Warming Up The First Half

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#1 of Remembering Your ABCs

Is a little coyote in over his head when he's called up for a good time?

Man, this one has a field day of kinks in it, or it at least feels that way. This is part one of at least a two part series, so I'd appreciate any feedback! Otherwise, please enjoy and thank you for reading!


Brady Trager.

I stared at the name displayed on my buzzing phone. Nothing good would come from answering his call. Never did with Brady. I really should've left it to voicemail, if I knew what was good for me. Yeah, just let ring through. Ignore it. That's all I had to do.

I push the accept button on the keypad and hold the phone to my ear. "What's up?"

"Diiiip! How's it hangin' bud?"

"Cut the shit Brady, what do you want?" I say, knowing well enough he wasn't calling me for a little chat. He wanted something, as he always did: he wanted me.

A chorus of laughter rang out--several of his jock friends, by my guess--followed by feeble attempts from Brady to quiet their rowdiness. "Come on Dip, why do you gotta be such a drag! Can't a friend hit up another friend just to catch up?"

"Yeah, you _could_do that, if I were your friend. This is ABC, isn't it?" I heard some questioning murmurs about what I'd meant in the background, and Brady must've tilted the phone away because his voice became distant.

ABC, another booty call, was a term I'd shared with Brady when he and I'd been going steady with one another a year back. Cause that's what it had been to him, jokingly said at first when we'd hook up, until I realized that was all I really was, another booty call.

I heard some shuffling and the loud jeers slowly faded into dull noise, going completely silent when I heard the audible shut of a door. "Hey man, what's the big deal?" Brady said, agitation clearly on his tongue, "I thought we were cool, the past is the past--"

"No, it sure as fuck is not, Brady!"

"What the hell did I do wrong?"

"You used me! You used my feelings for you!"

"You knew exactly what our relationship was, Dip!" Brady was getting heated now, barely containing himself to a whisper so he wouldn't be overheard. "Look, I'm sorry you caught feelings for me, but I never steered you wrong. I enjoyed our flings, and I know you did too--that's all they were, though. Flings, nothing more."

I wanted to continue arguing so badly, I didn't mind that I was souring his mood, but my words were deflated with what he said, because he was being truthful. Brady might've been a big dope, but he always was straight with me, and now was no different.

I'd told myself, over and over again, that it wasn't on him that I'd been hurt. It was me. I'd caught feelings where I shouldn't have, and he'd warned me to not act on those feelings, but I'd been a thickskulled idiot. I pressed him too far. I remember how surprised I'd been when he pushed me away, as if I didn't know that would definitely happen. All the hurt I'd felt from being rejected was not his fault, so why do I keep having the urge to pin it on him?

"...Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm here... You haven't told me what you want."

Now it was his turn to pause before answering. "Well--this might be ABC."

"Of course it is."

"If you're not up for it, just let me know."

"...Go on."

"There's the Dippy I remember!" Brady said, and I could imagine him fist pumping the air on the other side of our call. "So, I've got some friends over, and we were looking for someone to have a good time with, and so after a few back outs, I might've suggested you--mostly as a joke, cause I thought they'd immediately shut me up, ya know? But they didn't! They asked a few questions about you, and I might've talked you up a bit..."

"What'd you say?"

"Oh, just bragged about a few of your skills, and maybe mentioned some of your kinks."

"Maybe?"

"...Possibly."

I inwardly groaned, "Awesome, just what I like: being offered up like a piece of meat to your buddies."

"Aww, I bet you're blushing at the thought!" Brady cooed.

"If by blushing you mean gagging, then you'd be right."

"Heh, I know when you're lying out your ass. Anyhow, the guys took the bait, and now here we are!"

Brady did know me better than I'd guessed; I was more than a little aroused at the idea of getting gangbanged by several dudes on the college football team, but I was still trying to think with the right head. Was this the smartest thing for me to do? Absolutely not. Did I have anything to lose? My dignity and not much else.

"So am I coming to your place or what?"

This time I swore I could hear the air whoosh by the microphone from him fist. "--We can be at your apartment in ten minutes, does that work?"

"Why my apartment?"

"To make it easier for you, of course! And because my place might be a bit trashed from a party last night."

"So you're gonna come over and trash my place instead?... Fuck. Fine, you can come over here. Please don't fist pump anymore."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," I said, ready to be done with our call. I'd caved into his request for ABC, like I'd always done when we were going steady. Time passed, but nothing changed. "Just get over here soon, okay?"

"You bet, see ya soon!"

I flipped my phone closed, sinking into my couch while I let what happened sink into my mind. I hadn't been around Brady all semester and a bit of time before then, not without him trying, so this was a bit out of nowhere--and even more bizarre when I'd just accepted an orgy with several other dudes that I knew nothing about. The more I thought about, the more I preferred if the couch would swallow me up whole. As I let the time tick by, I considered what I could do to prepare: clean up the apartment, clean up myself, turn off the lights and pretend like I wasn't home. I ended up choosing none of the above, continuing to lay on the couch and ponder my poor life choices while the minutes dragged by.

