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"Call that a punch, you fuckin' chump?"

WHAP! Ace threw a hard, solid right cross, but to his surprise, the player on the receiving end of the blow didn't stagger to the ice in a pool of their own blood.

He couldn't remember the last time someone stood up to him in a fistfight, but he'd never crossed paths with Zech before: the hybrid not only took the punch in stride, but countered with a left hook of his own, nailing Ace right in the ribs.

"No, I call that a punch," Zech answered. "Guessing you know a lot more about hockey than you do about fighting...not that you seem to know much about either one."

Another pair of blows were traded, but the strong, burly pair of canines refused to go down, even when teammates were rushing over to break them apart.

Ace ignored everyone and everything else on the ice; he wasn't used to someone sticking around to finish up a fight, but with Zech, he actually had his hands full...and frustration with his opponent was quickly turning into admiration for a worthy foe.

"Don't worry about throwing insults around, big guy...you don't need to fire me up anymore than you already have!" Ace yelled, and with his exhale, he landed a solid uppercut to the torso.

Zech took the blow with a heavy oomf , but staying right in line, he dropped his elbow into the crown of Ace's skull; they were both dazed by the impressive exchange, and the fight was long past the point of acceptable brutality, even by hockey standards.

The fans were cheering so viciously that you'd think they were there to see a boxing match, and Ace and Zech had put on a show that was well worth the price of admission, but the coaches and referees were _finally_able to break through and separate the pair.

They knew they weren't going to the penalty box; they'd be ejected, but each man was able to walk off the ice with their heads held high, having defended their personal pride and the reputation of their team.

"You're going down if you ever cross me again, chump," Ace warned him. "You're lucky that I can't get to you right now! You're damn lucky!"

Letting himself be restrained by the referees, Zech kept his indomitable presence, grinning and crooking his finger at the furious husky. "Anytime, kiddo...anytime you wanna go another round, I'd be more than happy to kick your face in!"

The plan, of course, was for the pair to stay separated off the ice and wait for the game to end, but the teams were sharing one locker room, thanks to stadium maintenance...and no amount of penalties would stop them from starting round two in the privacy of the showers.

There was, however, another barrier that they didn't plan on running into.

**

Neither player wanted to admit it, but fighting was exhausting, especially after zipping around the ice and competing with all of the other players out there.

There was a momentary peace, albeit only that much, as they stripped down on either side of a row of lockers.

"You really think I'm gonna let you grab a shower?"

"I dare you to try and stop me, boy."

Ace punched the locker, sending a shockwave through the other side, but Zech wasn't fazed.

"Just imagine that on the side of your head. The second you close your eyes to shampoo-

"You aren't gonna do a damn thing," Zech interrupted him. "Like you'd really throw your whole career away like that? Come on, man."

Zech was cocksure that Ace would cool down given enough time, but his ears perked when he heard the husky stomping down the other side of the aisle. He was getting ready to come around, and finally, Zech had to treat him as a sincere threat.

He followed the sound of the footsteps and clenched his fist, quietly hoping he wouldn't have to use it...but when he reached the end, Ace was there, claws at the ready and fangs still streaked with the blood drawn before.

"My career? I'm not worried about that. I'm just worried about putting you in your place, and no one's gonna notice a couple more bumps on that big lug of yours," Ace warned him. "So unless you want your career to come to a very abrupt end, take a fucking step back."

Zech didn't budge.

Rivard, however, couldn't sit still in the face of such a tense situation.

"Are...a-are you guys really gonna fight right in front of me? Cause if you are, that's kind of a dream come true. Go on."

Sitting in a pile of extra, used equipment in the corner, a small, spry otter was watching the pair of bulky canines with wide eyes and a hint of drool at the corner of his lips: he'd been ogling them shamelessly, and after watching for so long, he finally felt bold enough to say something.

It was the biggest mistake he'd ever made, but the players would have him to thank for stopping the next exchange of blows from happening.

"What...what the fuck is this?" Ace lowered his claws and looked into the piles of jerseys, pads and jockstraps, finding that one was still hanging over Rivard's expression, leaving the musk of a crotch on his face. "The hell do you think you're doing in here, man?"

"Well, I...I j-

"Don't make any stupid excuses," Zech cautioned. "If you don't have a really fucking good reason to be in here, I'm getting security and having your ass banned from the premises."

