All Apologies (M/M) by Hawk

All Apologies (M/M)

Hawk, Anal, Bondage, Cum, Lion, M/M, Male, Oral, Snowballing, Wolf, Zebra, e-stim, sounding

#4 of Zale Sterling, fetish zebra!

All Apologies

by H. A. Kirsch

Apologies to that guy who wrote that song whose title I stole.

I just so happened to look out my apartment window right when some crazy car pulled up. It was simultaneously awesome and hilarious, this sort of 80's thing, a pointy kind of wedge with seemingly big wheels. Like a De Lorean, but not so, I dunno, out of time. It was ink black and spit-polished and had this supercar purr to it. I used to love supercars. One of my high school buddies had a rich dad and he took me around in his Mercedes SL 65 (okay, it was his dad's), and also in a loaner Veyron, and I pretty much wanted to ejaculate on the back seat. Actually, I did ejaculate on the back seat. He said semen made him throw up and sperm was easier to clean up than vomit, so he pulled off and I let 'er rip.

Anyway, fancy car, outside my apartment. So who gets out of the car, but a wolf. A black wolf. A black wolf in this fancy-pants leather outfit, black suitcoat with alligator bits on the shoulders and lapels, black leather pants, conspicuous tall boots. I knew exactly who that wolf was, and the fact that he was _outside my apartment_ made me really, really hope he couldn't see up to the window. I moved my head behind the curtain.

Maybe he was going to see Tate? This drug dealer lived in the penthouse of the apartment building, Tate Williams. He was white collar, so he mostly dealt in pills and exotic hash and blow, and this new stuff called Clear that was... a clear powder. I shit you not. It doesn't work on equines, I mean literally it doesn't work, we don't have some enzyme or neurochemical or some shit. I went to school with Tate and he helped me negotiate a good deal on my apartment. I'd only bought from him once, and it was because I was curious what ecstasy did to me. It made me fuck everything in my apartment, and then I had TMJ for a week. Fuck that.

I looked back out the window. Fuck, no more wolf! My street was all housing, only a few coffee shops, and fat chance some menacing wolf was going to go get a goddamn cup of coffee. He's going to see Tate, he's going to see Tate, he's-

BBLEERRRRRRRRRRRPP. The intercom could not have a more annoying sound. I'll just ignore it. BLEER RRR RRR RR RR R R R R R R R R-

Oh fucking shit. I mashed on the talk button and mumbled into the speaker. "If you keep doing that, I'm gonna call security."

"Hey. Is this Zale Sterling?" I tried to pretend like the voice coming out of the intercom wasn't the sloppy, husky Brooklyn baritone that I'd spent a year listening to. It was weird hearing someone say my name like that - Harley had his heavy put-on perfection, and I always said my name kind of nasally, but that's what I get for being upside down.

"Are you looking for Tate? He's the next button over. They wired the panel all weird down there, and everyone thinks he's-"

"It's got your fucking name next to it. Do you think I'm some kind of idiot?"

I just about had a panic attack. I couldn't think of any rational reason for Hawk to be at my apartment, but I could think of a lot of terrible awful nefarious destructive callous whatever reasons. "Uh. Uh. I'm not taking visitors."

"Like fucking hell you aren't. Look, if you don't buzz me in, I'm going to figure out how to get up there on my own, and that's gonna be a lot of work."

Technically, I headbutted the intercom, and didn't buzz him in. I just so happened to headbutt the "Door Latch" button. Of all the things to run through my head, the fact that I was only wearing underwear filtered to the top. Okay, clothes. I decided on my shiny slate pants, my charcoal club shirt, and no shoes. You know, because uh, that was casual. I picked the shiny stuff because I like shiny stuff and it felt nice.

I stood by the door and waited. Instead of knocking, he tried the knob, then just gave the door a sort of rattle-shove. I unlatched it and opened it on the chain. Yep, wolf. Big, towering wolf, half a foot taller, wide-shouldered, broad-chested, narrow-waisted, leather-clad. Worse than the big beefy kind, because he looked kind of feral if short-furred, whereas some of the bigger wolves just looked kind of harmlessly plush. He looked a bit like a mobster, although instead of awful cologne, he smelled like cigar smoke and sandalwood.

"You oughta call maintenance, this is all wrong," he said, and stuck his gloved hand in, unhooked my security chain, and let it clatter. "Look, I'm not gonna do something stupid. I just... look, let me in, alright?"

You have a thorn in your paw, Mr. Wolf... fine. I opened the door and he sauntered in with that heel-dragging clop that he used to send up and down the halls of his freaky-ass horror-modernist house. "So, uh, what brings you around here?"

"You, what the fuck do you think I'm doing here? Getting some fresh air?" He didn't look at me while he talked, wandered around my dining room table, turned around and leaned on a chair. "I... I was having some kind of moment, and it got the better of me."

I thought of a moment, and it involved him drunk and raving on cocaine, eye yellow turned into a thin little ring around his gaping pupils, muzzle sweaty as he rammed me full and swore and slapped me until I cried a little, and that was only the first night I was at his house. The worst part was that I got hard on the spot, thinking about it, and he _noticed_. I saw that eye-bounce. "A moment."

"Yeah, you know, like I got wound up on something and it started to eat at me. You gotta know how that feels." He adjusted his coat. "Look, I wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for doing all that shit to you a while back."

"What."

"Are you still a rock star? You deaf now? I said I'm fucking sorry for yanking your chain for a fucking year."

I had set foot in an alternate reality. Thorn in paw indeed, he was _apologizing_. I always considered that PRS guitar he got me as kind of an apology, because it was thirteen thousand dollars and that's a lot of money to buy a street-walking zebra pony. I nickered, and he just quirked an eyebrow. "Uh. What am I supposed... I don't know what to say?"

"If you don't wanna forgive me, that's fine. I just wanted to say it. It's a long story and I'm not gonna tell you, I just... are you still doing that same shit? I heard you worked at that club for a while."

He was serious! I felt relieved, but _harder_. I paced in place a bit. Hawk wandered around the living room and eventually made his way towards the sofa. "I did that for another year and it just kind of messed with my head. I ended up getting a regular old job. Sales manager in retail."

"Oh really. You mind?" He sat down without letting me answer. He seemed to enjoy the creak of sofa leather against his outfit, as he sat back slowly, spreading his arms out along the back of the couch. I had to hand it to him, he had his whole act down to a T. I had never seen him slip, once, even when he was being genuinely affectionate to me. A nuzzle one moment, and a gruff epithet the next.

"Yeah. Like every washed up guitarist, I work at The Music Box. I get to play guitar all day and act like hot shit and tell bratty young guys what to do. It's okay. It pays the bills."

"This is a nice apartment."

"I went to school with the guy who lives in the penthouse, who's friends with the landlord."

"You went to school with Tate Williams and he's letting you live here so you don't rat him out."

I made a face. "Are you really here to apologize?" Oh, I was hard because I had to pee!

Hawk narrowed his eyes. "Look, if I was some kind of total psychopath who took a street whore home and kidnapped him for a year, how would I fucking apologize for that? But no, I'm not, I'm a shithead. I'm a fucking coward who listened to - have you heard this, you heard this all, right? - some raving lunatic from the Eastern Bloc who sweet-talked me into picking up some street urchin and doing whatever he told me to do for a year. He being the lunatic, that cat guy. You know him. He said you tried to pick a fight with him in some park while you were out jogging."

That just made me feel embarrassed. I remembered meeting Tomasz, remembering him from my 'birthday party', ruining his expensive camera, getting run down into the ground by him, and then getting lectured like an errant child. "Shit. I was trying to think this whole thing was some weird prank but no, no, I remember.."

"Anyway, that fucking cat... he did something to me, I dunno what. Years ago. Whenever he calls me up, I just gotta listen to him. I gotta do what he wants. I kind of owe him my life, in that he didn't kill me, so... look, I'm sorry. I should have said something, I should have been a little nicer, you know?" Hawk seemed more frustrated than anything, sincere if kind of arm-twisted. "If I told you what was going on in my life right now, you wouldn't believe it, even though I fucking nailed you for an hour straight while shocking the come out of your dick with some crazy shit. That's pretty crazy. Who does that? That happened, and my life is happening now, and the last time I tried to apologize to someone it ended up unraveling everything. So, you know, just say, 'okay', or something."

I really had to pee. So, Michael Jasek lent me this really nice set of those sound rod things and he told me that if I wanted to try them out, I should drink a pile of raw cranberry juice. So I did, and sweet fuck there's a reason that stuff is mixed with all kinds of apple juice bullshit normally. I guess there's a lot of vitamin C in there, because it made me really really tingly. "Okay. I accept. Do you mind if I go take a leak? I don't wanna be rude, but I'm totally serious."

The look on Hawk's face started to twist into one of those rude smirks that seemed built-in. "You go take care of that. Let me know if you need someone to hold it."

After a nice, hot leak, I had a bit more of my senses. I chose the master suite bathroom. Yeah, master suite. That means the bedroom has a door into the bathroom. You know what my apartment is? It's an entry into a kitchen, a dining area that's part of a living room, and a bedroom. That's nothing. Even my parents' house had more rooms, and it was fucking cramped and had no basement.

I had a thought. Hawk wanted to apologize. Hawk had fucked me because someone told him to, and I was a convenient target. Granted, there were other whores out that day and he picked me.. okay, that was a big deal. He picked me. He wanted me. Despite some creepazoid telling him to fuck me in broken english, he wanted _me_.

I couldn't resist. For a moment, I thought about leather, about the hoof boots, about prancing out there with my dick flopping around and looking all badass-sultry. Then I got a funny feeling, like my life just repeats itself over and over. I also thought about what Hawk got me for my birthday, what he loved so much, and what Harley loved so much. All of these things involved leather. If I was going to try to subversively stick it to the black wolf, I'd have to try harder. So I just took off my clothes and went back out naked.

At first, Hawk was kind of non-surprised. He was looking around my computer desk and its recording paraphenalia, turned his head, and just gave this eye-roll smirk. "What happened, did you flush your clothes down the toilet?"

I usually went around the apartment naked or barely clothed, so I didn't feel that weird. A bit overdressed, thanks to all his leather. I walked on up and palmed through my mohawk. "I thought it'd be easier to accept your apology without clothes in the way." What would he say to that?

He stared daggers, that's what. I thought he was going to kill me. He turned, stared, furrowed his brow, and his lips pulled back in a snarl. With his muzzle tipped down a bit and yellow eyes fixed on me, he looked like a challenging wolf. It made me scared, and I get horny when I'm scared, so it made my dick swell and then start throbbing its way upwards. He didn't look at it. "You have to be fucking kidding. Don't pull this bullshit on me. The last time I fucked someone over, they turned out to be a total psychopath. They're on the edge of ruining my life. I came here because I want to say I'm sorry for fucking around with you. Didn't you hear me when I just said that?" He started gesturing, pointing over at the wall for no apparent reason.

