FSE

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The city laid sprawled amidst a humid jungle next to a wide river, its muddy waters rolling sluggishly and hiding big saurian beasts. Upriver laid rich plantations where naked beast folk toiled in the sweltering heat, harvesting exotic crops much prized by the thrill-seekers and the decadent. They were connected by river boats to the docks, the city's sprawling center that fed it its lifeblood, served by the sweat of rough stallions and water buffaloes hauling the precious cargo. The city's busy streets were narrow and twisting, where people from all walks of life mingled--human merchants, jackal beggars, rodent pilgrims, crocodiles basking in the sun--hot, smelly, crowded, all of them burning with the desperate need to make their fortune here by any means necessary. High above them loomed the luxurious mansions of the feline nobility, the city's owners and masters, dressed in the finest silks and jewelry and keen on partaking in the jaded delights the city offered to the idle rich.

By afternoon the sun had lost most of its fierce glare, yet it still enveloped the amphitheater near market place in a humid pall. Dust rose from the ground as the contestants trotted across the grounds and rose to an elevated stage erected solely for this purpose. The gathered crowds jeered cheerily as Achilles, a gray piebald stallion of considerable bulk stepped up and walked around the stage in his red satin cloak and crotch piece. He raised his hands victoriously and let the cloak slid down from his shoulders, letting the spectators admire his muscular shape.

He had thick legs and arms bulging with muscle, round smooth torso with some fat padding, and round pecs that rose puffy from his wide chest. His short hair was blue-gray and spotted with white blotches, his ankles had white fetlocks that the wind toyed with, a black mane cropped short along his neck, and his tail was docked into a tight bundle. His muzzle had a pink splotch on it, and he looked at his opponent along his nose with his large, blue eyes. He snorted and flexed his body, making his round buttocks and belly shiver as he did so. A couple of small foxes in attendant's uniforms scurried behind him and picked the cloak off the floor.

On the opposite end of the arena, the crowd parted to make way for the second contestant. Hector walked at a brisk pace towards the wooden stage and stepped on it with one agile movement. He saluted the motley crowd that had gathered today to see him. Soon, they would witness his triumph or his humiliation. Undaunted by the gaze of hundreds of eager eyes, he took off his blue cloak and unveiled his athletic body and lithe muscles. He was a middle-sized bay stallion with dark eyes and a shiny, vivid brown coat turning black at the end of his powerful arms and legs. His crotch was hidden behind a leather jockstrap, but there too his short fur took a tantalizingly darker color as it crept closer to his genitals.

After theatrically waiting for a few seconds, he untied the knot that kept his codpiece in place and shielded his modesty, revealing a heavy ball sack of black, leathery skin and an smooth, hairless sheath. After raising his hands to salute the crowd, he turned his eyes towards Achilles, his long-time lover and rival on the road to the glory and riches.

Achilles walked across the stage to measure up his opponent, coming to stop close enough that his belly almost brushed against Hector. He planted his hands on his hips and stared him in the eyes.

"You're going down today", he spoke with a deliberate slowness, doling out each word like punctuation.

He lowered his hands, without breaking eye contact, and tugged at the strings that held his codpiece up. The flimsy cloth dropped down, revealing his pair of heavy, juicy balls dangling below his dark-colored sheath. It was loose, hairless and silky smooth with a wrinkled flat tip. His odor was impossible not to notice as he stood up close, the musk of a full grown horse stallion having basked in the oppressive heat of the day lingering around him. He had gone three days without bathing before the match, which he believed increased his manliness, and it most definitely made his musk rank and sharp.

Hector tapped his finger against Achilles's chest with a disdainful air, and replied with a clear, loud voice that carried over the arena.

"On a normal day I would be the loudest to cheer for you, but today you will not be leaving this arena without having tasted the dust." Hector sniffed the air theatrically and snorted, as defiant as a seasoned gladiator that he was. "It smells like you have been rolling in it already."

