FSE

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"What do you think, Bitey?"

"Spitey, my name is Spitey," he corrected, groaning. It was the third time in a week he'd corrected King Bowser. As for how many times he'd corrected the koopa in the whole of his captivity, he'd given up keeping count just to hang onto his sanity.

"Bah, whatever," Bowser scoffed, waving off the faux pas like a bad smell. "But what do you think? Is he the one?"

Spitey looked into the projection. Shown in it was a quite attractive young man with long blonde hair and, if his pants were as tight as they looked, a bubble butt. He touched his lower lip pensively. "We-e-ell. He's pretty cute, I guess? I mean," he glanced at Bowser, "one fox is as good as the next, you know?"

Bowser laughed and clapped Spitey on the shoulder, knocking him to the floor with a thud. "I love that sense of humor! Let's go for it, he's the one." He pointed at the blue-robed Magikoopa behind the projection, visible through its translucent image. In a puff of purple smoke, the projection vanished. "You! Get the boy up here. No dropping this one in the lava."

"That was an accident, your rottenness," said the Magikoopa in an indignant, nerdy voice. A blush hued his cheeks.

"Next time it happens," Bowser roared, "I'm just gonna make you my new ass bitch! Now go!"

It was funny to Spitey - whom had gotten back up on his feet - to watch the Magikoopa pull his robe up like a skirt before bolting out of the room. He looked up at the king and smiled coquettishly. "I'd be happy to be your ass bitch, King Bowser."

The King of the Koopas grinned big and toothy, puffing smoke from his nostrils solely for dramatic effect. He tickled Spitey's chin with his long claws and snickered. "Aw, but little Bitey, you're already my cock sleeve. Can't be in two places at once." He nodded his head aside at where the projection had been. "Foxy boy'll take up the rear. And I'll just keep on takin' yours."

Spitey's smile turned lopsided, and even appeared a little worried. He chuckled nervously but put his hands on the king's belly as a reverent gesture. Bowser's chubby body rumbled underneath his fingers, no doubt the koopa's reaction to the dragon's revere. Down below, hanging over a fat and sweaty ballbag, was an equally damp member. Uncircumcised and pocked with veins even when flaccid, it had been Spitey's bane and his greatest pleasure in the months since his capture. What Bowser lacked in loving finesse he more than made up for in hardcore faggotry.

"Tell you what, dragon," Bowser said in his most sultry tone - and he could sound surprisingly lewd when he wanted to. He rubbed Spitey's neck, just above the spiked collar he'd put on it. "I'll let you kiss my ass this time around, 'fore you have to turn it over to that new boy I'll be acquiring very soon. Would you like that?"

"I'd love that, your majesty." Spitey said it so plainly, no emphasis or emotion, but that was just fine with King Bowser because he could see in the dragon's eyes that he was very hungry for some koopa ass.

Bowser hooked a claw in the leash loop on Spitey's collar and walked the handsome young drake toward the bed. It was great in size and cushioned with indigo pillows and blankets. An effigy of Bowser himself loomed grandly above it, carved into the castle wall behind the mahogany head of the bed.

He stepped up onto the bed, dropping quickly to his all-fours, and padded forward a couple of feet before lying down, resting his head on his folded arms. He held his bulky tail high and spread his legs in a slutty affectation. "Eat me, boy."

They were words Spitey had been longing to hear. He knelt behind King Bowser, hungrily licking his lips. His own uncut penis, though pitiful compared to the king's meat, was growing hard and dribbling precum. He dropped to his own belly and thrust his snout beneath the great, spiked turtle's tail, finding the prize easily, for it was the most musky part of the king by far, and it was also very soft relative to the hide around it.

Spitey sniffed the tight ring and was stricken by the musk. He moaned like the slut Bowser had implicitly labeled him with the collar, and he began lapping, smooching, and suckling the winking pucker. In response to his eager work, Bowser grumbled. His tail swayed back and forth, its movements slow and heavy like those of a mace. "That's a good boy," he grunted. "Get after the grundle, too."

The taint, of course - how could Spitey forget? His attentions had been focused squarely on the koopa's puckered asshole, but he moved his lips lower, smooching the sweaty, nearly flesh-like hide on Bowser's taint. The king's balls were slack, looking almost like a puddle for how much they diffused across the comforter. Spitey licked them too, greedily stealing the sweat from their wrinkled hide. He licked up their backside, along the taint, and across the pucker again. Bowser crooned.