"Well, I... I mean... I thought you..." What did I think? I thought he was coming over to fuck me because he was bored and hadn't seen me for a while.

"You thought what?"

"I thought you wanted me?"

He stared for a long time, maybe even a minute. That's a long time to stare at someone in a heated conversation. "Tomasz told me to fuck you. He told me to pick up a whore and then he started adding on demands until it turned into 'do all of these fun things until I say to quit'. I made up that year thing, then when I told him I told you that, he told me I had to do it. It's not like anyone else lives with me, so the prospect of having a live-in prostitute for a year? I like to fuck as much as anyone else."

"That doesn't really answer my question..." I felt hurt and I probably looked hurt, sinking back against the archway between the 'living room' and the 'dining room / kitchen / utility room'. I'm not a dog, I don't tuck my tail and ears and everything. I just kind of pace in place and back up against things and look anxious. I could see the reaction working on him, and it made him look more feral, angry, and made his leather pants look awful tight. Part of me really found it scary, but a more conscious part found it hot. He had some look about him that wasn't just Tough Guy. It was like the world was going to bend around him to fit things into place.

"He told me to pick up a whore. He didn't tell me which whore to pick up. A zebra who isn't a fucking Stallion with a capital S, wearing some rocker stuff, perching on some wall like a vain boy for hire? Of course I'm going to bite. You think I didn't enjoy it? I enjoyed every single time I came in you or on you, every time I made you come, every time I made you c..."

I almost wanted to cry, but I redirected the feeling downwards and felt my cock tingle. I stepped away from that door and approached him - Hawk stood still, shoulders up under his leather blazer, arms at his side, muzzle still tipped down. "Oh. Well... I guess... I mean I accept the apology. So, maybe, you could.." my feelings were a mess. I wanted to stick it to Hawk somehow, but I actually felt a little bad since he seemed sincere, if a little profane. "Maybe you could take off your clothes, too. I mean, you never do. You always wear that stuff."

"Yeah, well, look what I did, I bought you some fucking expensive leather and what, you're fucking naked when you're trying to seduce me."

"I'm not trying to seduce you!" I stroked over his leather jacket, feeling the weird checkerboard pattern of the alligator, then the smooth leather on the main front, the muscle curves under it, his breathing, and he was so close to me, breathing in my face, that kind of meaty carnivore smell. "Are you drunk?"

"Do I smell drunk?"

No... "I really kind of liked all that nasty stuff. I mean, I did. I'm kinky. I just, I'd never done it really, it was all new, I just went along with it, but I'm kinky now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He still wasn't touching me.

"It means you should come into my bedroom and take off your clothes," I said, and let go. I turned and went into the bedroom, climbed into bed, and waited.

After a good long few minutes, which involved him apparently having a glass of water in the kitchen, he came in. Still wearing all that leather. "I thought you were seeing some lion guy. What's his name, Harley? He's in the paper every now and then, the business section."

"It's complicated."

"You think I'm going to fuck you if you tell me you're in a 'complicated' relationship?"

"We're not in a relationship. I can do whatever I want. He can do whatever he wants. When he wants to do me, he calls me over and pays me. Still. Even though I don't really do that anymore otherwise."

Without missing a beat, Hawk took his wallet out, extracted a twenty, and tossed it onto my dresser. "Handjob or blowjob?"

That got me so hard, it hurt. I mean it ached, it wasn't even that big swollen hard, just the kind of inner hard where it feels real uncomfortable, like when you're falling asleep and get an erection and it won't go away. "Uh. Well, repeat customers get, uh, a discount, so blowjob."

Hawk let out a gruff, then looked around the room as he started taking off his jacket. I propped myself up on a few pillows and let the sheets kind of drape over my legs, not really covering me up. It felt sexy, and he seemed to stare at me a little more when I did it, which made me feel even sexier. His head slowly locked on, fixated as he moved around the room, discarding his clothes into random hanging places around the furniture. He was pacing around the bed. "Mm. Well, I guess I picked the right whore for that, huh? I don't feel like going to one of those skinhouses, and well, it's either a horse or a bull otherwise. Right? You said something like that once, like humans who like hybrids all go for the cloven hoof."

"Yep. I'm even kosher." He was _stalking_ me. Not like television drama stalking, like hungry wild animal stalking. I did not like that. I didn't trust Hawk, and that does not go against the fact that I was going to let him stick his dick in my mouth. I just didn't trust him.

"Yeah, well," and that's all he said before he started climbing into bed. "You know, I really like leather. I really like wearing all that stuff. I wear it all the time. I can't think of the last time I fucked without it. This is a nice change of pace." He didn't slip into bed alongside me like guys tend to do - it's really only in movies that they just crawl over top. He did just that. He broke the mold. I kind of backed up into the pillows, scooting out from underneath the sheets, propping myself up in case he wanted to fuck my mouth.

Once he was over my abs, he kneeled and almost sat back, dangerously close to sitting on my dick. Well, if it was hard. It was going a bit soft. Like I said, I couldn't trust him. I checked his pupils - not very dilated. No coke this time. The wolf handled his dick, showing it off, revealing and hiding the head under its leathery (but surely velvet-soft) foreskin. Okay, that was kind of hot. Holy shit, he smelled, but not quite like Harley. He hadn't come recently, per se. He probably just didn't wash it with soap in the shower. He then held his drooping length up, skinned the flesh back, and snarled so hard that it made me almost kick him. The end of the snarl had his muzzle down, and then he spit a huge blob all over his black mushroom. He rolled the flesh back over, then grabbed me by the mohawk. "I know you fucking whores don't like to kiss, so you can have a blown one."

Yes Mr. Wolf! I pursed my lips out and made a big, wet show of kissing that slimy spit off his flesh. He tasted more salty than sour, even with spit mingling with... I don't even want to say it because it makes it less hot. His dick swelled when I kissed and suckled, growled when I wound my tongue around behind the ridge underneath that supple flesh. That got me _hard_. Hawk had a really nice dick. Maybe that was why I let him keep me in his house for a year. I went a little deeper, shoveling spit out onto his length, fully intending to make a show of licking it back off, rubbing it on my-

He pushed my head back and scooted back, body collapsing down against me, twisting his hips down between my legs. My knees went up and I tried to push him off, but he was damn strong and I was using the wrong move. I didn't push him off - I let him get right in the right position. "What the hell are you fucking doing? You paid me for a blowjob!"

"I didn't pay you for jack shit," he snarled, then spit in my face. Not even that sexy kind of splurt - it sprayed all over my muzzle and got into my nostrils. I shook my head and he smacked me hard. I brayed out and he smacked me harder. "You pull some kind of little seductive shit on me, you get it. You get it just the way you really like it."

I looked down - he was stiff as a board. He usually didn't get that hard unless he was completely out of his mind. "You're such a wolf!"

"You think I'm kidding?"

It went right in. "OWW! YOU FUCK!" I head-butted forward and hit him in the sternum with a thump. He just laughed, muzzle twisting with a nasty smirk up one side. It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt, but it hurt in that way that felt good enough that I felt like a toy and wanted to pout. "You can't rape me! I wanna get fucked!"

"That's not gonna work," Hawk snarled, lurching back and then lunging forward, hands seizing my wrists and splaying them back. I fought my chest against his, and he hit me in the face with his snout. He smacked me with his fucking _snout_! "Listen to me. I came here to fucking apologize." Pol had a hard thrust, and it went right through the second hole. I pain-frowned at him. "I came here to apologize for treating you like shit, and I was gonna do it right. The last time I tried to apologize to anyone, he told me that when I raped him, he liked it. Now, I come here to apologize to you, and when I rape you, you tell me you fucking _like_ it."

He wasn't just feral, wasn't just pounding - I'd had pounding from a wolf before, and he bruised my hip. He was writhing, jerking, kicking his hips into me, not really pulling back very far, just forcing, grinding me into dust. I felt terrible because he was a cheat, felt terrible because he was using me for sex, felt terrible for taking his use so goddamn easily, felt terrible because I really did like it. "I'm sorry," I said.

Hawk snarled and bit my ear. I thought he was going to tear it off, but he only dragged his teeth off it, then licked inside. When he started running his yap again, it was... it wasn't right. It was scary, and not really so hot any more. "I guess this is just what I'm meant to do. I'll leave a little gift for that lion you like. I'll leave it nice and deep, so when he pulls out and makes you suck him off, I'll still be coming in your filthy, cock-sucking, apple-grabbing horse mouth. Do you understand me? I'm not going to come all over your chest, all over your face. I'm not going to beat your ass until you shoot yourself in the eye. I'm not going to tie you down and shock your balls empty. I'm going to fuck you in the ass and come in you and that's fucking _that_."

Now he was pounding me, legs strained and splayed, knees dug into the bed, toes dug into the bed, pausing every few thrusts so that he could reposition his feet for the best leverage. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't fucking apologize! You filthy son of a bitch!"

He stopped dead and stared at me, and I could feel it. It felt like when you squeeze the enema bulb those couple of times at the end to get all of it out. I was nowhere near coming; it was all kind of rough and sudden and I just felt a little confused. Hawk's eyes rolled and he let out this tickled shudder, then dragged his dick out and gave it a good milk up the underside, drawing out this big creamy drool. Then, he just kneeled off to the side and sat down on the bed.

"You know, Harley's... fuck bed?... It still smells like you." I guess it was a fishing line. Hawk did what I knew he would, and I felt the way I thought I would feel, but something was completely off. I figured if I said something touchy, maybe he'd perk up. Meanwhile, the other half of me said, "you idiot, you're taunting a _wolf_!"

I expected some kind of horrific dagger-stare from Hawk, but I just got a tired sort of glare glossed over with post-orgasmic letdown. "You didn't even fucking come."

I looked down. "Nope. It was such a whirlwind of activity!" I tried to make a dramatic gesture but felt instantly stupid. "Sorry to pop your bubble."

"I don't care that much," he said, and stood up to dress. I expected a show, but he really just put his leather gear back on like he was about to go out for the day. "Don't bother getting up. I don't need an escort to go to the fucking door."

As soon as he had his pants, boots, and gloves on, he was out the bedroom door with only enough time to snatch his deposited twenty dollar bill from my dresser. "Look, I really do accept-Hey, what the fuck!"

"Tell that lion I say hi," Hawk said, gruff and loud in the other room. Two seconds later, my front door opened and slammed.

What the hell was I going to do with an ass full of wolf spunk and blue balls? Make dinner. I opted for curried pineapple and cabbage. Remember: horse, veggies.

