stern now, but still lighthearted enough.

"That was when you promoted ME to become your personal assistant, slash seat cushion, slash whipping boy! And I worked a lot harder this year!"

Huffing through his nose, Mr. Hollard simply stated, "You're not getting a raise, Limon. Period!" and then put one of his legs up over the other on the wobbling fennec's back.

Limon winced as the – intentionally – rough movement on top of him made his body ache again. "Grgh..." he swallowed, biting back any further sharp remarks. Damn! He really wanted that raise. And he definitely deserved it, he knew Hollard knew it too! But what was he to do about the dog's decision now? He was beaten, defeated, humiliated, and with his boss' paws still resting on his back like he owned him, he was in no position to negotiate either. And from this pathetic stance it was a simple matter for Mr. Hollard to take the last bit of hope away from him. Fuck! This dog knew exactly what he was doing – and he enjoyed it, savored it even! "Yes, boss..." the fox sighed with a dry throat as he hung his head.

A moment of silence passed, before the Rottweiler spoke up again. "Speaking of the new boy," he murmured around his cigar, "you got acquainted with him a bit, didn't you? What do you think of Perry?"

The desert fox's large ears perked a little and a faint smile crossed his battered face at the chance for a little side blow. "He's too innocent to work for you!" Limon jibed.

"Heh, I'm not so sure about that," the business dog chuckled. "That boy's not as pristine as he looks!"

Craning his neck up a bit, Limon raised a brow. "W-what do you mean?" he wanted to know, but only got a hearty laugh from the Rottweiler. "What did you DO?"

"Just properly worked him in," Hollard retorted, failing to sound innocent, when a sudden beep interrupted their conversation.

A friendly, female voice spoke from the intercom on the Rottweiler's desk, "Sir, Mr. Atkins would like to see you now."

"Ah, right... the revisions..." he murmured to himself, ignoring the fox for a moment as he leaned over his desk to press a button on the intercom. "Send him in, please," he instructed, before leaning back and downing the rest of his drink. After another moment the dog lifted his feet from Limon's back and returned to a more formal posture. "Go and see him in!"

With a groan the fennec sat down and carefully straightened his back, so as not to bring too much movement to his still very much banged up stomach. Though, at his boss' words his ears dropped again and the small fox peered up to the man who commanded him like a thrall. "A-after this...?" he winced and held his belly.

With a stern expression the Rottweiler stared down at the kneeling, weary fox. "Would this be a problem for you?" he asked in a threatening tone.

Dominated Limon lowered his eyes and swallowed. "N-no, boss..." He sighed and grit his teeth. "Of course not..."

"Good. Then go and do something for the raise you want so badly!" Roughly he shoved his large hand into Limon's face and pushed him away, making him almost topple over.

Grumbling just loud enough that he knew his boss would hear, Limon picked himself up entirely from the ground and approached the door. He walked slow, was hunched over and still supported his aching midsection. And when he reached his destination, he was just about to lower himself back to the ground when the guest came in already. Hastily Limon laid himself down on his back and pulled his crumpled, white business shirt up over his chest. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Atk-k-ARRRGH!"

A short, stocky ram with white fur, clad in a black suit, entered the office with clacking steps. His sturdy horns coiled themselves around his scull and the little tuft of fur on his chin gave him a somewhat youthful touch, considering his age. The man didn't as much as stop for Limon on his way. Unaware of the fennec's previous torture and uncaring about the pain he was causing him now, Mr. Atkins stepped up onto the fox's exposed belly right away, forcing a shriek of pain out of Limon.

The man's hard, edged hooves crushed down into the fox's abdomen with brute force, sinking deep into his supple flesh. "Urgh..." Mercilessly his already maltreated belly was assaulted again, sending a renewed, massive wave of pain through his entire body. It was like ripping a healing wound open!

"Gahhap!" Rearing up, Limon let out a ragged breath when the man standing on him eventually began to utilize him. "Hrrrgh..." Without the slightest consideration for the suffering fox below him, Mr. Atkins dragged his harsh hooves over Limon's white belly fur to wipe them on him like on a mere doormat. "Gharrrgh..." With closed eyes he pressed his chin to his sternum, biting back the tears and the urge to scream with pain. It hurt so god damn much! And the mean ass ram surely took his time to clean his hooves. "Hurghh..."

When he was finally done, Mr. Atkins simply dismissed the writhing fennec, who immediately rolled up into a sobbing furball once the tormenting pair of hooves finally left his body. Ruthlessly he left the fox lying on the ground and walked over to his host and business partner, greeting him like an old friend.

Meanwhile Limon gasped for air on the ground, holding his belly with both hands to soothe the pain. He coughed dryly and almost felt as if he had to throw up, but other than more pain nothing came. This fucking bastard! Atkins never really cared to hold back on him. Instead he particularly enjoyed to make sure Limon understood that such sacrifices were a trifle to be asked of him.

"Hey, office fox!" Mr. Atkins suddenly called out, showing little to no remorse for the state Limon was in. "Where are your manners? My hooves need a polish!" By now the ram was situated on one of the small couches in front of Mr. Hollard's desk, idly leaned back with one leg draped over the other. When the still prostrated fennec didn't react immediately to his command, the sheep turned his head to the Rottweiler. "What's the matter? He never took it this bad before."

The dog only chuckled, before admitting, "I'm sorry, I think I might have overused him a little before you arrived." Then he raised his voice a tad. "But I'm sure he'll be at your service in a moment."

Limon's ears twitched. He knew that last line was actually directed towards him. "Hnrrrgh..." Carefully he pushed himself up onto his elbows, panting from the sheer exertion his body was undergoing. "Hrgf-huff-huff... y-yes, Mr. Atkins. Hrgh! I'll s-see to it right, ugh... away..."

With the last strength he could muster, Limon crossed the room on his hands and knees. And once he arrived at the couch, the ram was already immersed in his conversation with the dog again, not taking heed of the mauled fennec kneeling before him. Breathing labored, Limon's long ears folded back with shame. This ass was even better than Hollard at making this look like it was common courtesy! As if it was absolutely normal and even called for for him to grovel before those men, serve them like a slave and be denied but the slightest recognition. It made him feel worthless.