I felt the shaking of their combined weight on the second-floor balcony and heard the banter being shared between one another long before they were knocking on my door. Brady said something just quiet enough to where I couldn't make it out, but it was met with a giggling fit from his teammates. One thing was for certain, ten minutes was not enough time to prepare for what I saw standing outside my doorway. Holy shit were these guys big.

"Hello." I said, barely able to even utter that single word. I felt ridiculously small, completely out of place. One of them was tall enough that they'd need to duck under my doorframe! The others were built like trucks. Brady happened to be the more normal looking guy of the group, which suited his position as a running back, yet he still was head and shoulders above me.

"Dippy!" yelled Brady, wrapping me in a bear hug that picked me off my feet. "Long time no see from you, how ya been?"

"Oof--good, I guess," I wheezed, feeling my spine realign under his powerful grip. I was carried into my living room and, with my vision blocked by two pecs, only heard my door being closed after everyone had presumably stepped in.

"Nice place, huh guys?" Brady said, not lowering me just yet. "Told you he was a classy boy."

"Yeah, looks an apartment that a cute little wolf would live in," said another of the guys, though I was unable to pinpoint who.

"How is that little runt a wolf? I mean, look at Brady and Stan, now those are wolves. This little guy--" I feel the back of my head get poked by a finger, "he ain't a wolf."

"That's cause Quinn is wrong," Brady said, finally releasing me. "He's a coyote. Kinda looks like me, but smaller, thinner, see?" He pointed out my height difference to the other four guys, who I could now fully see in the light of my room, as my back was against his chest, my head only reaching nipple height.

"Ah, I gotcha," said a jaguar, their voice being the one who'd mistaken me as a wolf initially. "Yeah, he does look like you, if you'd lost some weight."

"Like any of you guys couldn't spare a few pounds off your gut," countered Brady, all the while ruffling my head fluff. I knew that was what he was trying to do. Get me all timid so he could show off his little boy toy. I smacked away his hand to put up a fight, which he obligingly removed from my head, but it didn't seem to help my case as the others chuckled at me.

It wasn't shocking to believe they were buying my tough-guy act. Each of them filled up the center of my room in the same way it would take a dozen of myself to do. They could only be adequately described as beefcakes when observed from up close.

The jaguar was the smallest of the newcomers, similar in physicality to Brady, maybe an inch or two taller. Just like other jaguars, his fur was a sleek black. Quite the look, at least in my opinion. He seemed a total softy, though, someone that'd want to cuddle their partner as much as anything.

Beside him was another wolf of charcoal gray fur, this one the tallest of the group, standing like a titan in my tiny apartment. He stood a little behind the rest, smiling along with the guys but seeming a quiet type, but even so didn't strike me as intimidating.

The stockiest dude was a tiger, and stocky didn't give the man enough credit; his neck was twice the width of my head! He was a hard cat to read: wearing a deadpan face, he almost seemed pissed off that he'd been brought here. I might've been wrong, but my guess was that it was all a bluff; some type of roughneck persona that only friends or closer could see past... or maybe he really was pissed off.

The last of them was a silver-scaled drake, matching Brady in height--minus the several inches of ivory horns sprouting out his head--but looking like an immovable object that break me before I ever toppled him. My mind immediately told me this was the one to look out for, the troublemaker. I had a hunch he was the one to call me out earlier about not being a wolf, he seemed that sort--a lot of cockiness, a little too much ego, someone who thought they ought to have whatever they want.

"So, uhm, how exactly are we doing this?" I ask Brady over my shoulder.

"Don't worry yourself, buddy. I think we should all relax a bit first, shouldn't we?" Brady says, placing his hand on the small of back and leading to stand in front of my couch. "Come on guys, let's kick up our feet for a bit, sound good?"

A few snickers were had by the others, but what about I wasn't sure. Three of them--the jaguar, tiger, and second wolf--scooted down a line between the sectional and coffee table before each plopping down on their asses, and boy did my couch groan at that. The wooden frame let out a painful shriek that fell upon purposefully deafened ears, another round of snickers shared among the group. That's why they'd chosen to come here: to poke fun at my tiny home before poking their dicks in my tiny rear.

The drake chose my favorite seat, a recliner set at the entrance of the living room. It didn't groan near as bad as my couch did, but the lounger was far too little for the lizard, his silver scales spilling out all sides. "A bit small for me..." the drake muttered, sure enough in the same condescending voice that had berated me earlier.

"I've been telling Dippy the same thing for a while now!" Brady stepped away from me and dropped down on the corner wedge of the sectional. "--but I suppose if it were sized right for us, it'd be too big for him. What can you do?"

It somehow managed to be more intimidating for them to all be sitting around me as they were now, watching me like prey--I suppose I was their dessert for the night. Brady led the group, peeling off each of his shoes and dropping his socked feet onto the coffee table.

