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assistance and support with this chapter.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Thanks to co-author \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
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\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tStumpycoon\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
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for his assistance and support with this chapter.", "writing": "[center]The Erotic Adventures of Whitehair:\nYergi’s Punishment\nChapter 04: Making a Mess of it All[/center]\n\nAfter leaving Foltchaín masturbating in the garden shower while Yergi continued his punishment meal, the wolf carried Ristin into the building and back upstairs. He took him to a room adjoining the dining room. The archaic formal sitting room was what most modern people would have turned into a living room. Whitehair, however, had kept it to its original function by placing the heavy wood antique furniture into a U-arrangement so that anyone seated anywhere would be able to converse with anyone else. At the head of the U, where most people would put some sort of entertainment console was a traditional wood-burning hearth, though at the time the fire was not lit. Like the dining room, the sitting room was also still outfitted for gas lighting though the fixtures weren’t currently lit. Instead light was provided by two phallic electric lamps.\n\nWhile the room did have beautiful large windows, they were covered by thick heavy curtains. Back when this was less of an industrial neighbourhood the windows would have given the occupants a nice view of the surrounding community, but nowadays the outside was more of an eyesore than anything else. As it was, the heavy drapes were a nice complement to the dark wood paneling and antique forest green patterned paint that made up the walls. This contrasted against the white carpet that covered all but a half-circle area in front of the hearth. The sitting room was further enhanced by tasteful erotic paintings and statues as well as a number of large bookcases against two of the walls.\n\nWhitehair sat Ristin down on one of the two dark fur-covered couches and then said, “I’m going to go get you another bottle of wine. I’ll be right back, boi.”\n\n“Thank you sir” Ristin called after the wolf and looked around the room. Ristin would have loved to have gone through the numerous volumes on those shelves, but without his arms functioning and reattached or the aid of an assistant, reading was something else he couldn’t do. He began wondering about all the fur-covered furnishings and the bedding, because with the things Whitehair did they could be from a person or could be synthetic. They did match very well however, so Ristin assumed he was worrying about nothing and that they were synthetically made fur. He then settled into a more comfortable position reclining on the couch and noticing his pussy was very exposed in his current position. The fur against it felt great and for a brief moment he considered rubbing against it but decided he didn’t want to make a mess on his master’s couch.\n\nWhitehair returned with a tray carrying a bottle of wine with a straw in it, and a pitcher of yellow liquid with ice in it. The tray had two glasses on it, presumably for the wolf and the sheep since rag would be unable to use one. The wolf placed the wine on the table beside the couch and pointed the straw towards Ristin. “Enjoy, my pet,” he said.\n\n“Thank you, my master” the raccoon said gratefully and sipped, and also took a sniff to try to work out if the yellow liquid was what he thought it was. The scents of lemonade, Irish whisky, and yes, wolf urine partially confirmed his guess.\n\nWhitehair poured himself a glass from the pitcher and started sipping at it. “So, boi, do you want me to grant Foltchaín’s request?”\n\n“What is the lady’s request master?”\n\nThe wolf chuckled. “She was flirting with you earlier. She commented that you’d like her more if I let the two of you play when she was done feasting in the yard.”\n\n“I would like to make her happy, sir,” Ristin said, “But, sir, I am not sure what she plans to do if we ‘play’. I wouldn’t like to have to eat poop, sir, even if it would make her happy.”\n\nThe old wolf chuckled again. “No, I can’t see her having you do that, and since you don’t have a cock, you don’t have to worry about putting it in her like she keeps tyring to get me to do. No, I expect she’ll want to have her crotch licked, or perhaps she might lick yours, or maybe even take you downstairs to play with the tens unit. She might want to give you an enema, but I could forbid that if you’d like.”\n\n“That all sounds like fun sir, I’d like that. Enemas are not a problem, sir. And I really like how her pussy looks, sir. Maybe she would like to shave me so we match, sir?”\n\nWhitehair shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her.”\n\n“Yes, sir. Do you like how hers looks, sir?”\n\n“Well, having it shaved does make it stand out and it doesn’t reek as much as they tend to when they are really hairy, but other than that, I’m more of an ass man.”\n\n“Perhaps sir would like to shave me there as well?” Ristin offered, lifting his leg stumps up and showing off his ass for his master’s inspection.\n\nThe wolf’s eyes gleamed in the room’s light and a wide grin spread across his face. “I have a torch downstairs that would get that hair right off of you, nice and smooth and no worry about nicks and cuts.” \n\n“Sir, what about burns?” Ristin looked curious but nervous at the suggestion. “And it isn’t permanent is it master?”\n\n“I can make sure that any burns aren’t bad enough to blister, and no, it will grow back just like shaving it off.”\n\n“Then, yes please sir? Please expose my pussy and ass?”\n\nThe wolf smiled. “Okay, we’ll do that a little later if things work out.”\n\n“Do what later?” Foltchaín asked as she sauntered into the room, still naked but no longer with streaks of brown in her short white wool.\n\n“Lady Foltchaín, I liked your grooming so much that I asked Master Whitehair if he would remove some fur from his pet raccoon,” Ristin answered eagerly.\n\nThe sheep smiled and thanked Ristin as she walked up to the couch he was on. She nimbly raised her right leg and placed her foot on the back of the couch so that it stretched her lips open, right in front of his face, not even an inch away from his muzzle, filling his nose with the scents of shampoo and female desire. \n\n“Thank you very much, my lady,” Ristin said, gazing at the lovely sight a moment before leaning up and kissing her spread lips then lapping at them with his soft tongue.\n\nFoltchaín moaned with pleasure and bucked her hips forward a little, pressing herself more firmly against the raccoon’s mouth and tongue. “Oh, you know how to make a girl feel good down there,” she praised, her juices already starting to flow again.\n\nRistin stopped licking to say, “You taste wonderful,” blowing the words into the sheep’s slit before using his tongue again, starting on her clitoris then probing up into the folds of her sex. \n\nFoltchaín gently placed her hands on Ristin’s head to steady herself, her vaginal juices practically dripping onto his tongue as he licked her. Suddenly, without any warning at all, she shivered and bleated like a feral sheep as a massive orgasm struck. Squirts of female ejaculate sprayed Ristin’s muzzle as she came hard.\n\n“Oh, wow! I haven’t cum that quickly in years!”\n\n“Thank you, it is an honour and a privilege to serve, my lady,” Ristin said, then started to lick her clean before trying to clean his own face. The more he licked, the more juices flowed form her. Her legs started to shake and she started moaning louder, clinging to the raccoon's head as if he were a life preserver and she were lost at sea.\n\nGrinning around his licking tongue the raccoon eagerly lapped up all she had to give, grateful for the lovely tasting treat and the chance to please Foltchaín, who obviously needed the attention. He especially liked the smoothness around her slit, no fur to get in the way or get licked up. It showed that getting his own fur groomed was definitely the way to go.\n\nFoltchaín moaned and whimpered and bucked her hips against Ristin’s face and skillful tongue. She turned to look over her shoulder and begged, “Please, Master Whitehair, please fuck me. You can take my ass, sir, and pretend I am a guy if you need to.”\n\nWhitehair replied, “I am enjoying the show. My raccoon seems to be giving you as much as you can handle.”\n\nFoltchaín bit her bottom lip and whimpered, still staring at Whitehair with a pleading expression on her face. “Please, Master Whitehair. Isn’t there anything I can do to get you to fuck me?”\n\nThe wolf smiled, pawing at his swelling crotch. “I was saving this for my raccoon. He still hasn’t had it in his tailhole yet.”\n\nRistin stopped licking the ewe long enough to say, “Please sir, you did an excellent job with my pussy and you’ll have all my holes here for your use for a while. There’s no need to deny yourself on my account, Master Whitehair.”\n\nNow fully hard, save for his knot, Whitehair stood and walked over to the couch and positioned himself behind Foltchaín. Instead of pressing his cock into her ass, he pulled back his sheath and guided his cock between her legs so that the tip stuck out in front of her just below her vulva.\n\nRistin licked at the cock-tip and then slipped his lips over the tip to give a quick worshipful suckle before alternating back to Foltchaín’s insatiable pussy.\n\nWhitehair pulled back from the raccoon, adjusted his angle, then pressed forward and up, pushing his bright red wolf cock between Foltchaín’s lips and into her throbbing, dripping pussy. The sheep bleated with pleasure, squirting juices all over herself the wolf and the raccoon.\n\nRistin pulled back, just enough to let his master’s dick have free access while the raccoon licked at whatever genital flesh exposed itself and tried to catch all the fluids dribbling out of his new friends as they fucked right above him. Right in front of him was the best view of a stretched, penetrated pussy he had ever seen in is life. \n\nThe wolf’s long, tick bright red pointed cock buried itself deep into the sheep, then pulled back glistening with her juices. This gave Ristin a moment to lick her juices from the shaft before the wolf sharply thrust it back into her. Ristin took the opportunity to lick her clit before the cock pulled back again. Sheep and wolf were both throbbing and Ristin’s own vaginal juices were flowing, leaking down the insides of his hind stumps.\n\nWhitehair kept this up several more times but stopped when his knot started to swell. The raccoon leaned up and swiped his tongue across the knot and then planted a kiss firmly on the underside of the swollen flesh-plug. The wolf shivered with pleasure and slowly pulled his shaft from Foltchaín, letting it bounce freely against the bottom of her vulva for a moment. A jet of precum squirted Ristin’s muzzle as the wolf took a deep breath to calm down and delay his impending orgasm.\n\nFoltchaín bleated, wanting more and not understanding why Whitehair took his cock form her when it felt to her like he was about to shoot more than pre into her cunt. She got her answer when she felt the wolf’s pointed tip press against her pucker, followed by a squirt of pre that mostly went inside of her eager back passage.\n\n“Relax,” the wolf whispered into Foltchaín’s ear, his hot breath causing her to shiver. With no more lubrication that the ample amount already on his cock from being in her pussy, the wolf slowly and steadily pressed himself into her ass, stretching her shitter wide open as his lupine member went deeper and deeper into her.\n\nNow that Foltchaín’s pussy was stretched wide open, Ristin knew his tongue would never satisfy her. He took a deep breath, pressed his nose to those loose lips, and slid his short muzzle inside. He let his tongue slip past his lips and probe deep inside her while rocking back and forth so his muzzle would thrust into her like a male’s cock.\n\nWhitehair could feel Ristin’s muzzle against his cock though the thin amount of flesh that separated Foltchaín’s vagina from her rectum. The wolf pulled back just a little bit then pressed further in with a grunt. In a deep, husky voice he said, “You are pretty full back here. I’m going to be filthy before I’m done.”\n\nFoltchaín moaned and quivered, panting almost like a dog. “Oh, Goddess yes! Pack it tighter, Master Whitehair. Force yourself into my full ass and pack me tight!”\n\nRistin pulled his muzzle half-out and sucked in a quick breath before plunging in again, like one deep cock-thrust. As he did this, Foltchaín was in mid-moan, which rose in pitch to a cry of ecstasy. Her vaginal juices had already soaked Ristin’s muzzle as much as if he had be sticking his face into a bucket of water to try to get a fish.\n\nWhitehair pulled back and thrust in a few more times, but as full as Foltchaín was, he was afraid that if he did too much more that she would make a mess all over his wolf-fur couch and he didn’t want that. Anyway, fucking such a full and messy ass was always one sure way to drive him over the edge so he just forced himself a little deeper, and then a bit more, and finally he pressed his full thirteen inches inside of her overstuffed ass. The feelings of her waste squishing around his cock and Ristin’s muzzle-fucking her pussy were just what he needed for his knot to start to swell, his own orgasm nearing as quicker and quicker jets of pre-cum cleared the sheep’s shit from his urethra.\n\nThe raccoon twisted his head side to side, adding clockwise and anticlockwise twists to the routine, something not easily achieved by a thrusting dick. He hoped his furry muzzle twisting inside her would stimulate the sheep lady in new ways that she may not have ever experienced. Foltchaín’s louder and louder cries of passion and pleasure assured him that it was working. Even before he felt his Master’s knot swell, he could tell that she was cumming again, her juices squirting out from her almost like pee.\n\nWhitehair woofed twice and growled, then suddenly he howled loudly as his orgasm hit, his knot fully inflated to keep her mess and the wolf’s copious amount of semen inside of her bowels.