When the pair of beefy, sweaty players were directing their ire at each other, Rivard didn't think he could feel any greater excitement. His cock was already tented in his jeans, but when their eyes turned on him and crushed him under the weight of their intensity, he felt precum dribbling from the tip, hidden by a prison of tight denim.

Somehow, he felt like they could see right through that barrier, if they wanted to. Athletes like those always came across as supernatural, and sitting in their presence, he felt his voice stolen by their combined, demanding gaze.

"I, uh...I don't...look, let's just say I wandered in here by accident, okay?"

"And you thought a pile of dirty laundry was the best place to hide? Why the hell wouldn't you just walk back out?" Ace demanded. "You some kind of sick, jock-sniffing pervert or something?"

He was going to lie, but feeling Zech backing Ace with a cold, harsh glare was going to chill the truth out of him, sooner or later.

Honesty is the best policy, right? He thought, hoping that this moment in his life was the very moment he'd retained that lesson for.

"So, I really did wander in by accident; mostly, anyway. I was hoping to catch a player for an autograph after the game, but there was no one blocking the door, s-so...I just walked in, and, well...w-what's cooler than having your own, game-worn jersey to take home with you?"

Zech was the first one to approach him: Rivard didn't budge an inch as the towering coywolf lifted his foot and pressed the pads of his toes into the jockstrap on the otter's muzzle.

"Having the jockstrap that goes along with the jersey, apparently," he pointed out. "I'm just gonna go out on a limb and assume that it wasn't an accident that this was drooped over your nose..."

If he'd popped his head out after he was discovered, Rivard might have been able to claim that it just fell on him by happenstance, but the placement of the crotch was perfectly lined up with his nose and his lips, intoxicating him with the musk of lesser players.

Now that a pair of stars were standing before him, he was silently hoping to get more than a sample of what their bodies could offer, but there was still a hint of disappointment in Zech's eyes; he couldn't be sure that the hybrid approved of his excuses, but at the heart of it, that's all that they were.

Rivard hadn't just betrayed the trust of the players: he'd broken the law in the process.

"Look, y-you guys don't want to report me. Trust me, I...I'm your biggest fan?"

Ace rolled his eyes. "Heard that one before a few thousand times," he countered. "You're gonna have to come up with something substantial if you want to keep me from ratting you out."

Zech wasn't planning on blackmailing the nervous otter, but when his eyes finally did catch the sight of a tented erection between Rivard's legs, he cast a small look back to Ace and beckoned him closer, knowing a bit of the husky's promiscuous reputation.

"I think he's got something much more substantial to give us than an excuse, but I dunno that he'd be willing, if we gave him the choice."

Lifting a paw and pressing it right into the stiffened tip of the cock, Ace pushed down hard on the spot, forcing Rivard to wince in growing discomfort. "If you're thinking what I'm thinking...I'm pretty sure we're not gonna give him a choice in the first place."

Rivard had jail time to worry about if he was arrested for trespassing, but Zech and Ace could see their entire lives ruined if such a scandal got out.

The security detail had already allowed one fan into the locker room undetected, but then again...

"Even if someone walked in and saw what was happening, who would believe it?" Zech suggested. "I was thinking maybe we could let him walk out, but honestly, I've still got a lot of frustration to work out..."

"Don't let this go to your head, but I'm pretty sure you'll break his sorry ass in half if you actually let that aggression out on him," Ace theorized. "But I'm gonna break him first, so...I guess you can play with the pieces when I'm done."

"Fuck that noise," Zech argued. "You and I are only on a truce until we're done with him, but I'm not waiting for a turn."

Normally, Ace would have answered that kind of demand with another well-timed punch, but right then, he was more interested in seeing how far he could push the perverted otter than he was in fighting someone who'd already proven to be a worthy foe.

He was sure they'd meet up on the ice again before the season was over, but a chance like this one could be once in a lifetime; he didn't dare pass it up.

" Fine ," he barked. "But I'm taking his mouth...it's probably tighter than his ass, anyway."

They were compromising rather well for a pair of men who were ready to brawl only moments before.

"Uh, y-you guys...you do know I'm still right here, right? I can hear everything you're saying about me?"