I gulped at the wonderful sight. Brady was keen on my adoration of his feet, and that love had not faded over the past months. When Brady made no further movements besides leaning back into the sofa with a smile on his lips, the others began to do the same, and I could feel my body growing heated. Four more sets of paws were arranged across the coffee table's surface. The perfect display, an art gallery like no other, ready for my eyes--and nose--to drink in. A wave of nose-curling stink rolled out of their sneakers and hit me square in the face.

"The five of us just back from the gym earlier, so we're all tired and sweaty, hope the smell's not a bother," Brady said, his head still leaned back with his eyes closed. "You wouldn't know how that feels, Dip, being hot and dripping with sweat. You haven't done a real work out a day in your life."

I could only questionably stare at the wolf, who's eyes opened to meet mine. "You wouldn't mind helping us unwind, maybe with a foot massage?"

"Yeah--okay..." I said, already positioning myself in front of Brady's socked feet. I didn't mind their jokes, nor was I bothered any by their intimidating looks. They could push me around a little, because at the end of the day I had something they wanted, and they had what I wanted. Both parties will come away satisfied if they play nice, and I knew I had Brady's support. Anything got out of line, or if I wasn't comfortable with something, he'd shut it down for me. I'd missed that feeling.

I went for the first sock, but his leg pulled away from my reach. "Ah-ah, that's not how you always started when it's just us two. I told the guys you'd put on a show, so do it right, runt."

I rolled my eyes at Brady, but he knew how to push my buttons just right. His domineering attitude was something I'd also missed; being bossed around by him always made me melt. I had no difficulty yielding to his will, holding my weight against the table as I leaned forward and pressed my snout into his lowered paw.

The first sniff was always the most exhilarating, that initial blast of sensations. Their musk fogging up the apartment was still nothing compared to getting a deep lungful from the source. It was a fire in my chest and shiver up my spine. Something about being pushed below another man, smothered by their stench, it was indescribably perfect. It was where I belonged. Sometimes I had the urge to forever live on breaths tainted by his feet, gulping down mouthfuls of polluted oxygen, forgetting the taste of fresh air.

"Wow, you're really getting in there. Heh, it's been so long since we've done this, I wonder if you'd forgotten what I smelled like. Is it as wonderful as you remembered?"

"Yes, _so_nice..." I groaned, completely zoning out the four other giants in the room. I had no troubles losing myself in Brady's massive paws, significantly larger than the size of my head. I could only just touch the tips of my fingers together if I wrapped both hands around his sole; plenty of pads and fluff to obsess over.

"Don't forget your guests, Dip."

I didn't care about my guests. I had all I needed wrapped around my muzzle and traveling through my windpipe. I wanted Brady and only Brady. They were unwanted. But the wolf's demands were to be obeyed, even if not willingly. With an aggressive shove, my body was launched back, causing me to land flat on my ass. The room warped back into my vision, and I took in the four faces towering above me, each looking back with an insatiable hunger in their eyes. I crawled back onto my knees and reached for the next pair of paws in line.

The jaguar gently smooshed my face into the open space of his sole and curling toes, and I was at work again. Without the underlining attraction I had for Brady, I was not as hopeless to the musk-drunk cravings that came with each inhalation, but I was still enjoying the jaguar's sticky sweat caking my snout. The new smells I processed were enticing, subtle similarities and distinctions I was able to make between his and Brady's scents. This was my first time with someone besides Brady, so I'd never had the opportunity to compare like I could now.

"You know what, I forgot to introduce everyone!" Brady announced while I continued on with my busywork. "Not too late for that, though. The foot your face is stuck in belongs to Mike, he's our tight end. The other wolf is Chase, one of our wide receivers. Beside him is Mac--we like to call him Big Mac, he's obviously an offensive lineman. Lastly in your chair is Quinn, who's our team's best defensive linebacker. Don't forget to introduce yourself as well, Dip."

I call out a muffled hello through Mike's socks, amusing his buddies with my feeble attempt. Soon enough I was onto the next pair of soles, these belonging to the lanky wolf.

"Damn, he's an expert," Chase said, scrunching his digits on my nose, "I could get used to this. You single, runt?"

"Sorry Chase, he's taken by yours truly," Brady said, not even sounded offended with Chase's suggestion. I guess he didn't have any reason to be offended; he knew precisely where my loyalties lie.

"Hmm, bummer," muttered Chase, not stopping him from having his fun with me. His paws were unsurprisingly the largest, my head completely dwarfed by his lengthy sole. His smell was closer to the Jaguars than Brady's, which was an interesting observation that I didn't have an answer for. Nevertheless, there were unique flavors I could pick out of the wolf's musk. By the end of the night, I'd be able to tell them all apart while blindfolded, a funny thought while I was happily shoved into his socked paws.

"My turn," said Mac, his voice like rolling thunder. I was a bit nervous at how forceful the tiger might be, but was pleasantly surprised when his soles gently caressed my muzzle. Even better was the hand that started scratching my ear while I sucked in another breath. I totally hadn't pinned him down to be a gentle giant, but I was all for it. Though he was gentle, his smell was not. It was strong, very strong. Maybe that's why he was being easy on me: he was self-conscious about his stink. To his luck, there wasn't and need to be worried around me, and I showcased my enjoyment by going on the aggressive, cramming my snout into his toes.

