Work Down the Pole

Story by Tristan Hawthorne on SoFurry

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Commission for Murdoc

All characters were provided by Murdoc


Jittery with excitement, Oliver pranced through the door from the public space of the club to the hall connecting the private show rooms. He was a slender fox, maybe 5'4" all told, and had dressed in hip-hugging jeans and a tube top. "VIP room six. It was six, right?"

His companion for the evening, Easton, was a bit more nervous as he followed, the music of the routines being performed fading as the door closed behind him. The white mustang ran a hand through his mane, tugging down on the front of his tee shirt for the seventeenth time that night. It kept riding up from his defined muscles flexing and stretching underneath the thin fabric. He was close to seven feet tall, and had to crane his head down just to talk to the cute fox. "Y-yeah... Six."

The small vulpine tapped on his phone with his thumb. "Oooh, we're getting Dallas." He raised the phone up to show the picture of a body-builder caliber vampire bat to the equine, tattooed and pierced and, judging from the bulge in the turquoise jockstrap, very well hung.

"I think him being assigned that room means he's getting us." Easton chuckled awkwardly as they arrived at the correct door. The door reached up nearly all the way to the high ceiling, at least two feet higher than the horse's ears. A quick tap with a hoofish finger on the handle told him that the door was locked, so he fidgeted with his shirt some more.

Oliver dragged his thumb along the phone, reading. "Man... most of the performers here are veterans."

"Like, went to war, came back shell-shocked to strip?" Easton looked dubious at the claim.

The fox rolled his eyes, "No one says shell-shocked anymore." He continued scrolling. "Ex marine, ex green beret, ex army ranger..."

"It's like the VA in here." The mustang quipped, looking around.

"Except they actually care about vets here." A rich baritone voice from the horse's blind spot caused a start. The owner of the voice was a black ram wearing nothing but a blue jockstrap, standing at least 8 inches taller than the horse. He raised a tiny digital camera and snapped a picture with the flash on as the pair of customers turned to look his way.

Oliver blinked away the flash in time to see the ram casually opening the door to the room for them. "Oh. Thank you."

The ram chuckled, "Just making sure you're where you ought to be before Dallas gets here." He casually swung around holding onto the doorframe, his massive body forming a wall that impelled the pair to walk through the door.

Easton was a blushing mess, caught in his awkward, thoughtless mode of coping by an employee, and such a hot one no less. He walked right over to the seats intended for customers and sat down, averting his eyes.

The fox stared up at the towering ram, most easily able to look at his pecs from below than his face from how close he was. His fingers twitched, but he resisted the urge to touch. He eventually tore his eyes away and went to sit next to his companion.

The black furred behemoth in the doorway chuckled. "Enjoy your show, boys..." He slipped away and closed the door.

The mustang didn't have time to wallow in his embarrassment before the door opened again. The pair looked intently as it swung inward to reveal their private show's performer.

The brown-furred bat was significantly taller than his ram coworker, by nearly a foot. His musculature was beautifully toned, but thick enough to bely the power his frame held. On one arm was a violet tattoo standing out from his short fur, and both his nipples were pierced with small rings. Instead of unified arm wings like some bats had, the performer had beautifully formed arms, and beautiful wings folded along his back, the wrists of which came up to around the same level as his upright ears. He shut the door behind him without breaking eye contact with his customers. "Good evening. My name's Dallas and I'll be your entertainment." His masculine voice lilted slightly, seductive in its strength.

Oliver nodded absently; his focus was entirely on the turquoise jock the stripper was wearing, the sum total of the bat's apparel. The fox was drooling openly, hands gripping the sides of his seat.

"One word of advice, boys:" Dallas strutted up to the bar in the middle of the room, casually lifting one leg up to hook it into the crook of his knee, leaning out to one side while grasping the pole, looking directly to his audience. "There's no rules against touching, but the rules do say that if you do decide to touch, I can touch back, in any way I like." He winked at the horse and fox, before flexing his arm and starting to fully go up onto the rotating pole. The digit on the joint of his wing on the same side reached and grasped the bar as well, before he twisted to wrap his other leg around, grinding the bulge in his jock against the chromed metal, before he tilted back to show off his arms more overtly, holding onto the pole with just one leg and his wings, teasingly hiding the majority of his torso as his free leg gave a gentle kick to the floor, sending him spinning around.