\n\nRistin didn’t orgasm, but didn’t care. He had always loved the feeling of making someone else reach their orgasm as much or even more than his own orgasm. But he felt the arousal and need in his own loins, but there would be no release, at least not yet.\n\nFoltchaín gasped for breath, unintelligible squeaks, moans, and bleats escaping her lips. She clung to Ristins’ head, her legs wobbly from so much pleasure and release. “No. Sorry. Can’t take it. Pull out, please, sir,” she gasped.\n\nWhitehair was still mostly feral and just grunted and panted as he continued to ooze his cum into her ass, though even if he were in control of himself there would be no way he could have complied with her request. Full swollen like it was, his knot was the size of a grapefruit.\n\nWith her hands holding his head in place and his muzzle firmly inside her, Ristin concentrated on holding his breath as best he could and reached his one free arm-stump up to rub his fur along the wool of her thigh. \n\nFoltchaín let go of Ristin’s head and tapped him twice. “Oh, you too you lovely raccoon. I gotta get outside before I burst and have to try to get my shit out of the white carpet. Master Whitehair, please pull it out and let me go take care of myself. I can’t take so much in me. I’m gonna leak all over.”\n\nWhitehair was starting to come back to his senses and between pants he said, “We’re tied. I can’t... pull it... out of you.”\n\nRistin gasped for breath, and noticed his face-fur and chest-fur were drenched in the sheep’s juices and there was a definite wet patch between his own thighs from his own juices.\n\nFoltchaín had never been tied with a canine before and didn’t know as much about their famous knots as a kink teacher should have. Her eyes went wide and she cried out, “For how long?”\n\n“Could be hours,” the wolf exaggerated.\n\n“I can’t hold it. I’ll shit all over you and your couch.”\n\n“Just try. Seriously, try it,” Whitehair taunted, knowing that nothing was going to escape their tie with as big has his knot was and as tightly as her sphincter clenched around the base of his cock.\n\n“You asked for it, Master Whitehair, sir,” Foltchaín retorted and she pushed hard. If it wasn’t for the fact Whitehair was still oozing cum from his tip she would have forced some of her mess back into his urethra. The squeezing and straining stimulated him further and he shot more and more into her, his cock and knot throbbing with every pulse.\n\nUnder them Ristin squirmed and struggled, being shit on was past his limits and he was right under the splash-zone should Foltchaín succeed in breaking the tie. Fortunately for him, the sheep wasn’t successful; however, she did leak a little but it wasn’t from her anus. A jet of dark yellow piss sprayed out all over Ristin’s face.\n\nThe spray of sheep piss further soaked ristin’s face and left nice new yellow stains in his white chest fur and ruff. With Foltchaín now sitting on his chest he couldn’t have avoided her urine spray even if he were an able bodied raccoon and not a amputated pet-slave.\n\nWhitehair chuckled and teased, “You are so full of shit, Foltchaín.”\n\n“That’s not funny, sir! I really need to go. It hurts so bad.”\n\n“Yeah, I expect rag feels the same way, but at least you’ll be free to relieve yourself when I’m no longer all yiffy and finally stop cumming.”\n\n“You’re still cumming?”\n\n“Wolves and dogs cum the entire time we are tied. You’ve never had sex with one of us?”\n\n“Why do you think I keep trying to get you to do me. I’ve never had one of your kind!”\n\nRistin wondered if he was her first raccoon and if that really counted given the circumstances, but he didn’t interrupt their banter. With his fur soaked in piss and other fluids he also wondered if he’d be washed later by his able-bodied superiors after they sorted out their tie problem.\n\nWhitehair calmly explained, “You are lucky you don’t weight very much. I am going to lift you up by the waist and carry you all the way downstairs and outside while tied inside you. Ready?”\n\n“Good luck sir and lady,” Ristin said as he lay there happy and used. “Please be careful.” The scent of lady Foltchaín saturated his fur and he sniffed the lovely aroma.\n\nWhitehair braced himself and slowly he raised up, lifting Foltchaín up as gently as he could, going slow and being mindful of her bleats. She tried to move her legs into a position that didn’t cause the wolf’s knot to pull so hard against her pucker, but finally she just gave up and let them dangle. Fortunately the wolf was taller or she would have had to try to carry him on her back rather than him lifting her up.\n\nIt nearly took five minutes for them to make their way out of the sitting room and into the hall. A couple more minutes after they were gone from the sitting room Foltchaín let out a very loud cry of pain and swore like an Irish sailor. Ristin twisted to try to see out the doorway and managed to get himself back into an upright position in time to see Whitehair come to the door, his cock covered in yellow dripping filth.\n\n“We will be a while, boi. Enjoy the wine and the lemonade if you can get to it. And don’t worry about her, she’s not bleeding much at all.” Whitehair slide the heavy wood door closed, leaving Ristin alone in the sitting room.\n\n“My bum is next,” Ristin thought, worried. He didn’t plan to say no to the wolf though, not that there would be anything he could do to stop someone taking advantage of him when he was helpless like this. That thought made him strangely happy though. He liked being this way, vulnerable, and free for others to enjoy as they wished. No toys or restraints or bindings needed, his body was a toy for others to use. His only responsibility was to be enjoyable, which was restful compared to the stresses and responsibilities of day to day life for most people.\n\nRistin snuggled against the soft cushions of the couch, chirring at the feel of the furry wolf hide against his own naked furry body. He was careful not to get any of Foltchaín’s leaked fluids on the wolf fur. Ristin couldn’t tell for sure if the material was synthetic or real, but if it was real he didn’t even want to think about whether it had come from feral or awakened wolves, just like the rabbit fur bedding in the wolf’s bedroom. He wondered how much more fur-covered items were in the building. The fur could have come from people since killing and skinning a permanent slave would be entirely legal. At least a contracted slave like himself was protected from such a fate.\n\nRistin needed to get his mind off of the source of the fur and what was going on outside so he took another drink of wine and began to fantasize about his mate, a male grey rat who he had been with for many years. His mate being away on business was one big reason why he was here, but also the rat was kind at heart and didn’t like seeing his raccoon limbless or indulging in some of the odd pleasures of his old slave life. Being here was a chance for Ristin to indulge in taboo activities and a chance to live with the cybernetic limbs off for a while; something he actually enjoyed very much. Ristin enjoyed his new condition, and had refused the option of biological transplants so he could be returned to a stumpy amputee raccoon at a master’s discretion. Still, he was grateful for the effort his friends had gone to to rebuild him when he had needed it. He thought back to the time long ago when his beloved had freed him from slavery, and the moment the rat unlocked the metal slave collar he had worn since he was sold into slavery by his family as a child. Not just freed from slavery, but also from the weight of that betrayal by his family. Despite all the extreme fetishes he had experienced this day, it was thoughts of simple intimacy with his rat that the raccoon was fantasising of, a blur of the sensual moments they had shared together over the years, mingled with the moment of liberation as the collar came free.\n\nBy the end of the fantasy, Ristin was so worked up that he was grinding his crotch against the wolf fur on the couch, his vaginal juices having left a large wet spot. He also realized that he had finished the entire bottle of wine and that he also desperately needed to pee, nearly as bad as he needed to cum. Whitehair and Foltchaín still hadn’t returned, nor had he heard anything from beyond the now-closed door.\n\nThe tipsy raccoon looked up, stared at the closed door for a moment then checked around the room for others. He could normally move well enough on all fours but couldn’t easily do that now because he’d smear Foltchaín’s fluids on the couch or carpet. He shuffled over by putting his weight on his shoulders and sliding his hips across then putting his weight on his hips and sliding his shoulders. It was awkward but he got to the edge of the couch and slid off with a undignified thump. It was more than he could take and a squirt of his own yellow piss stained the white rug. \n\nHe looked again at the door, but there was no way he could open it. The pressure on his bladder was building, as was his desperation. The tingling in his head from the alcohol made it difficult to think, but then he realised he had one option left to protect Master Whitehair’s carpets. He started shuffling awkwardly over to the fireplace, and slid his hips up onto the setting. Ristin shuffled deeper and deeper in, hoping his idea would work. He relaxed and let his piss start spraying out into the fire pit.\n\nFor the tipsy raccoon, pissing into he ashes was heaven. He stayed there his hind stumps spread just letting his piss flow, his bladder slowly shrinking back down from being over-stretched. He felt a rumble in his bowels, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do that in the fireplace, not to mention he would end up laying in his own waste since he dared not move from that spot lest he track piss and ashes all over the white carpet. Anyway, he knew he would be able to hold that back a bowel movement for some time to come. \n\nFinished emptying his bladder, Ristin used the little leverage his stumps offered and the edge of the fireplace to get up on his side then flop down with his soaked chest fur in the ashes. Suddenly pain racked his crotch. He let out a high pitched squeal and flailed about to try to see what had happened, but to no avail. What the poor cuntboi couldn’t see where three large slivers of wood. One was impaled into his outer labia, one into his clitoris, but the worst pain came from the one that actually went into his urethra. The poor helpless raccoon couldn’t move his hind stumps at all without agonizing pain shooting through him.\n\nThrough the pain he could feel other slivers caught up in his fur but fortunately not penetrating the thicker hide he had elsewhere. The stricken cuntboi tried to move to keep the splinters from digging deeper, but stopped as he felt the familiar stinging-burn of a urethral intrusion. The ash coated his back and now his front, sticking to all the wet patches on his fur. \n\nHe tried to concentrate on the fact that only synthetic flesh had been injured and to manage the pain. Ristin tried to prop himself up on one arm-stump and inspect his injuries but could see little through the ash coating his fur. He sighed, knowing there was no way he could get his mouth down there to pull the splinters out and couldn’t even reach his crotch with any of his stumps let alone use one to remove the slivers.\n\nResigning himself to this undignified position, the raccoon lay motionless in the ash-pit and tried to keep any of the wood slivers from digging deeper. “This serves me right” he mumbled. The situation he was now in highlighted the biggest down-side of his condition; without the assistance of caring friends he was vulnerable and helpless. Taking comfort in the fact he’d limited any damage to the carpet and furniture, he smiled and lay his head down and tried to rest until the others returned.\n\n* * *\n\nWhat had happened after Whitehair and Foltchaín had made their way out of the sitting room without leaking her mess all over the floor was this. Foltchaín was suffering intense abdominal cramps and an overwhelming feeling of desperation to empty her bowels. She didn’t realize that part of this was being caused by the wolf’s huge knot in her and to try to alleviate the pain she kept squirming and lifting her legs while the wolf carried her towards the stairs. The sheep, being completely inexperienced with being tied, didn’t know that by continuing to bear down and squirm like she was that she was going to break the tie in a most painful, and potentially damaging manner.\n\nWhen Foltchaín popped off the wolf’s knot her anus was stretched much wider than Yergi’s had been when Konrad had fucked him with his massive equine cock. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Foltchaín had an obsession with huge cocks and had been fucked both vaginally and anally by well hung horses, her sphincter would have been severely torn and she would have needed stitches. As it was, she just suffered some small tears in the skin, a bit of internal bruising, and an intense stinging sensation as her yellow, soupy filth exploded out of her ass all over the wolf’s crotch and onto the wooden floor.\n\nFoltchaín had screamed in pain and surprise as she popped off Whitehair’s knot, then began swearing as she experienced the total loss of control of her bowels, leaking a massive pule of formless yellow filth all over the floor and herself. The wolf lowered her to the floor where she assumed a feral squatting position and just let it all come out while he walked back to the door to tell Ristin that they would be a while and to close the door so the raccoon didn’t have to deal with the nauseating stench that the sheep was producing.\n\nThere was considerably more swearing from Foltchaín when Whitehair returned to her after she tried to lick the wolf’s cock clean. “Please, forgive me, Master Whitehair, she said, holding back tears from her failure, “But I can’t take the taste of this.”\n\nThe wolf tried to hide the sympathy he felt for her and gruffly asked, “Are you sure about that? I have seen you eat your own shit many times before.”