A ruckus caught the attention of both Spitey and Bowser, but only the former looked back at the doorway. In came two of the Koopatrol, Bowser's most trusted guards, all of whom wore full-body plate armor and could tear an unwary plumber to shreds. They carried between them a fidgeting, gagged fox whose body had been forcibly undressed at some point, since only a shredded shirt collar remained on him.

"Is that my ass bitch?" Bowser asked, sounding patently delighted and swinging his tail back and forth above Spitey's head.

"It is, your grotesqueness," one of the Koopatrol tightly said. "Where would you like this intruder?"

Bowser started to get up, spurring Spitey to cease his terribly short-lived ass duty. The dragon wiped his chin and looked at Bowser's shifting rear woefully. "Mmm, to start with, get him over here, and then--," when suddenly he stopped himself and blinked. Wearing an expression which proclaimed I'm surrounded by morons, he gestured at the fox and barked, "Just what did you idiots do to his clothes!?"

The guards looked at one another to say he did it, but when that tactic failed, the one whom had spoken previously said: "We were searching him for weapons and it--," and now his disciplined tone dropped off, "it just kinda happened..."

"Get that gag out of his mouth. I want to hear what he has to say."

"Your wickedness, would you really believe anything he might--?"

"Now!" Bowser roared, causing Spitey's ears to ring.

The Koopatrol winced in unison before they unknotted the scrap of clothing they'd tied around the boy's head and laced through his jaws. He briefly worked his mouth, then said at the king's expectant face, "They fondled me."

Bowser sucked his lower lip momentarily, deeply considering what he was to do. Finally, and pointing severely at them: "Report to Kamek in the Magikoopa study. Immediate sex reassignment for both of you." He called after them as they trudged away with armor clanking despondently, "I expect stacked bimbos! Stacked to the ceiling!"

Spitey and the new boy exchanged perplexed looks. The drake's expression had a hint of sympathy. Welcome to your new life - it's not so bad, this look said.

"Tell me your name, boy," Bowser amicably commanded, walking close to the fox whom it was clear to see had some raccoon markings. The foxcoon backpedaled, but Bowser reached out quickly, grabbed his biceps, held him still. "Tell me your name. I'm not gonna bite you."

"It's Desmond."

"Desmond, huh? That's a lot easier to remember than Bitey." The dragon grunted and rubbed his temples. "All right, Desmond - you were in my castle, probably coming to steal loot or pick a fight with me or something, right?"

"Well--, actually, um," Desmond murmured, but stopped. Bowser stared at him, grinning. "Actually..."

"So, which one of my kids was it?" the koopa asked, narrowing his eyes. His eyebrows, thick and red like a pair of caterpillars, nearly collided.

Desmond first appeared indignant, but as Bowser's critical expression continued, he cracked. "Wendy... and then Roy."

"Bisexual, huh," Bowser mused. He patted the boy's shoulder and walked around him, going to the armoire. "Go on over and meet your stablemate, Desmond. I need to find a collar in your size."

The foxcoon and the dragon sat on the bed together, Desmond keeping a foot on the floor and the other leg folded under himself, Spitey kneeling close by. The dragon pursed his lips into a thin smile. "Wendy and Roy, eh? I got lured in by Larry, myself." He nodded toward Bowser, presently digging through the armoire, checking one spiky collar after another. "King Bowser caught us in the act. First he, uh," a chuckle, "watched us finish. Then he put a collar on me."

Desmond huffed. He played with the elastic collar of his shirt. Orphaned fabric hung from it like the rim of a punctured drum. "Wendy set me up to get busted, I think." He glanced downward at his penis shamefully. Spitey focused on it and cracked a smirk. "She's a size queen."

"No wonder she didn't like you."

"She liked my tongue," Desmond snapped, defensively.

"As will I!" Bowser boomed, and Desmond sharply flinched. Spitey was too used to the king's noisy proclamations to react. "What do you think of this, boy?" he asked, coming near with a spiked leather collar. "Gimme your neck," he said, yanking off the remains of his shirt.

As it happened, the collar fit like a dream. Desmond first smoothed back his pretty hair, then toyed with the spikes, prodding his finger pads on them.

"Looks good on you," Spitey remarked, nodding.

"Almost as good as mine does," sneered Bowser, hands on his hips. "Bitey! Get him the rest of his gear. I need to go make sure I've got a couple of new bimbos to nail this weekend."

