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If you would have done the work, it wouldn't have come to this, Alan.

Alan hated to think that Coal, husky dog and tenured professor, was right about his failings. In more paranoid moments lying in bed, Alan suffered the idea that Professor Coal had singled him out, had tweaked his grades to make sure he needed to perform this decidedly extracurricular activity in order to pass.

The slender red fox huffed, gnawed his lip. Since awakening at seven AM sharp (pretend you have responsibilities and be up early Professor Coal had said in an icy tone), Alan had been plagued by thoughts concerning the day ahead. He was equally excited and afraid, just the way he had been before his first sexual encounter. In his anxious fervor, he went over and over everything. His apartment, spotless. His fridge, full of things Coal claimed to enjoy - mostly beer. Jerky in the pantry. Bag of bite-sized pretzels on the coffee table. Alan had spent most of his paycheck just getting ready to play host to his professor.

He looked out the window like a small child fearing the approach of a stranger, and not for the first time. Except this was different; he saw the husky approaching. His heart climbed up into his throat and made things feel very, very snug in there. For as much as Alan despised Professor Coal's attitude, the husky was an exceptionally attractive man - and Alan was a very gay fox. The husky's muscular frame often showed up to lectures in khakis and polo shirts which toed the delicate slob-snob line. Sometimes he came in to work a bit musky, as if his deodorant was inadequate. Alan never complained. Prior to this ultimatum - fuck or fail, as he saw it - he had thought about the husky on occasion, idly undressing the dog in his mind.

Alan peeked needlessly through the peephole. All he could see was the burly dog's breast covered by a university hoodie. The fox stepped back, exhaled slowly, opened the door and forced himself to smile.

"Hello, Professor," Alan had begun to say when Coal muscled his way inside. The dog stooped under the door's frame and stood noticeably hunched in the den, his ears scant inches away from the ceiling.

The fox had never realized how big Coal was (how small I am?) until now, having only seen the dog in cavernous lecture halls and walkways built to accommodate students and faculty of all sizes. In this pedestrian setting, the husky was a giant in a tiny land. Alan tried to guess at his height. Seven feet at least, he decided - the ceilings were only eight feet high.

"We're alone?" Coal tonelessly asked.

"Yes sir," Alan answered, shutting and bolting the door. "Did you, uh, want me to..." His paws fidgeted together. Coal studied him with frigid blue eyes. "Uh, undress?" the fox managed.

Coal shrugged. "Your place. Be naked if you want."

Anger, short-lived but intense, played across Alan's face like a bolt of lightning. Then he began to disrobe, exposing a body not quite girly, not quite athletic. His ribs didn't show but his belly was a smooth plane.

"There's Miller in the fridge, sir," said Alan as he pulled down his pants and briefs.

"Later. It's only nine in the morning, boy," said Coal with some admonishment. He perused the room. Being here made him feel like an adult at a child's tea party. He slipped out of his hoodie and dropped it on the floor.

Alan huffed. He looked up at Coal uncertainly, small penis hanging flaccid between his thighs. "Would you-? Do you want anything, sir?"

Coal tugged off his jeans, left on his boxers. He had only a hint of a smirk on his face when he sat on the couch, it being the only seat big enough to accommodate him. As he came to rest on its cream cushions, the underlying springs chimed a series of atonal twangs as they settled into new, lower positions. The wooden frame holding it all together creaked dangerously like an old tree in a hurricane. Alan winced at the noise.

"Same as in class, Alan. You talk too much. Too eager to please, not eager enough to work." Coal's voice had a note of vague disappointment in it. It reminded Alan far too much of his old man for comfort.

"Look, Professor-," Alan began, a beseeching whine in his voice.

The husky waved him off. "Hush, kid." Then he beckoned Alan closer. When the fox was near he clutched the boy around the hip, squeezed him. He eyed the fox up and down, paying no mind to any particular part of him, just drinking in the sum.

"Hm. Not bad. Gonna ride you," Coal thoughtfully said.

A dumb, relieved grin tugged at Alan's face. He looked like someone still in shock after learning he had won the lottery.

"What, ride me, like-? You powerbottom then?"

"Power-what?" Coal asked, and the wind was pulled from Alan's sails. "No, boy. Ride you." He stood up from the sofa and its springs wheezed back into shape, but the cushion remained bowed inward.

Seeing the sorry shape of his couch plus the dawning realization of what kind of ride Coal wanted caused Alan to splay back his ears. He looked up at the dog imploringly. "You're joking, right? You have to be joking."