\n\nFoltchaín barely stifled a sob and meekly replied, “I am sorry, sir. I have been eating nothing but my own droppings for almost two days while waiting to get to come here and it is just too much this time. I can’t even lick you clean, Master Whitehair.”\n\n“Then I am going to have to punish you.”\n\nFoltchaín’s eyes went wide. “Please have mercy on me, Master Whitehair.”\n\n“We shall see,” the wolf said, walking widely around watery the mess on the floor and continuing to the stairs. “First, I have got to go get a rag to clean this up.”\n\nFoltchaín whimpered and bleated as she felt more mess leaking from her. She tried to squeeze her ass shut but she couldn’t. This was the first time in her life that she had made a mess that she couldn’t clean up. In fact, she had always enjoyed licking her own filthy from a dirty cock or paw that had been up her butt. This time, her own twice-recycled poop was just to nasty for even her to take in her mouth.\n\nOutside, Whitehair found Yergi in the yard still slowly working away at one of the numerous remaining piles of mess. The wolf watched as Yergi would take a couple of bites and then squat down like a constipated bitch trying to relieve herself. It amused the wolf to see this and he spent several minutes just standing there watching the mutilated lion unable to relieve his tortured and aching bowels.\n\nFinally, Whitehair made his presence known. Yergi quickly scarfed up the remains of the pile of wolf shit he had been eating, fearing that his master was going to punish him for not eating faster. \n\n“Follow me,” the Wolf commanded and then he turned and went back inside.\n\nWhitehair returned to Foltchaín, slowly being followed by Yergi who was having a difficult time making his way up the stairs with his aching stumps. Climbing the stairs, Yergi slipped twice, racking his balls hard under his own weight. The stomaching knotting pain from his balls and the aching burning pain from his stumps had Yergi in tears by the time he reached the top, panting for breath and yearning for some release form his torment, but release was not to come for him.\n\nWhitehair stepped up to Yergi and pointed at his filth-covered crotch. “Lick it clean, rag,” he commanded harshly.\n\nAt that point, Yergi would have offered to exchange his tail for never having to have shit touch his mouth again, but even if he could have spoken, he was sure that his tormentors would have just laughed at his pleas. As it was, he had almost hesitated too longer before he reached out and started licking Foltchaín’s mess from the wolf’s crotch for Whitehair was already reaching for the control unit on his wrist.\n\n“A little slow there, rag,” the wolf growled, holding back a moan of pleasure from the feeling of the lion’s barbed and branded tongue on his sheath and sack. The wolf’s shit-covered cock had already slipped back into his sheath and would have to be cleaned later, probably by him holding the end of his sheath closed while he pissed inside himself.\n\nHaving no way to apologise for his slowness, rag just licked harder, doing his best to ignore the putrid smell and nauseating taste of the slimy yellow mess he was licking up.\n\n“Apology accepted,” Whitehair replied as if he could read Yergi’s thoughts. He moaned from the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough to get him to start to swell up again after having just cum a second time since waking up and it wasn’t even noon yet.\n\nYergi flicked his tail tip happily and licked even more earnestly, cleaning the wolf of Foltchaín’s mess in record time despite the foul taste he had to endure. Without even being ordered, he gently pressed his tongue into the end of Whitehair’s sheath and started cleaning out the mess that went inside of it when the wolf’s erection had gone down after the sheep had popped off his knot.\n\n“That is a good job, rag,” the wolf praised. “Now go lick up the sheep nice and clean.”\n\nFoltchaín moved away from the large slimy yellow puddle she had made and turned her rear to the lion. Yergi obediently shuffled over to her and started licking her mess from her ass, cunt, and thighs. It was ever worse cleaning her than it was cleaning Whitehair. What Yergi didn’t realize as he licked the yellow filth from the sheep was that the flavour of her mess he had cleaned up from his Master had been “enhanced” by the copious amounts of Whitehair’s own cum that had sprayed out when she first popped off of his knot but what he was cleaning up from Foltchaín was almost pure shit.\n\nA barely heard high pitched cry from the sitting room caused the wolf’s attention to jerk away from the two submissives. “After you two have licked up all the mess, then I want you two in the shower and cleaned up,” he ordered, quickly padding his way over to the door.\n\nFoltchaín moaned in misery at the thought of trying to stomach her own disgusting mess but she didn’t argue. Instead she was thinking about how much of it she could make Yergi lick up and perhaps keep from having to have any more of her own shit in her muzzle. For the lion’s part, he was grateful for the concoctions that kept him from vomiting, though it did nothing to help him tolerate the stench and taste of it, not to mention the pure humiliation of being reduced to a living toilette.\n\nInside the sitting room, Ristin was not on the couch where Whitehair had last seen him. Worried, the wolf quickly crossed the room and then he saw the coon laying face down in the fireplace. \n\n“Ristin?” the old wolf asked, confused as to how and why the raccoon had ended up there.\n\n“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t want to make a mess,” Ristin said. The condition of his master’s carpet was foremost on his mind even over his own injury. Ashamed at his failure he continued, “But I leaked a little on your carpet. I desperately needed to pee, sir.” Almost as an afterthought he added, “Then I hurt myself on some splinters in here, Master. I am very sorry, sir.”\n\nWhitehair had looked around for the mess that the raccoon had described but as soon as he mentioned hurting himself, the wolf’s attention was back on his charge. “Where are you hurt, boi?” he asked with genuine concern in his voice.\n\n“My synthetic pussy, sir. I have three splinters in it from when I flipped over. I had hoped the ash would soak up the pee, like a litter tray, Master.”\n\nWhitehair slipped one arm under the raccoon’s arm stumps and then grabbed the raccoon by the base of his tail with his other paw. “Sorry if this hurts,” the wolf said and then he lifted Ristin up from the ash and splinters.\n\nBecause he was so much lighter without his limbs, being partially lifted up by his tail wasn’t as painful as it would have been if he were whole. What hurt was the change in position and how it caused the splinters to shift in his artificial flesh, which accurately recreated the pain as if it were real flesh, perhaps even augmenting the feelings like it did any sexual stimulation the raccoon experienced.\n\nThe raccoon made a hiss of sharply indrawn breath as the splinters shifted in his sensitive wounds then through gritted fangs forced out, “I’m okay, sir. Not much damage, but very sensitive.”\n\nCarrying Ristin as carefully as he could, Whitehair strode across the sitting room and out into the hall where Ristin got a full view of the reeking mess Foltchaín had made. He also saw rag there dutifully licking her thighs clean of the disgusting yellow filth. Foltchaín was still moaning with pleasure at the tonguing she was getting even though the lion was no longer directly licking her torn pucker or her pouting vaginal lips.\n\n“Good work, rag,” Ristin said in a pained voice, glad to see the mutilated lion becoming more willing to serve and more obedient, no matter how disgusting or dehumanizing the task ordered of him. Now that he was being moved he had pains shooting through him. His over-analytical mind wondered again if it was the same as a real female or cuntboi would be feeling or if the artificial femsex felt different to real genitals.\n\nThe wolf deftly dodged the large puddle of mess and carried Ristin towards the nice Japanese bath they had been in before eating. Inside he laid Ristin down on his back and then he set the temperature and turned on the shower. As the ashes were washed from Ristin’s fur the location of three large and cruel looking splinters became quite visible.\n\nWhitehair turned up the temperature, explaining, “The hotter water will open your pores and make it easier for me to pull these out.”\n\n“Yes, sir. Thank you. I’m so sorry, sir,” Ristin blurted out so that he could continue with what had been eating away at him the whole time, “I worry about things like this, sir. We raccoons seem prone to making disasters and mischief.” Each time he was interrupted by pain he drew in a sharp hiss of breath.\n\nIf Whitehair realized what Ristin had been trying to tell him, he showed no sign of it. “Just try to relax, boi. This is probably going to hurt like all that is unholy and vile.” \n\n“I’m ready, sir, and I am tougher than I look.” Ristin gritted his teeth and prepared for the pain.\n\nWhitehair started with the splinter in Ristin’s outer labia, knowing that it would be the most easy to aggravate by rubbing against and maybe even poking into the cuntboi’s opposite pussy lip. Fortunately the sliver was large and easy to get a hold of. Though it caused Ristin to cry out in pain, he was able to pull it out in a single piece.\n\n“There, there, boi. It is bleeding nicely so it should be all self-cleaned out and not get infected.” The wolf thought for a moment then asked, “Can your artificial flesh even get infections?”\n\n“No, sir,” he hissed again, taking deep breaths to prepare himself for splinter number two. “And it self-sterilises to prevent carrying STDs, Master.” Ristin took another deep breath and tensed for the next extraction.\n\n“Aww, so no need to vigorously rub your cunny and slit with ethanol when I am done,” the wolf teased, not really intending to further torture his pet.\n\nThe stricken raccoon nodded, “No need for a bleach rinse either, Master, or to scrub it out with the toilet-brush.”\n\n“Oh, I don’t know about that now! The toilet brush in your pussy sounds like a lot of fun... for me.” Whitehair found the splinter in Ristin’s urethra and grimaced. “Oh, now how the fuck did you manage this one?” he asked rhetorically. “I hope this isn’t as bad as I am imagining it will be...” the wolf’s voice trailed off as he grasped the end of the splinter and slowly pulled it from Ristin’s pee hole.\n\n“I always loved urethra play si-yeaAAAAAAAAGH!” The raccoon screeched and thrashed as the splinter was dragged back out of his urethra, making the extraction more difficult with all the movement. After it was finally out Ristin lay there gasping and panting, then with a quavering voice he finished, “I always loved urethra play, sir, but it was much better when I had a penis, it felt more intense and was more of a challenge.” He blushed under his fur then added, “So, I guess my urethra is pretty loose, Master. I had just finished peeing a bladder full before the splinter went in.”\n\n“Synthetic flesh or not, I bet this is going to burn something fierce when you go to pee next.” Whitehair continued his scan of Ristin’s vulva, gently rubbing and opening and stretching. Every now and then Ristin would whimper but it still took the wolf a few minutes to pinpoint the third splinter, which had penetrated deeply into the cuntboi’s clitoris.\n\n“Oh, my,” the wolf said. “I think I found it.”\n\n“Please take it out. I’m ready sir” the raccoon said hoping that he truly was.\n\nWhitehair nodded and Grabbed onto the end of the sticker. He started pulling, hoping that it didn’t break. He knew that if it did, he would have to get tweezers and maybe even a small blade and actually cut into the racoon’s clitoris. The wolf wasn’t sure of his own skill if such a thing were to be needed, but as luck would have it, he didn’t have to find out. Despite causing Ristin almost blinding pain, he was able to remove the sliver in a single piece, just like the other two, even though this one was the most deeply embedded into the artificial flesh.\n\nRistin had his muzzle clenched tightly shut the whole time, not wanting to cry out again as he had the first two times. All his muscles were tensed and he looked almost rigid to the wolf. When the splinter came free he gasped and sighed in relief then allowed himself to relax, going almost limp. The raccoon lay there breathing heavily, mumbling “thank you” over and over.\n\nThe wolf smiled and continued checking over Ristin’s bits for splinters, pressing his fingers in much deeper than was necessary for the task at paw. After making his cuntboi squirm and moan and shiver several times, the wolf announced that he was all better now. Whitehair then Stepped away from the raccoon and pinched his sheath closed. Smiling, the wolf began to empty his bladder into his sheath, stretching it to capacity before releasing it and washing the majority of the sheep’s remaining filth from him. The wolf then took an enema hose from the wall and turned it onto low pressure. He slid the nozzle into his sheath and continued to let the water wash him out until he was sure that there wasn’t a hint of excrement left.\n\nRistin started to watch part way through as he came to his senses more and more. He had never seen a sheath-enema before, the usual sheath cleaning methods he had seen were regular washing in the shower or having a slave lick a master’s cock clean. The more he thought about it through the more it made sense with a sheath as deep as Whitehair’s. Unless the wolf’s opening was seriously stretched, there would almost be no other way to really clean deep inside at the root of his cock.\n\nThe wolf walked back over to his raccoon and squatted down. He pulled back his sheath and then pointed his cock down at the cuntboi. With a smile the wolf peed all over Ristin’s exposed pussy, letting his hot piss run down the raccoon's lips and pool at his tail base before draining away onto the shower floor and down the grate.\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "
The Erotic Adventures of Whitehair:
Yergi’s Punishment
Chapter 04: Making a Mess of it All