My phone rang midway through and I put it on speaker. "Hey Harley," I said, trying to be as cool as I could be, pausing the clanking and stirring. "You won't believe who just came over."

Instead of saying anything, he growled.

"Uh. Wow. So you're in-"

"Mr. Sterling," he said, words huffed into the phone with another growl behind them. He sounded winded, angry. "You, will not believe, what I just did. I just took care of a problem, that has been bothering me, for some time."

I could see him in my minds eye, body physically expanding and shrinking as he breathed hard, scowl on his face, mane attractively mussed. I imagined him holding the phone in front of his face, practically spitting into it. It was funny, which was good, because his actual voice didn't sound amused. "Really? What'd you take care of?" I didn't really know much about Harley's day to day life. He had a job telling people how to do things more effectively at work, and he apparently liked to do housework, and worked out, and probably played tennis or racquetball with business acquaintances.

"Kyle."

Whoa. "You took care of Kyle?"

"The company partnership is now a much more intimate pairing." I could tell he was trying real, real hard. I could hear his phone handset creaking a bit. Any second, it would explode into plastic bits, like he was the incredible hulk.

"I, I dunno, I'd worry about firing him, I mean he seems kind of-"

"Kyle is not going to be bothering me, or you, ever again. While he has very little conscience, he is still a dog. Dogs are very easy to train with negative reinforcement. After tonight, I know for certain that he will fear punishment again." After a very long, panting pause and what sounded like a lip slurp: "Why are you calling me? You said someone came over to visit."

"Yeah, Hawk came over."

"Hawk." Harley said it as if he didn't know who I was talking about.

"Yeah, you know, that wolf-"

"I know exactly who he is, Mr. Sterling. Why did he come over?"

"He wanted to apologize for keeping me imprisoned in his house for a year. I thought that was kind of weird." I spooned my food out into a bowl. It had greasy spots on the top. That's the best sign of coconut milk curry. "Then he made like he was paying me for a blowjob, but he fucked me instead." I tried to sound as deadpan as possible.

Harley roared. I'd never heard him do it before, but I assumed he could. The sound was so immense that it really just made static in the phone. When it tapered off, I heard that kind of hollow ring from an empty room.

"I'm sorry?" Fuck dinner. Harley was mad at me. I think.

"You, are going to come over to my house at ten-fifteen tonight. I do not care what you wear, Mr. Sterling." He hung up.

Yes, Mr. Benson. Right away, Mr. Benson. I won't do it again, Mr. Benson.

I wore my riding suit, not because I like strutting around town in skin-tight leather, but because I took my bike. I couldn't really think of a different way to get there, since the busses didn't quite make it to his upper-middle-class neighborhood and I didn't want to bother Jasek. I wanted to wear my hooves, which I'd notched for riding on my bike a few weeks earlier, but I couldn't find them. That bugged the shit out of me but what was I going to do? I had to be at Harley's at a certain time.

Harley's front door had a post-it on it that read, "COME INSIDE." I get to come somewhere? That'd be nice. I kept getting hard while straddling my bike, thanks to that fucking wolf. I opened the door and stepped in. "You shouldn't put notes on the door like that. My parents totally had this neighbor when I was a kid, and he did that for someone who was coming over, and someone else just waltzed in and shot him. He was blind after it!" No response. "Harley?" No response.

I walked around. Nothing out of the ordinary in the living room - magazines on the coffee table, cushions on the sofa. Nothing strange in the kitchen - a few dishes in the dishwasher, some takeout boxes in the trash. I went upstairs - nothing up there at all, save for the regular furniture. Master bedroom empty, playroom or whatever empty, spare bedroom/office empty, bathroom empty.

Basement... okay, I was getting kind of freaked out. All alone in someone else's house, with an unlocked door. Just as I got to the bottom of the stairs, I heard a _clank_. I felt just a little bit of heat in my dick... no, don't piss, don't piss, don't piss!!

Then, _clank_. _Clank_. _Clank_ and a _growl_! The clank started to sound familiar and not so scary. Kind of like in a gym, the clank of weight plates against each other. The growl was totally not scary, because it sounded canine. Oh, I get it!

I couldn't see what was causing the noise because Harley had installed a privacy screen between the 'rec room' part of the basement and the 'workout area'. I started towards it and instantly skidded to a stop when a black hand swiped the curtain away. Black leather, black wolf! Not quite. It wasn't Hawk's hand, it was Harley's, wearing a full-hand glove for once. Something kind of dressy if unlined, and it looked really, really nice on his hand.

The rest of him was dressed just like he'd been that time he got me the hoof boots and punished me for... well, nothing. Black leather suit jacket, crisp white shirt, black leather pants, black cowboy boots. He was hard in the leather, and he had the wild mane I imagined earlier. Wind blown, maybe sweaty, maybe wetted and managed. Like he'd been rough-housing.

He looked... normally, Harley looked angry. He always looked angry. He does look angry and he will always look angry. He is the guy who goes to your party and stands by the punch bowl looking like someone just dropped a water balloon on him. When he revealed himself, he looked worse than angry. He looked _amused_. The reason was pretty obvious. Face-forward, chest down, rope-knotted to the weight bench: one naked black wolf with a chain muzzle fit for a four-legger pit bull.

"Mr. Sterling, I am two for two tonight. Would you like to know what I did to Kyle earlier?" Harley kept holding onto the curtain. Hawk looked at me, yellow eyes turned over towards me like a dog lying muzzle-flat on the floor.

"Sure," I shrugged.

"First, I fired him."

"Always a good idea," I said, starting to unzip my jacket. His basement was warm, almost irritatingly warm. Harley was never one to be overheated. Maybe it was some lion thing? I'm a zebra but I really don't care much about weather.

"Please pay attention, Mr. Sterling. Next, I entertained the idea of fucking him. However, that was something he would enjoy. Just before fucking him, I decided instead to hit him in the balls with a wooden paddle, hard enough that he howled and threw up."

It really says something about me that the first thought I had was, 'why do you have a wooden paddle at your -office-?' "He threw up?"

"If Kyle Blake is interested in ball torture, it is not that kind of torture." Harley whipped the last of the curtain to the side and grabbed me. He stood around behind me, clutching me around my arms so I couldn't move, and continued opening up the leather suit. I shuddered and leaned back against him. So what that a wolf was looking at me with a rotten stare? He was tied up and Harley was turning me on so bad.

I mumbled, and that goaded the lion to move on.

"He did not seem to get the message, so I dislocated his shoulder. Then, I told him exactly how he was going to behave from now on. He accepted that, so I put his shoulder back. I would like you to know that I am not a medical professional, however, I was just speaking with a doctor that I know and Kyle will not be too injured."

"Uh, uh, why are you telling me this?" I stood there, frozen, as he peeled the leather away. No underwear, so out flopped my dick. Hawk snorted. "And why is Hawk tied up? I mean, bonus points that you got a hold of him so-"

Harley grabbed me by the jaw with one hand, and by the balls with the other. "You are not exactly in trouble. Hawk is, but not as much as Kyle was. He fucked you. He treated you poorly, I presume, because he is not capable of treating anyone nicely. You let him fuck you, and if his story is correct, actually seduced him into doing it. I have some punishment for him, something expected. I have something for you as well, but it is very, very special." He let me go. "Undress. I want you completely naked. Go into the utility room and kneel in the center." He pointed.

He wasn't really the best dominant. His haughtiness always seemed to come out, and it almost seemed comical. Then he'd just edge on the scowl a little and it would all break away to the true, grumpy sadist within. I decided not to play games, because apparently he'd beaten Kyle up pretty thoroughly. I tugged my boots off, unhooked the two parts of the suit, then climbed on out. The close warmth was now just comforting, offsetting the raw concrete of the utility room. I kneeled right down in the center, facing out into the workout room. I could see Hawk's eyes, and they bounced down to my feet. At first, I thought he was eying my dick. Oh shit, no, maybe I was leaking wolf? No way, that wasn't...

I was kneeling over the floor drain. "Uh, Harley, I didn't really think you were into this kind of thing."

"I am very sure that I have told you about being feline, Mr. Sterling." He started walking towards me, slowly opening up his coat with a black-clad hand. He withdrew something from a pocket, a black plastic baggie, tall and narrow. "Perhaps merging with humanity caused the real problem. Tigers mate often when in season. Very often. Many times in a single day. Humans have no mating season. Now, tigers want to, need to mate all the time. I have it even worse. I get aroused when I get angry, and working my anger out does not satisfy me nearly enough. Even more, I adore treating you like a piece of sexual _trash_." By then, he was towering over me, and when let that last nasty thing fall out of his mouth, it came with a little spit.

I looked around Harley's black leather and saw Hawk staring at me. He didn't look mad, he didn't look smug, he just stared, like someone would stare at an attacker in a horror movie. He knew what Harley was going on about, what was in that bag, just how I was going to play trash.

The lion started to take his cock out of his pants. It was bundled in one of those posing leather jock pouches, glints of silver at the corners to hold it on. He unsnapped them and out it came, sweaty and glistening and black. The mushroomed head filled out the foreskin, then slid out into the open, stinking of the salty-sweat of ripened precum. I arched forward, and it was this totally innate response, like I was an animal, a desperate, needy animal being promised some tantalizing food.

"I also believe you know that I am acquainted with your friend Michael Jasek. He is a very interesting fox. Not my type, exactly, but very eager with his interests. One of them, I am starting to enjoy." Harley slid the hidden object out of that foot-long bag. It glistened, black and flexible, maybe a bit more like a solid dildo instead of a gummy worm. It had a noticeable crook in one end, and was it hollow? Yes it was. It was also slippery with something. Harley stepped around me and went over to a shelf, then took a small bottle down. Lube, stashed where I probably wouldn't have found it. "Your punishment is going to humiliate you, and it is going to satisfy something that I have been, for lack of a better word, dying to try for the last few months."

Okay, I've been peed on a few times before. I assumed that's what Harley wanted, so I prepared myself for it. If he peed on my chest, on my neck, oh, that was going to be nice. My face? Humiliating. Down my back? All over my asshole and the back of my balls? I was getting hard. Was Hawk rolling his eyes? Yes he was!

Harley applied another coating of lube to that toy, then held his cock just behind the ridge of the head. Every time I saw someone stick something into their dick, I felt amazed. Even if it was me, and my dick. Such a sensitive place, and yet it's greedily gobbling up some rude toy or hard metal rod. Harley's intimidating scowl turned into a more affable one, if more clearly pained. Gone was that burning stare, eyes fixed instead on carefully feeling flexible silicone into his pisshole.