Coal smiled charmingly. It was that same smile he put to use whenever one of his students asked if he was joking after he posited some unreasonable thought experiment. And Coal, of course, was never one to joke. He expected results, not excuses. He turned the fox around, held his shoulders, and said as Alan whipped his head back and forth in an attempt to look at Coal's eyes, "I'm going to ride you like one of those shitty little grocery store giddy-up rides you plug a quarter into. Guess I'll punish you if you drop me. Don't know what I'll do. But I suppose that's an incentive not to drop me, isn't it?"

"Professor Coal," Alan bleated, hoping the dog would laugh it off. How dumb are you, boy? Now bend over and spread those ass cheeks. He could have been plowed all day and night. That was how he spent his weekends anyway. But riding him like he was some cheap fiberglass toy - that was some sadism. The fox was loathe to admit that Coal was a creative fellow if this was how he whipped underperforming students. Anybody could core out an asshole but this was impressive. It made him respect Coal. It also made him hate the dog.

Coal slid a leg over the fox's shoulder. His height made mounting up easy. Soon the back of Alan's head was in Coal's clothed crotch, fat balls and dozy cock making for a humid pillow.

"I can't do this, I can't!" Alan whined. "I'm gonna hurt us both, please!"

"I'm not even resting any weight on you yet," said Coal, sighing. "Fine, then. I'll pick up my clothes and go on home. Enjoy your expulsion."

Tellingly, Coal didn't move. Alan noted the stillness. He groaned and said, "Oh, god, fine. You knew I'd do it. You knew it."

The husky smiled. The truth was much simpler; he was just a lazy dog enjoying one of his days off.

Coal hoisted up his legs and held onto the boy's ears as though they were reigns. Beneath him Alan began to tremble and buckle, cries coming out in strained warbles. Drawing breath was a chore. His arms struggled to hold the dog; he resembled a scrawny rendition of Atlas supporting the weight of the world.

"Move," said Coal without much enthusiasm - but he was grinning, mostly in his eyes.

"I-, I can't," whimpered Alan. The fox grimaced, cords standing out in his delicate neck. He took one step. Another. His legs trembled and wobbled. The bones in his spine popped harmlessly but in a noticeable crescendo. His vision doubled and trebled as he carried his professor one agonizing inch at a time. Towards the kitchen, off of the carpet, onto the tile.

Coal ducked under the entryway to the kitchen. He asked the fox, "Where are we going, boy?"

"I don't-," Alan wheezed. He tried to speak again and the words only came out as a huff of air. He attempted another step but this time he went down, a kneecap touching down, the other foot planted. "Please," he gasped.

The husky dismounted with a huff. "You never did care to put in the work."

The nude fox fell against his fridge, his back resting on its metal surface. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Coal slid down his boxers without ceremony. His thick, pink penis was monstrous, dangling in the fox's view and alluring his gay tastes even after such callous abuse. His scrotum was plump and black to match the rest of his coarse-furred body.

He grabbed the fox's arm and pulled him away from the fridge. Alan made a petite noise but was otherwise cooperative, and he laid across the cool tile, shallowly panting. His back ached in a dozen places. Suddenly he understood why his father - a construction worker since his teens - complained so much about slipped discs and bad knees.

The husky helped himself to one of the bottles of Miller. As he sipped from the frosty glass, he looked over Alan with little interest. The fox looked back diffidently.

"Bottles. Good. You do listen sometimes," Coal allowed. He stepped on the fox then, walking up onto his chest as calmly as stepping onto a welcome mat. Beneath him Alan erupted with activity, bucking uselessly and pawing helplessly. His fingers groped for Coal's legs, going through a truncated and out-of-order version of the stages of grief. The bargaining rubs, the angry clawing, eventually the dull resignation. He wheezed and bleated, frivolously expending the small amount of air left in his lungs as Coal's broad feet crushed him down.

"Can't-, ca-a-an't-," Alan wheezed, his eyes as wide as saucers, eyeballs threatening to pop from their sockets. He reminded Coal of one of those keychain toys - the kind you squeezed and watched its little eyes bulge like something out of a cartoon.

The husky's cock twitched at the sight of the young fox's suffocation. An intellectual man, Coal often tried to get at the root of why he enjoyed stepping on boys like Alan so much. It didn't matter if they were bitchy and spoiled like Alan or if they were eager to be trod upon. The end result was arousing to Coal. He began to masturbate, not particularly firmly or quickly. Just an idle tug for a momentary distraction. He sipped his beer. Rocked on his heels. Felt bone and cartilage crunching wetly underneath, not snapping but shifting. A rich tableau of pain played out across the fox's prettyboy face.