"I'll make you eat the those words", Achilles cracked his neck, "among other things." He extended his hand for a shake. "No mercy?"

Hector grabbed Achilles's extended hand up to the forearm and boomed to the pleasure of the raucous crowd. "I will be utterly merciless today!"

However, their cheering masked the softer words that he slipped to Achilles after that, and they did not notice the quick wink that followed.

"None asked, none given!" Achilles responded. They nodded as the crowd shouted and stamped their feet at the sight of the two big stallions clasping hands. Then the moment was over and they parted, walking towards their own corners.

Achilles's two fox attendants wore simple knee high pants, and started fussing around him immediately. One of them rose on a stool to pour olive oil on his neck from a large earthenware jar, balancing on his toes precariously as he handled the heavy container. The oil flowed freely on his mane and shoulders, cascading in rivulets in the grooves of the stallion's muscled back, and splattered on his firm, protruding buttocks. Achilles flexed as the fox started to work it in his skin much to the enjoyment of the crowd. On his front side the other fox slipped two of his fingers into his jiggly at sheath and stretched it wider. He poured oil down into the opening with great gusto, until it spilled over and lathered his crotch with a slick oily sheen. The fox set the jar aside and started massaging the larger male's sheath and testicles, his fingers making wet, squelching noises as he worked the slack, heavy flesh, every squeeze pushing out more oil from the stallion's leathery sheath and dribbling over the attendant's hands.

Hector was similarly prepared in his corner, his athletic body standing proudly erect, as a small fox stood tip-toed on a stool and poured a generous measure of oil around his neck. The yellow-green liquid trickled down his short-trimmed fur in shiny rivers that split and joined again as they followed the curves, bumps, and crevices of his muscles. Unlike the crowd the fox did not have the luxury to simply watch the spectacle passively. He poured another measure of oil into his hands, staining his own fur in the process, and got to work. He rubbed and smeared the greasy liquid on the exposed skin, starting from the torso and shoulders and spending a bit of extra time on the rock hard nipples to please the already excited crowd. He carefully massaged each arm and the powerful legs, ensuring that the champion's muscles would be well-relaxed before the battle. The buttocks were next, and the fox poured some more oil down the crack and spread the mighty buttcheeks with one hand while rubbing their inner sides with the other. The sheath and ball sack were kept for last. This area being a prime target during each fight, the fox ensured that it was lathered in oil until each of the two heavy orbs was slippery and hard to catch. Soon the whole crotch shined in the sun.

Achilles's attendant worked the oil onto his belly, making a stop to fingerfuck his bellybutton tenderly, before getting on a ladder to massage his bulging pecs and the hard black nipples pointing outwards. The other fox had lowered down to between his legs, first rubbing oil onto his sweaty unwashed ass crack then starting to work in the smelly mess into his black, puffy asshole. He made a fist with his small hands and plunged them in, one by one stretching out the loose skin of the stallion's anus and shoved in the lubricant by handfuls. The attention was starting to have an effect on Achilles, his hefty cockflesh twitched in its sheath and started slowly to protrude making the crowd go wild. Achilles kneeled and the fox upended the rest of the oil on his head. It ran down his nose and neck, coated him with a glistening layer of slick, warm lube. The large stallion dripped oil like a stormcloud water, spattering his shadow with droplets falling from his thoroughly soaked body. He felt ready for the fight, and struck his fist against his hand, sending oil flying everywhere.

Hector observed his opponent calmly at first, but the fox's busy little paws on his naked body and the sight of the hulking, oil-coated male were taking their toll. A fleshy bud emerged at the top of his sheath and blossomed into a manly, black flower mottled with pink to the obvious delight of the gathered crowd. Growing increasingly impatient, the stallion wrestled the jar from the attendant's hands and poured its contents on top of his head, as if the warm, heavy liquid could quench the rising fire inside him. He saved the last of the oil and poured it along the entire length of his now fully erect fuck stick. With a quick jerk of his dripping muzzle he instructed the fox to put on the finishing touches. The small canid hurried to comply, and using both hands he rubbed the hard shaft up and down, smearing it with the fragrant lubricant from its mushroom-like tip to its thick base. Satisfied with the job, Hector dismissed the fox with a curt gesture and stepped towards the middle of the ring, his erect maleness dripping and ready for the fight.