"Ahh~" Without a word the small desert fox pressed his delicate tongue to the underside of Mr. Atkins' elevated hoof and wedged it deep into the chasm between the ungulate's cloven-hoofed toes. He felt the hoof spread slightly for him in an unspoken command to advance further and reach every nook and cranny of these depths. And that's what Limon did. He spread his jaws and forced his tongue in deeper than he ever wanted it to be. He felt some fur there. And a hole damn lot of dust and street filth that had accumulated there. "Gurgh!" He drew his sullied tongue back with disgust, swallowed despite the shame and humiliation he felt and squeezed it right back into this hellhole.

It was utterly degrading to do this to a customer. Much more so since Mr. Atkins kept his conversation with the dog up as if it was nothing. And Limon's boss let it all happen, encouraged it even! He was lent out to this man like a cheap whore. He was Mr. Hollard's personal assistant – actually he was the man's right hand! He was a secretary to this dog, an advisor, a confidant, even a partner in crime when it was for the better of the company and his boss (he began here as an accountant, after all) – Hell, he was very much able to represent the CEO if need be and he already did so on many occasions! And yet he was here, on his knees, licking this client's disgusting hooves clean like he was the lowest swamper in the business. And his boss wasn't even willing to consider giving him a raise. It was debasing!

"Hgn-ahh..." And yet Limon did what was expected of him. He knew better than to argue with his superior in front of a customer, let alone one as influential as Atkins! This ram has been one of the closest business partners of his boss, long before Limon even got his degree. So if this bastard wanted his filthy hooves cleaned, the fox would genuflect and do the job. "Hurgh..." And he would do it thoroughly, much to the ungulate's delight, who was ankle deep into the fennec's widely spread muzzle by now.

Limon wheezed around the hoof, his tired tongue lolling out of his maw. He felt the man's well-pedicured, but still hard and rough foot clearly in the very back of his throat, resting there, teasing his insides occasionally with a flex. The fox had to gag more often than not. And every convulsion of his ill-treated body caused the pain in his abdomen to surge again. His eyes were half-lidded and teary, a thin string of spit drooled from his agape muzzle. His throat was dry and sore beyond a bearable point and he wanted nothing more than a glass of water to ease the anguish, or at least be able to swallow freely again. Though the condescending ram wouldn't even think about relieving the fox at his mercy. Instead he really pulled no punches and forced his thick hoof in as deep as he could to torture Limon even more!

"Hrchrrgh!" Choking audibly, Limon's trembling hand reached for his neck to calm the affected area. It could have been only imagination, but he almost swore he could feel a bulge there! What certainly wasn't imagination, though, was the set of dewclaws that scraped over the back of his tongue. Fuck! Just how far was this filthy jerk going to push him?! "Hrmmghrk..." Fresh tears rolled over Limon's yellow cheeks, moistening his short, dense fur on their way. But despite all the pain and discomfort he was in right now, the brave fennec didn't flinch from the duty that was required of him. He did the only thing he could do: Keep his maw wide open for this man to abuse it at his discretion.

It was a relatively short-lived visit, considering the bond between the two businessmen, so Limon only had to endure the sheep's hooves for about two hours in his muzzle, before Mr. Atkins finally announced his departure. "In any case, I'll have this done and send it over here before the end of the month. Though I really gotta go now. Still have a meeting to attend." Finally paying the fox servicing him some real attention for the first time since he arrived, the ram peered down at Limon with a pleased, unbothered grin as he slowly pulled his right hoof out of his gullet. He basked in the fennec's distress! "Was good seeing you again, clerk. My hooves haven't been this clean in a while, haha!"

Limon retched loudly when he was finally freed of the invasive appendage. Now relieved of the pressure, his posture slumped, his head hanging weakly between his shoulders, the weary eyes trained to the ground where a set of still slightly wet hooves stood. He wheezed, glad to be able to breath freely again. The only thing that remained was the pain. And a nasty, musty taste on the fox's sore tongue. "Th-thank you very much, huff... Mr. Atkins," Limon whispered hoarsely, trying to contain the shame and frustration he felt for having to express his gratitude for what this guy just did to him. "It's always argh... pleasure to have you here. Hmphf... I hope you will visit us again soon!"

"Oh, for sure!" the ram said derisively, turning for the door. And his very first step deliberately landed on the cowering fox's left hand. His rock-hard hoof crushed Limon's dainty fingers against the carpeted floor and he let the fox feel his full weight as he walked over them. "See you, James!" he waved to the Rottweiler on his way out.

"Gha-ARGHH!" Limon cried as the hefty ram suddenly trampled over his hand.  For a second he was sure at least one, or two of his fingers were broken, but when the unrelenting hoof moved on and the fox could pull his hand back, he was relieved to find them still in functioning condition, albeit painfully. Even through his fur he could see the imprint the cloven hooves had left on his skin! "O-ouch..." he whined as he gently rubbed over his bruised knuckles. Limon was more and more under the impression that this guy was down on predators for some reason. Or foxes in particular. This behavior went far past an ego trip. He didn't just want to push around an office fox, he intended to hurt Limon!

Not bothering to pick himself up from the floor, Limon sighed heavily and leaned against his boss' desk for support. He didn't care whether he looked indecent right now. This was one hell of a work day and he needed a breather now! The Rottweiler didn't say anything, so once he got his breath steadied, it was Limon who broke the silence. "Are you still saying, I don't deserve a raise?" he asked croaky, but with a certain belligerence in his voice.

"Ugh, not this again..." Hollard murmured, seemingly more annoyed now than the first time this topic came up. "Look, I appreciate your effort," he reasoned, though still kept his patronizing tone. "But you've provided this kind of service before already. Multiple times. Why do you feel like making such a big deal out of it now?"