Zech lifted his paw from the otter's face and took the jockstrap away with his claws, revealing the full, nervous expression and the wild head of green hair the otter was sporting. "What's your point?" the hybrid asked, his glare condescending and bitterly cold. "You didn't respect us, or our privacy...so what makes you think we'll be respecting you at all?"

Rivard wanted to keep an inward smile from creeping over his lips, but he couldn't contain his reaction, seeing the pair of canines bearing down on him.

His toes curled just to have their warmth so close to his body, but that was where the warm and fuzzy feelings came to an end: there was nothing gentle or comforting about the way that Ace lifted him out of the dirty jerseys and slammed him down on the bench nearby.

"Like we'd honestly turn you over to security...those pussies would go easy on someone like you...might even feel a little sorry for you," Ace claimed. "You want to know what it's like to hang with the enforcers? I'd be more than happy to give you the full experience..."

"Don't y-you mean the full 'fan' experience?"

" No."

Zech was famous in his own right: he was an incredibly talented player, and he'd never backed down from a fight, no matter who he ended up bumping into.

As an enforcer, however, Ace was unequalled in reputation, and he'd more players to the hospital than he could properly remember...but Rivard could remember almost every single one of them, and those were thick, burly men, accustomed to taking a beating for a living.

In Ace's grasp, he felt even smaller than his petite form already was. The grip alone stole Rivard's breath away, causing the smallest, pitiful whimper to escape his lips when his back smacked against the bench.

He couldn't draw a proper breath, and his eyes shrunk as he accepted the reality of his situation.

"Of course he's not a fan," Zech suggested. "Someone like this would be our biggest fan, but...there's another name for those, you know."

While Ace loomed over the otter and kept him pinned, wrinkling the tearing the edges of his shirt with sharp, gleeful claws, Zech was fetching something else from the locker room, thinking it would be the perfect thing to get Rivard into the right mindset.

The otter didn't need any further encouraging, but the thin, flimsy pleat of a skirt and the narrow top of a cheerleader's outfit would emasculate him even further...and already, he was embarrassed to the moon and back to be caught with a jock on his face.

"You know, we've gotta send him out of here wearing that," Ace agreed. "But first, we've gotta help him break it in, don't we? Won't be needing this anymore."

Rivard couldn't draw enough air to protest. His shirt was torn asunder by the powerful grip of the husky; the tatters would leave plenty of evidence of the struggle that occurred, but no one in the bunch was operating with logic, anymore.

Everyone was moving on pure desire: for Rivard, that meant not moving at all and loving the pressure of thick, heavy paws against his body, but for Ace, it meant redefining fear for the otter.

For Zech, it was just about enjoying himself, and scoring in the locker room if he wasn't allowed to do it on the ice.

"You guys...y-you aren't actually gonna-

Ace grabbed his muzzle and clenched his digits around it. "Put the fucking skirt on, pussy."

Rivard sucked in a thick, full gasp when Ace finally pulled back from his chest. He was only starting to accept that he'd gotten in over his head at that moment, and when panic kicked in, he tried leaping up from the bench, only to run headlong into Zech's abdomen.

He would have fallen back to the floor, but instead, he found himself slammed into the lockers, pinned in a corner by the massive hybrid. Ace was already yanking his jeans, but he never bothered unbuttoning them or unclasping the belt; the extra, added force left Rivard to feel like he was being stretched out, and the full, throbbing length of his cock was yanked down by his own waistline as the pants finally came off.

His body was still squirming, his legs kicking and his lungs heaving as he gasped for air...but he was stripped naked, left with no choice but to embrace the cheerleader's outfit if he wanted a sense of modesty.

The lack of panties, of course, would keep everything important exposed. He knew he wouldn't be able to push it down enough to cover up his erection, but the enticing length wasn't what had captured the attention of the canines.

"You sure you still want his mouth? Looks like his ass is ripe for the taking," Zech pointed out, seeing the naked otter in his fully glory for the first time. "Tight little thing, too...not a lot of cushion back here, but that's good...I want him to feel it when I smack his ass."

There was something to be said for the technique required to make a satisfying sound when slapping someone on the ass: Zech was plenty capable of doing that, but he wasn't there for the technique.

He was there to make sure Rivard would never sneak into the locker room again, though he wasn't opposed to a future interlude with the otter...he had just enough wherewithal left to realize that he couldn't come completely unchained in a public place like that.