"Come on, I've been waiting long enough." Two legs were wrapped around my waist, yanking me away from the tiger's soles. Quinn, the unsettling drake sitting in my recliner, was now staring down at me expectantly. "Down to the floor, runt."

I did as he asked, not interested in starting something with the hotshot. Once I'm in position, the drake wastes no time pressing his feet firmly in my face, and I'm forced to bathe in his stench. To his credit, he never forced down hard enough on my head to make it painful. Was being a cocky asshole his kink? I was all for it, so long as it didn't go any further than words.

The drake's smell was wholly different from the rest. While the others could be collectively summed as having a salty aroma, his was much more earthy and primal, a pungent odor that wrinkled even my experienced nose. Not that it was bad. I was just caught off guard a little. Once I got accustomed to his musk, I was amazed by how much I adored it, and if his socks were the appetizer, I was curious of how tasteful his entrée would be.

"You're a cute little bitch," said Quinn, each word a pleasured rumble in his throat. "How'd you train this cutie so well, Brady?"

"I hardly had to train him; Dippy is a diamond in the rough. He was destined for sniffing toes and getting fucked by a real man's cock."

He wasn't wrong. I was a depraved coyote with a plethora of fetishes in my toolbox, and humiliation was no exception, their words only elevating my horniness.

"Look at him, he's loving every second. Goddamn he's such a slut. Go on, slut, keep sniffing to your heart's desire, choke on my stink." The drake rubbed one foot across my cheek while the other poked at my crotch.

"Look at his prick poking through his pants, fucking adorable... hmm, what am I feeling?" I could do nothing to stop his toes from peeling back my shorts and underwear to reveal my privates. "Hah, he's caged!"

My ears couldn't be tighter against my skull as five hunks crowded around to see my tiny dick trapped inside a steel chastity cage. Brady chuckled above my head, having moved over to look as well.

"Looks like Dippy hasn't forgotten about me after all. That was a bit of my doing, seemed like the kinda bitch that'd love to be caged and under another man's control. Looks like I was right about that. How long since you last cummed outside your cage, runt?"

"...Two months."

"Damn, two months?" Brady said, his act breaking from my shocking answer.

"Fuck, I don't think I've been longer than a week ever since my balls dropped," said Quinn, getting some giggles out of his teammates. "No wonder your such a bitch, that's what happens when you don't use what you've got, you stop being a man."

"Exactly how I like him," Brady murred, "And that's exactly how he likes it, too. He doesn't want to use his prick. He doesn't want to be a man. He just wants to be someone's fucktoy, used and abused. Isn't that right, Dippy?"

The foot on my face was lifted away to allow me a response to my waiting audience. I simply nodded, unable to find my voice in such a vulnerable position. Brady smiled back, seeming genuinely happy from my dedication. "Well, if that's the case, I think we can keep you caged for the rest of the night. But the clothes gotta go."

They all watched me squirm out of my clothes so that my sand-yellow fur was on full display. Laying on the floor made the size difference seem even more outrageous, my blurred vision adding to the weird perspective. Brady turned my face to one side with a naked foot, his sock unknowingly removed while I'd been distracted. I wanted so much to get a sniff--or several, preferably--but he had my head pinned under his toes. "I can't get over how adorable you look, Dippy, with your cute little cage," he said, his head cocked to the side, a devilish smirk on his muzzle.

"I'm getting tired of waiting, Brady; when can we use the runt?" pestered Quinn.

"Relax dude--like I said, we're supposed to relax a bit first, shouldn't we? Give our pet some time to get familiar with everyone." Brady's arms wrapped around my armpits, causing me to squirm a bit from the ticklish sensation, and I was effortlessly lifted from the floor. The others noisily settled back into their seats while I was placed on the coffee table.

"Socks off boys, and throw them somewhere I won't smell them!" Everyone went to peel their socks off, my eyes darting around the room as I couldn't pick one to focus on.

"Wait! I've got a better idea: Dippy, over here."

I scooted to the edge of the coffee table in front of Brady. He picked up his socks, straightening them one atop the other, and dropped them in my hands. "You guys don't mind losing a pair of socks? We should leave a house-warming gift for our host--a token of appreciation, ya know?"

A rumble of laughter and approval resounded from his friends. I only stared down at Brady's socks, trying hard to conceal my love of the idea, but my wagging tail was an easy tell. I scooted down the line, each time collecting another pair of stinking athletic wear before moving to the next. They all wore the over-the-calf types--all the more for me to enjoy. The last pair were deposited in my arms by Quinn, and suddenly I was two short from a dozen of my favorite article of clothing. There were few things I wanted to do more than dive into the socks, to cuddle them endlessly for hours, their sweaty aromas pervading my wet dreams.

"Hop along runt," said Brady, interrupting my fantasies. "Go put them in your bedroom, so you always have something to remember this ABC."

I did hop along, feeling like a thief in the night carting away a priceless treasure. Their dirty laundry was in good hands, that was certain. Quick to reach my bedroom, I flung from I flung socks and underwear the chest drawer, wanting to give ample space for my precious cargo. Before I slid the drawer closed, I couldn't help a curious final sniff of the soiled footwear.