When Bowser left, humming a cacophonous tune, Desmond scooted off the bed and ran for the door. Spitey followed him at a leisurely pace, wearing a tight smile. "You can't get out, dummy," he teased. "I've tried it."

"The door's wide open and there's no guards at all," Desmond hissed over his shoulder. He managed to poke the ball of his shoulder with one of the collar's spikes and yelped.

"That called a tra-a-ap," the dragon sing-songed, putting his hands on Desmond's shoulders and rubbing the one which had been poked. "You step one foot outside that door and you'll have so many Koopatrol on top of you, you'll think you crash-landed in a Renaissance Fair orgy. Come on," he urged, pulling Desmond toward the armoire by the forearm. "Lemme get you geared up. Bowser's not such a bad guy to live with if you behave. D'you like spicy food?"

Desmond grumbled and snatched his arm out of Spitey's grasp, but he went along with the drake. "It's all right," he huffed.

"Well, you'd better start enjoying it a lot," Spitey laughed. "Now, let's see," he said, pulling open the armoire, which agonizingly squealed on its hinges. "You need some wrist and ankle bands..."

Much later, King Bowser returned to his den. Both his slaves snoozed on his bed, the new one resting atop the old one. Soft, cute snores droned from their noses. Bowser found them so precious that he almost didn't want to wake them. He suddenly clapped his palms together, making a sound so loud and amplified by the cavernous ceiling that it sounded like a cannon blast. Desmond and Spitey flinched awake, the former crying out in shock.

Bowser was still laughing when he crawled into bed with them. It was Spitey whom he snapped up by the ankles. He dragged near the dragon, whose red eyes were yet glazed from sleep. "Let's see that butthole now, Bitey," he growled.

"It's still swollen from this morning," Spitey whined. When Bowser saw it, he concurred with a thoughtful rumble; the drake's anus was fat and pink.

Looking aside at the foxcoon, whose eyes were much more alert (and afraid), Bowser said: "Dizzy, Derek, whatever the heck your name is." He snapped his fingers, then pointed downward at Spitey's spread thighs. "Get'm slick."

"How, exactly?" Desmond had mostly said before Bowser snatched him by the back of the skull and ground his snout under Spitey's tail. Both slaves made startled noises, but where Desmond's was a shriek, Spitey's was of course a moan. Desmond's cool nose and soft fur were perhaps the most loving things he'd had against his ass in ages.

"With that tongue," Bowser hissed. The sound was sultry, not condescending. "And get used to eating ass, 'cause you're gonna be doing a lot of it."

Tonguing was something Desmond could do. He slathered and slurped the dragon's well-used asshole, wicking away musky sweat, leaving behind precious slobber. Bowser's scent was noticeably more prevalent than Spitey's own, and Desmond didn't need more than one guess to figure out why.

Desmond's sloppy work put a big, contented smile on Spitey's face, making him show his teeth and sigh. His tail swished back and forth in utter delight, and his erection came on slowly but steadily. Bowser snickered, letting off of Desmond's head, and the fox stayed where he was. He even grabbed hold of Spitey's thigh and pushed his snout in tighter.

"That's good, keep it up," the koopa lowly said, running a hand down Desmond's back. He could cover up most of the foxcoon's body with his fingers; seeing how much bigger he was than his slaves gratified him. "What do you think, Bitey? You slick enough yet?"

"I could be slicker," the dragon uttered. His shaft dribbled its precum into the rumpled comforter.

Bowser enjoyed a good, hard laugh which startled Desmond, making his green eyes pop open to stare uselessly at the thick root of Spitey's tail. "Very clever," the koopa allowed, still shaking with a little laughter. "You can have more of that tongue after I get my rocks off. Back off, Duncan."

As he pulled back with his snout covered in sweat, the fox groused, "My name is Desmond."

"You say that like it matters, Domino," Bowser said, voice thick with playful contempt. He nudged the fox aside, scooted closer to Spitey, and notched his big, blunt cockhead against the dragon's wet asshole in a way Spitey found all too familiar.

When Bowser pushed forward, Desmond was able to truly appreciate the alarming size the koopa had over himself and Spitey. Said difference in sizes made Bowser's penis on Spitey's anus look like a fist against a straw hole, yet through repetition and careful anal training of the dragon, Bowser was able to penetrate him now. The fox winced sympathetically even as Spitey groaned and bit his lip.

Slow and steady, mindful of his enormity, Bowser pushed it home and stopped when the dragon couldn't take anymore, signaled by the way he winced and grimaced. As gradually as he'd begun to push it in, Bowser pulled it back; and when just the glans was within the drake, he gyrated and worked in more of his thick inches. This slow penetration was marked by grumbles from Bowser, but soft croons and cries from Spitey.