What he could do, however, was force the outfit onto Rivard's head and push it down his resisting body, until his arms were being pushed through the holes near the top, and the skirt was flowing just at the top of his thigh, pushed up by the dripping tip of his cock.

"Isn't he just precious?" Zech teased, seeing how well the small, tight uniform actually clung to Rivard's bodice and framed up his slender torso. "Looks like he's ready to cheer us on in whatever we do, Ace..."

"Emphasis on whatever," Ace noted. "But that's the cost of breaking and entering...and if he's not ready to pay the price, he shouldn't have written the damn check in the first place, should he?"

Zech nodded his agreement.

Rivard, silent and trembling, could only gulp as the canines stood above him once more, keeping him trapped in a corner, with no choice but to embrace his fate at whatever pace it came.

The fear in his eyes, the quiver of his digits and the flattening of his tail, however, were all betrayed by the fact that his cock was spitting so much clear, messy fluid that it was staining the front of the skirt; he couldn't recall the last time he was so aroused, and he wasn't sure if he'd be getting any relief before the night was over.

Incidentally, that was even more of a turn-on.

"Sounds like you're taking the whole 'enforcer' thing a little too far, Ace," Zech pointed out, but he was smirking all the while. "Not that I'm gonna stop you...or that he can stop you."

"And yet, he's fucking loving it, isn't he?"

Ace gripped the whole package in his paw, holding the orbs in Rivard's sack and pushing them up toward the stiffened flesh of his cock. His grip was too tight, but that discomfort was just what the otter was after, much to the husky's surprise.

As it was, Ace was already pushing the envelope, but he was only at the front edge of it, right then; he didn't know if Rivard would make it all the way to the other side.

"Probably is," Zech agreed. "Not that I thought you'd care..."

"Trust me, I don't."

"Then how about you stop playing with his dick and help me bend him over?"

Ace and Zech were still in varied states of undress, having cut the process of their postgame routines short for a fight that never came.

It wouldn't take them long to strip down, but they couldn't do much more until Rivard was in the right position; the otter was being given just enough time to decide if there was any point to his resistance any longer.

"You know, if we were on the ice, I'd be getting ready to slug you again...but there's this convenient little distraction between us, and I think he's gonna make a perfect little sponge for all this blind rage I'm feeling," Ace admitted.

"Do whatever you want to him after you help me pin him down."

"So impatient..."

Rivard felt like a total object, and he was treated with about that much care as the canines grabbed him by the arms and legs. He was literally tossed to the bench, skidding across the wood and coming down gracelessly, but even in his brief moment of freedom, he didn't dare try to escape.

Flat on his back and looking up at two of his favorite players, they could have asked him to do anything they wanted...but he had no idea how far they were willing to go, until Ace was straddling his muzzle, leaving his warm, heated sack right on the otter's muzzle.

"Says the guy who's already smothering the little shit," Zech groaned. "You didn't even give him fair warning before you started drowning him!"

"He didn't give us fair warning, did he?"

"...Good point."

Rivard's legs were trembling for such a long time that he'd unconsciously exhausted himself, but even at full strength, he wouldn't have a prayer in the world of stopping Zech from imparting his will on the smaller, slimmer body.

It was just that much easier for him as he stood on the other end of the bench, looking down at the captured cheerleader with an ankle in each paw and a tail flattened beneath his groin.

"You know, I'd still give you a chance to walk away right now," Zech claimed, "If you only said the word...I'd let your legs go, hand you back your pants and send you on your way, if you'd only just admit that you weren't such a little slut; that you didn't want this as much as you clearly do."

Rivard seemed ready to protest, but the full, musky orbs of the husky were still blocking his maw and keeping him from saying anything. He could barely breathe, but each desperate gasp of air that he pulled was tainted with the spicy, warm scent of the canine's most intimate bodice.

He was drunk with lust before he even realized it, and his tongue spelled out that greed as he licked the base of Ace's sack.

"I don't recall telling you that you'd earned the right to taste me, boy."

A paw slammed around Rivard's neck, keeping him from going any further. His tongue was still pressed firmly to the base of the pliable flesh, bouncing back and forth between the supple orbs inside, but he wasn't sure he could retreat at all, tight as Ace was holding his throat.