Even worse, he seemed to be having trouble. "I, uh, I think I know how to... can I? I'm serious, I won't-"

"Prove it, and do it silently, please," Harley said, stuffing two slippery fingers against my lips. The lube tasted like spicy vanilla. When it mingled with his rank cock scent, the result was alarmingly savory.

I helped nudge that rubbery sound in past the base of his dickhead, to a big growl and muscle-swollen leather creak. I wiggled it around, gently pushing further and further. The other hand grabbed onto his balls, tugging them down and 'straightening' his cock until the rod was slowly going 'inside' his body. I looked up. The look on his face had gone from pained to slack, drooling, almost like that moment before a sneeze. I could feel his contours guiding the sound to rotate one way, then the other, inevitably ending up with that angle meshing with the corner right before the prostate.

It was so intimate. I'd never been that intimate with Harley, not even when he kissed me. Something so delicate and risky, and clearly pleasurable, penetrating in a way that transcended power roles...

He started sounding like he was going to orgasm, and I knew where that rod was going. When he let out a breath catch and a slobber of spit right down onto my face, I just licked it off my lips. When the huge white blast of seed pumped out of his dick, I- You know how sometimes, when you come, the first shot is like a real long squirt? Imagine if that didn't stop after half a second. Imagine if it just kept going, like that crazy internet video of the guy who pumps his balls full of saline and cums like someone squeezing a mayo bottle at the diner.

He grabbed me by the head and let out another sound. That was no orgasm. That was emptying a good, hot piss. Only this piss was like piss-scented semen, creamy and splashing all over my face, hosing my neck, then leaving its nasty slippery film all over my chest.

"What? What the, what is this? Harley?" It went so far beyond humilating that tears burst out of my eyes, only to roll down my cheeks without the accompanying sob, emotions already having swung from 'filthy pony!' to 'What the hell is this?' It was about half a lion-bladder of slightly thinned-out semen.

The last little dregs oozed out, and then he started to slowly jerk his cock, smearing the heinous mess all over his glove leather as he tugged leather on slippery skin, skin over dickhead, rod in and out of his prostate and bladder. I knew exactly what that felt like, and I would not be able to stand tall over a come-slathered zebra pony if I was in his place. "That, Mr. Sterling..." and he just stopped making any kind of intelligible sound. Instead, he groaned and seed bubbled up from around the rod. He drew it out and let out another sort of roar, but the sound escalated up from a groan to a wall-shaking, rib-rattling noise that you usually only hear in the zoo. Half of his climax came out of the hollow tube, while the other half came out of his dick when it was free, and it all kind of oozed out instead of spurting free. "Mmh."

I stared. That first blast wasn't come. "You, how did you, how did you make so much?"

"I pissed come on you," he snarled, then turned away. "Clean yourself off. We need to take this mutt back home." He left the room and headed upstairs, walking with the slow clop of someone who enjoys boots and just climaxed for the umpteenth time that day.

I had to get off. I had to, I had to, I had to!!! Clean myself off, what the fuck ever! I'd been fucked in the ass, and then dumped on like a fucking draught horse on Heat blew all over me. Harley may have been satisfying something weird, but a slick on my chest? That shit cranked me up. I was crazed. I swiped up a towel from the basement half bath, then paused.

There was only one thing to do.

"Open up." I grabbed Hawk's head and tried to wedge a few fingers in.

"Ahh caahn."

"Come on, come on, hurry up before he comes back down!" I pried harder.

"AHH CAHH AAHM UUHHZLEDUH!"

Oh. I unhooked the muzzle and took it off. Hawk immediately let his tongue out and licked his chops. "Well, open up. Stick your tongue out. Come on, just do it! You don't even have to swallow! I'll, uh, you can spit in here!" I held out the fresh towel with one hand while I furiously yanked on my dick with my other. I pulled the skin over the glans a little bit, until it flared too much to do that. It pinched a little, but it felt good. I could feel Harley's spunk congealing in my chestfur, I could feel it trying to run down my thighs as it started to thin out after another few minutes. No stomping around upstairs. Water running in the pipes. Come on, come on, come on...

Hawk gave me a dirty look as he lay on the bench, head open wide, tongue hanging out over his teeth and drooling a line of spit onto the concrete. Why the hell was he doing that? Why why why? What a fucking mutt! Wolf, my ass! He was a mutt! He was a filthy mutt! A filthy mutt! A dirty, filthy, come-covered mutt!

I shot so hard that it stung, and it went straight into his mouth. He squinted and gulped, then gagged on the next one and coughed it up all over the end of the bench. I stared and yanked and squeezed and milked it out, firing every single drop out of my dick into that black and white mouth. Even the roof of his mouth was black,until about the last inch. Black and smeared with semen, tongue lurching around as he swallowed.

"Okay, okay, whew," I said, dizzy from the pleasure, feeling weird and empty inside. I toweled his face off, then the bench, then ran into the half bath to try and clean myself for real.

Just as I was getting my leather gear back on, I heard Harley come down the stairs. Ohhh shit, Hawk's muzzle was off. The wolf didn't say a peep, though. What the hell? He had a terrible attitude. His attitude was the Brooklyn version of Harley's. Still, nothing from him.

"I see you got yours from Zale," Harley said, looking down at Hawk. "I suppose he deserves that release, considering you were not considerate enough to give it to him." I couldn't see what Harley was doing, but it clanked and clicked, then produced a big sigh.

"Look, let's just get in your car-" Hawk started to say, but Harley did something to physically quiet him.

"Your car," the lion responded, voice dripping blood.

"The car," Hawk corrected, then grunted. I could hear leather, atop the squeaks and creaks of my own. I stepped out, fully clad, and both stared at me. Not like I was privy to anything filthy, but only that I had interrupted. Huh. "You two can sit in the back. Together."

"Oh boy," I said, merging up against the two as they headed upstairs. "An awkward ride across town in Harley's fancy car." At this point, I didn't care that I was sarcastic. What was Harley going to do? Piss come on me?

"You are mistaken," Harley snapped back. He was right.

We got to ride in the Lagonda. Aston Martin. British Leyland. Somewhere, deep inside me, I felt a weird sense of limey pride.

Then, I just felt like I was in some sort of magical alternate universe, where everything was opulent but out of date well over thirty years. The car was all leather, angular but very comfortable, and the dashboard controls looked like they belonged in a late 1970's spaceship. Two black leather suits, black leather pants, black leather gloves. One black leather motorcycle suit. All male. All we needed was for someone to wear a big, gold ring.

"You two really have some kind of thing," Hawk said, after ten minutes of silence. Apparently, the two lived on the absolute opposites of town, and in a direction that meant having to take a long route even with highways. I sank back in the car, boot skidding under Harley's seat a bit. Hawk was sitting next to me, leaning back into the corner, one boot pulled up and propped on his leg. He had the most amazing boots. Fancier dress versions of badass-western gunslinger boots, straight shafts, tapered square toe, and a solid heel. All he needed were a pair of rattling spurs.

Harley turned to look back, gave Hawk a filthy look - albeit the same one he usually wore - then just went back to driving. I watched his gloved fingers stroke the steering wheel as we tore through a scenic wooded trail in the deep dusk. I started to get hard again.

The lion didn't answer, and Hawk eventually tilted his head at me, a bob, a very mafia-esque look with a canine touch. I cleared my throat. "Uh, well, I guess."

"I'll be fucking honest, I've never, ever seen anyone do that. I didn't even know you could. I've seen a lot of shit. You won't even begin to imagine what I've done that you've probably only heard about. Don't you have some real perverted little fox boyfriend? I could make him faint." Hawk stared me down from that coy backwards lean.

I laughed. "I don't, what? No, Jasek and I aren't, why would you think that? Did you say?" I sputtered and leaned in, then turned to Harley.

"Your lupine friend is making assumptions again," Harley said, face draining of road frustration. That expression gave him a totally bestial, irritated look.

"Well, you know, I met him a while back, and I guess we both..." I stopped, waiting until Hawk gave me that urging look. Outside, we started pulling into a subdivision, only to glance through it and down a very winding path deep in the woods. "Find each other's company mutually beneficial." By the end of that, I was sounding the syllables out so I didn't ham it and make myself look like a cock-stuffed airhead.

Neither spoke again until we passed a sign that read, "Road ends - Private Access Only". There was a sort of bulge in the road, allowing all but the largest trucks an easy way to escape. We passed a few more driveways. Hawk piped up again. "You like my car?"

"It's nice. It's kind of fancy, but like an old-"

"James Bond movie, yeah, yeah. I know. That's why I got it. It's even an Aston Martin. Look at me. Intrigue and anonymous sex." He reached over and grabbed me by the mane, then grabbed my snout by the other hand. The sudden grip startled me and I pushed at him, but backed off the second he eased up. I didn't _want_ to; I wanted to shove him off me. I just didn't. "If we weren't about to pull into my fucking driveway.." He trailed off, fingering my lips, then sinking glove leather right on in. I suckled at his fingers, because how could I not? Glove leather, musk, cigar smoke, spit, sex, spicy and salty and using my mouth.

The car stopped, but Hawk didn't. He let them slip out, waiting until Harley made a cluck in his throat like he was going to talk. The two nodded and then climbed out.

Hawk's house was just like I remembered it. Weird, excessively square, dark but luscious inside, overwhelmingly male. I think he'd said it was fifties modernist? It was actually modern, which apparently modernism wasn't - that stuff makes my head hurt. All squares and rectangles, dark wood and concrete and faintly marbled slate tile. Black leather and glass, a lingering scent like someone smoking a cigar in the tack room of a dude ranch.

"Stop," Harley said, just a few feet into the foyer. Hawk stopped on a dime and stared daggers. "In the closet. What are those?"

The wolf turned and opened the partially closed gate. Inside, a few pairs of boots, a few belts hanging, motorcycle jacket, long overcoat, two cowboy hats. Then, tousled across the deep brown toes of some rustic cowboy boots: a pair of heavy silver spurs with black tooling on them and a stout strap with silver-dollar conchos. "You want me to fucking wear those?"

"No. I want you to give them to me," Harley said, straightening his shirt amidist the gleaming black leather of his suit jacket.

Hawk tilted his head, just like he had at me, then leaned down with a slow creak of leather and fetched the spurs. They clanked. I felt a tingle go through my crotch. Whoa.

Harley took them and sat down on a leather-padded bench and cradled each boot up onto his knee, heel twisted out, spur metal stuffed over it, strap buckled tight. When he stood up again, it was with two rattles and the resonant clop of a boot heel. It took him two paces to get the hang of walking in spurs. I've mentioned I actually rode horses for a while, right? Everyone walks like that. Even girls, even the most energetic country boys. You put spurs on, and you'll clop like you're crossing a saloon to settle an old score.