The fox's tired eyes narrowed. "Because," he began, making an effort to sound as determined as he was, "you, and especially some of your 'VIP clients' have been getting more and more demanding as of late." Again he rubbed his already swelling fingers. "You're becoming a real sweater, honestly..."

The Rottweiler's reaction came prompt, albeit less affronted than the fennec would have expected. "You're already getting enough compensation to make up for your unpleasantries!" he stated firmly, sounding rather business like now and also kinda final on the matter. Again!

Of course Limon knew exactly what the dog referred to. In total numbers, his salary was quite stately, no doubt. But compared to the actual 'work' he was going through here, it looked rather meager. Especially on days like this! But his paycheck was hardly the only benefit he got from the company. His pension plan was handsomely subsidized. He got paid leave nearly whenever he wanted (or needed) it. He could travel on the firm's expense, board and lodging included. Not to mention the annual bonus payment he received. It was true. All things considered, he WAS compensated enough to suck hoof for a while and take a few blows. But honestly, this raise debate never was about money to begin with. Limon knew quite well that Hollard would never agree to it. And that's exactly why he kept bugging him with it! To start an argument he couldn't win. And here he was, once again. Defeated. Denied. On the floor, groveling beside his boss' paws like a bondman in serfdom...

At length the fox let out a sigh, "Ughh, I need a break..." Lifting himself from the ground with a labored groan, Limon limped over to the seating area, Atkins had sat in a few moments ago. There, nicely draped on a silver tray on a side stand, always at the ready to quench a client's thirst, waited a carafe for him, filled to the brim with refreshing water. He poured himself a glass and downed it in one go, eagerly. "Ahh~" he gasped relieved, once his most urgent malady was appeased. Exhausted his small frame flopped back into the soft couch, ears drooping, eyes closed.

For the time being, the Rottweiler disregarded his personal assistant, granting him the small breather he doubtlessly deserved and needed right now, while spreading out the files, Limon had brought him earlier, in front of himself. Though at some point the dog's wintery eyes moved up from the documents and focused on the unwinding desert fox. "You're crying me a river about deserving a raise, but you won't even work your hours. You're not on break for another hour!" he said in a calm, but threatening voice. And then the hefty dog suddenly rose from his seat. Circling his massive desk, he wordlessly approached the reclined fox until he stood right in front of him, menacingly.

Limon blinked nervously, his large ears folding even further down. Though he remained laid back on the couch under his boss' condemning gaze. He gulped when the much larger canine eventually moved, "Hurghh!" and planted his right foot on the fox's unprotected belly. "Bargh!" Mr. Hollard leaned forward, putting more and more of his weight onto the fennec's body. His black, polished dress shoe crushed his abdomen flat, the toecap chafing uncomfortably beneath his lower ribs. Again pain filled Limon's trembling body and he gasped, almost choking on the ragged breath he drew in. "Hrgnnnn..." His attention was suddenly diverted from his flattened stomach, when the dog grabbed his red, rumpled tie and forcefully yanked it upwards. He choked, trapped in the treacherous garment, when his shocked, pleading eyes met the Rottweiler's intense stare.

"Listen here, you little dipshit!" he growled into the struggling fox's face. "I pay a good deal of money for your much esteemed services. And for this little fortune you cost me, I expect you to do your actual work, while you're on the clock, and not flop down in my office like it's your damn living room! You're here to work! Did I make myself clear?!"

"Hrmgh! Ghnnng..." With Mr. Hollard basically standing on his midsection, while hoisting his upper body up by the tie around his neck, Limon felt like a twisted folding chair someone tried to collapse by force. The shoe on his stomach kept his lower spine flat to the couch, while the uplift bent the rest of his backbone uncomfortably around the toecap. The strain in his back was intense, not to mention the fact that he got strangled with his own tie! "Grk-kchhh... y-yes, boss... Argh!" he replied through grit teeth.

"Good," the Rottweiler huffed as a grin crept over his weathered face. "Then let's get back to work!"

Rearing back up, the dog eventually took his foot from Limon's gut. Though, much to the fox's dismay, didn't release his tie. "Krrrchg!" Instead the massive man dragged his diminutive employee back to his desk on it. And he didn't bother to give him enough room to breath! Like a noose the makeshift leash tightened around Limon's neck, while he stumbled in his boss' wake. "Hmmrgh!" Once there, he was unceremoniously hauled up into the large executive chair, where his constricting tie finally fluttered down onto his coughing chest. Immediately the fox reached for his throat to loosen the tightened knot and sucked in a much needed breath when he eventually succeeded. "Hah-haff... n-no!" he gasped startled as he saw his boss' massive ass loom above himself as it made to sit down. "Argh! Boss, come one. Please don't!" But the enormous rump was already descending. Desperately Limon propped his arms up on their elbows in an attempt to stop the inevitable. His small paws pressed firmly into the Rottweiler's supple butt and he immediately felt the pressure build in his frail bones. "Hrrrrgh! P-please, boss... Argh! G-gimme a break... Uh-uhrgh-UGHMMMPHFF!" But with a little wiggle, Mr. Hollard quickly managed to shove his weak arms out of the way and plant his ass on the small fennec fox. Darkness surrounded Limon as the entirety of his head and torso was engulfed by his boss' warmth and heft. His head was pressed into the soft upholstery, his face distorted beneath the smooth fabric of Mr. Hollard's suit pants. Simultaneously the man's unbelievable weight settled down on Limon's chest and belly, crushing both flat like a feather pillow under a boulder. The air forcefully left his body with a muffled wheeze and was replaced only with pain and pressure as the chunk on top of him came to rest at last.

The tiny fox struggled weakly under his boss, but movement was nearly impossible. There was no escape anymore. Once the dog was seated, he'd only get up again when his work was done. The only thing Limon could do now was calm his nerves, steady his shallow breathing and endure the pain. Being put into this position was already uncomfortable enough itself, considering the fact that Mr. Hollard weighed around five times as much as the fennec. But with Limon's stomach as abused as it was, the pain felt much worse this time as the dog's fat asscheeks shifted on him! He whined occasionally, but nothing he uttered would make it to the ears of the man sitting on him. Or if it did, Mr. Hollard didn't care. At least the warmth that radiated from the butt atop him, was somewhat soothing to his kicked muscles. A crumb of comfort.

