The Fight Club

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#56 of Shorts

When times get hard, even good men will do anything to get by.


This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this story are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are of legal and consenting age, likewise if you are reading this story you should be of legal age in your respective country.

All characters are my own creation, any resemblance to existing characters is purely coincidental and not intentional, please do not use them without permission. If you would like to use them in a story, please feel free to send me a PM either as Inja on SoFurry or TheRealInja on FA. As always I am open to new story ideas or situations with existing characters as well.

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The recession had hit Jamestown hard, a lot of businesses had closed their doors and those unlucky few that couldn't find work or afford to move to where the work was, were forced to do unspeakable things just to survive. While crime had increased, the majority of the down and out citizens still refused to stoop to those levels just to survive.

Jack dodged the fist of the large brown bull whom had been his former supervisor at the old steel mill before it closed down. Greg was a nice enough guy, but under the current climate, even the nicest of guys were willing to relax their morals to survive. The brawny Doberman ducked under a high punch and landed a few swift blows to Greg's ribs, making the bovine stumble back a few paces before being pushed back into the center of the makeshift ring by the crowd surrounding them.

The fights had started off simple enough, what little money that was left in town was used to gamble on illegal fights held in the old steel mill. So far there had been no deaths, but there had been a few close calls when tempers and desperation flared. Most of the older crowd was okay with the way things were being run, at least until those whom seemed to not have been touched by the recession began to join in on the action.

They weren't interested in seeing their possible future employees kill each other as that would just create a labor shortage once the town managed to climb out of the recession. No, instead the wealthy fat cats had a different plan in mind. They wanted to break the men of Jamestown, so when they were able to open their factories again, they would have a sufficiently cowed and subdued workforce they could easily maintain an iron grip over.

With how desperate the men were to support their families, the fat cats found it cost them surprisingly little to get the men to humiliate and degrade themselves just for a warm meal or a couple dollars to keep the banks at bay. The winners of the matches would "dominate" their opponent in more ways than one, simply for the fights benefactors' enjoyment. The loser would usually go home empty handed at the least; bloodied and beaten more often than not. Or if they were lucky enough, or unlucky enough depending on how they viewed it, they could still earn a few bucks by serving the wealthy in further degrading ways at private parties they liked to throw.

Jack's head snapped back as the bull caught him by surprise with a vicious uppercut, Greg was faster than his size implied. The Doberman stumbled back and fell against the crowd surrounding the ring, unlike Greg whom had been a good man before the recession and treated his men with respect and was admired for it, Jack had been a bit of a drinker and a less than personable one at that.

"Fuck my wife, will you?" A voice snarled into his ear as Jack felt someone grabbing his wrist and holding him back.

"You fucked my sister and knocked her up, asshole!" another angry voice hissed into his other ear as his other wrist was held back.

Jack growled and struggled against their grip, seeing Greg smirk and begin to stride over toward him. The Doberman was no small canine either, having worked many years in the steel mill, he was quite toned and strong. But then so had the two men that were holding him back now, one of whom was clearly feline as Jack felt claws digging deep into his wrist and drawing blood.

Jack was a bit of a player, he didn't try to be, at least that's what he tried to convinced himself of. He'd even gotten himself a wife and kid whom he was trying to support now by being in these godforsaken fights. But he was weak willed, so when the opportunities arose, he took them. He was a handsome mutt for sure, strong jawline, sparkling blue eyes and a deep soothing voice that made most women's panties wet. Throw in his toned physique and tall stature, he was a real panty dropper. At least when he wasn't drunk and belligerent, which was most of the time these days.

Jack's breath exploded from his lungs as Greg's large fist swung unimpeded into his unprotected diaphragm, then again at his exposed sides and right into his kidneys before he was finally let go. With pain flaring and gasping for breath, the Doberman stumbled around the outside of the ring. As he went he heard more and more threats and complaints about him. It seemed like the entire town knew he had been picked for tonight's fight and wanted their revenge. Barely taking a step before someone jabbed him in the ribs or tried to trip him up, Jack couldn't retreat to safety. Greg stood with an almost evil grin as he slowly turned and followed Jack's every move.