"Dip, get back in here, don't keep us waiting!"

Brady's yelling voice from the other room woke me from my trance. I guess a curious sniff had accidentally turned into losing myself for a minute. "Coming!" I yelled, slamming the drawer closed and dashing back to the living room. The living room TV was on, Brady casually flipping through channels, while the others chattered amongst themselves.

"Hey Dippy, you got ESPN on here?"

"Aren't the Pacers on tonight?" piped up Chase.

"Yeah, playing the Bulls tonight. Which channel, Dip?"

"Uhm..."

Brady shook his head, clicking through more channels. "Of course you wouldn't know, nerd. Haven't played a sport since high school, it figures that you'd never watch them either."

"Another reason why he's a bitch." Quinn pointed to the coffee table, "Back on the table, bitch."

I scrambled up on the table, my back to the TV, waiting on my knees for what would come next. Even upright, the guys on the couch could still see the screen over me. All their attention pretended to be on the channels being ran through, but I caught their stares more than a few times, mostly focused on my exposed crotch and the piece of metal dangling there.

"There we go!" Brady exclaimed, and I could now hear the game being played behind me. "Damn Dip, this plasma TV has a nice picture. Nice sound too. Ya know, when playoffs come up, we might have to come around more often, not that'd you mind."

Brady kicked up his feet, prompting his buddies to do the same, and suddenly my body was being surrounded by meaty soles. I turned left and right, scanning over the picturesque scene. I could already smell the collective wave of odors wafting from their toes. It was time to get to work, I supposed.

I tended to Brady's paws first, an easy choice that'd stroke his ego. He murmured his approval but didn't look my direction. All the jocks were truly focused on the game, each throwing a share of jeers and cheers into the mix. Only their feet paid any attention to me, shoving and prodding at my stooped body. I was especially aware of Quinn's toes nudging my caged genitals, sending jolts up my spine, his playful antics enough to force a moan from my throat.

"Quiet runt," Brady said when he heard the moan, pushing a big toe into my mouth to shut me up. So I stayed quiet and obedient, sucking on his toes as well as the others, each getting their fair share of pleasuring from my tongue. I was receiving my own kind of pleasure, too. Every lick painted my tongue in their sweat, and beneath that salty goodness was a complimentary taste to each of their scents. I'd already was accustomed to Brady's flavor, so I was keen to get a sample of the others, and they did not disappoint.

Mike had a tangy taste, the salt serving as a seasoning to his padded dish. Chase was similar to Brady, which I could only compare to corn chips, something I enjoyed greatly. The tiger was very salty, almost in an overpowering amount, yet I could still pick out the savory hints on his textured pads. Last but not least was the drake, whose spiced sweat was an exotic amalgamation on my tastebuds, causing me to linger on his pads so I could slurp every last drop into my mouth. Back and forth I went, crawling around to each pair of feet, trying to share my work equally between the men howling around me.

"That was a charge, come on!"

"Like you'd know what a charge is," said Brady to Chase, surprising me with one of his toes finding its way under my tail, circling around the puckered flesh. I leaned back into his touch, inviting him to continue his teasing of my asshole. But his fun with me had to be cut short; I needed to keep moving my around the table. I needed to coat every last little bit of their sweaty paws in my saliva.

A prod on my head pulled me away from my dutiful licking. "Half-time Dip," Brady said, pulling his legs off the table so he could stand. Had time gone by that quickly? "Got any snacks? The boys and I are getting a big hungry."

"No. Uhm, not really much that'd be easy to make, anyways," I said. Mentally running through the small amount of groceries in my fridge and pantry, there really wasn't a single thing I'd think they'd like. "Uhm, maybe I could order something--"

"Oh, how about pizza!" Mac said, leaning up from the couch, causing it to squeak under his weight. I questioned just how many of me would make up one of him.

Brady nodded at Mac's suggestion. "Yeah, pizza would be good. Can you ring us up some pizzas, runt?"

"Yeah, I can." I said, sliding off the coffee table to grab my phone.

"What're we thinking, guys? Five large pizzas and some two liters?"

I balked at his proposal. "Five pizzas? That's a lot, don't you think?" Thinking about paying for that much food each time they showed up felt like a punch to the gut. I wasn't made of money, preferring to focus on school rather than work myself to death.

"Don't worry little guy, we'll chip in, right fellas?" Four nods answered Brady's request, and was relieved that I wouldn't be dropping a hefty load of cash to cure some Saturday night munchies.

Brady rounded up our order and I called in the delivery, leaving an eagerly waiting pack of wolves standing around my apartment. I was left unsure what to do while we waited.

"Hey Brady, mind if I have a little one-on-one with the runt?"

I damn near jumped at Quinn's offer. So far he'd been gentle enough with me, but alone with him... I wasn't sure I was ready to know how he'd treat me when no one else was around.

Apparently Brady didn't carry the same worries. "Sure, just be done by the time the pizza arrives."