Easton watched the powerhouse of a bat effortlessly swing around and round, shifting poses. The mustang was squirming in his seat already, eyes tracing along the brown fur, kept short enough to translate every crease of where muscle meets muscle. He perked, as suddenly the turquoise that had adorned the bat's hips was being held in one hand, the wings continuing to keep enough of himself covered to keep up a tease for his audience. The stallion felt faint with so much blood rushing from his head.

His vulpine companion jittered in his seat, holding on tight, before he clearly couldn't keep his hands to himself anymore. He pushed off the chair with his hands, tucked his legs under onto the seat, before kicking off in a dramatic pounce towards the spinning behemoth on the pole.

Dallas allowed himself a monosyllabic chuckle as he swung around to meet the leaping fox. He wrapped both legs tight around the pole, and tucked one wing across his torso, before the other spread out like a scoop, ensnaring the airborne vulpine and then snapping back shut. The bat grinned, the form of the fox able to be read in the stretch of his wings' membranes. His spinning continued unchanged, despite catching and carrying a whole fox's weight heading the other way from him.

The horse jumped onto his hooves, staring.

Oliver was adjusted in the grip until his head peeked up over the top of the bat's wings, only for one hand to grasp the back of his head and force his muzzle between his enormous pectorals.

The bat grinned broadly. "Bet you could just get lost in my chest. Too bad that's not my plan for you." He grasped the fox and pulled him up a bit higher, then pressed him back down, the action hidden by both wings gripping the bars as before, making a private space from the equine observer. As he finished pushing down there was a quite audible squelch coming from the stripper's hips.

Easton shuddered, a wet spot forming in his too-tight pants at the tip of the distinctive bulge running along one thigh, as quickly his view of the fox was totally obscured.

Dallas gave the horse a wink on his next rotation, and a look at his beautifully sculpted glutes told the equine that he was rolling his hips in a deliberate thrusting manner. The behemoth bat's rocking and grinding elicited moans and whimpers from the hidden fox.

The stallion swallowed, and slowly sat back down, grinding a thumb along the bulge in his pants. His eyes were locked on the bat sliding over muscle and wing, along his face and down to his hips, never seeming to be able to leave the boundaries of the brown fur.

The enormous performer licked his lips slowly, and then spun around one more time, pulling one wing away from the pole and revealing his own. The bat's shaft was impossibly girthy, and the reason became apparent immediately. Protruding from the slit was a familiar fox's muzzle, nostrils flaring faintly, the form of the fox readable through the underside of Dallas' member. The brown bat grinned, stroking over the shape inside, and thrust forwards firmly, the motion dragging that muzzle out of sight.

The action set off a switch in Easton's mind, freeing him from his dumbfounded stare during the revelation of just where Oliver had gone. "W-what?"

"He knew the rules." The baritone voice of the bat nearly resonated in the small room. "He's mine now. Care to join him?" He slipped off of the pole smoothly, approaching the horse, his shaft's tip flaring and gaping open, as if specifically to show the horse that the fox was gone.

Easton shuddered, and whined softly, torn between fear and arousal, his eyes trailing from the slit when it closed back up down to the stripper's balls, and there he saw the loosely curled up form of a figure, weighing down one side of the sac. "Oliver?" He thoughtlessly reached out to try to feel his friend.

Dallas grinned, flexing his shaft again, angling his hips casually, putting the open slit on a collision course with the horse's muzzle as he leaned forward to reach. He bit his lower lip firmly as his slit closed just in front of his second catch's eyes. "I'm taking that as a big yes." He ground his hips forwards while flexing, the muscular insides of the rod dragging the horse in as much as his glutes were forcing the shaft over Easton's head.