The business dog kept true to his words and rested on Limon's worn out form for what had to be an hour. An hour full of darkness, heat and pressure for the fox, while the only thing he could still perceive was the occasional rustling of paper as his boss went through the files he'd brought him earlier. If only he'd made it to the door in time, then he wouldn't have to suffer like this right now! Five more steps were all it would have taken. Three more seconds and he would have been spared hours of pain!

After what felt like an eternity – even though this was by far not the longest time he'd ever been sat on! - the Rottweiler eventually rose from his living seat cushion. "Ah-hchrrgh!" A sharp pain shot through Limon's chest as he filled his lungs with a gust of fresh air. He sputtered, rearing up with a series of coughs, then flopped back down when his abs failed to the pain. "Grnnnh..." Clutching his midsection with both arms, the grimacing desert fox rolled onto his side and unceremoniously off the edge of the chair, hitting the ground with a weak groan. "Ourgh! Boss, please s-stop..."

The dog chuckled dryly as he looked down at the ailing boy. "You want it really bad today, huh?" Uncaring for his employee's pain, he put his right foot to Limon's shoulder and shoved him hard. The light fox toppled over like an empty cardboard box, landing on his back with a hiss, right beside the mighty desk. Within seconds the Rottweiler towered over him again and once more he lifted his right foot from the ground. Slowly he put his fine dress shoe down on Limon's belly, letting his paw rest there idly. "Now I'll finish you off. Then you can take your break," he sneered, grinning down.

Limon's breathing quickened as he felt the new threat on his most wrought body part. It was frightening how the mere presence of this man's foot could be so intimidating. The trembling fox reached up, wrapping his shaky paws around Mr. Hollard's thick ankle in fear. "P-please..." he begged, his voice a quivering sob, ears down. "Please, boss... no more... I c-can't, HUARGH!" Limon saw starts for a moment when his boss' left foot lifted from the ground. Instantly the Rottweiler's entire two hundred pounds crushed down on the diminutive fennec's already ill-treated belly. The black shoe quite literally flattened his stomach, crushing every organ on it's way down, until the fox's midsection bottomed out. It felt as if his entire lower half was flash-frozen, then stabbed with a knife. "Hrrrgh..." he sucked in a ragged breath and tightened his hands around the ankle in his grip. "Boss, urgh! P-please, get off!" Limon pleaded, tears welling in his eyes. But the dog didn't budge. Instead, he did something even more vile. Holding onto his desk for support, Mr. Hollard forcefully ground his shoe into Limon's abdomen, twisting it left and right as if grinding a cigarette butt. "GYAHRRRGH!"

The fox sent out a cry of pure pain and horror as his tender innards got churned up. The shrill scream echoed through the spacious office and was probably still audible in the hallway on the other side of the receiving room. Limon's clenched fists released Mr. Hollard's ankle, his arms dropped to the floor like heavy rubber tubes. His muzzle stood agape, a faint rattle in his throat. His upper body reared up, but there was no strength left in his muscles, so he was soon flat to the ground again, staring up at his tormentor with eyes wide as saucers. The black-furred dog was smiling down at him.

When Hollard's foot stood still again, the pain it had caused certainly didn't subside. Limon felt like he was shot in the gut an bleeding out. Then the weight on top of him shifted again and the helpless fox whimpered when his boss' other shoe settled on his chest. The sole felt cold and hard through the light shirt he wore and his dense fur beneath it. With teary eyes he blinked, looking up to his boss, pleading for mercy. "B-boss..." he whined, shaking his head. And then Mr. Hollard trod down, slowly adding more and more of his immense weight onto Limon's left breast. "Ah!" he gasped, when he felt the air leave his lungs by force, followed by a panicked, "Ehrrg!" when he wasn't able to suck enough new air in. Then, suddenly, even more weight was added and it felt as if his ribs would break like dry twigs any second now, as the massive Rottweiler moved atop him. "Hmmrghh..." Limon held his breath, knowing full well that, if he were to exhale now, the consequences would be dire. Then he saw Hollard's second shoe come down on his right chest, settling right beside the first to even the load.

The black leather covered Limon's entire chest now. The heels were pressing down on his lowest ribs, while Hollard's toecaps practically stood on his neck. Desperately Limon tried to draw breath, but it was as if his lungs were clogged. Nothing would go in! Only out, whenever he gasped, or groaned from the pain. And every time it happened, his boss came a bit further down, crushing his ribcage painfully flat under his smooth soles. "Gmph!" Limon made, forcing himself to hold the lifesaving oxygen in just one moment longer. But he knew he was fighting a forlorn battle and his time was running out. And so knew the dog. "Kck-k-k... Huffff..." he wheezed pathetically when his resolve faded and the man on top of him caved his ribs in even further. "Nnnngh, boss!" he hissed through grit teeth. "S-stop it, ghmpf... I c-can't... breath!" His legs kicked softly behind them, his claws dug into the carpet.

But again the Rottweiler didn't move one inch. He just stood there, casually observing the gruesome scene beneath his paws with a hint of satisfaction and fascination.

Another attempt to inhale remained futile and, in fact, reduced Limon's air reserves even further. "K-kffff, booooss..." He grate his teeth and the throbbing veins on his neck bulged. But still no relief. And eventually there was no holding it back anymore. With a soft, rattling wheeze the little air still left in his lungs was squeezed out of them, resulting in a fleshy, popping sound from his ribcage as it was crushed down into his body. "Gyarrgh!" Limon's eyes rolled back as he retched dryly from the pain. He relaxed his body for a second, feeling nothing but the immense pressure on his sternum. Then the fennec inhaled as powerfully as he could. The amount of air he managed to suck in was probably little more than the volume of the yellow plastic shell inside a Kinder egg. His chest simply couldn't expand with two hundred pounds of dog standing on it! But it was enough to keep him going just a few seconds longer.