"Nothing like a cold bottle of beer. Those cans make it taste awful." He set the bottle down on the counter, looked at Alan around his penis, and smiled at the fox. "As for my earlier remark about it being only nine in the morning, well - five o'clock somewhere."

Please, mouthed Alan.

Coal tugged a few more times. He was nowhere near a climax. And, as much as he wanted to stay put, he knew the time it would take to get to one would probably kill the fox. So he stepped off of Alan, first the left foot, leaving the right on him a moment longer. Some life seeped back into the fox who first gasped, then cried out. He pawed at Coal's ankle, saying nonwords in an almost delirious state. When Coal took off the other foot Alan rolled onto his side and hugged his chest.

"When you're done, come in here," said Coal, plodding off into the den. Again he sat on the couch. Again it creaked in pain.

The pain Alan felt reminded him of the last time he had had the flu. Vomiting until he had nothing left to give, and then came the dry heaves. And after a few days of those, his throat and chest felt bruised in a way he had never experienced before. He had been unable to articulate to his parents how much it hurt. Sometimes he thought that kind of strangling agony was what a heart attack felt like. But gradually, bleeding off like the resistance in a TV tube, the pain began to fade into the background. He sat up slowly. The vertebrae in his back popped in another crescendo. As he stood, his left knee popped loudly, wetly, like the sound of a head of lettuce being torn in half. The fox whined and rubbed his kneecap. He was limping, favoring his left leg when he made it to the den.

Coal nodded at the fox, gestured at the television with the remote. "How do you get this damn thing working?"

The fox rubbed his lower back. "Uh, I use my Xbox, I don't have TV. I can-."

"Video games, no surprise there," the husky murmured. He turned off the blank television and dropped the remote on the cushion. "Get me another cold one, boy. And something to eat. Something light."

Alan nodded. He went into the kitchen and returned with another beer and a bag of teriyaki jerky. The husky tucked into both and Alan sat on the armrest of his sofa, watching Coal without looking too closely. That he still wanted the dog sexually made him feel shame in a way which was uncommon to him. Alan was used to doing deplorable things. Smelling, sucking, swallowing. Walking home from parties drunk with a sperm bank's worth of semen dribbling out of his asshole. Coal's disdain for him was unattractive - but the dog was still desirable.

Coal set aside the half-eaten bag of jerky. "Lemme finish my beer. Then I'll put you back to work."

"Sure," the fox muttered. "What-, um. What do you even weigh? It felt like I was trying to carry a fucking car."

The husky chuckled. He polished off his beer in a few gulps and belched. "Hell if I know. Last scale I bought about five years ago, thing maxed out at three-hundred. So let's just say I'm somewhere north of that." He patted the fox's thigh, winked, grinned. "Now get on the floor, kid."

"Just don't crush me," Alan huffed. "I'll do anything you want-."

"What I want is you to quit acting like you have room to bargain here. You don't. Lay on the floor, face up, and hush."

Alan felt the way he did when his own father laid out his shortcomings for him. Unlike his dad who he could brush off, maybe ply with a bit of guilt, Alan knew he had no sway over Coal. Pointedly avoiding the dog's gaze, Alan laid back in the middle of his living room floor. He looked straight ahead, right at the ceiling. But when the husky stepped closer, Alan turtled inward in a poor attempt to cover his sore chest. "Please," he whined.

"Shh," Coal said, and there was a very thin note of comfort in the shushing. He nudged away the fox's paws and forced them to his sides. With the boy uncovered, Coal sat down smoothly and gently, planting his thick ass on the fox's breast and his balls on the boy's muzzle. He felt a sharp burst of hot air rush across the underside of his sack. Then came the paws, pushing on his crotch and thighs, seeking purchase desperately.

"Struggling makes it worse, kid," Coal assured his student. He wriggled his bottom down, applying more of his weight. There was the kicker for Alan: the dog was still settling down, still getting heavier, taking the weight off his knees and putting it on his ass.

The dog fondled his cock. It was already hard again. Crushing the fox was good. Smothering him at the same time was better. He masturbated lazily the way he had when he stepped on the boy. Beneath his balls, the fox wheezed and whined. His thrashing weakened but the breathing continued, and as long as it continued even so lamely, Coal was content to be a lazy dog.

The tall black husky wriggled into Alan. His ass was big and soft but the weight was still devastating. He felt a few dull pops - the connective tissues on the breastplate and the ribs voicing their grievances under such an overwhelming weight. Alan's breathing tapered off into a thin, final wheeze and the dog lifted himself on his legs just enough that the boy began to draw breath again. Breath soiled by scrotal musk, but air all the same.