Jack's eyes looked over the bulls form, he was almost a good foot taller than the canine, and despite being a supervisor, Greg had worked the floor with his men. The bull was a stern believer in leading by example, he never requested one of his guys to do something he wasn't willing to do himself, which is why they all admired him so much. Greg, like Jack, was wearing nothing but his boxers, as decreed by the fat cats. They didn't want their men bringing in any hidden weapons or items that might give them an unfair advantage over their opponent, or possibly cause permanent damage to one another.

Unfortunately the lack of clothing would also reveal the hefty bulge hidden within the bull's boxers, shifting heavily with every step he took. Jack was no slouch either in that department, but if the rumors were true about Greg, he really didn't want to lose this fight. Not that he had much choice as the men around the ring were doing everything they could to help him lose; Jack finding himself suddenly shoved away from the outside ring just as someone kicked his left foot behind his right, just as he tried to step forward.

He saw it happening in slow motion as he stumbled forwards, arms raising as he tried to regain his balance, leaving himself wide open. Greg stepped forward and swung low, his fist pounding squarely into the canines belly and once more depriving him of breath. Jack doubled over as he clutched his stomach, turning just in time to see a large fist descend down to connect with his cheek before his world began to spin and he collapsed to the ground.

"One!" someone called out as Jack lay staring up at night sky, the stars visible through the broken windows of the factory roof; they seemed oddly bright and twinkly. Jack's mind was struggling to put coherent thoughts together, briefly forgetting where he was and what he was even doing.

"Two!" the voice came pounding again, along with a growing ache in his jaw as he started to return to reality, feeling a sudden sense of urgency to get up, but not yet sure why.

"Three!" the announcer yelled out as Jack rolled onto his side and then onto his hands and knees, his arms shaking as he tried to support himself before attempting to get back up and just collapsing down again.

"He's out! Greg wins!" the announcer yelled out, followed by much cheering from the crowed. Jack's vision was blurred and almost wavy as he frowned, trying to clear his head of the spinning sensation. Looking up from the shiny shoes appearing before him, his gaze rose up along the black and white pin striped pants and white shirt to the red tie with the gold pin initialed with R.R. Just above the pin was the smiling face of a large broad shouldered dragon, his obsidian scales almost as dark as the night sky above, his sharp teeth pearly white by comparison. Without saying a word, he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a small stack of bills to wave enticingly at Greg not far behind.

Surely Greg wouldn't go through with it, just like Jack, he too was a married man with kids. There's no way a standup guy like him would lower himself to degrading his opponent like this, just for a couple hundred bucks, Jack tried to convince himself. But sure enough, he felt his boxers being tugged down to expose his firm black and tan rear, his short docked tail trying to flip down uselessly in defense of his virgin behind.

Greg was absolutely that kind of guy, if it meant looking after his family, he'd do whatever it took, unfortunately for Jack. The Doberman found himself again being held down in place by unseen members of the crowd, all he could make out were their menacing grins as they watched with glee what was about to happen. At least Greg was still not a completely callous bastard, he would afford Jack the mercy of applying some Vaseline to his thick fingers before working them under the mutt's short tail, much to the disappointment of the crowd. Jack winced as Greg forced first one, then two thick fingers under his tail, rotating his wrist to work his fingers in deeper and around the tight clenching opening to get him ready for the main event.

"Ha! Jackie boy is popping wood!" Someone in the crowd remarked before laugher began to spread like wildfire. He couldn't help it, honest he couldn't! But Greg was working his thick fingers in and out of the canine's untrained rear and he kept on rubbing something inside him that made his body respond no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Sure enough, by the time he was taking three thick bull fingers up his ass, Jack's own rigid member was fully unsheathed and bouncing to the beat of his heart below, dripping little sticky droplets of his precum to the dirty factory floor.