"Well, don't stop now ," he shifted gears, keeping Rivard from getting settled. "You've already gone this far...you damn well better keep going if you're gonna fire me up like that!"

Watching Ace and his unusual approach, Zech snickered with muted appreciation, but he was going to go about things in a more traditional method.

His energy to burn was already of a sexual variety, and he couldn't quell any of that with Ace getting in the way: as long as the husky was occupied with nearly smothering the otter, he was fine to do whatever he wanted, starting with lifting the skirt...and cupping his paws under the slim curve of Rivard's ass.

"Just like I thought: ripe for the taking and quivering...do I detect anticipation, or are you still pretending to be nervous?" he taunted the helpless creature, knowing by now exactly why Rivard was in the locker room in the first place. "No; it's gotta be anticipation. Your little pucker just keeps clenching, like it's begging me to fuck it raw..."

Zech's words were meant to frighten Rivard more than anything, but they were enticing Ace to give up on Rivard's muzzle, at least, for the moment.

"...Make some room."

"What?"

"I know you're big and dumb-

"Watch it."

"But you're not deaf. Make some fucking room, would you?"

Rivard sucked in a violent gasp of air as Ace pulled himself away, seemingly denying himself the pleasure he was after...but the next pull of air from the otter was outright terrified when he realized what Ace was after.

He hadn't been properly warmed up. He was smaller than either one of the males, by a long shot, and yet...Zech was getting a look in his eyes that said he agreed with this idea.

"You know, we might end up splitting his little ass in half if we do that."

"You telling me you're not on board?"

"Now...don't go jumping to conclusions just yet," Zech murmured. He was effortless in picking Rivard up from the bench, but even before he was able to lift the mustelid to his chest and align his cock with the tight, eager entrance below, Ace was there, pushing on Rivard's upper back and pinning him between their large, thick bodies. "But you'd better make sure there's room in there for both of us."

The timeliest bottle of personal lubrication was sitting in Rivard's jean pocket, having fallen out when he was stripped from his outfit.

That was the only mercy he'd experience, as Ace drizzled his own shaft with a plentiful helping of the stuff...but no more preparations were made before the tip of a tapered, canine cock pushed its way past the meager resistance that Rivard could offer.

"Y-you know, you two...s-still haven't asked me-

"Shut your fucking mouth and be grateful you're not in jail," Ace growled at him, biting down ferociously at the back of his neck. His voice overwhelmed Rivard's, and the clench of his fangs silenced the smaller creature, after a brief, pitiful whimper...but there were plenty of other noises to be had, as Zech pushed the tip of his cock to the edge of the already stretching hole.

"You know damn well that this is better than you could have hoped this would go," Zech claimed, pushing his own canine tool into the seam and guiding the tip past the brutally fucked entrance. "I know your kind, little boy...hanging around locker rooms, hoping you might find a used jock to sniff or some big, angry player with some pent-up aggression...you're an open book to me."

Tiny pupils were shrinking that much more as Rivard tried to relax, but he didn't know that he'd be able to fast enough.

Of course, Zech was right about him, and in his wildest dreams, the otter never imagined a pair of players would be stuffing their cocks in his asshole at the same time; he was silently betting that nothing in his dreams would have held a stick to the absolute thrill of having his body ravaged and used to whatever ends they desired, but eyes rolled back as his mouth gaped, proving what the hybrid mentioned about him.

"For being an open book, he's awfully f-fucking tight," Ace noted, struggling to push his length in any further...though that wasn't slowing his attempts at all. "Looks like he's gonna take both of us whether he likes it or not, though. You're not such a softie after all, are you, Zech?"

"I thought you figured that out when I was pounding you , but he's a lot more fun to beat up on," the coywolf admitted. "And he t-takes it a lot better, too...you holding up okay, slut? It's only halfway in..."

Getting Rivard to open his maw a little wider was just a ploy: he tried to reply, but found a trio of digits stuffed in his maw once it opened wide enough. With his tongue pushed flat to the bottom of his mouth, drool spilled over the corners of his lips and down his cheeks, but even when he gagged, Zech didn't pull his fingertips away.

The same as his hips, he just kept thrusting them in and out of Rivard's mouth, emulating the depth of his cock with impressive accuracy.