After leaving Foltchaín masturbating in the garden shower while Yergi continued his punishment meal, the wolf carried Ristin into the building and back upstairs.  He took him to a room adjoining the dining room.  The archaic formal sitting room was what most modern people would have turned into a living room.  Whitehair, however, had kept it to its original function by placing the heavy wood antique furniture into a U-arrangement so that anyone seated anywhere would be able to converse with anyone else.  At the head of the U, where most people would put some sort of entertainment console was a traditional wood-burning hearth, though at the time the fire was not lit.  Like the dining room, the sitting room was also still outfitted for gas lighting though the fixtures weren’t currently lit.  Instead light was provided by two phallic electric lamps.

While the room did have beautiful large windows, they were covered by thick heavy curtains.  Back when this was less of an industrial neighbourhood the windows would have given the occupants a nice view of the surrounding community, but nowadays the outside was more of an eyesore than anything else.  As it was, the heavy drapes were a nice complement to the dark wood paneling and antique forest green patterned paint that made up the walls.  This contrasted against the white carpet that covered all but a half-circle area in front of the hearth.  The sitting room was further enhanced by tasteful erotic paintings and statues as well as a number of large bookcases against two of the walls.

Whitehair sat Ristin down on one of the two dark fur-covered couches and then said, “I’m going to go get you another bottle of wine.  I’ll be right back, boi.”