Under Mr. Hollard's pitiless, sharp eyes, the barely conscious fox finally craned his neck up with a jerk and slammed his nose to the glistening, polished toecaps that stood on  his collar bones. He chocked as he bent his throat around the shoe, but kissed his boss' lowest part nonetheless. Weakly he lapped his tiny tongue over the smooth surface, in what looked to be a rather uncomfortable manner. "Hrchhh... hrchhh... hrchhh... p-ple-e-eas, boss... hrchhh... I... b-begging... can't, hrchhh... airgh!"

But again the Rottweiler stoically remained standing where he was and only watched intrigued as Limon humbled himself by licking his shoes despite the pathetic and, no doubt, very painful position he was in. The fox's perseverance was indeed remarkable!

"Urgh!" With his tongue pressed to his boss' shoe for yet another groveling lick, Limon suddenly winced in pain, his closed eyes opening slightly again. Then his head slumped back down to the floor and the fox squealed in an desperate attempt to breath. He failed. "Hu... hou..." he gasped with what certainly would be his last words before the lack of oxygen would render him unconscious. "...'ollard!"

Swiftly, yet somewhat carefully, the Rottweiler took one step to the side, prompting a ragged cry from his victim, before eventually also relieving the choking fennec of his other foot. For a brief moment he could see just how far his weight had depressed the boy's ribs: Limon's small chest was dented like a fruit crate after a bear sat on it, every single bone visible under his short, white fur! Then a loud, powerful gasp filled the dog's office and the squashed chest puffed up.

In slow, but powerful breaths Limon sucked fresh air in and exhaled again to keep awake. He ignored the intense stinging in his lungs as he did. And slowly his fuzzy eyes sharpened again. Gingerly he raised one of his unsteady paws and brought it down on his front. His chest felt cold, but everything seemed to be still there and working. Rolling onto his side somewhat with a groan, Limon sighed relieved and breathed. Just breathed.

Leaned onto the edge of his desk, Mr. Hollard watched the recovering fox mindfully. He was utterly beat, exhausted and looked especially vulnerable right now. In some way, the old dog even found it cute, the way this downright tiny lad writhed in pain on the ground, right at his paws. The knowledge to be the source of Limon's dread and suffering was empowering. He absolutely loved the feeling to be able to abuse and humiliate his office clerk to his heart's content! This fox wasn't simply working for him, Limon was his! His possession, his servant, his work whore, his office fox and, if the Rottweiler demanded it, he also was his punching bag.

"I admire your endurance, Limon," he said sincerely, in a rather collected voice. "I think we should--"

"Boss!" Limon's quivering, hoarse voice cut the dog short. He was still facing the ground, by now propped up on his hands and knees unsteadily. His breathing was still labored, but more steady already, and his large, yellow ears were cautiously perked a little. "Please, boss..." he whimpered, his voice breaking, "p-please I'm begging you... stop!" Submissively he lowered his forehead to the ground, a sob caught in his throat. "I'll do everything you want, but please, please... no more..." The fox's graceful back shuddered, likely with fear. "I'll work harder for you, boss! I-I won't mention the raise again! I'll..." he swallowed, "let you use me. But please, please, PLEASE... please make it stop! I'm in so much pain..." Sniffling he made himself even smaller, groveling before his employer like a beaten slave. "I'm begging you, boss!"

Mr. Hollard was silent and listened to the fennec's supplication, until he was done. Then the stocky dog pushed himself up from his desk with a thoughtful, "Mphf." He moved over to the kneeling fox with slow, heavy steps and he enjoyed the trembling in Limon's frail features as he towered above him. He chuckled. "You really want to test my patience today, don't you?" The dog's gruff voice sounded much darker now. "Alright, you pesky, little blighter," he growled and lifted his right leg up into the air. "You asked for this!"

"GUARGH!" Limon cried out in pain when his boss' foot slammed down on him, hitting him square across his lean back. The powerful kick sent him back to hugging the ground. Sprawled out like a trampled spider he grunted in pain. In the reflection of the ceiling-high windows, the fox could vaguely see how the leg raised again. "Boss, stop! JARRRGH!" he screamed at the top of his (no longer too capable) lungs when a second kick struck him. Hollard shot his heel down into Limon's lower back without mercy.

"And how dare you interrupt me, when I'm speaking to you, fox? I would think you have been working under me for long enough now to know how much I despise such rude behavior. I'm your superior, after all, show some RESPECT!" Again and again he stomped his heel harshly into Limon's lower back, carefully avoiding the fox's ribs and spine so as not to cause any permanent harm. Nonetheless, he was not holding back much and every kick he bestowed upon his personal assistant would surely leave a mark Limon would feel for at least a few days. "I hope you finally internalize this lesson, boy. Because I'm growing tired of your impertinent demeanor!" he stated triumphantly, once he deemed the series of kicks he'd dished out were sufficient. That, though, didn't mean the business dog let up on the beaten fox. Now he was pressing his heel down on Limon's upper back, spitefully wedging the shoe's rigid edge between his meager ribs. "Well?"

"Hrmmgh-grrrrragh..." the fennec growled through grit teeth, his arms flailing over the carpet as he tried vainly to crawl away from the pain. It felt as if his bones were jimmied open with a screwdriver like a paint tin! "Haagh! I'm t-terribly sorry for my, nuhrgh... misconduct, boss!"

"I see..." the Rottweiler said coldly, his shoe leaving Limon's bruised back to settle elsewhere now. "So, I take it, from here, you're willing to use your big mouth in a way that's more... pleasant to me, then?" Casually Hollard moved his hovering foot up, past Limon's skinny shoulders to finally bring it down on the fox's likewise skinny neck, pinning him to the ground with far more pressure than was necessary.