Achilles met him in the middle, where a fox referee was waiting for them. As he walked his hardening member swayed from side to side, quickly reaching its full prowess as it rolled out of its sheath. It was nearly the size of his arm, black at its base but turned bright pink before middle, with a flat, swollen mushroom tip. Puffy veins decorated its length, pumping his thick blood in the rhythm of his thunderous heart beat. The referee explained the rules but neither contestant was paying him much attention, having heard them so many times. They eyed each other with judging expressions, weighing their skill against the sight of a overpoweringly sexual display of maleness. Finally the referee bid them ready to start, took their thick cocks in his hands and pressed their tips against each other. Achilles could feel the hard ridge of Hector's protruding piss hole against his, and couldn't help a bead of precum escaping his and rolling into the other stallion. They were in the starting positions for their match.

Hector was so close to Achilles that he could feel his unmistakable scent, a mixture of sweat, musk and hay, under the thick and overpowering smell of the oil that coated their bodies. The familiar odour, along with the hard grasp of the referee and the intimate contact with the tip of his lover's erect shaft were enough to send a shiver down his spine and pump fresh blood into his already throbbing cock. He fought hard to repress the urge to grind his maleness against his partner's, as he had a fight to win. Achilles gulped from the shiver the intimate touch sent along his body, his hips clenching as he fought against his urges. The small motion made his shiny ball sack jiggle, his heavy orbs prominent under the thin skin. He clasped his hands on his opponent's shoulders, who replied by grabbing him by wrists and tried to pry him off. Both of them had difficulty as their fingers slipped and slid against the oil and sweat slickened hides. The game was on.

Hector had to think quickly. His adversary was bulkier than he and his only hope was to be as nimble as possible, if he did not want to end up pinned to the ground under the heavier horse's weight and stroked to a quick and humiliating defeat. Letting go of Achilles's wrists, he ducked and let himself drop to his knees. Before his opponent had time to react, he seized his meaty cock with both hands and rubbed his swollen, fleshy glans against his own muzzle, caressing it with his lips and smearing precum on his mouth.

Achilles shuddered, wavering for a moment between wanting to win or feel those smooth lips fully around his throbbing cock, but then kneed the other man on his chest trying to send him on his back. However, Hector clinged on, stroking his member tenaciously and sending waves of pleasure through Achilles's crotch. He saw no other option but to drop down himself, pulling the other man along with his weight. He slipped Hector in a headlock, tightening his neck in the crook of his arm between his hard muscles, and searched with his free hand along the tan stallions back and between his ass cheeks. He hooked his fingers into the Hector's warm pucker and pulled, trapping his cock between their glistening, oiled bellies.

The whinnying and grunting of large studs amused and aroused the audience. Several onlookers were already touching each other, hands slipping into pockets and under belts, both humans and beastfolk paying attention to their neighbors regardless of the divide of rank and species between them.

"You like it that way, don't you? Give in...", Achilles's hot breath panted into Hector's ear as he tightened the squeeze.

Hector gasped. The intrusive fingers had forced his black, pouty asshole open and were prying his insides ruthlessly but with undeniable skill. His head was locked as firmly as in iron jaws of a trap, and his nostrils rubbed directly against the sweaty hide of his merciless lover, the smell flowing directly into his overexcited brain. He felt his cock twitch involuntarily and spurt a little stream of precum. He struggled and puffed under the unflinching grip of the stronger male but to no avail. Almost panicking, he suddenly realized that his arm was still free.

"Yes, I... love it... but not as much as you'll love this!"