“Thank you sir” Ristin called after the wolf and looked around the room.  Ristin would have loved to have gone through the numerous volumes on those shelves, but without his arms functioning and reattached or the aid of an assistant, reading was something else he couldn’t do.  He began wondering about all the fur-covered furnishings and the bedding, because with the things Whitehair did they could be from a person or could be synthetic.  They did match very well however, so Ristin assumed he was worrying about nothing and that they were synthetically made fur.  He then settled into a more comfortable position reclining on the couch and noticing his pussy was very exposed in his current position.  The fur against it felt great and for a brief moment he considered rubbing against it but decided he didn’t want to make a mess on his master’s couch.

Whitehair returned with a tray carrying a bottle of wine with a straw in it, and a pitcher of yellow liquid with ice in it.  The tray had two glasses on it, presumably for the wolf and the sheep since rag would be unable to use one.  The wolf placed the wine on the table beside the couch and pointed the straw towards Ristin.  “Enjoy, my pet,” he said.

“Thank you, my master” the raccoon said gratefully and sipped, and also took a sniff to try to work out if the yellow liquid was what he thought it was.  The scents of lemonade, Irish whisky, and yes, wolf urine partially confirmed his guess.

Whitehair poured himself a glass from the pitcher and started sipping at it.  “So, boi, do you want me to grant Foltchaín’s request?”

“What is the lady’s request master?”

The wolf chuckled.  “She was flirting with you earlier.  She commented that you’d like her more if I let the two of you play when she was done feasting in the yard.”

“I would like to make her happy, sir,” Ristin said, “But, sir, I am not sure what she plans to do if we ‘play’.  I wouldn’t like to have to eat poop, sir, even if it would make her happy.”

The old wolf chuckled again.  “No, I can’t see her having you do that, and since you don’t have a cock, you don’t have to worry about putting it in her like she keeps tyring to get me to do.  No, I expect she’ll want to have her crotch licked, or perhaps she might lick yours, or maybe even take you downstairs to play with the tens unit.  She might want to give you an enema, but I could forbid that if you’d like.”

“That all sounds like fun sir, I’d like that.  Enemas are not a problem, sir.  And I really like how her pussy looks, sir.  Maybe she would like to shave me so we match, sir?”

Whitehair shrugged.  “You’ll have to ask her.”

“Yes, sir.  Do you like how hers looks, sir?”

“Well, having it shaved does make it stand out and it doesn’t reek as much as they tend to when they are really hairy, but other than that, I’m more of an ass man.”

“Perhaps sir would like to shave me there as well?” Ristin offered, lifting his leg stumps up and showing off his ass for his master’s inspection.

The wolf’s eyes gleamed in the room’s light and a wide grin spread across his face.  “I have a torch downstairs that would get that hair right off of you, nice and smooth and no worry about nicks and cuts.”

“Sir, what about burns?” Ristin looked curious but nervous at the suggestion. “And it isn’t permanent is it master?”

“I can make sure that any burns aren’t bad enough to blister, and no, it will grow back just like shaving it off.”

“Then, yes please sir?  Please expose my pussy and ass?”

The wolf smiled.  “Okay, we’ll do that a little later if things work out.”

“Do what later?” Foltchaín asked as she sauntered into the room, still naked but no longer with streaks of brown in her short white wool.

“Lady Foltchaín, I liked your grooming so much that I asked Master Whitehair if he would remove some fur from his pet raccoon,” Ristin answered eagerly.

The sheep smiled and thanked Ristin as she walked up to the couch he was on.  She nimbly raised her right leg and placed her foot on the back of the couch so that it stretched her lips open, right in front of his face, not even an inch away from his muzzle, filling his nose with the scents of shampoo and female desire.  

“Thank you very much, my lady,” Ristin said, gazing at the lovely sight a moment before leaning up and kissing her spread lips then lapping at them with his soft tongue.

Foltchaín moaned with pleasure and bucked her hips forward a little, pressing herself more firmly against the raccoon’s mouth and tongue.  “Oh, you know how to make a girl feel good down there,” she praised, her juices already starting to flow again.

Ristin stopped licking to say, “You taste wonderful,” blowing the words into the sheep’s slit before using his tongue again, starting on her clitoris then probing up into the folds of her sex.  

Foltchaín gently placed her hands on Ristin’s head to steady herself, her vaginal juices practically dripping onto his tongue as he licked her.  Suddenly, without any warning at all, she shivered and bleated like a feral sheep as a massive orgasm struck.  Squirts of female ejaculate sprayed Ristin’s muzzle as she came hard.

“Oh, wow!  I haven’t cum that quickly in years!”

“Thank you, it is an honour and a privilege to serve, my lady,” Ristin said, then started to lick her clean before trying to clean his own face.  The more he licked, the more juices flowed form her.  Her legs started to shake and she started moaning louder, clinging to the raccoon's head as if he were a life preserver and she were lost at sea.

Grinning around his licking tongue the raccoon eagerly lapped up all she had to give, grateful for the lovely tasting treat and the chance to please Foltchaín, who obviously needed the attention.  He especially liked the smoothness around her slit, no fur to get in the way or get licked up.  It showed that getting his own fur groomed was definitely the way to go.

Foltchaín moaned and whimpered and bucked her hips against Ristin’s face and skillful tongue.  She turned to look over her shoulder and begged, “Please, Master Whitehair, please fuck me.  You can take my ass, sir, and pretend I am a guy if you need to.”

Whitehair replied, “I am enjoying the show.  My raccoon seems to be giving you as much as you can handle.”

Foltchaín bit her bottom lip and whimpered, still staring at Whitehair with a pleading expression on her face.  “Please, Master Whitehair.  Isn’t there anything I can do to get you to fuck me?”

The wolf smiled, pawing at his swelling crotch.  “I was saving this for my raccoon.  He still hasn’t had it in his tailhole yet.”

Ristin stopped licking the ewe long enough to say, “Please sir, you did an excellent job with my pussy and you’ll have all my holes here for your use for a while.  There’s no need to deny yourself on my account, Master Whitehair.”

Now fully hard, save for his knot, Whitehair stood and walked over to the couch and positioned himself behind Foltchaín.  Instead of pressing his cock into her ass, he pulled back his sheath and guided his cock between her legs so that the tip stuck out in front of her just below her vulva.

Ristin licked at the cock-tip and then slipped his lips over the tip to give a quick worshipful suckle before alternating back to Foltchaín’s insatiable pussy.

Whitehair pulled back from the raccoon, adjusted his angle, then pressed forward and up, pushing his bright red wolf cock between Foltchaín’s lips and into her throbbing, dripping pussy.  The sheep bleated with pleasure, squirting juices all over herself the wolf and the raccoon.

Ristin pulled back, just enough to let his master’s dick have free access while the raccoon licked at whatever genital flesh exposed itself and tried to catch all the fluids dribbling out of his new friends as they fucked right above him.  Right in front of him was the best view of a stretched, penetrated pussy he had ever seen in is life.  

The wolf’s long, tick bright red pointed cock buried itself deep into the sheep, then pulled back glistening with her juices.  This gave Ristin a moment to lick her juices from the shaft before the wolf sharply thrust it back into her.  Ristin took the opportunity to lick her clit before the cock pulled back again.  Sheep and wolf were both throbbing and Ristin’s own vaginal juices were flowing, leaking down the insides of his hind stumps.