I stayed put while the drake made his way over to me. "You heard Brady; better get a move on, bitch." I give a small nod, moving slowly towards my bedroom, picking up the pace when he places a guiding hand on my shoulder. Quinn passed by me, making his way towards my bed as I turned to the door.

"Just make sure he can walk afterwards!" yells Brady, seconds before the rest of my apartment is cut off. Only dull banter was heard through the wood, a background noise to the intimate world Quinn and I now resided in.

I wasn't going to be the first to say anything, my back against the only exit, watching the drake across the dark space. He sized up the room, glancing over every nook and cranny before his eyes settled back on me.

"Got a belt or some rope?"

"Uhm--yeah, there's a belt in the closet."

"Good. How about lube?"

"In my nightstand."

Quinn nods. "Get that, I'll grab the belt."

I quietly pad over to my nightstand and bend over to reach the bottom drawer, temporarily out of sight of the drake, allowing myself a moment to breathe. What had I gotten myself into? I pick out a small bottle of lube from the nightstand, my hand shaking while I did so. I tried to assure myself that if Brady allowed Quinn to take me somewhere alone, then there wasn't anything to worry about. It didn't really help, as I was still trembling all over when I handed the lube to the drake.

"Where's your dirty laundry?"

"I just did my laundry today."

"Oh, hmm..." Quinn thought on the predicament, toying with the two belts in his right hand. "How about my socks, where are those?"

"In here," I said, moving to the chest. Opening the chest, I grab all the socks, lifting them up for the drake to see. "Which one?"

"Should be the one on top--yeah, those."

I picked out the pair he'd pointed out and discarded the remainder back into the drawer. He looked at all the items we collected and nodded. "Good, that's all we should need."

"Okay," I said, barely above a whisper, as if there was any worry of the loud teammates outside hearing us. The drake moved first to lock the door, then stepped to the empty space in front of my bed. From there, he set the belts and lube down, tore his clothes off his body, and beckoned me over in front of him. I walked up until I was only separated by the supplies at our feet. His unveiled crotch featured a fat donut of a sheath, larger than Brady's by a significant margin. Even with my nerves being all shot, it was hard not to admire his handsome body on display before me.

"So here's what I want: you're gonna tie up my arms, stuff the socks in my mouth, and tie my muzzle shut too. Then you're gonna ride me and make me your bitch. That cool with you?"

I blinked at him. Gears ever so slowly clicked together in my head. Did he say for me to tie him up?

He sighed at my lack of response. "I know it's a weird request. I keep the tough guy look for the other guys, but this is actually what I want."

"S--sure, okay. Yeah I'm uhh, I'm cool with that."

"Cool." He said, already laying down on the carpet. I grab the first of the belts, holding it taut in my hands while the drake got comfortable. He held his hands up, his two wrists pressed together, signaling he was ready. I wrap the belt several times around him, too loosely at first for his satisfaction, and finish with the belt loop through the buckle.

"That feel good?"

"Yeah..." he replied, sounded different. Sounding a little more submissive. "Yeah, it's good."

"Before you do the next..." I stopped with socks in front of his face, waiting for him to finish. "Can you, uhm, can you sit on my face while I eat out your ass?"

"Oh!" I giggled now, relaxing and feeling myself again, standing a bit taller above the meek drake. "I sure can big guy, I'd love that."

He murred happily at my words, and I giddily shuffled around until my ass was properly positioned above his snout, but I didn't stoop down just yet. No, I was thinking of doing a little more teasing.

"Is this what you want?"

"Mmm, yes. I want to taste your ass."

I hummed my reply, "Why should I give you what you want, bitch?"

"Because I want to make you feel good with my tongue. I want to please you so bad..." he mewled, really dropping heavily into his submissive side, a stark difference from the façade he normally wore.

"Good bitch, your damn right I'll enjoy your tongue deep in my asshole." I begin to lower until I felt my taint touch the tip of his snout. "Go ahead, show me what your tongue can do."

I gasped when his tongue first lapped at my tailhole. Oh, that warm slimy appendage felt wonderful. He slurped and sucked so vigorously. Not wanting him to have all the fun, I grinded on his nose and occasionally forced down my rump hard onto his face, knowing the big guy can take the pressure.

"Shit, who knew such a stud would be the perfect stool to sit on. You fit perfect under my ass; I could sit here all day if I wanted, letting you taste my rear for as long as your heart desired." I pressed down hard again. "I bet you'd rather be a tiny bitch, overpowered by guys with big cocks to fill your backside. You probably want a cage just like mine, stopping you from ever getting hard, keeping you pent up and craving dick."

The words were having the desired effect on the drake, judging by his throbbing length. I stretched out a leg to rub my pads up the ebony shaft. "I think you're perfect as is. A beautiful drake with a prized tool, waiting to be used for my pleasure. Though, if you'd like, I can certainly look into some options for cages to fit that beast between your legs."

The drake gave a cute nod from below, still lapping up and down my rump, his body spasming with every touch of my toes on the tip of his massive cock. It was impressive, a thing of beauty, hot and ready for spearing anyone brave enough to take its length. I was feeling daring.