Limon quickly turned his head sideways when he felt the cold sole descend on the back of his neck, so that his throat wouldn't get crushed to the ground. A wise decision, because now the fox found his cervical spine forced down to the ground in a rather uncomfortable curve. He was still able to breath like this, but Limon felt every ounce of the pressure, with which Hollard trod down on him, build in his tense muscles. "Guergh!" he groaned, with his cheek rubbing over the scratchy carpet. He felt so powerless! "B-boss, errgh... please let me ha-hmm?" He looked up quizzically when the weight suddenly lifted from his neck. Then Limon flinched when he saw a large, brown hand reach for him.

Mr. Hollard grabbed the little fox firmly by the scruff of his neck and hauled him from the ground. Limon didn't have the strength to resist anymore, so his body hung limp from the man's hand like a wet towel. "Then let's get comfortable..." the Rottweiler mumbled, moving over to the seating area, dragging the fennec with him.

"Hmmph, please..." Limon whimpered hopelessly, while his legs skittered over the ground. Once at their destination, the massive dog sat down on the noble couch with a grunt and spread his legs. Limon was dropped right in front of him and shuddered when he saw that his boss was unzipping his fly. The bulge in the man's posh, black briefs was sizeable already and when he pulled the neat fabric down, his thick boner popped up, already half out of its sheath. Limon gulped, fear in his eyes. "N-no..." he shook his head softly. "No, boss! Please, y-you can't ask this of me!"

The Rottweiler chuckled as he reached behind Limon's head. "I'm not asking!" he admitted and pulled the kneeling fox's small head closer to his growing member.

The fennec pulled back against the urging hand, turning his face away from the dick ahead. "Oh god, don't," he pleaded, putting his hands to the dog's thick thighs to push himself off. "Please don't force me to do this, boss. Boss! Please, please don't..." But his struggle was in vain. The bigger and much stronger canine simply pulled him in until his face was mushed against the hot, throbbing meat. He could smell the day's stress on his boss. A thick, bitter-sweet stench that forced it's way into Limon's brain. "S-stop... I don't want this..."

"Open your damn muzzle, slut!" Hollard growled, pressing his free hand's thumb to Limon's clenched snout. He spread the fox's soft lips and squeezed his claw between the boy's small back teeth to force his jaws apart. The dog met only mild resistance and soon held his subordinate's muzzle wide open. With ease he angled Limon's maw downwards and pushed.

"Haa-agh... hgnn-nnn!" Limon managed to utter with the thick thumb in his mouth. Then something brushed his chin and a second later a warm, musky object slid over his tongue. "Hengh-nnn!" The fox struggled, trying to twist his head free of his boss' grip, but the dog would have been stronger, even when Limon was at his best. Beaten like this, the man could do whatever he wanted with him!

Mr. Hollard growled softly, his tone thick with lust and a hint of amusement. "Stop fighting already and let me fuck your muzzle, fox. That's all you're really good for anyway!" And then he shoved the fennec's head down, stuffing his cute, little muzzle with dick.

"Glrck!" Limon gagged softly when Hollard rammed his tip against the back of his throat. His eyes widened at the realization of how far his boss already had invaded him and how effectless his fightback was. "Errchh..." His head was guided up and down a few times, Hollard's massive dick constantly pressed to his extended tongue. A slightly salty, kinda sharp taste slowly assaulted Limon's taste buds and he huffed around the dick in frustration. That's when he noticed something dripping from his chin. "Haghff..." Fuck! He was drooling like a hungry pup! He knew it was because his muzzle was pried open, but would his boss too? He only hoped the dog wouldn't notice and mock him for it.

In fact, Mr. Hollard didn't seem to care, or notice. He was far to busy with teasing the poor fox in his helpless situation. His cock rubbed over Limon's tongue from all angles, poked him firmly into his cheeks and, once this little foreplay coaxed a drop of precum from his tip, the Rottweiler crudely smeared it to the roof of Limon's muzzle. "Mmh... Alright, I think I'm plenty slick now," he murred, pressing the fennec's head a bit further down now and thus his dick deeper into the warm mouth, holding it there for a moment.

Limon's breath was quick and short now, his pleading, amber eyes peered up in one last attempt to coax some mercy from his taskmaster. But the gruff man only starred down on him, panting with lust. The fox averted his gaze in shame, squeezed the soft thighs he clung to and then winced when the dick in his mouth proceeded to enter his throat. "Glmgh!" His tiny body shuddered as the fat tip was squeezed past his palate. Limon gagged, but the offending object would not retreat. Instead it advanced further, making the fox's left eye twitch and his fur stand on end. "Gurgh!" He choked and tried to spit the penis out, his throat convulsing around it, but the mean dog was granting him no leverage whatsoever.

"Hmm..." Mr. Hollard readjusted his grip, trapping Limon's petite skull now between his two large, strong hands. Both thumbs where wedged into the corners of his agape jaws, holding them wide open. He eased the pressure a bit, letting his cocksucker come up an inch with false hopes. Then he slowly shoved Limon down again, squeezing his swollen dick deep into the fox's esophagus with a grunt. The old dog could feel the warm and wet insides clench and push back at him. It was heaven! "Ahh~ I love your tight throat, Limon!" he moaned happily.

Though while his self-righteous boss was in seventh heaven, Limon was already dangerously short on breath again, choking and gagging on the monster in this throat. Even not considering the vast size difference between their species, Mr. Hollard was quite a mouth full! And right now he was stretching Limon's throat to its limit. "Hrrmgh!" The word 'full' wasn't even sufficient enough anymore to describe how the fox felt. His neck was about to burst!

Biting his lower lip, the Rottweiler huffed through his nose as his hands forced his dick deeper into the twitching fennc's throat. Every time he pushed Limon's head down ever so slowly, he could hear this wet, slurping sound, followed by a muffled whimper and the occasional gagging. And he was not shy to give Limon every inch he had to offer, which meant he got a lot of slurping, whimpering and gagging! The fennec's face was a mess already. His half-lidded, teary eyes were unfocused and partly rolled back, while spit and snot bubbled from his small, black nose. Weakly Mr. Hollard could feel a small paw tap his left thigh repeatedly.