Whitehair kept this up several more times but stopped when his knot started to swell.  The raccoon leaned up and swiped his tongue across the knot and then planted a kiss firmly on the underside of the swollen flesh-plug.  The wolf shivered with pleasure and slowly pulled his shaft from Foltchaín, letting it bounce freely against the bottom of her vulva for a moment.  A jet of precum squirted Ristin’s muzzle as the wolf took a deep breath to calm down and delay his impending orgasm.

Foltchaín bleated, wanting more and not understanding why Whitehair took his cock form her when it felt to her like he was about to shoot more than pre into her cunt.  She got her answer when she felt the wolf’s pointed tip press against her pucker, followed by a squirt of pre that mostly went inside of her eager back passage.

“Relax,” the wolf whispered into Foltchaín’s ear, his hot breath causing her to shiver.  With no more lubrication that the ample amount already on his cock from being in her pussy, the wolf slowly and steadily pressed himself into her ass, stretching her shitter wide open as his lupine member went deeper and deeper into her.

Now that Foltchaín’s pussy was stretched wide open, Ristin knew his tongue would never satisfy her.  He took a deep breath, pressed his nose to those loose lips, and slid his short muzzle inside.  He let his tongue slip past his lips and probe deep inside her while rocking back and forth so his muzzle would thrust into her like a male’s cock.

Whitehair could feel Ristin’s muzzle against his cock though the thin amount of flesh that separated Foltchaín’s vagina from her rectum.  The wolf pulled back just a little bit then pressed further in with a grunt.  In a deep, husky voice he said, “You are pretty full back here.  I’m going to be filthy before I’m done.”

Foltchaín moaned and quivered, panting almost like a dog.  “Oh, Goddess yes!  Pack it tighter, Master Whitehair.  Force yourself into my full ass and pack me tight!”

Ristin pulled his muzzle half-out and sucked in a quick breath before plunging in again, like one deep cock-thrust.  As he did this, Foltchaín was in mid-moan, which rose in pitch to a cry of ecstasy.  Her vaginal juices had already soaked Ristin’s muzzle as much as if he had be sticking his face into a bucket of water to try to get a fish.

Whitehair pulled back and thrust in a few more times, but as full as Foltchaín was, he was afraid that if he did too much more that she would make a mess all over his wolf-fur couch and he didn’t want that.  Anyway, fucking such a full and messy ass was always one sure way to drive him over the edge so he just forced himself a little deeper, and then a bit more, and finally he pressed his full thirteen inches inside of her overstuffed ass.  The feelings of her waste squishing around his cock and Ristin’s muzzle-fucking her pussy were just what he needed for his knot to start to swell, his own orgasm nearing as quicker and quicker jets of pre-cum cleared the sheep’s shit from his urethra.

The raccoon twisted his head side to side, adding clockwise and anticlockwise twists to the routine, something not easily achieved by a thrusting dick.  He hoped his furry muzzle twisting inside her would stimulate the sheep lady in new ways that she may not have ever experienced.  Foltchaín’s louder and louder cries of passion and pleasure assured him that it was working.  Even before he felt his Master’s knot swell, he could tell that she was cumming again, her juices squirting out from her almost like pee.

Whitehair woofed twice and growled, then suddenly he howled loudly as his orgasm hit, his knot fully inflated to keep her mess and the wolf’s copious amount of semen inside of her bowels.

Ristin didn’t orgasm, but didn’t care.  He had always loved the feeling of making someone else reach their orgasm as much or even more than his own orgasm.  But he felt the arousal and need in his own loins, but there would be no release, at least not yet.

Foltchaín gasped for breath, unintelligible squeaks, moans, and bleats escaping her lips.  She clung to Ristins’ head, her legs wobbly from so much pleasure and release.  “No.  Sorry.  Can’t take it.  Pull out, please, sir,” she gasped.

Whitehair was still mostly feral and just grunted and panted as he continued to ooze his cum into her ass, though even if he were in control of himself there would be no way he could have complied with her request.  Full swollen like it was, his knot was the size of a grapefruit.

With her hands holding his head in place and his muzzle firmly inside her, Ristin concentrated on holding his breath as best he could and reached his one free arm-stump up to rub his fur along the wool of her thigh.  

Foltchaín let go of Ristin’s head and tapped him twice.  “Oh, you too you lovely raccoon.  I gotta get outside before I burst and have to try to get my shit out of the white carpet.  Master Whitehair, please pull it out and let me go take care of myself.  I can’t take so much in me.  I’m gonna leak all over.”

Whitehair was starting to come back to his senses and between pants he said, “We’re tied.  I can’t... pull it... out of you.”

Ristin gasped for breath, and noticed his face-fur and chest-fur were drenched in the sheep’s juices and there was a definite wet patch between his own thighs from his own juices.

Foltchaín had never been tied with a canine before and didn’t know as much about their famous knots as a kink teacher should have.  Her eyes went wide and she cried out, “For how long?”

“Could be hours,” the wolf exaggerated.

“I can’t hold it.  I’ll shit all over you and your couch.”

“Just try.  Seriously, try it,” Whitehair taunted, knowing that nothing was going to escape their tie with as big has his knot was and as tightly as her sphincter clenched around the base of his cock.

“You asked for it, Master Whitehair, sir,” Foltchaín retorted and she pushed hard.  If it wasn’t for the fact Whitehair was still oozing cum from his tip she would have forced some of her mess back into his urethra.  The squeezing and straining stimulated him further and he shot more and more into her, his cock and knot throbbing with every pulse.

Under them Ristin squirmed and struggled, being shit on was past his limits and he was right under the splash-zone should Foltchaín succeed in breaking the tie.  Fortunately for him, the sheep wasn’t successful; however, she did leak a little but it wasn’t from her anus.  A jet of dark yellow piss sprayed out all over Ristin’s face.

The spray of sheep piss further soaked ristin’s face and left nice new yellow stains in his white chest fur and ruff.  With Foltchaín now sitting on his chest he couldn’t have avoided her urine spray even if he were an able bodied raccoon and not a amputated pet-slave.

Whitehair chuckled and teased, “You are so full of shit, Foltchaín.”

“That’s not funny, sir!  I really need to go.  It hurts so bad.”

“Yeah, I expect rag feels the same way, but at least you’ll be free to relieve yourself when I’m no longer all yiffy and finally stop cumming.”

“You’re still cumming?”

“Wolves and dogs cum the entire time we are tied.  You’ve never had sex with one of us?”

“Why do you think I keep trying to get you to do me.  I’ve never had one of your kind!”

Ristin wondered if he was her first raccoon and if that really counted given the circumstances, but he didn’t interrupt their banter.  With his fur soaked in piss and other fluids he also wondered if he’d be washed later by his able-bodied superiors after they sorted out their tie problem.

Whitehair calmly explained, “You are lucky you don’t weight very much.  I am going to lift you up by the waist and carry you all the way downstairs and outside while tied inside you.  Ready?”

“Good luck sir and lady,” Ristin said as he lay there happy and used.  “Please be careful.”  The scent of lady Foltchaín saturated his fur and he sniffed the lovely aroma.

Whitehair braced himself and slowly he raised up, lifting Foltchaín up as gently as he could, going slow and being mindful of her bleats.  She tried to move her legs into a position that didn’t cause the wolf’s knot to pull so hard against her pucker, but finally she just gave up and let them dangle.  Fortunately the wolf was taller or she would have had to try to carry him on her back rather than him lifting her up.

It nearly took five minutes for them to make their way out of the sitting room and into the hall.  A couple more minutes after they were gone from the sitting room Foltchaín let out a very loud cry of pain and swore like an Irish sailor.  Ristin twisted to try to see out the doorway and managed to get himself back into an upright position in time to see Whitehair come to the door, his cock covered in yellow dripping filth.

“We will be a while, boi.  Enjoy the wine and the lemonade if you can get to it.  And don’t worry about her, she’s not bleeding much at all.”  Whitehair slide the heavy wood door closed, leaving Ristin alone in the sitting room.

“My bum is next,” Ristin thought, worried.  He didn’t plan to say no to the wolf though, not that there would be anything he could do to stop someone taking advantage of him when he was helpless like this.  That thought made him strangely happy though.  He liked being this way, vulnerable, and free for others to enjoy as they wished.  No toys or restraints or bindings needed, his body was a toy for others to use.  His only responsibility was to be enjoyable, which was restful compared to the stresses and responsibilities of day to day life for most people.

Ristin snuggled against the soft cushions of the couch, chirring at the feel of the furry wolf hide against his own naked furry body.  He was careful not to get any of Foltchaín’s leaked fluids on the wolf fur.  Ristin couldn’t tell for sure if the material was synthetic or real, but if it was real he didn’t even want to think about whether it had come from feral or awakened wolves, just like the rabbit fur bedding in the wolf’s bedroom.  He wondered how much more fur-covered items were in the building.  The fur could have come from people since killing and skinning a permanent slave would be entirely legal.  At least a contracted slave like himself was protected from such a fate.

