Gravel crunched along the drive as a car, a Grand Marquis beater, approached its destination: a small grove near a farmhouse. It was soon parked next to a tan minivan, and its sole occupant stepped out. The man, an African wild dog in his mid-30s, was very well-groomed, and the scent of an expensive cologne clung to him despite the very ordinary-looking clothes he wore: a plain white tee, tagless blue jeans, white socks, and a pair of comfortable black sneakers. The only ostentation was the pair of sunglasses he wore, and those he removed and tossed in to the car before he slammed the door.

The farmhouse was nondescript; a one-story, three-bedroom affair painted white with matching trim. It was not, however, the reason he was here, and his eyes soon turned to the grove. It was about a dozen or so trees planted in a fat C, with the open portion toward the farmhouse, and nestled inside the C was a trestle table. At the moment, it had a thick blanket laid over and weighted down with what looked like a couple pounds of canned goods.

As he approached the table, the door of the farmhouse opened, and a father and son walked out. The son he recognized immediately, having already seen numerous photos and a few videos of the kid in the same sky-clad condition he was in now. The father took a minute, though he was only wearing a pair of denim shorts. Like his father, the boy was a chocolate Labrador, and in fact the father referred to the two of them as Chip & Dale online, despite the fact that neither were chipmunks. They joined the African wild dog at the picnic table, and "Dale" picked "Chip" up and laid him down on top of the blanket. The boy's ears were back, and he was already starting to whimper quietly—he knew what was coming, it seemed.

"Hey, D Paint," the grown Lab said with a grin. "I was almost sure you weren't gonna show after all. Late start?"

"Nah, took a wrong turn 'bout an hour ago and it took a bit to get back on track," D Paint said with a shrug. "So, he been cleaned up?"

Dale nodded, pulling his son's tail out of the way so that D Paint could see the kid's reddened pucker. The painted dog nodded, grinning, and pulled a wad of bills out. He didn't bother counting it out, but Dale flicked briefly through the bills—they'd agreed on $400 for the fuck, $100 to bareback, and $500 for the act to not be filmed—before pocketing it and producing a bottle of lube.

Both adults unzipped and let their thickened sheaths pop free, and the wild dog quickly tugged his penis free of its fleshy confines and lubricated it. He grabbed Chip's thigh with his free hand and positioned himself at the boy's entrance. With a squeal from the pup, the tip of his shaft popped into the boy's rump, whereupon D Paint grabbed Chip's other thigh. The man quite enjoyed the pup's agonized yelp when he hilted inside that beautiful ass.

"Mmf, how *do* you keep him so tight?" he asked Dale, the boy's yelp seguing into a steady cry as D Paint began to thrust away in and out of Chip's rear.

"An ancient and well-kept secret," the other man intoned, a hand stroking slowly over his own shaft as he watched D Paint rape his son. "There's a local herb that has some really strange powers. Ingested orally, it suppresses growth—physical, cognitive, emotional, the works—and stops the brain from 'recording' its experiences. Applied topically as a paste, it has regenerative properties."

D Paint took his time, pistoning his hips steadily for the next several minutes as he and Dale chatted about other matters. While heavenily for the African wild dog, the rutting was anything but for the chocolate pup, whose steady crying was overlaid by the adults' conversation. After a couple minutes, D Paint slowed his pace a bit in order to put more energy in to his thrusts, trying to pop his knot in to the boy's rump. This, of course, changed the steady cry over to a rhythmic pained yelping.

Barely a minute later, the poor pup started shrieking in agony as his tailhole tore, and D Paint panted with exertion as thin jets of watery canine cum began to spurt deep inside the younger dog. The man glanced at Dale, who grinned. "Just pull out whenever you're ready."

D Paint grinned, and then started pushing on Chip's thighs after about a minute or so, when his climax had faded, and popped his knot back out of the boy's rump with another agonised shriek as his tailhole tore further. Blood and cum oozed out of the abused hole, and the African wild dog went right back to fucking the unfortunate kid.

After nearly an hour, the man sat down on one of the benches attached to the table, having since discarded his jeans, his cock liberally coated with his cum and Chip's blood. Dale had retrieved a point'n'shoot in the interim, and was now 'documenting' the damage D Paint had done to the boy's rump. The young chocolate Lab's ass was gaping, and a pool of blood-tinged cum had soaked into both the pup's tail and the blanket he'd been laying on. D Paint was, of course, very carefully not in any of the photos taken.

As soon as he finished, Dale pulled out a pastry bag filled with an olive-green paste and squeezed a small ring around the boy's nether star. He gently rubbed the paste in to the boy's tailhole, and stood back.

"Watch this, it's almost like magic," Dale told the other man, and turned the pup around so that the wild dog could see. Already, the pup's anal gape was disappearing, the fissures from the painted dog's rump knitting back together over about a minute. The young lad's bawling had ceased almost as soon as the herbal paste was administered, but he continued to whimper.

"That's...really rather cool. I'll have to come by again sometime," D Paint said. He grabbed a corner of the blanket and wiped his dick clean, then stood and slipped his pants back on. The man put his hand on Dale's shoulder, then winked and walked back to his car. Before he closed his door, he could hear Chip crying out again...