Raising his arms up, the equine attempted to shove the bat's ravenous shaft off of him, digging his thumbs into the leaking slit to try to get a grip as it squeezed in around his neck. His arms flexed as he pressed, managing to stop the forward motion for a few moments, his sounds of distress muffled by the pulsing phallic flesh surrounding his head.

The bat chuckled, rolling his hips, before very purposefully flaring the tip of his member while giving a powerful thrust forwards. The motion made his catch lose grip, both hands surging up and into the urethra, before a second greedy shove of Dallas' hips made everything above the horse's lats vanish from view.

Easton whinnied in distress, his fur all the way to the underside of his pecs saturated with the bat's pre. He let his knees buckle and tried to use his weight to pull back. To his dismay, his ass hit the audience chair he'd been in, inverting the leverage he'd hoped to achieve.

"It's just too easy." The massive male rumbled idly as he thrust forwards again, bending his knees to get his hips closer to seat level, his heavy, squirming sac swaying close to the carpet. Planting his hands on his hips, the bat spread this thighs out with every indulgent thrust, until he felt his glans grind into the upholstery, signaling that he'd reached his meal's hips. With a low groan he stood back up to his full towering height, flexing his shaft at the same time, which yanked the horse's rump out of his seat and up into the air, nearly standing fully upright before the weight pulled it down towards the horizontal.

With his legs freed from the pin to the chair, Easton started kicking and struggling properly, as his muzzle pressed to a tight ring somewhere inside the bat's pelvic floor, feeling the phallic peristalsis start there and roll up to the tip, clenching and pulling on his body the whole way.

Dallas took one step back, pivoting and swinging his shaft around to the pole, giving another firm flex upwards. He grinned as he watched the horse's still clothed cheeks squish around the metal pole as his weight dropped him to be supported by the metal. The bat ground forwards, starting to flex and pose with his arms despite a lack of audience who would appreciate it. He gave his upper arm tattoo a kiss while flexing his bicep hard, and then ran his other hand along his chiseled abs to the base of his shaft, grasping the base, grinning to himself as he felt the cranium buried in the pulsing flesh there.

Wincing at the pressure to his taint from the metal pole, the equine tried to struggle, flexing his fingers in the hotter depths of the stripper ahead of him. Suddenly his angle against the pole changed, grinding into his poor teased bulge in his pants. Easton groaned weakly, before realizing what was happening.

A casual movement allowed Dallas to scoop both hooves into the grip of just his thumb and finger on one hand, no more pressure required to keep the horse from struggling. Raising them up over his greedy member, the behemoth bat let his arm drop, gaping his arousal with a practiced flex. This let the combined weight of the horse and his powerful arm sink his prey in past his knees in one fell surge.

Suddenly pressed through that muscular barrier, Easton found his head and arms pressing into a faintly lit chamber, a thick viscous substance coating his hands. Rubbing his fingers together he quickly confirmed that he was being pressed into a pool of cum. There was no sign of Oliver in front of him. The horse swallowed nervously, and let out a whinny as he dropped again, his face pressing into the fleshy wall through which a bit of light filtered through.

Grinning, the powerful performer pivoted again, his free hand reaching back to steady himself on the pole as he faced away, crouching. Dallas' hand that had been holding the hooves together slid down to feel over the face-shape distorting his previously unoccupied nut, trailing his tongue over his teeth slowly. The bat let his head fall back, working his feet forwards as his arm stayed supporting him on the pole. With a clench of his toes into the room's carpet, he started to thrust up into the air, causing his prey-filled sac to sway heavily, each thrust into the air taking inches of the remains of the horse's legs out of sight.

A knock came from the locked door. "Hey Dallas, you nearly done in there?"

The bat rolled his eyes, "Almost taken care of our customers. Might as well come in, Jordan." He thrust one more time before pulling with his arm and changing the motion into a roll up to stand up fully, pivoting around to face away from the doorway as it unlocked.