Coal's masturbation quickened. Now he felt like he might actually finish. He settled back down onto the fox, grinning, grumbling lewdly. Oh, sometimes he had the same urges as other men his age. Sometimes he bent over bitchy young layabouts like Alan and split them in half starting at the anus. But nothing could ever top this sublime pleasure, the knowledge that he was crushing something small and helpless. He said as he wriggled his ass down into Alan again, making the fox musky and hot, "Hold out 'til I cum and I'll let you have a break for an hour."

For a moment it seemed like that agreement would hold up. Then the fox, delirious with pain and oxygen deprivation, began to club at the floor with his fists. He beat on Coal's thighs. Pulled at his balls to no avail. The dog kept masturbating and grinding downward.

Alan's panic was intense. He had been bearhugged by friends and by rough gay acquaintances during anal sex with stallions, bulls, bears. That was usually pleasant. Alan liked to be squeezed. He found it weirdly satisfying to feel his bones pop under the influence of someone so much bigger and stronger. Underneath Professor Coal, he felt terror and agony. His lungs would not inflate. He felt so compressed that it seemed like even his heart was struggling to beat. His legs kicked at the floor, thudding dully on the carpet. His paws lifted the dog's balls but he still could not breathe. His throat made a reedy whistling sound as if being squeezed shut.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're hungry for air, aren't you?" Coal salaciously asked. He licked his lips and growled, feeling cruel exultation to match Alan's fear. "You breathe when I nut, that's how it works. That's it." His masturbation was quick now. His paw glided along his cock, moving smoothly on a layer of precum. And still he pushed his ass down. He lifted up an inch only to swiftly take it back, crush the fox down even harder like stomping on a beer can. The fox bleated a breathless wheeze and Coal answered it with a shuddering, but subdued moan. He grinned, closed his eyes, and came. Thick ropes of semen painted the white carpet. Alan, hidden underneath Coal's balls, was spared the mess.

Coal wriggled down as his afterglow settled in. Beneath him the fox had weakened. His attempts to tap out and kick the floor were conspicuous in their weakness. The husky pivoted on his ass and rolled off of Alan. For a moment the fox was still and Coal thought he would have to give CPR, believing a few compressions would revive the fox. But Alan sputtered and coughed on his own, and the fox rolled onto his side, hugging his chest and whining again. He faced away from Coal.

The husky patted the fox's shoulder and sighed. "You earned a break. Ten minutes or so, then we're goin' for a piggyback ride."

Alan looked over his shoulder. Hateful tears glinted in his eyes. "You said an hour," he wheezed.

"And you always said you'd actually start doing your assignments whenever I said you were slipping." Coal winked. "So I guess we're both full of shit, huh?" He studied the pissy expression on Alan's face. After a few moments he said, "I can leave. And you can wash out of college."

"I know," Alan huffed. "I-, just-, half an hour?"

"Twenty minutes," Coal counteroffered.

"Fine," the fox agreed. He sat up slowly. He realized the smell lingering in his nostrils was the husky's ballbag. He loved the smell.

As minutes in a break often did, Alan's twenty went by far too quickly to restore his composure. Deep bruises had begun to settle in and the pain was enormous. Had Alan been of a heavier build, he would have guessed he was having a heart attack. Dry heaves all over again.

"Think I'm gonna give your ribs a break," Coal remarked. He got up off the couch. By now the frame itself had been forced into a new bowed shape and it barely creaked. "On your paws and knees, Alan. Giddy-up."

From his place on the floor, where he had spent his break whining and writhing, Alan bleated, "Please, give me another couple of minutes."

The big dog scratched his balls, then his behind. He looked at the fox with mild interest - in fact well-hidden lust, perverse delight he rarely showed to anybody. He loved the subversion of what he did, how the fox had agreed to this meeting expecting to get his anus cored out, things foxes tended to enjoy. And, perhaps, one of the other professors would have done just that. Coal didn't believe laziness should be rewarded. He was quite happy to punish the fox and get his rocks off in the process.

"Roll over," said the dog lowly. He loomed over Alan, naked and musky and leering. Outside, the weather began to turn foul and the sunlit room darkened. He glanced at the lamp, then decided things were better dark. "Roll over, Alan."

Alan did so. Not without whining, but the obedience was the point. Coal squatted nearby, scrotum hanging low like a ripe fruit. If the fox had any nerve he would have taken a shot at Coal's balls but he didn't, and Coal was hardly surprised. He did not fear this cornered fox.