Hawk and I were both mesmerized. Harley didn't otherwise look like a cowboy; the lion seemed kind of foreign to me, in that unbuttoned white shirt and slippery leather jacket, big ruffled dark mane, towering height. All that met up with the almost echoing clop-clatter of his spurred black cowboy boots in a roundabout way, maybe getting back to old westerns by way of Italian spaghetti and Ennio Morricone. Okay, I'm a sucker for Morricone. I always felt a little let-down at Metallica concerts when their intro music cut out into their own mid-life-crisis thrash punk.

"You have a fantastic house, Mr. Kirsch," Harley said, slowly taking his own tour of the split-walkout ranch house. The wolf pushed himself up forward and screwed around with showing the lion the place. I had a funny feeling that they'd been over earlier, and it was all a show. Hawk wouldn't have gone to Harley's place. He'd have laughed it off, only for the lion to come and knock on his door. I knew it. If Hawk obeyed Harley, I'd wet myself. What a pathetic wolf, and _he_ had me under his thumb? That gave me an actual clutch of unhappiness.

We ended up in the basement rec room, which gave me a bit of a shock. He'd upgraded it in a way since I'd been there, from the place where he let me crank up and rock out (with the $13,000 guitar he'd bought me) to a deeply luxurious sinful den. Well, luxurious if it's 1983 and you just landed some fat wad of cash from a series of well-executed day trades, dick hard from the conquering financial prowess that lets you get coke to snort off the couch that cost fifteen grand. Hell, if that room was yours, you could buy ten grams of coke with the change you pull out of the cushions.

The room had a big stone fireplace and huge picture windows. I froze. "Don't worry, no one's back there. I have five acres. Most of it's undeveloped. No one's around for a thousand feet at least on each side," he said, putting an arm on my shoulder. "You got a bike now? That's real riding gear. You even dumped it once, didn't you?" He dusted at my shoulder.

"I was in the parking lot," I said, remembering the sheer embarrassment I'd felt when I knocked it over. Jasek was so nice to me, but I didn't feel a romantic pang; I just felt a little creeped out. His nice was fawning but platonic.

"Sit down, Mr. Kirsch," Harley said, turning and facing us with a rustle of tooled metal. "Right here." Harley motioned a gloved hand to another one of those fantastically square sofas.

Hawk did just that, adjusting his coat right before he sat down, boot pulled up again. He wasn't too concerned about me seeing his hard dick curve in that fine garment leather, as he stroked at the instep of his boot.

"Mr. Sterling, you are now a guest in his house. You also seduced this wolf, despite the treatment he gave you in the past. I may also have been a bit excessive earlier, when I came here to investigate what you said he did." So that's why he wanted me to come over a bit later! Duh. He needed some time of his own. I wonder what they did? "I believe he came in your ass, and intended me to fuck you, then let you suck his own mess off my cock so he could come in your mouth after fucking you. Instead of doing that, he is simply going to come in your mouth, after having fucked you. Get down between his legs. I would suggest you stop paying such close attention to your prized boots, Mr. Kirsch."

I always kind of tried to find the moment that turned me down the path that ended with a situation like that evening. There just wasn't one. That said a whole lot about me, didn't it. I looked at Harley, looked at Hawk. I didn't get that smartass head-cock, but the black lupine did pull his boot down and let his knees spread a little. I sunk down there and gave him a good massage through his leather pants, even leaning in to kiss at the tip of it before starting to open him up. Out came musky black dick, except with _my_ scent on it now. I gagged just as I started mouthing at the head, but covered up the near-retch by slurping the whole thing into my mouth and pulling off to make that wet squelch that men seem to love hearing.

"I suggest you remove that smug expression from your face," Harley said, standing behind me. I couldn't look but I just knew what expression he had on. It was that terrible rotten one from earlier.

"Why? I'm getting what I want. I want to get my dick sucked for real, not shoved through fucking teeth and licked like a candycane." I could feel Hawk lean back, scoot one boot forward, twist and pull to trap me there. I didn't need trapping. Okay, so along with the taste of cum and sweat and a hint of urine and salt and that sour but very arousing taste of uncut dick, there was this hint of bitter earth that made me gag again because I knew it came out of my _ass_, and that was kind of gross. But it was my own gross, so I'd be okay. Besides, he really had a nice dick. The head was like a big, wet mushroom and the flesh was loose enough to suck over it even when he was about to squirt. Just like Harley.

"Yes, you are, aren't you? You want a pony whore to suck you dry so badly that you paid him for the privilege. Except you did not really pay him. You took the money back."

I paused and let Hawk's dickhead slip from my mouth, just slobbering my lips up against the underside of his shaft, even offering a faint sort of snort or nicker or whatever accidental horse noise felt like coming out. Did Harley know? I didn't tell him. I tried to replay the phone conversation in my head, but that made me trance out for a second. Hawk jabbed a toe in my back with a twist of his ankle, and I dove right back down. He had a mean look on his face, so maybe he didn't say. That means Harley came to the conclusion all on his own. Smart lion!

"Yeah, well, he said he's not a whore anymore, so I thought that was rude, you know?" While he said that, I wrapped my riding-gloved hand around his balls and gently tightened a curling grip around the base of the sac. Then, I milked them down a little. That made the wolf's breath catch. "Jesus, okay, I'm sorry about that, too. I'm sorry about everything. I'm sorry I interrupted your fucking night somehow, but at least I'm getting my dick sucked. All you did is beat off and shoot it backwards fifteen fucking times while calling me a bad dog."

Shoot it backwards? Shoot it ba.. oww. I've done that before! _That's_ what Harley did? That's how he pissed cum all over me? Maybe I could make Hawk do it...

Harley crouched down behind me, fetish leather creaks now with an added metallic jangle as any motion made the spur rowels waggle in their loose fittings. He pulled on my ear and pushed his muzzle into it. "When he comes in your mouth, do not swallow. If I find that you've consumed his filthy treat, you will find yourself alone for a considerable amount of time." Then he stood back up. "I can trace my lineage back to the very first lion, Mr. Kirsch. I suggest you do not try me. You will not enjoy the taste."

"I already had my taste of you," he said, and his dick surged. I pulled, it surged again. I pulled harder on those big, loose, sweaty wolf balls, and he grabbed me by the mohawk. Pull pull pull, pull pull. If I held my head just right, pulling on them dragged his cock back and forth enough that I could just kind of sit there and work his nuts while suckling and not have to bob my head.

"Yes, you did."

Well shit, these two had some kind of history!

"Now, your little pony toy gets another taste of mine. I guess having it shot in his mouth, in his face, all over that pretty chest of his - he likes that, right? I'm not imagining things? I guess all that, for a year, just isn't really enough. You know, he's gotta get it again, and again, and again, and now _you're_ fucking making him." The wolf's words trailed off into a sort of gurgle as he tensed up, and a big blast of bitter salt flooded my mouth. No swallowing! No swallowing. I just slowly worked it all up and down, then tightened my lips and slid off. To make sure Harley knew Hawk had come, I milked his dick for that last little bit. Hawk sounded like he was dying when I did that to his spent cock, but I'm sure he really liked it.

Harley got his hand into my mohawk and wrenched me away from Hawk, then kept pulling. I stood up, yes sir! What happened next was a big blur. He rammed his muzzle against mine for some kind of totally rude, rough kiss, and I fought at it, almost swallowing before I remembered. He pinched my jaw open and started lick-kissing me, scooping... scooping wolf cum out of my mouth? He all but sucked it out into his. Then, he let me go like a wet rag and I backed the fuck out of the way.

Hawk, intrigued, sat forward on the sofa, dick dribbling onto his pants leather. Harley grabbed him by the coat lapels, pulled him up to his feet, then spat in his face. One second, Hawk had his malicious sneer all over dangerous wolf-teeth. The next, he had a mouthful of his own seed spattered on his face. It looked like when you put an egg in the microwave and forget to poke a pinhole in it.

"Mr. Sterling is no longer a prostitute, at least for the general public. You are, for my purposes, the general public. Please remember that. If you decide to forget that, I suggest you consult with Kyle before deciding to torment this fine horse," Harley said, demonstrating me as the fine horse by pulling on my mane and making me shake my head slightly. "Come."

Yes sir! I sputtered and turned when Harley turned, then stalked off with him, two pairs of boots clopping towards the wolf's front door, one pair of those boots carrying an awful jingle with it.

"Uh, shouldn't you-"

"I will return these spurs when I no longer need them for my costume," Harley said. I pressed him with a 'What?' and he said nothing. He simply led me back to his car. His car, not the wolf's, gleaming black curves instead of anachronistic 70's wedge, faint whir and chirble from the motion alarm instead of that jet-plane whine of the turbine converted Aston Martin.

"Harley?"

We weren't stuck in traffic, but we were stuck in Harley's car. He was taking the long way home, glancing past some of the hills up northwest of the city before swooping back down onto the turnpike. I took a rough guess that we were halfway home and decided I was sick of silence.

"Mmh."

"Why do we always end up in your car?"

"I enjoy driving," he said. "Not in traffic, which is why we are so far out."

That didn't really answer my question, but how would Harley know that? "Oh. You know, it's kind of funny," I said, stretching out in the passenger seat, leather gear creaking against the leather seat, with no engine noise or music to stifle it. "I mean, you have... a lot of money, but you're driving me around."

"You do not like to drive cars," he said. I thought he was finished and just turned to look out the window, when he suddenly piped up again. "The very first company that I worked with, after starting up the partnership, was an exotic luxury car dealer. They were sitting on considerable capital and looking to branch out. They were a single dealer. Now, they have a service network and three other dealers up and down the eastern seaboard. If you have anything from a Jaguar on up to a supercar, you will pay this company a handsome sum of money. Considering that success, the CEO became my friend after our contract expired, and now he leases cars to me after he is done using them as extended test drives. As a result, I can easily afford to drive something like this." He patted at the car's dash with a glove stroke that looked coldly possessive. I had no fucking idea how much his car cost, but it couldn't be cheap. It had real wood accents inside.

"Oh." It was my turn to be succinct.

"Perhaps I enjoy controlling things, and driving is control. I control this car. I control moving through space."

"Huh."

"While I am in this rare mood, I think because I am satisfied, I will explain why I act towards that wolf the way I do. He was the first."

I stared at Harley.

"You will surely find it interesting that not only was he the first man I ever fucked, but he is the first man to fuck me. I found it painful, sore for a week, surely reckless considering I had not even touched myself there until that drunken moment. If I recall correctly, it was even in a filthy hotel that rents by the hour. That was also the only time in which he ever entered me. The next time we met was considerably more pleasurable for me."