With the bull's fingers finally withdrawing, Jack knew it was only a temporary relief. Things were only going to get much worse and soon too, even over the laughter of the crowd, somehow he could still hear Greg shuffle out of his own boxers behind without looking back. Jack growled as he felt the semi-hard warmth of something nudge under his tail, at least Greg wasn't completely into this as his cock was still somewhat soft. Not that it helped any, it actually would just draw his torture out more as Greg gripped about Jack's hips to begin grinding his length between the mutts firm cheeks to get himself stiff enough to claim his victory. Feeling another man's length grinding against his ass as it slowly got harder was a peculiar sort of humiliation he could've done without considering what he was about to go through.

Greg closed his eyes as he tried to imagine it was his wife kneeling before him and whom he was about to fuck. It was already hard enough with a crowd of former employees watching him, but the fact it was another man beneath him too was something he'd never thought he'd be doing in a million years. But times were tough and his family was out of options, thankfully most of his men still supported him and had subtly offered to help once they heard whom he'd be fighting. It was win win for most of the men here, they got to support their old boss while getting revenge on one of the most hated men in town.

"Nothing personal, Jack..." Greg leaned down to whisper to the canine just before he lined himself up and began to push into him. Jack yelped and whined as the bull's thick member ground against his resistant asshole, the slick Vaseline unfortunately helping him gain ground before slowly sinking into the tight clenching heat beyond. Jack struggled against the grip of the men holding him down, but it was useless. He couldn't move forward as they were blocking him in, behind him was just more thick bull cock working deeper into his guts.

"Not so fun being the one getting fucked, is it Jackie boy?" the feline holding his arm hissed, again digging his claws into the Doberman's forearm.

No, for once Jack had to agree with the other guys, it was not fun being fucked. Gritting his teeth and doing his best not to whimper or cry out, Jack shut his eyes tight as more and more of Greg's unfortunately true rumor sunk between his cheeks. The bull did unfortunately put most horses to shame in that department, his cock just felt like it went on and on, pretty soon Jack swore he could almost taste it from how deep Greg was inside him. If he couldn't feel Greg's grip about his hips, he'd swear blind the damned bull was shoving a fire extinguisher up under his tail.

Sadly for the pinned canine, the entry was only part of the problem, soon the bull began to withdraw and it made the mutt feel like his insides were being pulled back out along with Greg's cock. He didn't know which was worse, the entry or the withdraw; both of which he was beginning to feel in abundance as Greg started to fuck him slowly. Only once he felt the swaying bulls balls tap against the backs of his own did the Doberman realize he had finally taken Greg's full length. Even the crowd had fallen into a hushed silence as they watched with a mixture of amusement and awe. The large dragon stood motionless before Jack, grinning down at the canine as he was fucked by his former supervisor. A glowing neon blue tongue licking across his scaled lips as he quite clearly enjoyed the show before him.

Greg snorted and huffed behind and above Jack, his blunt nails digging into the canines hips as his own began to pick up the pace. As nice and tight as Jack's fuckhole was, he wanted this to be over even more than the canine, but he knew the dragon wouldn't pay up unless he finished inside the Doberman. Thankfully his wife never let him do this to her due to his size, but with his eyes closed and a clear vision of her in his mind, Greg was able to fool his cock into thinking he was finally getting to sodomize his loving wife. With a soft snort of his wife's name, Greg felt his balls rise and twitch before his hot sticky seed spilled inside the pinned canine. His hips an almost blur as he hammered through to the finish line, even earning a whimper from the proud mutt below, until finally his cock throbbed and pulsed with every thick rope of his cum filling Jack to the brim.

Again the dragon said nothing, merely nodded down at Greg before tossing him the stack of bills. Greg smiled weakly before leaning over Jack and whispering "Thanks, Jack..." as he slowly extracted his softening cock from under the canine's docked tail which immediately flipped down protectively. Jack remained kneeling on the dirty factory floor as the crowd followed after Greg, cheering his name and laughing at Jack's defeat, leaving the beaten dog kneeling in the dirt. Already the mutt could feel the embarrassing ooze of another man's cum starting to trickle from his aching behind.

"If you want to earn double what your friend did, swing by my place tomorrow night. I'm having a few friends over and we'd appreciate some...entertainment," the dragon spoke in a deep rumbling tone, grinning at the surprised looking Jack suddenly staring up at him.