"Now up. Up on your all-fours," Coal said cheerfully, smiling as his orders were carried out. He looked over the taut figure of the young fox and he thought again about his peers, how they would have had Alan in the same position, oh yes, but for different, duller reasons. Anybody could fuck a fox but this was innovative; it was elegant.

Coal stood over Alan. He lowered himself, slowly squatting. First his scrotum rested on the middle of the boy's back. Then came his crotch as a whole, sweaty and hot. He stayed there, suspended, resting on Alan without subjecting him to any weight.

"We're going for a ride now, horsey," Coal chuckled. "Into the kitchen to get me a beer."

He let down some of his weight. Beneath him Alan shuddered, fingers and toes digging into the carpet. A little more weight, a few pounds at a time, like pouring water into a bowl - just a trickle so it wouldn't splash out.

"If I break my leg," Alan wheezed, "will you put me out of my misery?"

Coal laughed. "That's pretty clever. See, you can be a creative boy. Why'd you have so much trouble with my assignments?"

"It's not-, I was busy-," Alan tried to bullshit the husky as more and more weight rested on his back. His body bowed, spine popped, knees wobbled. And still more was coming down. Coal's feet were still on the floor. "Oh-, fuck, my back," he bleated.

The dog had settled almost fully onto Alan and the fox stayed promisingly erect. His breathing gained a hoarse, labored quality as if it took great, gasping lungfuls of air just to maintain this posture. "Too bad you don't have stirrups," Coal tutted, lifting his legs, "or a saddle, for that matter." With his legs lifted, he grabbed the fox's ears and said, "Got your reigns now. Giddy-up, horsey!"

Alan shook like an old car about to come apart. His pace was glacial - but it was progress. Inches were gained, his paws lifting barely, knees merely dragging on the carpet like skis, but moving so slowly that he did not carpet burn himself. He heard the thunder outside and was only vaguely aware of it - storms being something he normally loved to sit and watch, or listen to as he enjoyed a book or a video game. His back throbbed, a feeling he had never felt before, slipped and herniating discs an alien concept to him. He felt now as if his spine were made of the same flimsy wood as a Popsicle stick.

"Plea-a-ase," Alan whined on an exhale. He looked ahead - as Coal forced him to do so - and saw the kitchen perhaps six feet away. Was this how it felt to succumb to exhaustion? The fox guessed it was. He crept. Every raise of his paws, even the smallest gains, took strength he had never tapped into before. Each time his paws came down, the respective elbow would buckle, and his body would tilt that way like a table with an uneven leg.

"Please," Alan wheezed. Tears rolled down his cheeks. Coal guided him, the ear-reigns keeping him on target.

"Giddy-up, pony," Coal said, his smile tight and lewd. His penis stiffened slowly. Really, Coal was not interested in masturbating again. He had begun to dip into baser, gayer thoughts; the mouth. Anal sex rarely interested him, but the mouth was fun. Restricting air and getting off in the same motions. But later, later. First was the world's slowest pony ride. He wobbled on his ass in lieu of spurring the fox. "Faster, Alan! Gonna die of thirst before you get me there."

Alan wailed miserably as he crossed the threshold into the kitchen. It was remarkable that the tile felt no different than the carpet did. His palms and his knees were going numb but the ache still resonated up his limbs and added to the powerful thud in his back. "Al-, almost-," the fox wheezed. He saw only the blur of his fridge, the big silver monolith signaling the end of his journey. "I can't," he bleated, and he wobbled beneath Coal. "Can't...!"

"Move it, we're almost there," Coal prodded. His erection was complete. He ignored it, but even without being touched, it dribbled precum on the fox's back.

But Alan was out of steam, and his limbs gave way simultaneously. His chest thudded into the tile and he gasped, crushed beneath Coal's ass again, thinking that this was it. Something was broken, he had probably punctured a lung, and now he would expire.

"Oh, really?" Coal scoffed. He got off the fox with a grunt. "My teeth snapped together when we hit the floor. I almost bit my tongue off."

"You-, you almost got hurt?" Alan asked, but he felt so weak, so flattened. He had no indignity left in him. He laid on the floor, wheezing and whining, his chest somehow even more bruised than it had been.

Coal twisted the cap off a beer and sipped it. As he stepped over Alan, the fox flinched, and Coal felt a small but pronounced rush of power at this. From the living room he called, "Get in here, kid. Show me how to watch TV, would you?"

Alan pulled himself off of the floor, and every aspect of his body language conveyed what a herculean task this was. He shook like a badly-tuned car. His breaths were shallow and frequently cut short by winces. He walked himself up to a standing position using the wall, then moved slowly into the living room. He looked balefully at Coal who stood before the couch, sipping his beer.