Somewhere in the distance, the perpetual storms around the castle could be heard raging, and the magma works in the castle's bowels echoed through the hollow stone walls, but these noises were meaningless ambiance. The immediate sounds of sex were what Desmond found important.

The fox caught himself getting hard, and moreover, he was jealous of Spitey. Bowser was overlarge for him, but he wanted to experience it anyway. He masturbated at an idle pace, and huffed when he saw Bowser bottom out in the lucky dragon.

"Mmm, that's the ticket. Takin' it a lot better than you did this morning," Bowser chuckled. "Who's your daddy, boy?"

"Gawd," Spitey hissed through his grinning teeth. "You are, sir..."

A laugh from the King of the Koopas startled Desmond, but as to be expected, Spitey was unaffected. Suddenly and sharply, his red eyes seeming to glow like embers, Bowser looked over his shoulder at Desmond and snapped, "Donnie, get to work back there."

"On--, on what? Your ass?" Desmond uncertainly asked, his paw frozen mid-stroke on his small cock.

"What else, my feet?" the koopa scoffed, turning back to Spitey. "And don't be afraid to dig that fuckin' tongue in. I saw what a long tongue you have, and you are gonna put it to _good_use."

Bowser moved ponderously, perhaps for the sake of Desmond's work. His scaly ass was certainly tempting, fat and glimmering with sweat as it was, and as he leaned down and put his paw on the underside of the koopa's tail, Desmond was stricken by the first whiff of the king's musk. It was nearly overwhelming to his sensitive vulpine nose, but in there was the key to Bowser's sexual magnetism, and he knew it. Bowser's not such a bad guy to live with if you behave, he thought now. Spitey had to have been talking about this.

With the first tentative licks from Desmond, Bowser ground to a halt and shuddered. He bottomed out in Spitey and gazed down at the dragon's dreamy face, but his thoughts were on Desmond. Head slightly turned aside, he growled, "Harder, boy. Really get your tongue into it!"

"Yessir," Desmond tightly answered, and he started to lick a little harder, a little faster. His smooth pink tongue dragged swiftly across the hide of the turtle's taint but lingered on the pucker of his asshole. It winked, kissing his tongue in its special way, constantly exuding that dense reptilian musk. Desmond felt like he couldn't stand the smell of the sweaty koopa, but his penis was throbbing with incredible urgency.

Now Bowser began to grind again, pushing his ass back into Desmond's long and girly snout. His ass sweat soaked into the twink's fur, leaving him smelling like an ass whore, but that was such an apt description that it was hardly something to mind. He leaned lower, doubling over on Spitey, resting on his elbows. It was a tight fit, but he forced a kiss on the young dragon. Spitey earnestly sucked on Bowser's massive tongue, savoring the spittle which overfilled his maw and ran down the sides of his head. He stroked through the king's fiery red hair and even hooked his legs around him to some small degree, wide though the koopa was. He was utterly enthralled by Bowser.

Just like his pleasure was rising, so was Bowser's scent. Desmond caught it full-on in his pretty face, and as he more or less huffed the koopa, he found himself in dire need of release. Had King Bowser flopped onto his belly and said fuck me, Dylan, he would have gone for it - and he would have lasted ten, perhaps fifteen seconds. In lieu of the honor, he pushed his tongue against the king's snug and certainly unfucked anus, attempting to force his tongue inside much as he'd done to Roy on previous visits. Bowser grumbled in a hot new way, and the foxcoon was thrilled to know he was affecting the King of the Koopas just so.

Well above the sounds of the magma works and its volcanic rumble, Desmond heard the suckles and moans rising from the kiss. These were lewd, wet noises which filled the air as Bowser's huge tongue plunged Spitey's relatively small mouth. Desmond was jealous, but when he actually wriggled his tongue into the koopa's ass, and his slurps and sucks began to make much the same noises, he felt a little less jealous. In fact, being able to taste and smell his new master's handsome body with such intimacy was making him feel pretty fucking good, jealousy or no, and when Bowser broke off the kiss and gasped, "Fuck me, that's good, Desmond!" with his lips still caked in drool, Desmond felt amazing.

Bowser's use of Spitey's well-trained ass was still careful, but his mannerisms were beginning to point to a climax. He huffed sharply against the dragon's face and said with a grunt, "You gonna cum too, Bitey?"