"I thought... I thought Miriam was your first?" Bringing up that dinner party Harley had thrown made him grunt instantly, but otherwise got no reaction for a few moments. I half wanted to resolve the little life-story conflict, and half wanted to goad Harley. He was fun to goad. Sure, he might get mad, but he never did anything _actually_ hurtful to me.

The lion turned his head to me as we glided to a stop light off the highway. "Miriam is a woman."

"Yeah, she is. Not only that, but she's a lesbian! She has a giggling, but way totally sick-minded Ruski fox for a.. uh, wife? But she said, at that party, that-"

"That was before I met Hawk, while I was still in college. It took me four years to transform from a wild and somewhat destructive young lion into this. I was overflowing, and she offered to catch the drips, so to speak. Unfortunately, I mistook my feline nature for overly quick performance and felt terrible, while she suddenly realized that having a man penetrate her was not exciting." Despite the personal revelations, Harley looked like he always did, stony and regal and like he would growl out the corner of his mouth at any second.

"And you're still friends?"

"Miriam is a rare person, with limitless excitement for life. Several weeks after I left in an embarrassed rush, she invited me to a concert and assured me that it was completely normal to... finish so quickly, for a lion. My family had not spent much time preparing me in that way. They wanted to rise above their leonine traits. Now, I simply embrace them."

"By... by jerking off fifteen times and shooting it back inside? So you can pee it out on me? That was insane. Did it hurt? It was so.. it was such a mess."

"It left you smelling like an entire pride of male lions used you for a mere sex toy," Harley growled. I looked down. He was getting hard. "Of course, only one lion is going to use you as a sex toy. You are not going home tonight, Mr. Sterling."

I didn't go home. I expected Harley to pull me around by my mane when we got to his house, but instead, we had take-out and sat around naked. The reason for sitting around naked? That catnip pot stuff.

"Would you like some? I recall that you were very put off the last time, but this is a completely different blend."

I looked at the pipe he was using. It was... electronic? Oh, it had to be a vaporizer. Jasek used those. "Uhh. Well."

"What I had previously was very strong, and it even gave me some alarming thoughts. This is much nicer." The take-out showed up with a stunning sort of zen chime. "I will leave this here," Harley said, and went for the door. He wasn't naked yet. I was, hiding out of the way in the dining room. That riding outfit got kind of hot, and I felt... dirty when I sweated. Maybe it was the lion come that I hadn't really washed off, but just wiped clean?

I took that fancy metal and glass contraption and gave it a good suck. It wasn't even smoke, just a sort of vapor that came up into my head. Oh god, catnip. Caaaaaaaatnip. Overwhelming catnip smell. It wafted around my face. Oh no, I'm going to smell like catnip. Catnip. Harley's a cat. It's a trick! It's a trick!

Then, instead of that paranoia - which was all natural - taking over, I felt... like how when you take a big deep breath and let it out and feel all happy for a moment. Luckily for me, Harley's reaction was identical. Instead of attacking me like a pony-shaped catnip mousie, he just tore into his food. I tore into mine. Singapore noodles with cabbage and deep-fried crispy tofu with extra-hot garlic sauce. "I hope you don't mind garlic."

The lion looked up at me from his carton with a smudge of brown sauce on his face. I really wanted to lean over and kiss it off, but honestly, if it had meat in it, I'd be totally unpleasant for a while. He took care of it with a wet lick.

"I guess that's a no," I mumbled. Oh god, this take-out was so delicious. It was so spicy and curried and tangy and had all the right crunchy bits and slurping up the noodles left me wanting to lick my lips over and over and over and that was really probably the catnip pot stuff talking and it was really probably just the pot because I am a zebra pony and not a fucking cat.

"I hope I am not disgusting when I eat. As I mentioned before, I am descended from the first generation of hybrids, after the fall. You are descended from the second. Some lions are, as well, but I am not included." Somehow, even when red-eyed like some kind of total monster, Harley still talked like he had a stick shoved up his ass so far that it came out his mouth. I giggled when I thought about it, and he didn't seem to mind.

"So, uh, what's that mean? I mean, uh, being... like that." Oh fuck, oh I just had to put my face in the carton and start pulling noodles out like a horse eating out of someone's hand!

"It means that I am always fighting with my animal tendencies. I will be honest and say that catnip helps ease that considerably. It turns hunting instinct into something amusing and fun, not obsessive and alarming."

Fuck the catnip, after two more hits off that vapor thing, I was totally shitface. There goes the noodles. "Uh, I hope you didn't want some... I... I was making dinner when I called you and I just sort of left it at home."

"I don't mind." Harley stood up abruptly and left the room.

"Uh, hey, uh, what?"

"Stay there. I ruined part of a surprise earlier, when you asked me why I was seemingly stealing from that wolf. I will ruin the rest now. It was not a surprise for you, anyway." Harley disappeared upstairs. What the hell was he talking about?

Fuck talking, I just sprawled out on the sofa. I wanted my hoof boots. I wanted to wear a bridle and harness and have him lead me around the house and make me clop my age out with a hoof.

"Hey, so uh, you've been hanging out with Jasek?" I yelled out. I guess it was kind of stupid to yell, but his neighbors didn't seem to be home, and I suddenly really wanted to discuss Jasek, apparently. Maybe. Mmm. The sofa leather felt so nice and I was naked.

"I have very little in common with him, as a person. His obsessions run deep, but they do drive him," Harley yelled back, amidst a few grunts. "He seems to have a handle on his life, which I admire. I get the impression that... I don't know how to say this... there is something deeply wrong with him, but he tries very hard to go on."

Whoa, that was deep. I mean, sure, that crazy fox thought those Xenomorph aliens were hot. I guess they were kind of sexual, and that artist - Giger? - made them look like penis monsters for a reason. I always figured something had to be up with Jasek, but I didn't expect _Harley_ to actually speak it out. Huh. Then, as I lay on the sofa, I had a thought that made me so happy I was about to cry. No, I did cry a little, squirming around like I was having a literal roll in the hay. Harley was opening up to me! Harley actually liked me!

"I presume you are asking because of how I stuffed myself earlier," the lion called out. He'd been pacing around upstairs, and now the pacing had the dedicated clop of boot heels. I was still stuck on the fact that he was actually expressing himself. "Perhaps he can tell you more about our encounter. It was... interesting. However, I believe I have something new to do to myself. I find it to be a satisfying kind of pain, like having your ears cleaned out at the doctor. Irritating, burning, but penetrating, perhaps... widening?" Harley must've really been feeling that potnip because he was losing his words. Instead of more yap, he just growled.

Those boot clops started coming down the upstairs hallway, and they had _spurs_ this time. No more pacing. He just made for the staircase and started clomping down. Stomp-clack-rattle, slow steps, probably to keep from ruining the floor on the stairs. I felt like I was facing a duel, and I couldn't even see him yet. I started getting paranoid, but not creeping paranoid. Harley was in one of those moods again after eating, maybe his dick was ready again, maybe he wasn't really nice, he was buttering me up, he was a lion, he couldn't control his predatory instincts, he was going to prey on me, he was going to run me down and bite me and satisfy all of his hungers with me!

No, he was going to clomp into the living room dressed like some 1910's gentleman cowboy. Black cape, red silk vest, pale pinstriped shirt, cravat, a fucking top hat, round-lens wire glasses, pinstriped slacks, knee-high stovepipe gunslinger boots in nice inky black, and those spurs. Oh, and a gun belt, this big fancy brown thing with tooled leather and slots for bullets and a revolver the size of fucking texas stuffed into it! His hands hand black leather gloves on, nice and snug, the same ones he was wearing earlier.

"What the hell?!" I laughed even though I didn't want to. Harley just scowled. "I mean, I mean, wow, that looks awesome! I'm not, it's not funny, I'm, you know, it's that... it's that.. you got me high again," I said, pouting as hard as I could. Harley just gave me a look that'd make kittens cry. It definitely wasn't funny. He looked really, really good. Like a real gentleman from the old west. "I had no idea you liked, uh, cowboy stuff. I mean, you wear cowboy boots but they just look good with a suit..."

He paced around the living room, partly to show off his entire body, and partly I think because he liked listening to his spurs. I wouldn't blame him. "I do not really like cowboys. I also do not feel like one. That sort of thing is best left to that wolf. I find that ironic, considering how he sounds like some sort of mafia thug from a mob movie when he talks." When he faced me again, I thought his slacks were going to rip open from his erection. "However, I like this outfit. I am going to a costume ball with Miriam the night before halloween. We all had a little too much wine and Sasha made the comment that we should go as something completely foreign to our upbringing. Since we are both from Connecticut and rich families, we settled on the old west."

If Harley was getting hard, I was getting hard. He had a big, scary gun and sexy boots and that mean scowl and I just knew he was going to do something. He seemed to sense that, because he stomped over and lifted a boot, then stepped on my cock. "Oww! Hey! Quit that!"

"Be glad I am only using the sole," he snarled, twisting his foot, grinding right behind the underside of my flare. It hurt. It burned. It burned and I loved it. I felt completely helpless, heart pounding from salty Chinese food and pot, dick tingling on the inside, desperate for physical attention, desperate to get off again. I didn't grab his leg away - I couldn't grab it away - didn't want to.

"What do you want? What do you want? I'll do whatever you want. If you want to fuck me again, that's okay, or you could come on me, I'll lick your asshole out, I'll polish your boots, I'll-"

"Please shut up," he said, and switched from sole grinding my dickhead to crushing it with the heel, and then his toe lifted up and back towards him even further. He actually rode the spur rowel of his boot up from the middle of my shaft to the tip. It hurt in a totally unique way, crushing my urethra I guess, not puncturing or scratching but leaving definite little prick spots dented in for a few seconds.

I shut up.

"Today, I am trying all sorts of things that I have thought about for some time. I feel... powerful, so I will capitalize on that. Follow me downstairs, Mr. Sterling." Harley pulled his boot away, tromped it down, then stalked off.

Yes, Mr. Benson! I got up and trotted after him, following with soft little pads as he clomped and rattled. He didn't really make a good cowboy - he didn't have the body language or the accent. On the other hand, his outfit was just too cool and he _did_ know how to walk in spurs. And he was Harley, which pretty much beat out just about everything else.

Harley beat me, because I was stoned off my ass and found it more fun to try and tiptoe downstairs on the balls of my feet than to move quickly. By the time I reached him, it was like an instant replay of earlier. Harley, behind a curtain, lashing it aside with a scowl on his face. This time, instead of a wolf tied down to his multi-function weight bench, there was simply Dapper Cowboy Harley and five bundles of rope on the bench. "Oh, rope, you're going to rope me? Of course you're going to rope me! Please don't tie me up, sir, I ain't gon' do no more wrong," I said, clasping at my chest in a terrible imitation of some southern belle.