His hand plunged blindly towards Achilles's crotch, and he felt his fingers close around a large, warm ovoid form--his weak spot! He started kneading the other stallion's heavy colt-makers, squeezing them between his strong fingers, tugging at the skin that was slippery with a mixture of sweat and oil. At the same time, he wriggled his whole body, not in an attempt to free himself, but to grind his adversary's cock against his own tense muscles in a double-pronged assault.

Achilles clenched his teeth as he felt his lover's rough hand on his malehood, massaging and caressing the source of his sex drive. He moaned and had to let go before the sensation would grow too much to tolerate, rolling deftly aside on the floor and springed onto his feet. The two stallions stood poised, searching for an opening in the other's defenses, and the crowd grew impatient, jeering and shouting lewd suggestions. Achilles eased and stood in relaxed position, sneering as he slowly stroked his own cock with the hand that had been in Hector's ass in a cocky display of bravado.

"Is that all you got? Do I have to make myself cum if you're not up to it?"

Despite his challenge and dismissive attitude sweat was already beading on his forehead, and he could feel his cock tremble in his fist. He let go and licked his fingers, tossing aside mane that was drooping over his eyes.

Hector stood half crouched, panting and ready to pounce. This had been a close one, too close for his comfort. To his shame, the sight of his lover-turned-rival standing proudly erect and touching himself provocatively made his cock twitch nervously again. He spurted another jet of precum which splattered on the well-worn planks of the arena. Roused by the sight, the crowd jeered again. Feeling the blood rising to his temples from both embarrassment and arousal, the bay stallion replied in a raspy voice.

"I will make you spill your load and you will not leave until you have licked every last drop of it."

"Make me", Achilles gestured to Hector to attack. As he did so he shifted his pose, his hooves finding a new footing, hiding his other arm behind his bulky body.

He was obviously setting up a trap, but was he too confident in his abilities by leaving himself seemingly open? There was only one way to find out.

Hector neighed defiantly and charged the piebald stallion. The other stood in place, assured that his heavy frame would give him the advantage in any wrestling match. However, as the two were about to collide, Hector dropped to the floor and rolled between his adversary's open legs. Extending his arm, he thrust his hand directly towards Achilles's exposed asshole, intending to finish him off with a well-placed blow.

Achilles bent his knee and guided the strike to glance off his inner thigh harmlessly, then squatted and slammed his ass on Hector's midriff, pinning the other stallion under his steel hard buttocks. Without another word he worked his way downwards on his knees and grasped both his and Hector's cocks in his meaty paw, and started to grind those throbbing horse erections against each other. As he did so his wide, plump ass flesh bounced on top of the other male, smacking his loins with wet, slick slapping sounds, his perky tail bobbing up and down along the motion. Achilles's entire weight rested on top of his lover and adversary, the warmth of his thick thighs and oiled balls urgent and pressing on Hector's rippling abdominal muscles. Achilles gave his glans a tentative squeeze, then Hector's. Both leaked precum profusely by now, dribbling the clear fluid on top of each other in turns along the grinding motions of Achilles's hips.

Hector swore quietly, his breath almost cut by the weight of the massive, smelly stallion sitting atop him, and his stamina drained by his foolish charge and the growing strain in his crotch. He wriggled and tried to squirm from under Achilles's bulk but to no avail. He was only making himself more aroused by rubbing his partner's muscular buttcheeks against his belly and smearing more of the odorous, intoxicating mixture of oil, ass musk and sweat on his skin.

"You big oaf, get off of me or I'll crush you!"

Hector roared, but he knew it was more for the show than in any hope of making his partner stop, who by now could feel victory knocking at the door. Achilles was massaging Hector's rock solid cock head expertly, kneading it with his thick fingers and rubbing his protruding piss hole. He leaned closer and spit on it for extra lubrication, his gooey saliva hitting the hot flesh making Hector shiver with pleasure. Achilles's own cock bobbed ahead of them untouched and free, out of the harm's way.