"Quit teasing and stick that tongue in, bitch, I want to be warmed up before I ride you."

The tamed drake bends to my will, and a short whimper escapes my lips. "Now that feels good. Your tongue is so big--and thick too, argh. You make a more and more convincing seat by the second, lizard."

I wasn't exaggerating. His tongue filled me up in ways that Brady's tongue could only dream of doing. I'd have to cut this short, if I wanted to hold my orgasm for the main course. But I helped him edge myself along with the guide of hands wrapped around his horns, keeping his pace slow and steady so I wouldn't pop early.

When I felt ready to move on, I pushed off my newfound seat, groaning when his tongue vacated my rear. "Ready to be muzzled, big guy?"

He didn't choose to reply with words; his visible nodding and audible murring were enough to convince me. "Good boy", I purred.

I grabbed his socks, balled them up, and shoved both into his open maw. Once I was satisfied that he was chewing nicely on his own footwear, I began wrapping the second belt around his snout, not making the same mistake as I did the first time. Extra tight, through the buckle, and voila: one tied up drake, ready to be mounted.

I lean over to rub a hand along his cheek, admiring my work. "You're looking so fucking adorable right now, bitch. I can't wait to ride you until you're roaring through your gag."

He whimpers in agreement, shuffling a little on the floor to demonstrate his restrained neediness. I trace my hand down from his cheek to his neck, travelling over his torso and past his belly, until finally I was close enough to feel the heat of his sheath. I was curious to feel that meaty package as much as I was to feel his cock bruising my prostate. It looks so inviting, so tasty.

I wrap both hands around him and begin having my fun. He was even larger up close, a real behemoth. His flesh gave way to my own, revealing that it was just as inviting to touch as it was to look at. Plump: that was the first word to come to my mind. Yes, it was certainly that, plump. I kneaded all around the puffy skin, enjoying how the drake shivered and squirmed under my control. Though his sheath was wonderful enough alone, there was more to explore under the drake's tail.

A fat sack hung from behind his sheath, the pair of balls inside weighing much more than I'd expected. I spent a little time massaging, enjoying the heat on my fingers. Maybe another day I could spend more time enjoying them. I would enjoy a longer stay with this timid version of the drake, perhaps laying my head on his groin for a rest, his ball stench infusing every breath while I slept.

I threw a leg across Quinn's body, seating myself in front of the erect ebony spire. "Holy shit," I said silently to myself. I stared down at the impressive length. What a fucking sight it was. Pre dripped down from tip to base. I knew what I first desired to do.

A choked moan was coerced from the drake when my maw encased his member. I let my tongue explore his flesh, sampling him, sucking on him. Unsurprisingly, he tasted amazing, and in the same exotic way that his sweaty foot had before. A spiced concoction that I greedily swallowed down my throat. I stayed longer than I should've, knowing our time was limited together, but I couldn't give a damn. There was nothing that was gonna stop me from enjoying this moment to the fullest.

A wet smack sounded out in the room when I released him from my embrace. Both of us took a minute to breath, my hands exploring the inside of his thighs, readying for the main event.

I grab the lube bottle, spreading a palmful of the slick liquid all over his penis. "Times running out; ready for me to ride you 'til you cum?" I twisted my head around to watch for one last nod of approval, smiling when it came.

"Perfect, cause I'm ready too."

I clambered over his body to face his direction, nestling both my knees in the pits of his crotch, my butt hovering above him. Grasping his dick in one hand, I gently lower myself down until I felt the kiss of his tip on my anus, and then proceeded down lower, sliding him into my rump. Each inch was a force of air out of my lungs, and I struggled to find my breath as I kept going further and further down his length. I finally I stopped, not because I bottomed out, but because I was in desperate need of a pause.

"Oh fuck, whew..." I focused on the drake straining desperately against his restraints. "You're all mine, bitch. Fight all you like, but I'll be milking you for all you got."

Gingerly at first, I began pumping up and down, huffing from the stretch I was receiving from the well-endowed drake. It was slow going, even with my experience, but I was making it work, and Quinn's gagged moans told me he was enjoying my squeezing hole. "Mmm, moan for me. Don't worry if they hear; I want to hear your pleasure loud and clear."

His groans picked up in tempo and strength. They were so cute, coming from the big bad drake, helplessly writhing on the floor. I sped up my pace to add my own moans to his, a rapidly rising glow spreading through my body. I wouldn't last long atop this stud.

"Oh fuck... I'm already getting close..." I lean back, resting my hands on his tail, taking my opportunity to tease his asshole. Two lubed fingers slid in so easily, eliciting another pleasured growl from Quinn. "Hmm, seems like someone's been practicing on themselves, already knuckle deep without any complaint. I bet you love having your tailhole stretched. I'll have to keep that in mind whenever we get together again..."

I was getting close to taking his full length, but still wasn't bottomed out yet, unsure if I'd break trying to take it all. I picked up the pace of my riding and fingering both. My will to hold out was weakening. He just felt too good.