I couldn't tell if he was pleased or not, because, well, that look. "I see you are trying to trot around like a quad horse. It's a pity you do not have hooves," he said, then scooped the bundles of rope up into his arms like he was stealing them and clutching them to himself. He didn't need to ask me to sit - I came right in and perched on the bench. It was set up for an incline press, so I could recline without sliding off the bottom. Of course, I remembered what happened the last time I was there, but I'd already been-

"Do you remember when you got those hooves that you seem to have forgotten tonight? I enjoyed tanning your ass right here. I believe you enjoyed it as well."

I remembered the searing paranoid I'd had when Harley tied me down and whipped me, yeah. Totally yeah. "Uh-huh."

He untied one of the rope bundles. "Reach around behind that bench, clasp your wrists together. Tonight, I will use the other side of you." As soon as I did what he ordered, he lunged for me, hard enough that I whipped my head to the side and squeezed my eyes shut. He didn't bite me, but he did start tying me up. First, he knotted and wound up my arms in a V behind that weight bench, leaving my chest all heaved up and me completely stuck flat down. Next, rope underneath my pecs, then at my waist. He didn't do anything to my feet, but I couldn't do anything useful with them either. By the time he was done, I was nice and hard, dick leaving a slobber of precum on those freshly-applied ropes at my pecs.

"I would like you to wear those hooves again, Mr. Sterling. Considering that you forgot them, I have an idea where they are. There are two possibilities. I will deal with one of them." He disappeared upstairs and came back down with something clutched in his gloved hand. He prodded at the something, then set it down on a stool. It was... my phone! It clicked to life, then purred as it rang, speakerphone crackling a little.

"Hey Zale." It was _Jasek_.

"Zale is predisposed at the moment, Michael." Geez Harley, at least call him Mike.

"Uh. Well, then who - oh! You're that lion, right? Harley?"

"Yes," Harley said, projecting his voice loud enough for it to get into the phone, otherwise filling the room. He stepped over to me and clutched a gloved hand over my mouth. Mmmph! He clutched harder and I shut up completely.

"What's going on?"

"Your equine friend seems to be in trouble. He is in trouble because he forgot to bring something over when he came to visit." You didn't _ask_ me to bring them, you big - okay, I actually couldn't find my hooves so it wasn't really Harley's fault. "I believe he sees you fairly often, and perhaps he left this item at your house."

"Yeah, he was here on Wednesday."

"Do you know what I'm talking about, Michael?"

There was a pause. I thought maybe Jasek was kind of freaked out or something, but then there was a squeaky sort of noise and a clop, a few thumps. "The only things he left here are those hoof chaps you got him. Wow, are those neat. You wouldn't believe what he-"

"You know where I live, Michael. Bring them to me. Bring anything else you want." Harley, like he always did to me, hung up. That meant he had to let go of my mouth. My lips tasted like leather, and I licked at them, over and over.

"I will go wait for your friend upstairs, Mr. Sterling. I hope you do not have any... stall habits. If I come down here to a slimy, embarrassed horse, you will regret it."

Slimy horse? "Uh, I won't do anything, Harley, I can't do anything, I'm just tied down here, I can't.." I looked down at my dick, at my stomach, at how when I tensed the shaft it'd rise up and then slap down. Harley glared at me. "Yes, Mr. Benson."

He chuffed and took off for the stairs. I just lay on that bench. The fancy designer weed caught up with my and I fell asleep without realizing it.

"Oh wow, he's asleep?"

I was asleep. Well, not really. When I heard those heavy-ass spurred stomps down the stairs, followed by a second set of less-manly bootclops, I came awake. I sleep like a rock usually, but the pot stuff was screwing with my head and I was alert as fast as I fell asleep. Or so I thought. At first, they were on the stairs. Then, two pairs of gloved hands were all over me. Harley's covered my mouth. Jasek's just kind of pet around. Harley had black leather. Jasek had rubber, black and smooth.

I panicked and neighed into Harley's hand and squirmed around, attempting to fight away the hands smothering and grabbing at me. I even kicked, but the two just stepped off to either side.

"Easy, easy, no one's gonna hurt you, big guy," Jasek said, trying to calm my thigh down. No, no no no no no no - okay. "What's up?"

"Mrrpfh." Harley let go of my face. "I dunno I was over here and he already kind of punished me and now he's got me tied down to a bench and he's going to 'use my other side' like you know what he did when he beat my ass real hard when he got me those hooves and made me dress up like a girl so uh I don't know what he's gonna do but he invited _you_ over so it can't be good because you're into stuff like aliens and playing doctor for real and I mean you showed him how to stuff things in his dick! You're like a dick stuffing whore!"

Jasek thought this was hilarious and just laughed at me. Then he stepped back, startled, as Harley pushed him out of the way.

I didn't even see what was coming. Lightning might as well have struck. This ear-splitting crack made me wince down and freeze up. I looked up slowly, and Harley was wielding a bullwhip, braided leather lying limp down on the floor from the handle like a snake. "That's enough, Mr. Sterling," he said.

Jasek looked kind of awkward but pleased, looking between Mr. Lion and myself. "Hey, lemme go grab my bag." Jasek excused himself and trotted upstairs, returning in a few seconds with a big army duffel. He looked a bit strange, wearing one of his leather riding suits, the same model I had - we both got new ones at the same time from the same custom shop. His seemed kind of tight. Maybe he'd put on weight, although I'd just seen him on Wednesday, duh... after he set the bag down, he provided a visual explanation. He started unzipping and climbing out of that fitted leather, only to expose gleaming red rubber. He had his 'Batman' suit on, or at least one of them, deep black cherry sculpted rubber stuff with fancy long black gauntlets and tall boots. Maybe the other one was black. I forget. How the hell could he wear a full rubber suit under a full bike suit and not sweat himself faint?

Harley seemed amused, sniffing at the air as that chemical rubber scent started to fill up the room. With Jasek missing only the trademark cowl, and Harley dressed in period gear, everything just seemed kind of weird. Or I was still stoned.

"Well, you look like a cowboy, and he's a horse. Looks like you've been roping him up? He needs more horse parts. Like these," Jasek said, bending down and rifling through that bag of his. He took out a pile of stuff, but only stood up holding the hoof chaps. "You take a leg. By the way, that's a totally cool outfit. I didn't know you liked cowboy stuff."

"It is for a costume ball next week. I had the urge to wear it all of a sudden," Harley said, looking somewhat cross as Jasek fumbled around with the heavy leather gear. Nonetheless, he started to help. All of that heart-pounding paranoia melted away, and I just lay there, lifting my legs up. Somehow, things seemed comforting. Maybe it was because the two didn't seem to be into some kind of particular Scene, they were just fooling around. Jasek had introduced me to a pile of stuff that way, even a few things I'd 'done' before when Hawk forced them on me. He was like a nerd showing off some latest accomplishment. Jasek was gentle, soothing, if a little sensual about helping fit my leg and foot down into that long leather hoof-capped sheath. Harley was rough but effective.

"It's a great costume. That cape really makes it, I think. It makes you look bigger. Kind of top heavy. More leonine. You really have this attitude about you, you might as well run with it," Jasek said, helping lace over the ankle of the boot, then fooling with the 'chaps strap' at the top that kept them from falling off.

Harley's response was a dark grunt.

"Uh, okay. So, anyway, I think you need a bit. You're a horsey, you need a bit. Mr. Benson?"

Harley's attitude changed and he gave Jasek a stare. "If you turn around behind you, Michael, you'll find a considerable amount of gear." He was referring to one of those IKEA bookshelf things, full of little slide out bins.

The fox turned around and started rifling through things, rubber gear squeaking and making that sort of fluttery sound. Harley started to stroke me. His eyes were searing red again. Oh shit, he'd done more of that stuff upstairs! He stroked my thigh, feeling down to one of those hooves as I stretched my leg, then came back up to cradle my balls. I felt like a piece of meat. I felt like that time in The Pit's sub-basement where all the hard shit happened, when those guys came up and came all over me, before I got.. before Kyle...

"So you did a crazy number on Kyle, huh? I got a text message from him," Jasek said, as if it was no big deal, while he was looking for just what he wanted.

Harley stared and stopped moving his gloved hand on me. "Yes."

Jasek didn't see fit to turn around. "I think he's been going kind of nuts lately. It's probably good that you smacked his nose, you know? I don't really hang out with him anymore. He had me over once, and I thought he was going to do stuff to me, but he wanted me to watch him tie up and torture this other guy. I don't really know if the other guy was totally into it, you know? I wasn't so sure about that. I bet you a hundred bucks that something happened to him when he was in the Marines. Here we go!" The rubberized fox turned around and had a big fancy bridle harness in his hands. It had a 'bit', but it was really a meaty ball-gag.

I whinnied and struggled, which prompted a sour look from Harley and made him step back. Jasek came over, shuffling the bridle straps around, then fitted it onto my head. Wait, wait, waitmrfh! I panicked and threw my head around, chest heaving as I tried to work those rope knots loose. No safeword! No safeword! Jasek just buckled the whole thing on, tightening the bit part back into my mouth. It was weird, like the bit parts yanked my lips back but then the ball filled up my mouth. It was comfortable, in a humiliating, drool-inducing way. Still, no safeword! That's the kind of stuff Kyle does, like what Jasek just said!

"Hey, I got something to show you. Did Harley, you know, tell you what he saw me about? He wanted to learn about sounding." Jasek changed his tune and took out his cellphone. Harley shot him daggers but didn't stop him. The fox pulled up a photo album and started flicking through it. Hah! Harley in his business attire, increasingly rumpled as he opened his shirt, then Jasek's gloved hand cradling lion dick, then stuffing a pretty imposing sound into it, working it deep, a big arc of piss coming out, then eventually a big slobber of creamy spunk as the toy just left. All the while, the photographed lion had the worst rotten looks on his face, apparently directing them at the camera. He flicked away from the photo program and took his phone back, prodded at it, then showed me a notepad app: "Say 'orange' if you can talk, grunt three times twice if you can't."

I sighed and settled down. Jasek was actually considerate! Not that much of a surprise. I feigned rolling my eyes and huffing, looking over at Harley. He slipped that bullwhip off its belt hook and unfurled it with a slap. Okay, panic time again. Was that how he was going to use my front side? Was he going to whip it? Bullwhips are dangerous! I kicked at the weight bench's front legs with a few hard, sharp clacks.

"I knew a draught horse who sounded himself with a bullwhip. He'd shove the cracker in and then the whole braid or whatever you call the long part. He could just about get the handle to start going in before it hurt, he said. It was crazy."

"You have strange friends," Harley said. Jasek just shrugged and chuckled.