"You should r-really get it all the way in there, Zech. You're missing out."

Ace pumped hard , burying the full flesh of his length as deep as it would reach. Even Zech could feel the tip of it as it nearly speared through the otter's stomach, but he was quick to join it with his own as excess lube helped the process along.

It was a harsh, brutal thrust that finally buried Zech within the levitating mustelid, but with his mouth stuffed, he could only gag around the sweaty digits and feel his insides being rearranged by a twin penetration, knowing that even one of them would have been a little too much for him to handle.

Zech had been telling the truth when he guessed that everything was going better than Rivard had ever hoped, but he was already in the most blissful amount of pain that he couldn't help worrying about how he'd feel the next day; he should have kept his focus on the present.

"Which side do you think he can stretch further? It feels like he's starting to tear a little bit..."

Ace was pumping just at the right time to be a second behind Zech, leaving the peak of each thrust to be the full girth of both cocks, rubbing against each other while they pushed clenching inner walls to new limits. The poor otter didn't know how much more of the act he could take, but to say that he wasn't enjoying every second of the act would have been an outright lie.

The sheer depth and weight of each powerful thrust...the heavy plap of swollen orbs against his backside and the inside of his thighs...the delicate breeze from his skirt as it was tossed by the force of each body crashing into his own...

...It was an intoxicating dream come to life, but it was becoming more of a dream than reality as the fingers stuffed in his throat pushed him to the brink of unconsciousness.

"He's gonna be j-just fine," Zech grunted, regretful to admit that he was enjoying the feeling of another cock against his own, rather than the tight, eager grip of Rivard's other inner wall. "Feel the way he's grabbing at us? I think he wants us even deeper inside..."

"You do know that there's nothing deeper than balls deep, right?"

"Pretty sure the knot would count."

Ace contemplated the possibility of trying to share such a tight space with another knotted tool. He wasn't opposed to it, but even the slightest jerk away from Rivard's body forced an ear-piercing whine from his mouth.

If they tried it, they might have an even bigger mess to explain to security.

"You really are brutal; admirable, truly," Ace claimed, "But if I'm gonna claim a hole, I'm gonna claim it."

"His mouth is all yours, then..."

Rivard couldn't decide if he was okay with someone stuffing his face with the same cock that was just buried in his asshole, but he should have known by then that he wouldn't be given a choice in the matter.

He could simply enjoy the ride from the pair of dominant canines, his mind blank and his body riddled with a pleasure that was so close to overwhelming him...but without any attention to his cock, he just couldn't quite achieve it, leaving the weight of his impending climax as yet another delicious ache in the depths of his tummy.

"Not that I needed your permission for it."

"Then get up there and take it ," Zech reiterated, "Before my fingers start to prune!"

Slipping out of the otter's tailhole easily, Ace took a half step back, letting Zech lower Rivard's body to the bench once more...but this time, the distraught cheerleader wasn't going to have a chance to get up again.

The pair of larger bodies would have been enough to keep him pinned, but the tatters of his clothes made perfect, makeshift ropes, long as the fabric had been ripped. As eager as Ace was to finally knot the otter's mouth and push him to his final edge, he took the time to pull his arms back and hold them at a terribly uncomfortable angle, before he tied them together under the wooden seat.

"A little something for the team?" Zech asked, having lowered with Rivard just right that he could keep fucking the poor creature the entire way through. "Something t-to...smooth over the b-bad blood?"

"I'm sure they're just as furious as we were," Ace thought aloud. "Not that they'll be able to do what we can do, but there's power in numbers, right?"

Rivard went into the act assuming that the pair of famous players would escort him out when they were done, but as he tugged his arms up, he was helpless to escape from the bench, even without a body trapping him there.

They're really gonna leave me like then when they're done...

His panicked thoughts became cloudy in an instant: Ace pushed the tip of his cock past the weak resistance of quivering lips and cupped a paw on the underside of his chin, keeping him from adjusting his head in the slightest.

Head hung back and his neck stretched out by his strange position, Rivard couldn't see the glorious sight that Ace did as he pushed his cock deeper and deeper, until the thick, impressive tool was visible as a bulge, creeping down his neck and stretching his very skin.