"Come on. I wanna watch TV. I don't do this video game shit."

"Right. Right, fine, yeah," Alan said, almost simpering with his words. At first he tried to show Coal how to stream shows on his Xbox, but the husky possessed a fatherly quality to him in that he didn't care about the specifics. He wanted the fox to do it for him.

Eventually Coal was watching a film he found agreeable (Bullitt, which Coal assured Alan had the best car chase ever put to film), and then he clapped a paw on the fox's head. He was a bit too firm, dusting the fox's brains, but he ruffled the boy between the ears and said, "Good work."

Alan allowed himself a wary smile. "Uh, thank you."

Coal finished off the beer and tossed the empty aside. It made Alan wince, made him think about beer in the carpet and ants as a result. Coal kept the fox's attention when he said, "Your couch is uncomfortable as all hell." He grabbed the fox's arm and pulled him over. Then he pushed Alan down, made him sit in front of the couch, and then he stood over the boy. His scrotum, which was sweaty and smelled of male musk, hung familiarly before Alan's muzzle and the fox enjoyed this moment in spite of himself. Coal was still a handsome dog.

Any pleasure and the anticipation of possible delights were dashed when Coal sat down. The husky was gentle about doing so - even Coal, for all he enjoyed the fox's misery, was above outright snapping somebody's neck with his ass. His ass crack, which was hot and a bit sweaty, engulfed the fox's long, narrow snout and his weight forced the boy's head against the wallowed-out cushion.

Alan's paws shot out and clapped onto Coal's ass, digging into the coarse fur and pushing with wild, fearful strength but gravity was on the dog's side. He added a little muscle to the equation, pushing down to resist the fox's struggling arms. The powerful rush of adrenaline only did so much for Alan; Coal's behind mashed him against the couch, bending his head back at an angle which was profoundly uncomfortable though not fatal. He whined, bucked, and breathed in the musk of Coal's ass with hatred and a little pleasure too.

The volume on the TV was a little too low for Coal's taste. His ears were good, but not as good as they'd been when he was Alan's age. Having the fox whimpering and snorting under his ass polluted the soundscape even more than the rain did. He fumbled with the sleek, modern TV remote, muttering under his breath, "Where's the damn volume?" Eventually he found the button.

For a while the husky sat hunched forward as though particularly engrossed in the film (good as ever, but his thoughts were elsewhere; hard to take a movie seriously with some sissy's nose against your asshole). He helped himself to a bag of pretzels left thoughtfully on the table and turned the sound up a couple more notches to make up for the crunching in his mouth. Alan's whining was barely audible.

Coal dared to lean back, doing so until his shoulder blades touched the backrest. Underneath him Alan squirmed. Soft fox paws felt along his flanks and hips as if searching for a hidden catch somewhere. Coal, bag of pretzels occupying one paw, grabbed one of the fox's mitts and placed it on his penis. Flaccid but with the potential to stir, it throbbed dully in the boy's palm. Alan began to squeeze and stroke with resigned slowness, and he did so even before Coal said, "Fluff me up, boy."

Alan breathed through his nose for reasons both pragmatic and slutty. Underneath Coal, there simply wasn't enough air to breathe through his mouth. Secondly, and to be expected of a fox, he liked what he was smelling. It was his face that didn't like it, his neck, his shoulders. The husky's dadbod ass was a prize and Alan would have snacked and sniffed gladly if the dog flopped on his gut and hiked up his tail. But Alan was no chair; facesitting was decidedly not his kink. That was for bigger, more stout queers than him. Holding up Coal's ass with his nose was easier than explaining to his old man that his tuition had been a waste.

The dog shifted in his seat. His anus winked against the fox's nostrils. Below the TV screen he saw his penis in soft black paws, being tugged and squeezed as it rose through the varying stages of erection: quarter-mast, half-mast, three quarters-mast. Full-mast was just around the corner and already the burly husky was thinking of what to do with it. He shoveled a few more pretzels into his mouth - they were the bite-sized crispy ones plastered with big grains of salt - and watched his movie with inattentive eyes. Possibilities, possibilities. Bend the fox over, cram him so hard his asshole would never close all the way again? Definitely a consideration. Boy would like it too much, though. Punishment - not a reward. So what didn't the fox like?

Well, Coal thought, munching a few more pretzels and then licking his dry jowls, the boy doesn't like smothering, I can tell you that much.