Distantly, Easton could hear his captor's baritone rumble, but he couldn't quite make out the words. He was far too focused on the last place he could feel something other than the bat's heated flesh, the soft undersides of his hooves.

The ram from before, Jordan, slipped into the room and locked the door behind himself. He winked, casually hooked his thumbs into his blue jockstrap, and effortlessly dropped it to the floor between his cloven hooves. This left his black pelt entirely exposed, his own arousal already on the way to its full size as it pulsed in front of him.

Dallas ground a thumb along the crest of his glans as he turned towards his coworker. "Would you mind helping make sure I don't make a mess of this place?" The horse's hooves were still just barely protruding from his stretched slit, the bat teasingly holding his prey in place with his well-trained muscles.

With a simple flick of one ear, a pair of magnum condoms dropped from where they had been pinned to Jordan's horn. The ram caught them in his hand and bit the edge of one, before efficiently opening the other with his thick fingers. He turned the condom around in his hand and took a step forwards to press the dimpled reservoir over the peeking hooves, before starting to roll the rubber sheath down over the powerful erection, feeling the musculature of the trapped horse's legs under his hands as he smoothed the condom down along the underside of the bat's shaft.

Easton weakly struggled, his upper body feeling weird and waterlogged in the cumbath he was experiencing, no longer able to feel the cool air of the room against the undersides of his hooves. Then he lurched downwards again.

The massive bat licked his lips and resumed flexing and thrusting into the air now that his shaft was covered, gripping the base of the condom with one hand as he felt his slit finally able to close all the way once more.

Jordan took the other condom from his teeth and opened its package as well, taking a step back to watch the rest of the horse's form sluice down and out of the bat's girth, causing his left ball to bounce down from the added weight, before coming back up. The ram casually stroked the condom onto his own arousal as he watched, the form of the first meal barely discernable compared to the equine.

The horse in question groaned and writhed as he was given access to his legs again, pushing his hooves out at the slick, clinging wall around him.

Dallas chuckled and casually pressed over the hoof-shaped bulges in his sac, smoothing them down in his palm. The bat gestured to his fellow stripper to turn around.

"I got a better idea." The ram grinned. He strode forwards, trailing a finger along the underside of the bat's wrapped up member as he walked right past him to the pole. He bent at the hips and grasped the pole with both hands. His stubby little tail flicked up to show off his fleshy pucker hidden between muscular cheeks. "Get to it, I gotta be on stage in 20 minutes."

Grinning, the muscular bat turned to follow, and lined up with a casual press from two fingers atop his shaft. He took a step forwards, grunting as the lubricated condom spread the muscular passage. "Guh... Jordan, you're so fuckin' tight...."

The ram clenched down firmly, stopping the insertion entirely. "I mean, you do have an enormous man-eater of a cock." He chuckled sultrily, before relaxing his passage. "Now, let me feel your balls on my thighs as they soften and churn."

"Don't gotta tell me twice." The bat reached forwards and grasped the pole as well, flexing his arm as he pushed off the carpet with his feet, arcing his whole body inward in support of thrusting his predatory shaft deep into Jordan.

Inside, Easton grunted as he accelerated to one side, before slamming into something on the far side of his fleshy prison, the few words he could make out combined with the shape telling him that the statuesque hard shape he'd slammed into was one of the ram's thighs. He punched at the shape and yelped at how hard it felt, shaking out his hand.

Jordan laughed. "You've got a lively one in there, Dallas." He ground his hips back till his cheeks pressed up against the bat's hand holding onto the base of his condom. "It'll be fun to feel him melt."

Grinning, the bat took his hand off his base and down to grope over the smaller of his testes, which smushed between his fingers easily. "His friend's already done brewing." He returned his hand to grasp the edge of the condom and pulled back with a grunt, before thrusting forwards again. "Damn, are you trying to drag my condom off or something?"

The horse whinnied wetly as he slammed from one thigh to another with the thrust from above, feeling like he was being smashed against stone columns. The two strippers' bodies were so muscular, and they must have been flexing to be so hard. Or... Easton's eyes widened, and looked down at his hand that he punched with before. It was definitely squished, like dough or clay. He started to kick again, only to discover his hooves had smoothed away while soaking in the bath of cum beneath him. He was melting into the bat's cum.