"Grrgh-chh..." With a sudden move Limon's head was lifted by the two hands holding it. And when the massive dick eventually slipped free of his muzzle, the fox hastily drew breath. "Hrrrchhhhh-huff! Hrrchhh-huff..." His tongue was lolling out of his drooling muzzle, which was still spread by his boss' thumbs. He tried to swallow, but barely managed. Limon's throat was wet and sore, so very sore. First Mr. Atkins' hoof, now this! "Guhhrrrgh..." He squeezed the Rottweiler's thighs firmly as his fuzzy eyes peered down, taking in the daunting sight of Mr. Hollard's huge, red, throbbing cock, glistening with spit. And then he was forced down over it again. "Mmrghhck!"

"Hmmph... As much as I enjoy teasing you like this..." Hollard moaned, squeezing his member right back into this welcoming, warm tightness. "I think we should probably speed this up a tad. Hff... I got a, mphf, m-meeting in a bit..." Straightening up a little on the couch, Mr. Hollard pulled his fingers out of the fox's maw, granting him at least a little relief on his jaws. Booth his large hands moved further up now to cup Limon's head from behind. "Hmff, hope you don't mind the rush..." he muttered with a pleasant shudder as he squeezed the fox's head down into his lap.

"Hmph-rrrrgh!" Limon's protest remained unheard as his boss indeed picked up speed. With powerful, rough movements he shoved the fox's tiny head up and down in his lap, pumping his rock hard dick fiercely in his aching throat. "Glck... Grrck... Gurck... Guck..." And every time Limon was shoved down, he felt his boss thrust up slightly to slap his bulging knot against his lips. He didn't know how many throat stretching thrust he received, or how long his gullet was fucked raw. Limon only closed his eyes and let it happen.

The broken desert fox dangled from Mr. Hollard's busy hands like a rag doll. The only sign that he was still with him was his skinny, arching back whenever the steam piston in his throat made him gag. "Hrrrm-ah!" the Rottweiler gasped, his legs tensing with the building climax he very soon would have. By now he was humping his office fox's tight muzzle like a lifeless, little sex toy. "Argh, fuck!" Swiftly the dog's guiding hands moved further up a bit, cupping Limon's enormous fennec ears, then clutching them tightly. With a loud moan he yanked them down.

In his state, Limon only realized what was happening when a sharp pain hit the base of his ears. "Hrrghck!" he whimpered with his throat stuffed. Again and again his ears were pulled down fitfully, slamming the Rottweiler's shaft deep into his neck and the knot against his chin and nose. The fox's blurred vision faded slowly, the pain from his sore throat spreading into his chest as he ran out of air. "Grmphf!"

In a sensual frenzy, Hollard forced the poor, choking fox down by his ears to feel his slick, warm, tight, coughing throat stimulate every last inch of his cock. He was so damn close, he could feel his hips twitch with need, his heavy balls ready to shoot. "Uhargh!" The old dog growled through his office, his head laid back, as he tugged hard enough on the fennec's ears to make Limon audibly groan with pain. But he didn't stop. Hollard pulled harder and soon enough felt how his swelling knot began to pry the fox's muzzle further open. "Hurrgh... Ahh! Take it all, you worthless suckhole!" He felt the fennec grope his thighs desperately and in that moment his hips bucked up from the couch, pushing against the force that tortured Limon's ears.

Limon grabbed and groped all over his boss. His legs, ass, gut, everywhere his weak arms could still reach, while the man's massive knot split his muzzle. His body trembled, his eyes rolled back in their sockets. And then the dog's knot slid past his jawline, lodging itself tightly in the fox's torn open muzzle, while the dick's tip pushed so much deeper into Limon's body. What followed next was a torrent that threatened to drown the helpless boy.

"Argh-g-god!" Hollard growled, not bothering to ease the immense pressure he put on Limon's ears. He simply held the fox down, his hips humping into the bottomed out snout, while he completely emptied his spasming balls deep into the crammed orifice.

He was rewarded with an ample load that quickly filled his insides up and spilled out of his nose with the last, ragged breathes Limon could manage to compel through his airways. The sticky, musky semen burned in his nostrils and connected his flaring nose to the Rottweiler's tan belly fur with long, gooey strings. Breathing was entirely impossible like this now and much to Limon's horror, he could feel Hollard's knot bulge to tie with his muzzle like it was supposed to with a pussy. His jowls ached from the strain. Everything ached!

"Hmphfff-huff-huff... Hughh..." Panting the large dog sagged into the soft couch, blissful and drained. And his hands would also finally release his assistant's crumpled ears. It wasn't as if the hold would be needed anymore anyway, Mr. Hollard's knot was now firmly lodged inside the fennec's snout. Which, in addition to his clogged nose, probably was the sole reason the tiny fox desperately slapped his boss' upper leg. With a tired groan Hollard leaned up to admire his handiwork. The sight between his legs could rightfully be described as concerning! The poor boy was choking on cum, spit and cock and was apparently close to passing out, his thin upper body convulsing in vain attempts to draw breath. "Ah, wait. Let me help you with that..." the dog said and carefully put his thumbs behind Limon's upper and lower fangs. Carefully he forced the two jaws further apart, already feeling the pressure the fox's struggling body put on his cock. "There we go..." he said as his still throbbing, member was eventually spit out with a ragged cough. The extorted fennec immediately collapsed from fatigue, unable to hold himself up, and stumbled head first into his boss' lap. Which the older dog didn't appreciate much, considering Limon's cum-covered, dripping nose and chin. "Oi! Don't ruin my pants, I told you I had a meeting!" he grumbled, pushing the light boy back and thus sending him inevitably smashing to the ground.