Ristin needed to get his mind off of the source of the fur and what was going on outside so he took another drink of wine and began to fantasize about his mate, a male grey rat who he had been with for many years.  His mate being away on business was one big reason why he was here, but also the rat was kind at heart and didn’t like seeing his raccoon limbless or indulging in some of the odd pleasures of his old slave life.  Being here was a chance for Ristin to indulge in taboo activities and a chance to live with the cybernetic limbs off for a while; something he actually enjoyed very much.  Ristin enjoyed his new condition, and had refused the option of biological transplants so he could be returned to a stumpy amputee raccoon at a master’s discretion.  Still, he was grateful for the effort his friends had gone to to rebuild him when he had needed it.  He thought back to the time long ago when his beloved had freed him from slavery, and the moment the rat unlocked the metal slave collar he had worn since he was sold into slavery by his family as a child.  Not just freed from slavery, but also from the weight of that betrayal by his family. Despite all the extreme fetishes he had experienced this day, it was thoughts of simple intimacy with his rat that the raccoon was fantasising of, a blur of the sensual moments they had shared together over the years, mingled with the moment of liberation as the collar came free.

By the end of the fantasy, Ristin was so worked up that he was grinding his crotch against the wolf fur on the couch, his vaginal juices having left a large wet spot.  He also realized that he had finished the entire bottle of wine and that he also desperately needed to pee, nearly as bad as he needed to cum.  Whitehair and Foltchaín still hadn’t returned, nor had he heard anything from beyond the now-closed door.

The tipsy raccoon looked up, stared at the closed door for a moment then checked around the room for others.  He could normally move well enough on all fours but couldn’t easily do that now because he’d smear Foltchaín’s fluids on the couch or carpet.  He shuffled over by putting his weight on his shoulders and sliding his hips across then putting his weight on his hips and sliding his shoulders.  It was awkward but he got to the edge of the couch and slid off with a undignified thump.  It was more than he could take and a squirt of his own yellow piss stained the white rug.

He looked again at the door, but there was no way he could open it.  The pressure on his bladder was building, as was his desperation.  The tingling in his head from the alcohol made it difficult to think, but then he realised he had one option left to protect Master Whitehair’s carpets.  He started shuffling awkwardly over to the fireplace, and slid his hips up onto the setting.  Ristin shuffled deeper and deeper in, hoping his idea would work.  He relaxed and let his piss start spraying out into the fire pit.

For the tipsy raccoon, pissing into he ashes was heaven.  He stayed there his hind stumps spread just letting his piss flow, his bladder slowly shrinking back down from being over-stretched.  He felt a rumble in his bowels, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do that in the fireplace, not to mention he would end up laying in his own waste since he dared not move from that spot lest he track piss and ashes all over the white carpet.  Anyway, he knew he would be able to hold that back a bowel movement for some time to come.  

Finished emptying his bladder, Ristin used the little leverage his stumps offered and the edge of the fireplace to get up on his side then flop down with his soaked chest fur in the ashes.  Suddenly pain racked his crotch.  He let out a high pitched squeal and flailed about to try to see what had happened, but to no avail.  What the poor cuntboi couldn’t see where three large slivers of wood.  One was impaled into his outer labia, one into his clitoris, but the worst pain came from the one that actually went into his urethra.  The poor helpless raccoon couldn’t move his hind stumps at all without agonizing pain shooting through him.

Through the pain he could feel other slivers caught up in his fur but fortunately not penetrating the thicker hide he had elsewhere.  The stricken cuntboi tried to move to keep the splinters from digging deeper, but stopped as he felt the familiar stinging-burn of a urethral intrusion.  The ash coated his back and now his front, sticking to all the wet patches on his fur.  

He tried to concentrate on the fact that only synthetic flesh had been injured and to manage the pain.  Ristin tried to prop himself up on one arm-stump and inspect his injuries but could see little through the ash coating his fur.  He sighed, knowing there was no way he could get his mouth down there to pull the splinters out and couldn’t even reach his crotch with any of his stumps let alone use one to remove the slivers.

Resigning himself to this undignified position, the raccoon lay motionless in the ash-pit and tried to keep any of the wood slivers from digging deeper.  “This serves me right” he mumbled.  The situation he was now in highlighted the biggest down-side of his condition; without the assistance of caring friends he was vulnerable and helpless.  Taking comfort in the fact he’d limited any damage to the carpet and furniture, he smiled and lay his head down and tried to rest until the others returned.

* * *

What had happened after Whitehair and Foltchaín had made their way out of the sitting room without leaking her mess all over the floor was this.  Foltchaín was suffering intense abdominal cramps and an overwhelming feeling of desperation to empty her bowels.  She didn’t realize that part of this was being caused by the wolf’s huge knot in her and to try to alleviate the pain she kept squirming and lifting her legs while the wolf carried her towards the stairs.  The sheep, being completely inexperienced with being tied, didn’t know that by continuing to bear down and squirm like she was that she was going to break the tie in a most painful, and potentially damaging manner.

When Foltchaín popped off the wolf’s knot her anus was stretched much wider than Yergi’s had been when Konrad had fucked him with his massive equine cock.  If it hadn’t been for the fact that Foltchaín had an obsession with huge cocks and had been fucked both vaginally and anally by well hung horses, her sphincter would have been severely torn and she would have needed stitches.  As it was, she just suffered some small tears in the skin, a bit of internal bruising, and an intense stinging sensation as her yellow, soupy filth exploded out of her ass all over the wolf’s crotch and onto the wooden floor.

Foltchaín had screamed in pain and surprise as she popped off Whitehair’s knot, then began swearing as she experienced the total loss of control of her bowels, leaking a massive pule of formless yellow filth all over the floor and herself.  The wolf lowered her to the floor where she assumed a feral squatting position and just let it all come out while he walked back to the door to tell Ristin that they would be a while and to close the door so the raccoon didn’t have to deal with the nauseating stench that the sheep was producing.

There was considerably more swearing from Foltchaín when Whitehair returned to her after she tried to lick the wolf’s cock clean.  “Please, forgive me, Master Whitehair, she said, holding back tears from her failure, “But I can’t take the taste of this.”

The wolf tried to hide the sympathy he felt for her and gruffly asked, “Are you sure about that?  I have seen you eat your own shit many times before.”

Foltchaín barely stifled a sob and meekly replied, “I am sorry, sir.  I have been eating nothing but my own droppings for almost two days while waiting to get to come here and it is just too much this time.  I can’t even lick you clean, Master Whitehair.”

“Then I am going to have to punish you.”

Foltchaín’s eyes went wide.  “Please have mercy on me, Master Whitehair.”

“We shall see,” the wolf said, walking widely around watery the mess on the floor and continuing to the stairs.  “First, I have got to go get a rag to clean this up.”

Foltchaín whimpered and bleated as she felt more mess leaking from her.  She tried to squeeze her ass shut but she couldn’t.  This was the first time in her life that she had made a mess that she couldn’t clean up.  In fact, she had always enjoyed licking her own filthy from a dirty cock or paw that had been up her butt.  This time, her own twice-recycled poop was just to nasty for even her to take in her mouth.

Outside, Whitehair found Yergi in the yard still slowly working away at one of the numerous remaining piles of mess.  The wolf watched as Yergi would take a couple of bites and then squat down like a constipated bitch trying to relieve herself.  It amused the wolf to see this and he spent several minutes just standing there watching the mutilated lion unable to relieve his tortured and aching bowels.

Finally, Whitehair made his presence known.  Yergi quickly scarfed up the remains of the pile of wolf shit he had been eating, fearing that his master was going to punish him for not eating faster.  

“Follow me,” the Wolf commanded and then he turned and went back inside.

Whitehair returned to Foltchaín, slowly being followed by Yergi who was having a difficult time making his way up the stairs with his aching stumps.  Climbing the stairs, Yergi slipped twice, racking his balls hard under his own weight.  The stomaching knotting pain from his balls and the aching burning pain from his stumps had Yergi in tears by the time he reached the top, panting for breath and yearning for some release form his torment, but release was not to come for him.

Whitehair stepped up to Yergi and pointed at his filth-covered crotch.  “Lick it clean, rag,” he commanded harshly.

At that point, Yergi would have offered to exchange his tail for never having to have shit touch his mouth again, but even if he could have spoken, he was sure that his tormentors would have just laughed at his pleas.  As it was, he had almost hesitated too longer before he reached out and started licking Foltchaín’s mess from the wolf’s crotch for Whitehair was already reaching for the control unit on his wrist.

“A little slow there, rag,” the wolf growled, holding back a moan of pleasure from the feeling of the lion’s barbed and branded tongue on his sheath and sack.  The wolf’s shit-covered cock had already slipped back into his sheath and would have to be cleaned later, probably by him holding the end of his sheath closed while he pissed inside himself.

Having no way to apologise for his slowness, rag just licked harder, doing his best to ignore the putrid smell and nauseating taste of the slimy yellow mess he was licking up.

“Apology accepted,” Whitehair replied as if he could read Yergi’s thoughts.  He moaned from the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough to get him to start to swell up again after having just cum a second time since waking up and it wasn’t even noon yet.

Yergi flicked his tail tip happily and licked even more earnestly, cleaning the wolf of Foltchaín’s mess in record time despite the foul taste he had to endure.  Without even being ordered, he gently pressed his tongue into the end of Whitehair’s sheath and started cleaning out the mess that went inside of it when the wolf’s erection had gone down after the sheep had popped off his knot.