Smothering, suffocating, choking, gagging - all synonyms if you looked at it the right way, thought Coal, beginning to grin. So he was going to fuck the fox, of that there was no doubt, but probably not the way the boy wanted. Or maybe he would enjoy having a cock crammed down his throat so hard that his breath would stink like crotch for a week; it was possible with these girly queers, especially the foxes. Fucking him in the throat was a safer bet as a punishment than ruining his asshole. Coal knew the fox would love that to no end.

But let's be honest here, you old dog, thought Coal, eating more pretzels and wishing he had another cold one to nurse - damn salty pretzels were making his jowls chap. Main reason you don't want to fuck the kid's ass is it's just too much work. Gotta bend him over, lube him up, lube yourself up... mouth's pre-lubed. Just get it hard and feed him.

Fair, Coal thought, smiling. He could be a lazy lover, if lover was ever the right word to apply. He ground his wide dad ass down on Alan's face. The fox whined, huffed. Eager vulpine nostrils flared against the husky's asshole like smooching lips might. The fox's paws jerked him off, nice and steady. Coal supposed he could have just stayed on the boy's face and let himself be finished off like this - but jerking off twice in a row was boring even by Coal's standards.

"Let go now," Coal said, a minor fondness in his words. Coal didn't hate the fox by any means; he just didn't like that the kid was pissing away a good education so he could get his asshole gaped and maybe get a head start on cirrhosis of the liver. But that was hard to articulate to an idiot fox like Alan, and the fact was Coal had dealt with enough entitled kids like him to have run mostly out of fucks to give.

The dog pulled up from Alan's face and the fox gasped as clean, cool air met his sore nose. He whined, "Oh my god, don't sit on me anymore. Please."

"You don't make a good cushion, don't worry," Coal chuckled. He disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a freshly-opened bottle of beer. His erect cock waggled in front of him, dribbling precum on the floor. To the fox it was both imposing and exciting like a thunderstorm. The dog had a few long, satisfying sips of the bitter beer, and then he said to Alan offhandedly, "Gonna fuck you now."

Immediately, and as predictable as a sunrise, Alan's ears perked. His miserable face took on shades of excitement - tentative but eager. "You-, really? Oh, man. Yeah. Yes sir." He started to get up, body shaking and aching but asshole eager, tail already flagging high. "You can-, yeah, you can fuck the daylights out of me."

Coal finished his beer off except for a bit of foam. He tossed it on the carpet and Alan paid it no mind. The fox was looking eagerly at Coal, holding himself up with the couch like it took all the strength in his arms. His eyes darted timidly between the dog's penis and eyes.

Coal came near and placed a friendly enough paw on the boy's shoulder. Alan grasped his penis and started to grin. The husky grinned back and squeezed Alan fondly. "What do you say we do this somewhere more comfortable? Bedroom?"

Alan was only too happy to oblige. He led Coal into the small bedroom and the dog believed that what he was seeing had been cleaned up just for his visit. No clothes on the floor, no bong on the nightstand, nothing to indicate that this bedroom served a twenty-one-year-old fox.

The fox, wincing, laid down on his bed - face-down, tail high, round ass laid bare for a ravishing. Coal was glad the bed was almost big enough for him; it was a queen-size bed, not exactly long enough, but Coal was used to his feet hanging off of mattresses. Not that he had any plans to actually get on the bed just yet. He stood beside the bed and said, "No, on your back."

"Ooh, you wanna look at me?" Alan asked, uttering a faggoty giggle. He rolled onto his back and skewered Coal with a filthy grin. His small penis was hard.

"Not really," Coal said. He grabbed Alan under the armpits and dragged him to the edge. For a moment Alan was placid, but when his head slipped over the edge of the mattress, he yelped and began to writhe. Coal held him still effortlessly. He brushed his cock against the boy's lips and said with a growl, "Open up. I'm gonna fuck ya."

"Bullshit!" Alan bleated.

His mouth was open enough for Coal and the dog pushed his cock inside, muffling the second syllable as if censoring the expletive. His cock ground against the smooth tongue and ribbed palate of the fox's maw. He growled, grinned, tail wagging, dick leaking. "Cows do it too, kid," Coal huffed. "They just don't brag about it."

Alan groaned. Whether it was the cock nudging against his throat or the dad joke, Coal never knew - or really cared. He pushed forward with his hips and forced his thick cock into the fox's throat. Alan gagged, whimpered. Tellingly, the fox was pretty good about it after the initial discomfort. He was still squirming and huffing, of course, but the gagging stopped. Coal looked past his paunch and watched, smiling smugly, as his cock carved its way into Alan's throat with a noticeable lump. That bulge never got old no matter how many mouths he fucked.