Limon didn't even feel the impact anymore. He simply lay there, phlegmatically, trembling as he hoarsely breathed through his mouth, since his nose was still blocked by a nasty mixture of body fluids. Every part of his body hurt! His stomach cramped. His chest was bruised, his lower back felt like it was wrought by a baseball bat. His throat was sore, his hot face swollen and his jaw joint had learned today what the one of a snake was able to do. His trampled knuckles were swollen by now and his poor, innocent ears felt like they were put through the mangle twice. He was a wreck! Utterly beaten, exhausted, humiliated and owned.

Still seated and in the open to let his sensitive member cool down, Mr. Hollard observed the prostrated fox, mindful of his poor condition, but also satisfied and triumphant. He still had it in him to best even such an energetic, loudmouthed fox like Limon! He was the top dog here and he certainly wasn't shy to let it be known to his subordinate. The little tent, the fox was sporting in his slacks, certainly was a welcome invitation to drive the message home. "Don't get yourself too comfortable down there, fox. This is not your personal pleasure party here, you're still on the clock!" Crudely he shoved his right foot between Limon's legs and trod down on his meek boner, grinding his heel into the unprotected crown jewels. He owned this fox!

"Ourgh!" Limon yowled miserably as even the most sensitive part of his body was assaulted. Quivering, crying and sobbing he tried to press his legs together to protect his privates, but to no avail. The mean dog continued to rough up his half exposed member and squeezed and nudged his tender testicles like his personal stress balls. And as usual, he didn't half-ass things – he wanted this to hurt! And it did. This man was so powerful. So mighty. He could do anything he wanted and get away with it. "Mrrrmph..." Unable to take the pain brought to his most sensitive spot any longer, the crying, cramping fox put his heavy head down with an unsteady sigh and whimpered softly, "Hollard, p-please..."

"Hmpf!" With a content smile, the Rottweiler let Limon be and watched with glee as he carefully cupped his manhandled bits with a sniffle. There was only one thing still missing to make the fennec's misery perfect! "Before I'll let you have your break now..." the dog began, pushing himself up against the couch to scoot a bit to his right. Once in position, he stretched out his leg, propping his foot up on the heel, casually and conveniently right before Limon's nose. "Is there perhaps something you want to tell me?"

Nervelessly Limon opened his tired eyes and once they focused, he could take in the sight of the worn, brown sole of his boss' dress shoe. He swallowed dryly, knowing quite well what was expected of him now. "Hrmph..." Quivering he crawled a bit closer to the dusty surface that occupied his field of vision, closing the last few inches of distance between his snout and the leather. "Ahh~" Humbly he pressed his numb tongue to the rough sole, humiliating himself one more time for his boss by lapping at the bottom of his shoe submissively. "Thank you..." His breath was shuddering as he spoke in a broken, throaty voice, before pressing his tongue right back to the shoe. He couldn't even lift his head from the ground anymore, but was still honoring the source of all his agony dutifully with the most passionate licks he was still able to give. "Thank you very much for, mmph... for letting me work for you and for, hmphf... being such a great boss..." He snuffled, feeling a shameful tear run down his cheek as he licked Mr. Hollard's shoe sole again with everything he got left in him. "Thank you for the generous opportunity, gmph... to aspire under your eminent leadership, Sir. Harmph... I'm eternally grateful to be a part of your grand company!"

Mr. Hollard chuckled softly at Limon's show. With delight he could feel the slight pressure every time the fox's worthless tongue graced his sole like it ought to. What a lofty feeling to have the little, inferior fennec so readily at his service! "You're so pathetic, Limon!" The large dog scoffed as he eventually rose from the couch. Casually he plucked a few wipes from the box, he usually kept on a nearby sidetable for convenience, to clean the remaining mess from his crotch. Once he was all properly tucked in again, the Rottweiler looked down on the ailing fox at his feet. "Alright, you may have your break now, fox," he said in a dismissive tone, before returning to his desk.

Totally exhausted, Limon remained lying where he was. He didn't have the strength to leave, or to pick himself up. He barely had the strength to keep his eyes open. Every fiber of his being screamed for rest, longed for easing. He would have fallen asleep right there and then, if only it wouldn't be so tactless. Or if the floor would have been just a bit softer. Limon didn't know how long he lay there like this. A few minutes, or a few dozen? He also barely registered what happened around him. Hollard was probably busy with paperwork again. What he did perceive, though, was when the office's big hardwood doors were opened.

A meek, slender tabby cat entered the room and softly closed the door behind his back. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Holla--" It was in that moment that Perry caught sight of the small writhing body on the ground. "Oh my god, what happened?!" he asked concerned, quickly approaching the motionless fox. Kneeling down beside him he checked on his coworker. His face was a distorted mess, his clothes crumpled and disheveled, just like his bright, yellow fur, and he seemed to be in pain – a lot of pain! The poor fennec looked like he was run over by a bus, then thrown off the top of the roof!

"It looks like Limon overworked himself a bit today," Mr. Hollard explained from his desk, calm as a clock. "Could you please bring him to the staff room and see to it that he gets some rest? Oh, and maybe also get some painkillers inside him, while you're at it."

Perry blinked up at his boss, puzzled as to why he could be so calm, considering Limon's condition. The dog wasn't even paying attention any more. He merely flipped through some documents like on every other day. Still, the gruff Rottweiler's words were authoritative and every bit as commanding as Perry ought to be used to by now. Disobeying them was out of the question. "Yes. Of course, Mr. Hollard," he retorted, looking down warily at his obligation. Carefully he reached under the fox's arms and gingerly picked him up. "Are you alright? Can you walk?" Perry asked, but only received a pained groan from the limp fox. Fortunately the little, or better put tiny, guy was as light as he looked, so the cat could haul him up against his shoulder and carry him like a toddler with ease. He was certainly used to heavier passengers!

"Oh, and Perry..." Mr. Hollard added, stopping the boy on his way out.

The tabby cat turned to regard his boss. "Yes, Sir?"

Looking up, the older dog gave his personal carrier a long, examining stare. "I don't expect Limon to be available for work tomorrow, so you will stand in for him. I expect you in my office at nine."

The young cat's round ears twitched nervously. "As you wish, Sir."