“That is a good job, rag,” the wolf praised.  “Now go lick up the sheep nice and clean.”

Foltchaín moved away from the large slimy yellow puddle she had made and turned her rear to the lion.  Yergi obediently shuffled over to her and started licking her mess from her ass, cunt, and thighs.  It was ever worse cleaning her than it was cleaning Whitehair.  What Yergi didn’t realize as he licked the yellow filth from the sheep was that the flavour of her mess he had cleaned up from his Master had been “enhanced” by the copious amounts of Whitehair’s own cum that had sprayed out when she first popped off of his knot but what he was cleaning up from Foltchaín was almost pure shit.

A barely heard high pitched cry from the sitting room caused the wolf’s attention to jerk away from the two submissives.  “After you two have licked up all the mess, then I want you two in the shower and cleaned up,” he ordered, quickly padding his way over to the door.

Foltchaín moaned in misery at the thought of trying to stomach her own disgusting mess but she didn’t argue.  Instead she was thinking about how much of it she could make Yergi lick up and perhaps keep from having to have any more of her own shit in her muzzle.  For the lion’s part, he was grateful for the concoctions that kept him from vomiting, though it did nothing to help him tolerate the stench and taste of it, not to mention the pure humiliation of being reduced to a living toilette.

Inside the sitting room, Ristin was not on the couch where Whitehair had last seen him.  Worried, the wolf quickly crossed the room and then he saw the coon laying face down in the fireplace.  

“Ristin?” the old wolf asked, confused as to how and why the raccoon had ended up there.

“I’m sorry, sir.  I didn’t want to make a mess,” Ristin said.  The condition of his master’s carpet was foremost on his mind even over his own injury.  Ashamed at his failure he continued, “But I leaked a little on your carpet.  I desperately needed to pee, sir.”  Almost as an afterthought he added, “Then I hurt myself on some splinters in here, Master.  I am very sorry, sir.”

Whitehair had looked around for the mess that the raccoon had described but as soon as he mentioned hurting himself, the wolf’s attention was back on his charge.  “Where are you hurt, boi?” he asked with genuine concern in his voice.

“My synthetic pussy, sir.  I have three splinters in it from when I flipped over.  I had hoped the ash would soak up the pee, like a litter tray, Master.”

Whitehair slipped one arm under the raccoon’s arm stumps and then grabbed the raccoon by the base of his tail with his other paw.  “Sorry if this hurts,” the wolf said and then he lifted Ristin up from the ash and splinters.

Because he was so much lighter without his limbs, being partially lifted up by his tail wasn’t as painful as it would have been if he were whole.  What hurt was the change in position and how it caused the splinters to shift in his artificial flesh, which accurately recreated the pain as if it were real flesh, perhaps even augmenting the feelings like it did any sexual stimulation the raccoon experienced.

The raccoon made a hiss of sharply indrawn breath as the splinters shifted in his sensitive wounds then through gritted fangs forced out, “I’m okay, sir.  Not much damage, but very sensitive.”

Carrying Ristin as carefully as he could, Whitehair strode across the sitting room and out into the hall where Ristin got a full view of the reeking mess Foltchaín had made.  He also saw rag there dutifully licking her thighs clean of the disgusting yellow filth.  Foltchaín was still moaning with pleasure at the tonguing she was getting even though the lion was no longer directly licking her torn pucker or her pouting vaginal lips.

“Good work, rag,” Ristin said in a pained voice, glad to see the  mutilated lion becoming more willing to serve and more obedient, no matter how disgusting or dehumanizing the task ordered of him.  Now that he was being moved he had pains shooting through him.  His over-analytical mind wondered again if it was the same as a real female or cuntboi would be feeling or if the artificial femsex felt different to real genitals.

The wolf deftly dodged the large puddle of mess and carried Ristin towards the nice Japanese bath they had been in before eating.  Inside he laid Ristin down on his back and then he set the temperature and turned on the shower.  As the ashes were washed from Ristin’s fur the location of three large and cruel looking splinters became quite visible.

Whitehair turned up the temperature, explaining, “The hotter water will open your pores and make it easier for me to pull these out.”

“Yes, sir.  Thank you.  I’m so sorry, sir,” Ristin blurted out so that he could continue with what had been eating away at him the whole time, “I worry about things like this, sir.  We raccoons seem prone to making disasters and mischief.”  Each time he was interrupted by pain he drew in a sharp hiss of breath.

If Whitehair realized what Ristin had been trying to tell him, he showed no sign of it.  “Just try to relax, boi.  This is probably going to hurt like all that is unholy and vile.”  

“I’m ready, sir, and I am tougher than I look.”  Ristin gritted his teeth and prepared for the pain.

Whitehair started with the splinter in Ristin’s outer labia, knowing that it would be the most easy to aggravate by rubbing against and maybe even poking into the cuntboi’s opposite pussy lip.  Fortunately the sliver was large and easy to get a hold of.  Though it caused Ristin to cry out in pain, he was able to pull it out in a single piece.

“There, there, boi.  It is bleeding nicely so it should be all self-cleaned out and not get infected.”  The wolf thought for a moment then asked, “Can your artificial flesh even get infections?”

“No, sir,” he hissed again, taking deep breaths to prepare himself for splinter number two.  “And it self-sterilises to prevent carrying STDs, Master.”  Ristin took another deep breath and tensed for the next extraction.

“Aww, so no need to vigorously rub your cunny and slit with ethanol when I am done,” the wolf teased, not really intending to further torture his pet.

The stricken raccoon nodded, “No need for a bleach rinse either, Master, or to scrub it out with the toilet-brush.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that now!  The toilet brush in your pussy sounds like a lot of fun... for me.”  Whitehair found the splinter in Ristin’s urethra and grimaced.  “Oh, now how the fuck did you manage this one?” he asked rhetorically.  “I hope this isn’t as bad as I am imagining it will be...” the wolf’s voice trailed off as he grasped the end of the splinter and slowly pulled it from Ristin’s pee hole.

“I always loved urethra play si-yeaAAAAAAAAGH!” The raccoon screeched and thrashed as the splinter was dragged back out of his urethra, making the extraction more difficult with all the movement.  After it was finally out Ristin lay there gasping and panting, then with a quavering voice he finished, “I always loved urethra play, sir, but it was much better when I had a penis, it felt more intense and was more of a challenge.”  He blushed under his fur then added, “So, I guess my urethra is pretty loose, Master.  I had just finished peeing a bladder full before the splinter went in.”

“Synthetic flesh or not, I bet this is going to burn something fierce when you go to pee next.”  Whitehair continued his scan of Ristin’s vulva, gently rubbing and opening and stretching.  Every now and then Ristin would whimper but it still took the wolf a few minutes to pinpoint the third splinter, which had penetrated deeply into the cuntboi’s clitoris.

“Oh, my,” the wolf said.  “I think I found it.”

“Please take it out.  I’m ready sir” the raccoon said hoping that he truly was.

Whitehair nodded and Grabbed onto the end of the sticker.  He started pulling, hoping that it didn’t break.  He knew that if it did, he would have to get tweezers and maybe even a small blade and actually cut into the racoon’s clitoris.  The wolf wasn’t sure of his own skill if such a thing were to be needed, but as luck would have it, he didn’t have to find out.  Despite causing Ristin almost blinding pain, he was able to remove the sliver in a single piece, just like the other two, even though this one was the most deeply embedded into the artificial flesh.

Ristin had his muzzle clenched tightly shut the whole time, not wanting to cry out again as he had the first two times.  All his muscles were tensed and he looked almost rigid to the wolf.  When the splinter came free he gasped and sighed in relief then allowed himself to relax, going almost limp.  The raccoon lay there breathing heavily, mumbling “thank you” over and over.

The wolf smiled and continued checking over Ristin’s bits for splinters, pressing his fingers in much deeper than was necessary for the task at paw.  After making his cuntboi squirm and moan and shiver several times, the wolf announced that he was all better now.  Whitehair then Stepped away from the raccoon and pinched his sheath closed.  Smiling, the wolf began to empty his bladder into his sheath, stretching it to capacity before releasing it and washing the majority of the sheep’s remaining filth from him.  The wolf then took an enema hose from the wall and turned it onto low pressure.  He slid the nozzle into his sheath and continued to let the water wash him out until he was sure that there wasn’t a hint of excrement left.

Ristin started to watch part way through as he came to his senses more and more.  He had never seen a sheath-enema before, the usual sheath cleaning methods he had seen were regular washing in the shower or having a slave lick a master’s cock clean.  The more he thought about it through the more it made sense with a sheath as deep as Whitehair’s.  Unless the wolf’s opening was seriously stretched, there would almost be no other way to really clean deep inside at the root of his cock.

The wolf walked back over to his raccoon and squatted down.  He pulled back his sheath and then pointed his cock down at the cuntboi.  With a smile the wolf peed all over Ristin’s exposed pussy, letting his hot piss run down the raccoon's lips and pool at his tail base before draining away onto the shower floor and down the grate.

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