Coal's cock pushed deep, deep into Alan's throat. Rivulets of precum drizzled down the fox's throat like the soothing juice of a lozenge. Coal's balls - fat and musky, familiar things - mashed against the fox's nose and stifled his air again. Alan pawed at Coal's ass and hips and gut, but the dog was implacable, Alan a shrimpy sissy of a fox with no hope of stopping the dog.

"Can't say I'm surprised right now," said Coal, grunting the words. He eyed the fox's penis. "You still being hard. I know you like dick down your throat. Figure you like it less than up your butt, though."

The burly dog started to fuck the fox's mouth with a slow but rough rhythm. Alan's mouth was so small and tight; the teeth scraped against his cockflesh but the throat was perfectly snug and fuckable, and slick to boot. And then there was the fox huffing for air against his balls, warming them up a little more, not that his hot sack needed heating.

Coal held onto the fox's shoulders. He cooed to the boy, "Tell you what, boy. Tell you what. We'll be done after this. Figure you earned it after putting up with me all morning." He felt over the lump his cock made; Alan's silky fur was like something on a premium teddy bear, so cuddly was the fox. "Next time you fuck off, though, I'll just flunk you out. Don't think you can fuck your way out of it again."

Saliva shifted around inside Alan's maw and throat in great quantities. Coal's pumping cock began to pull runners of it out, sending it dribbling over the fox's upside-down snout like slime. It oozed over Coal's scrotum, clung to the fox's nostrils, made bubbles and foam as if the boy had gone rabid. Alan whined and struggled and gulped on Coal's penis, hoping for the dog to hurry up. All the while he despised himself for taking pleasure in this. As the final indignity, he started to masturbate. The dog said nothing to discourage him. Coal couldn't have been less interested, in fact.

The dog's frigid eyes drifted shut. He leaned over the fox, paws bracing on the bed. Hips gyrating, chest heaving, slobber-streaked balls smacking and grinding on the boy's flaring nostrils. Alan whined and gurgled, occasionally gagging, mostly keeping that under control. In a minor way, Coal was impressed by the boy's ability to swallow a cock. That, he imagined, came at the cost of the boy having the requisite knowledge to pass his exams. Better get used to fucking your way out of trouble, eh, Alan? Brush up on sword-swallowing while you can.

Coal sighed. He felt good beyond getting his dick mouthed; he had a fair buzz going on. The sound of rain was pleasant, made him want to read a book and snooze. He thought about Alan and how miserable he had been trying to play giddy-up, and that just about made him laugh. Okay, maybe I lied, kid. Maybe I'll go for one more ride before I pass you.

Later, though. His balls were getting tight, smothering Alan less and less. The fox was jerking off frantically. Its sound was a small wet smack. Coal's cock pushing in and jerking out was a big wet smack. It sounded as if the boy's throat was being plunged like a clogged drain. Coal, grimacing and putting in more effort than he usually did when it came to sex, hunkered down and really fucked the fox's mouth. The teeth scraped but the tongue was soft, so soft, and he loved those noises the fox made - the gagging and gurgling. Helpless sounds, sensual in a gross way.

Oh, fuck. Good mouth, kid. Really good mouth, nice throat. Worth a passing grade alone. Coal mashed his crotch against Alan's mouth, burying his meat, crushing the boy's nose under his balls. He put a knee up on the bed and he grunted, cumming, shooting hard. Fat ropes of thick husky spunk blasted down Alan's throat, pumped right into his stomach, coming on as hard and heavy as a garden hose for those first couple of bursts.

Coal panted and growled. Alan furiously masturbated, whimpering, struggling to breathe. He was mouthing Coal's crotch desperately in an attempt to suck air around the dog's cock. Enough was coming in over Coal's balls for the fox to stay conscious but he felt the fear of air-hunger, and it made his cock so much stiffer.

"Good mouth," Coal murmured, and yawned. He draped himself over the fox, pinning his masturbating paw down. His cock flopped out of Alan's mouth and ground against the fox's cheek; semen clung to Alan's teeth and jowls like cream after a pie-in-the-face gag.

The fox whined, "No-! No, get off me! I'm so close!"

Coal smirked. He closed his eyes and feigned a big yawn. "Sorry, kid. Busting a nut like that makes me dozy. The rain and the beer isn't helping. Gonna just nap here for a little while."

"No!" Alan shrieked. "Get off! No!"

And Coal, just joking at first, actually did start to feel pretty dozy. He squirmed up onto the bed and had a nice siesta on top of the whining fox.

Alan passed Coal's class, and he never dared to cross Professor Coal again.