The ram grinned and ground back again. "You trying to say that condom's too big for you?" He shifted his leg to compress the struggling nut between his thigh and Dallas' own, groaning indulgently as he felt the softening equine's thrashing.

"Fuck you." The massive tattooed performer ground forward with a grunt, unable to keep the smirk off his face. The sensation of the increasingly liquefied stallion was driving him closer and closer to his peak.

Easton whinnied weakly, his vocal chords feeling like they were melting. His face was the only part of him that wasn't submerged at this point. He could barely feel any other part of his body. He closed his eyes and groaned as he sank in all the way. He really shouldn't have fucked around.

Jordan flexed and bore down on his coworker's shaft, bucking back to meet every thrust, before he started to feel the girthy cock begin to buck tellingly. He pulled himself forwards, relaxing.

Simultaneously, Dallas pulled his hips back, before slapping his condom-wrapped member down on the shelf of the ram's ass, just to the side of his tail, the reservoir at the tip suddenly stretching and bulging out, looking almost like a modeling balloon from the sheer momentum of that first rope of cum pushing on the latex, before it snapped back into a shapeless lump resting on the sculpted back wrapped in short black fur.

Feeling the next shot slide up along his back as well, Jordan shifted, turning his body as he dropped into a crouch. He deftly caught the sagging reservoir in his hands, the weight of the gallon of seed inside slushing down around his fingers. The next powerful shot stretched the latex to strike his face before the elastic pulled itself down into the growing mass that had rolled into his arms.

The bat laughed between deep breaths, his muscular body tensed with his orgasm. His wings were outstretched and quivering, while he felt as though he might bend the pole if he grasped it much harder. "That's the cleanest facial I've ever seen..." He squeezed the underside of his shaft as it pulsed again, increasing the pressure to repeat the spectacle for his own amusement.

"Hah hah." Jordan smirked, avoiding a third collision by tilting back, continuing to support the bag of cum dangling off the tip of the other stripper's dick as it filled. The reservoir was big enough to hold the fox, and still growing. The ram carefully used one hand to reach up to his horn and peel something taped onto the inward side.

Dallas looked down curiously. "Now, what's that?" He willfully flexed his pelvic floor, working on prolonging his orgasm so that he could get his nuts back to a size he could fit in his jockstrap.

Grinning now, the black ram showed his coworker the photo of the two customers he'd taken earlier. There was still viable tape on it, and he turned his hand around and slapped the photo onto the condom, grinding his thumb to make sure it adhered to the latex properly.

The bat groaned and jerked his hips, redoubling his flow for a few seconds, the lumps of his prey's clothes surging up the underside of his shaft, before joining the growing mass of fluid. Dallas clenched his eyes shut, feeling his deflating balls gradually rising up along his sculpted thighs. Finally, the pumping slowed to a gush, then a trickle. "Nnnngh.... There we go."

Jordan reached forward and carefully pulled the condom off Dallas' shaft with one hand while the other held onto the back of the reservoir, before tying it off like a water balloon with a deft, practiced ease. Once the bat gave him enough room he pressed up into a standing position, looked around, before setting the massive sloshing bag of cum and undiscarded clothing onto the audience seating, making sure the photo was facing the pole.

Dallas eased his jockstrap back on, fidgeting with the fabric to get his spent, engorged shaft to fit within the garment, before bending down to pick up Jordan's own. He grunted in surprise, as he felt the still-wrapped shaft of the ram slide along his taint.

Jordan's arms grasped the bat's bulky torso and dragged him back to the shorter stripper's chest, the ram holding him just high enough to not be able to reach the ground with his feet. The dense musculature hidden under black fur swelled with power as he manhandled the larger male.

"Hey, don't you have a show in like 5 minutes?" Dallas objected.

The ram grinned. "You can be part of it. C'mon."