"Can't...f-fucking believe...his throat is even tighter ," Ace growled, delighted to feel a pleasure even greater than the internal clench of the otter's asshole. "At least, for a minute or t-two...it will be."

Coughing, gagging and sputtering weren't enough on Rivard's part to get Ace to slow down: nothing would be, and the cursory thrust that came first was misleading, slow and gently as it approached.

The next thrust came with such force that Rivard's head knocked against the edge of the bench, pushing him closer still to losing his consciousness.

Not one to be outdone, Zech saw the force being used and adjusted his stance, pumping vigorously into Rivard's asshole and leaving it gaped to such a point that the poor otter wouldn't be able to leave the bathroom, once he finally found solace again.

With no solace in sight, however...despair of the mostly heavenly kind was setting in, keeping his smaller cock in a constant state of drooling arousal.

"He's really starting to seize up back here," Zech murmured, quietly impressed that Rivard could still grasp internally, even when he was barely conscious enough to know that he was being fucked. "Think he's trying to cum, but he c-can't...a real shame, that."

"And what about you?" Ace asked, quietly trying to outlast his competition.

Zech knew it, but he didn't get the momentary break that Ace did. As their bodies crashed closer and closer together, compressing the lucky little pincushion between them, Ace was looking confident in himself, perhaps even more than his usual arrogance allowed.

The coywolf wasn't going to begrudge his own pleasure, however.

"Getting ready to stuff this little bitch to the brim...you might wanna watch out," he teased. "Pretty sure it's gonna come out the o-other side..."

"Well, we can't leave that kind of evidence, can we?"

The bulk of his knot was already revealing itself, but Ace was ready to hide it all over again as he stepped further into the bench, pushing the first inches of the lump right past Rivard's painfully stretched lips.

Neither one of them were sure if he was even conscious anymore, but as Zech followed suit and pounded the weight of his knot into a stretched, ruined asshole and unleashed a torrent of cum, they made it clear that they didn't much care if he was awake to enjoy the grand finale or not.

"Mnn...ulk...nnngh!"

Each sound was just loud enough to land on canine ears, but not enough for them to be sure if they were conscious grunts and groans, or the sound of his slick, eager throat shifting around to try and accept an impossibly huge knot.

Whatever the case was, Ace was groaning with deep, visceral pleasure, Zech was gritting his fangs with delight, and in the middle of it all, Rivard finally stopped quivering, save for the occasional twitch of his member.

"I think you might have actually drowned him, dude..."

Zech looked concerned for a moment, but the sight of seed spilling over and dripping down Rivard's cheeks told him that he was at least trying to swallow the load.

If all he had to take was the impressive, spurting strands of yield that were filling his throat, he might have had a chance, but Ace was grinning with a telltale sense of malice; he hadn't gotten all of the vinegar out of his system yet.

"Not yet, but not for a lack of trying...let's see if we can change that."

Dazed, half-lidded eyes tried to open wider when something salty poured into the mix, ushering the excess cum further into Rivard's gullet, but there was only one other thing that could have done the trick.

"...You're a fucking monster, Ace."

"Don't ever forget it."

Clenching his backside tight to add a little force to the stream, Ace pushed as much of his piss down the otter's throat as he could, eager to see how much of it would well up in the already stretched passage of his neck.

Swallowing as fast as he could wasn't enough to keep Rivard from springing a few leaks, as mingled gold and white trails spilled over his face and left him a proper mess. As his arms thrashed, hoping to push Ace away, he found his bondage remained intact, leaving him no choice but to squirm around on the bench as he narrowly avoided choking on the whole arrangement...

**

Hockey games didn't last forever, but Rivard knew he didn't have much time left to squirm out of the fabric that kept him tied to the bench.

He was so weakened by his earlier trials that he could hardly clench the muscles in his wrists, but no matter how hard he pulled, he couldn't gather enough strength to break the tattered fabric.

The sound of cotton straining and getting ready to tear was his only glimmer of hope, but the distant clack of ice skates on concrete was filling the other side of the room, sapping away the tiny shred of ambition he had left about him.

Cum and piss were drying into his fur, with a slow trickle of the same oozing out of his ruined tailhole.

Sweat burned the corner of his eyes, and his arms throbbed with effort.

He couldn't imagine taking one more man...much less thirty , but the same as it was before...what choice did he have?