"I'm almost..." I couldn't finish my warning before my voice was overtaken by his muffled roaring. I knew what that meant, but was still stunned by the impact of his climax deep in my bowels, pumping load after load inside me. His orgasm kept going and going, and his final thrusts into me were enough for me unload onto his chest, pitiful ropes of cum escaping from my steel cage, seeming so miniscule on his silver-plated belly.

I could only breathe again when we both stilled. Quinn sagged into the carpet, huffing through his socks, his chest heaving but otherwise unmoving. I didn't yet move, still too sensitive to any movement that might have my knees buckling from under me.

"Oh man... That was nice. Did you enjoy yourself, lizard?"

Quinn lazily nods his deadweight head, causing me a tiny giggle. "Good, I'm happy you did. Okay--I think I can finally get off."

I stumbled forward when his shaft slid out of me, causing a trailing mess on his stomach, but I was at least free to move about again. My first objective was to cut loose my prey. I unshackled his wrists, which he began to rub feeling back into, and then straddled his neck to reach his muzzle. He snorted at the loosening of the bondage, stretching his jaws wide to allow me easy access of the two socks he'd been gagging on, both very much dripping from his saliva.

"...if you want me to take those back--"

"No, no, I can handle a little mess," I said, not expressing just how much it turned me on to hold them. To back up that claim, I flipped around and scooched across his chest, stopping at his stained belly. Using the pair of socks as rags, I mopped up our mess, which was mostly his mess, if I were to be honest. Quinn relaxed while I cleaned him and I both, sometime swapping the socks with my tongue for added fun. Once satisfied with my work, I scampered over to the chest one last time, dropping the socks in--but not before I pressed my nose one more time into the soaked fabric. They reeked of his breath, his sweat, and his semen, the spiced mix driving my horny brain up the wall, even after I'd just orgasmed.

A slam on the door startled us both. "Pizza's here!" yelled Brady from the other side.

"Hey runt," Quinn said, stopping me before I left, his lower half already clothed again. "No blabbing this to the others, got it? Keep this between you and I... please."

I mimed a zipper across my lips, and he nodded in approval. The living room lights were blinding for a moment after I opened the door. I squinted at the unchanged scene: the guys were back around the TV, eyes on the game once again. Only Brady acknowledged my arrival around the couch.

"About time you two finished," he said, his fangs showing through the same devilish smirk he loved to sport.

I looked at the empty coffee table, then over the kitchen. "Where's the pizza?"

"Waiting outside, obviously. You gotta grab it, dummy."

"Me? But--"

"No buts--well, except for the one you're showing off. Go on, before the pizza gets cold."

I wasn't getting any sympathy his other friends, all shrugging at the indignant look I gave them. I grumbled my frustrations all the way to the door, swinging it partially open to spot the delivery man, a white-furred fox, standing outside. His right ear was curiously dyed green, a marking that seemed awfully familiar. I could've sworn I'd seen him around campus, but was unsure where.

"Sorry about the wait, uhm... Shit." I'd forgotten about the payment, but a hand stuffed with several bills tapped on my shoulder. When I let go of the door to grab the money from Brady, he took the chance to swing the door wide, revealing all my naked self to the worker.

I was frozen to the floor, my outstretched hand holding his payment but unable to step forward and hand it over. They were equally shocked, glancing uncertainly between me and Brady. It was quite the standoff predicament I'd gotten myself roped into. Apparently satisfied with both our reactions, Brady moved to take the pizzas and two liters from the fox, propelling me forward with a foot against my ass. It took a few steps more than anticipated to stop my momentum, leaving a foot separation between me and the delivery guy.

"Here you go, keep the change." I mumbled, unable to meet his eyes as I handed over the cash.

"Thanks, uhm--Dip, right?"

I did look his way then, surprised he knew my name. "Yeah, how'd you..."

"We had a class together last semester. Not surprising you don't remember me, there were over fifty people in it. I remembered your name cause it was peculiar."

I managed an awkward laugh, scratching the fluffy tip of one ear. "Yeah. Heh, it is, isn't it?"

"Well, looks like you're having fun..." He looked down at my cage, as if to point out that was the fun he was mentioning. "Maybe I'll see you around?"

"Sure, looking forward to it. Your name...?"

"Alex."

"Boooring," droned Brady from behind us. He was scribbling something on a scrap piece of paper. "You shrimps are all the same blubbering mess. If you want to have some fun, give Dippy here a call."

"Me?" I asked, watching the exchange of paper from wolf to fox.

"Yes, you. He'll ring up ABC if you're game, foxy."

"ABC?"

"Don't worry about it." I quickly sputtered, not wanting to give Brady an opportunity to answer.

Alex stared at the paper given to him. "Okay, I'll reach out soon--thanks! Have a good night!"

I watched the fox scamper away. Ears down and tail wagging at Mach speed--there wasn't a doubt he'd be calling in the near future. I smiled at the cute sight, catching him glancing back at the last moment before popping out of sight. Brady shouted something about chow time from inside, and I stepped back inside my apartment, ready for the second half.