It was a command, and this Spitey knew well; the spasmodically clenching rectal muscles of a young homosexual in the throes of an orgasm milked a cock like nothing else, and in lieu of fucking Spitey's brains out and missing out on such a fantastic rimming, Bowser preferred to let the drake's body do the heavy lifting.

Spitey masturbated eagerly, using his left hand, then his right, and then his left again. He reached down, fondled his sweaty balls, and traced the top of Bowser's penis with a claw. His uncircumcised meat spat a bounty of pre onto his belly and breast, and he sighed sharply, his head still glistening with the koopa's overabundant drool. "So very close now, your majesty," he crowed.

"Fuck, you and me both," Bowser grunted, barely moving his hips now, just occasionally gyrating into Spitey. Already the dragon's ass was clenching in that senseless orgasmic rhythm, and Desmond's faggot tongue was hitting all the right spots. Forget the princess, she never ate ass like this sissy does, he thought, letting a grin spread across his handsome snout. His smoldering eyes gained a pleasured glaze.

"Mmm, ooh, gawd, ga-a-awd," Spitey moaned, rolling back his eyes. He slightly twisted his legs inward, and his toes splayed. Bowser felt the mighty clenches before the visual report, and then Spitey came, shooting many meaty ropes of spunk up along his body, making himself messy with his own slop. He couldn't help but wince as his butt gaped and gulped against the huge invading mass of Bowser's prick. Even though the sensation was pleasurable, it still felt incredibly awkward for his rectal muscles to struggle around it.

Bowser didn't care that his beloved Bitey was experiencing pleasure and pain on equal grounds, because he was just about to pop, himself. He bit his lower lip and grumbled a rough little noise before he reached back and grabbed hold of Desmond's head, yanking the fox closer, however useless the attempt was. Desmond shrieked and yowled, retracting his tongue, but the damage was done and his black button of a nose had partially vanished into the king's sweaty asshole.

Suddenly and noisily enough that even Spitey flinched, Bowser roared ferociously, the cavern of his bedroom doubling and tripling the sound back upon itself before sending it screaming down the halls like a thunderclap. He erupted into Spitey with volcanic fury, blasting seemingly endless ropes of thick, virile, and particularly hot semen seem into the drake to the point that his belly took on a mild curve before the tenuous seal of his anus gave way and the cum gushed back out of him, running down Bowser's taut and throbbing ballbag.

Through his immodest orgasm and as he snarled to cap off his roar, Bowser kept the protesting Desmond pressed tight against his ass. His pucker smooched and winked on the fox's nose, nearly suffocating him with an overabundance of musk. The sweat soaked Desmond's fur and left his colors saturated. Even as the koopa pulled back and let his cum gush from Spitey's gaped ass like a busted dam, he held the foxcoon to his fat ass. Whether it was a show of dominance or if he was simply too blitzed on pleasure to realize what he was doing with his hands, Bowser kept the foxcoon there for a very long time.

Bowser's afterglow began to take form, and he fell onto his side, at last unhanding the fox. Desmond stayed put a moment longer, thinking it a test of character until Bowser snickered breathlessly, "That's enough, Dustin."

Spitey dipped a finger into the mess on his chest and tasted it, as if stealing a lick of cake batter. "Mmm, that was the best yet, your majesty," he sighed to King Bowser.

"I'll say," Bowser chuckled, and glanced back at Desmond. He took stock of the foxcoon's sweaty, panting, blushing face as well as his swollen penis. "Looks like you need to take care of that."

"Oh? But it's nothing," said Desmond, trying to play it off.

Bowser was having none of that. He called for a guard, and when another pair of his Koopatrol showed up - completely unfazed by the gay tableau on the bed, no less - Bowser said, "Take this boy to Kamek. I believe there's a pair of recently-transformed guards who should ju-u-ust be finishing up with their bimbo brainwashing." He urged the blush-faced fox off the bed and said as the guards started to lead him off, "And if they won't give it up for him, twist their tits until they change their minds!"

When Bowser looked back at Spitey, he saw the drake to be wearing a grin. "What?" the koopa sourly asked.

"That was nice of you," Spitey cooed. "You're not as rotten as you like people to think."

The King of the Koopas sneered and put his nose against the dragon's. "Maybe you're right. Means I gotta fuck you again, even harder. Got an image to keep up."

Spitey smooched Bowser between the nostrils. He smiled. "Your secret will always be safe with me, your majesty."