A desperate strategy came to Hector. Gathering the last of his strength, he bucked his hips sending his partner off-balance, then grasped his hands around him and latched on the base of his massive stallion cock. He squeezed and stroked the stiff member firmly, just at his lover's favorite spot, increased pressure and warmth right where a mare's pussy would clench were they mating. Achilles tried to pry him off, but only had one hand free and his oil-coated fingers simply slipped as they tried to bend the steely grip. Instead of trying to free himself from the predicament Hector had chosen to outlast his opponent in their race to cum!

Achilles panted and shivered, oil shimmering on the muscles contracting and relaxing on his back, snorting great puffs or air from his flaring nostrils. Feeling Hector's fingers rub against his tender underside made him clench his teeth and arch his back involuntarily, rolling his hips to reveal his glistening asshole to his captive. He had to stop grinding against Hector to prevent that terrible pleasure that was welling up in his crotch from bursting out in a gush of semen, and shifted on stroking both rock hard malehoods in his hands. He went slowly, tugging the cocks as he went downwards, then smooshed their tips together as he returned upwards, his rough grip tight on those veiny steel bars of lust. It was a matter of endurance now, both men so very close to the edge... the crowd chanted with cheer and excitement and counted the cock strokes aloud--one, two, three!

Hope flooded into Hector's brain as he felt the bulk of Achilles lifted off his body and he heard the heavy stallion snort in surprise and uncontrolled pleasure. Sweat was pouring abundantly from his tormented body and the merciless sun was beating on his face. Still, he clenched his teeth and curled his fingers. The loud cheers of the crowd were making him determined to endure for as long as possible as their two cocks were ground together in a cruel battle of attrition. He thought he could withstand just a few moments longer, but then an overpowering scent of maleness washed over his face. Opening his eyes he saw Achilles's majestic ass towering over him, his oiled, glistening, pink asshole looking directly into his eyes. At the same moment, the other stallion gave one last vigorous thrust that sent the bay horse over the edge.

Achilles climaxed. The wave welled up from deep within the base of his body, and the first jet of his raunchy smelly stallion cum shot in the air, landing in a sticky goo on top of them. His throbbing cock head heaved up load after load of thick colt batter on Hector's member, smearing it in a white glistening frosting. The volume that his enormous balls could produce felt like a never ending torrent, and he gasped and moaned with every spasm his aching body sent forward. The flood of warm, virile seed that drenched Hector's member and lower body came only a fraction of a second before his own. Baring his upper lip and letting out a long, powerful whinny, Hector finally gave himself up as his orgasm burst its banks and his seed was finally ejaculated high in the air. A powerful torrent of cum was forced from his distended urethra and fell in a messy, off-white shower on his partner's chest and shaft. After what felt like minutes the flow finally weakened into spurts, and then died down.

Eventually he fell backwards, body spent, cock still twitching and spattering clear fluid. He had turned his and Hector's bellies into a gooey swamp of white, glistening semen, the two sources pooling in together and mingling, getting smeared on their heaving bodies.

The referee was livid, switching between grasping his forehead and throwing his arms in the air.

"WHERE IS THE PRIZE CUM? It's worth hundred gold pieces a spoonful, and you've made a MESS OUT OF IT!"

Hector scooped some of the cum on himself and flicked it at the referee lazily. "You are...", he croaked, "welcome to sort it out."

"I HAVE NEVER seen such unprofessionalism! I'll see to that you'll never compete in this league EVER AGAIN!" The small fox fumed with rage and the loss of his cut of the profits.

"Pipe it down", Achilles said wearily, "if we both lost then it means there's no prize cum."

"I admit losing to this big beefy stud", Hector said and kissed Achilles's snout affectionately.

"And I to him", the other stallion replied and hugged him.

"Out, OUT of my ring! Your contracts are invalidated! Nullified! You get NOTHING!" The referee threw his hands in the air and stormed off cursing and swearing before he would be brought to the brink of apoplexy by his anger.

The two stallions, spent but happy to be released from servitude, collapsed into a sweaty, glistening huddle as the crowd cheered and jeered lit by the red hues of the setting sun.