"I'm strange. So, this is what you wanted to try," Jasek said, and crouched down again. He came back up with a whole pile of things, which he set down on my abs. One of them was too big to set on me and he took it back off, then grabbed a stool over. It was some kind of electronic control box, like a piece of test equipment from a lab with a few buttons on it. "He said that wolf did it to him once, and he's been wanting it again, and you want to see it, so hey. Here we go." Aside from that box, the stuff sitting on me was: a metal buttplug, some kind of cockring, and a weird black rubberized sort of... it looked like those wire cages that come on the top of a champagne bottle to keep the cork in. Just like one, except black rubbery stuff, and this three inch stalk that stuck down the middle. It had two leads that came off of it, unlike the single lead for the other two toys.

Harley reached out and took that dickhead cage thing to look at it. "Of course, this one seems to go inside. Not much of a surprise.."

"Trust me, this is a total head-trip. That's the bigger one, I have a smaller one, too. We can try that on you once he's empty," Jasek said, talking only to Harley. All I could think of was being strapped onto a sort of machine, or weird dungeon chair, or whatever it was, while I was at Hawk's house. The wolf had this crazy outfit on, like full biker gear with a wolf-shaped helmet, and he fucked me for an hour straight while this thing kind of shocked at my dick.

Harley's response to Jasek's idea was just a grunt.

Jasek got out a tube of something and squirted it onto the buttplug, then greased it around with his fingers. "So, no touching him, even though you have those gloves on. I'm insulated, you aren't." The fox then took that plug and started pushing it up into me. Cold cold cold cold cold! I brayed out and squirmed as that cold metal shoved into my hole. I thought he was going to just ram it right in, but no, he was nicer than that. He gently swirled it around, twisted, prodded it in and let my muscles squeeze it back out.

A minute of that, and when he nudged harder, the whole thing slid in. It was shaped sort of like a dick, with a knobby head and more of a slender shaft, then a bulge and narrow spot at the base. When it was in, it went right to my prostate and I let out a big whinny into that gag. I slobbered all over my face, but I didn't care. Fuck electricity, just having that plug in felt _awesome_. My muscles tugged on it and pushed it right into the right spot.

I looked over to Harley. He was simply standing, hands clutched in front of his belt, ears up and attentive out of their little notches in the top hat's box. He looked like some kind of chaperone, like he was there to ensure the quality of Jasek's work or something equally humiliating and distant.

"This control box here is pretty fancy. Normally, you have two-pole inputs. Plus and minus, like a battery. It's not really plus or minus, I guess hot and neutral like your house wiring. You either have a toy with two connectors on it, like this one-"Jasek held up the 'dickhead cage', "Or you have a single pole one, like the buttplug that he seems to like. This box has four outputs, and you can hook each two up as three-pole. Two hot connectors and a common ground. I can't explain what that means, or rather, it's something you just need to feel. Anyway, what I'm going to do is..." He took the cockring and strapped it on below my balls, helping plump my shaft up real good. "This is going to be the 'ground' for two outputs. This-" He slathered the dickhead cage with lube stuff and then just slid it on. I brayed out and squirmed, expecting it to hurt since he was kind of rough and that thing just stabbed right in! It didn't hurt, though, beyond a kind of sexual burn. "This is going to stimulate around his dickhead, and then also inside it, but on separate circuits."

Harley just kept staring on, nodding as Jasek explained. Maybe he didn't care. Maybe he did. I couldn't decide which would be worse. If he didn't care and decided to shock me someday, I'd be in for a rough ride. If he did care, then he'd just give me a more carefully-crafted rough ride.

"Don't worry, I'll start off at Zero," Jasek said, and poked at the control box. I could read what its LCD said: Thrust, Tri-Stim." He started turning up the knob for 'A'. What was A? A WAS MY DICK!!! This wasn't really whatever Hawk had. This was a completely different dimension. I'd started going soft when Jasek got serious about hooking me up, because it was honestly scary. Electrodes? How are electrodes sexy? When that jolt hit me, I was expecting a shock like touching a doorknob. The thing Hawk had just kind of milked at my dick like this trembling sensation. This thing, this infernal thing, was like someone drove a vibrator into my flesh, like inside the actual fleshy bits, and then turned it on hard. The feeling hit around my dickhead and down to my balls, then morphed into my pisshole.

"Do you think he enjoys that?" Harley said, probably because I screamed into the ball-bit.

"Well, he was going soft and now he's hard, so if he doesn't enjoy it he's got some weird reflexes. Let's just put it this way, Mr. Benson. Your pony here is going to come. He's going to come because you want him to, and because I want him to, and because he wants to. And, aside from all that, with this rig on him, he _will_. See, this thing is all computerized. It's smart. It can alternate that buzz sort of jolt through all the outputs. Let me turn up the B channel."

Jasek might as well have been a recording engineer or something. He just casually twisted a second knob on the control box, and that brought in that ass plug. My guess was that the whole thing was coordinated for some electrical reason - the same kind of humming buzz hit me in the asshole, then throbbed up to my dickhead, then down into my pisshole, then back to my ass. After a few moments, it wasn't such a shock, just a massively weird sensation, very arousing but yet extremely frustrating. Like that milking thing Kyle put on me, except not so scary. Being milked seemed... it was too animal. This? This was like some scientist doing an experiment. One that felt good.

"This is the really fun part. You can remote-control this whole thing. Don't push the other buttons, but you can push this one," Jasek said, handing Harley something that looked like a little keyfob for a car alarm. "It's the surge button. It goes up two steps in power from whatever it's set on, and uses a different waveform."

Harley looked at the keyfob like it was some sort of squirming rodent, then squashed the button. Not only did it get more powerful, but all three 'parts' hit at once and I thought my cock was going to explode. Not like from semen, but just explode like it would blow up and fly off and shake to bits. When he let go of the button, I slumped back and dropped my head to the side, then let out a big splurt of drool. "This kind of control is very pleasing," he said, and hit the button again, for just a second. "More than I would expect. You said this will force him to come?" Harley looked towards Jasek. I stared at his gloved finger, waiting for the twitch, waiting for him to squeeze down on that button.

"Well, if I turned up the power all the way, yeah, it probably would. You can make someone ejaculate electrically, and I mean force it, but it's painful. If you have to do it medically, you need to anaesthetize the person."

No no no no no no anaesthesia no weird stuff like that no no no no no! I think all of my noises and struggling gave off the wrong impression, because I was still hard. While the two of them were talking, the damn thing was still zapping me. Jasek started absently adjusting some sort of control knob that messed with the rate. So there were big pulses, and then the actual hum/buzz/whatever, and the knob did something complicated to how it all related together. I had a moment of clarity where I imagined the fox sitting at a computer and designing some sort of perfect waveform and uploading it to the e-stim box. I'd read about that. What a nerdy thing to do. If I want to come, I just get my dick out and go to it.

"I do not want to _hurt_ him, Michael."

Jasek nodded. "Okay. Zale, I want you to grunt three times when it gets too hard. Okay?" I nodded. He started turning up the power. It started to hurt all of a sudden and I burst out with some grunts. He backed it off three notches. "There. Now you can zap him hard all you want and it won't break him."

Harley's response was a grunt. He leaned over and started unbuckling my bridle. "I want to take this off. Mr. Sterling should be able to speak."

Jasek shrugged and helped extricate all those damn straps from my head. I spat the bit out, then licked at my lips. "Thanks. I was thinking you two were going to do something-"

Harley covered my mouth and I found myself kissing glove leather. "Neither of us is going to hurt you. I would say that knocking you out and torturing you until you ejaculate is 'hurt'. Perhaps Michael enjoys that sort of thing-"

Jasek raised his gloved hand. "Guilty."

"But I do not. I prefer more subtle, willing torture. For example, you are tied up and your pleasure is at my mercy with this." He showed me the button. "I bet if I coordinate myself, you will have no choice but to get off. If I do not do anything, you will lie there." Yeah, lie there with this crazy stuff shocking my junk. "Do you remember what you told me the last time I had you down here, as a punishment? Not after that party. Before that."

Oh boy, did I. "Harley, come on. Just... I'm sorry I tried to seduce Hawk. I should have just told him to fuck off." Jasek looked a little confused when I said that. Maybe he didn't know what happened? I assumed Harley told him. "I won't let people try to pay me for sex again." I rolled my eyes and put on some teenager apathy for effect.

"Tell him what you told me last time, Mr. Sterling."

Sigh. "I.... I love you." I said it with a look towards Harley. Jasek's ears perked up, eyes widened. I don't think he thought I meant it towards him.

"The other thing you said," Harley said, words slowed down to a patronizing menace. He shifted his body with this subtle creak of everything, like some movie foley sound effect of a horse moving around in its harness. His thumb moved off that button. No. Denied.

What other thing? "What other thing?"

He glared at me.

That other thing. I inhaled. "Can you, can you stop that thing? It's distracting."

"The red button," Jasek said, and Harley pushed it. No more dick zapping! The fox fiddled around with the control box, but nothing more came out of it. Maybe he was just playing with it. Or going on the fucking internet with it, it had enough knobs and buttons and a screen.

I inhaled again. "When I was maybe thirteen, I had this.. I was just really into sex of any kind, and I started learning and experimenting and all this shit." Harley just stood there, but Jasek pulled up a stool and sat. Seeing some guy in a near replica of a batman outfit - albeit with no cowl and a significantly more sexual codpiece - just sitting on a stool to listen to a story was fucking weird. "I wondered what it'd be like to dress up in women's clothing. Well, I didn't really have any female friends, so... so I had to go through my mom's closet."

Harley and Jasek exchanged looks, Jasek's question and amused, Harley's cold enough that the fox leaned back a little and then looked back over to ye rope-bound pony toy. I continued. "She had these really tall stiletto heel boots, black leather, real fancy. I hadn't really gone through my growth spurt so my feet were still kind of small. Oh god, I put them on and I was so hard. So, I found some of her stockings and put those on, then these satiny panties, then these opera gloves, and then... then I went and put on some of her lipstick as well. They were out for the night, I mean my mom was out, my dad was on some training trip for his job. So I went up to my room and started to beat off. I don't really remember why I didn't hear her coming, but my mom came home soon and just kind of barged into my room and caught me."

Jasek coughed into a rubbered hand. Then he did it again. Then, he just apologized and sputtered out laughing. My face heated up, but so what? "Yeah. It was pretty... it was... I think it's funny now, but I was horrified then."

"What did she say? Was she mad?"

"She chewed me out pretty bad. She gave me the big spiel about how I had to respect other people's property and how masturbating was going to keep me from being able to have an orgasm in a woman and how I was being a jerk and all this stuff. But.. but.. that was after she told me to finish and closed the door."

"Get out."

"No, she did! She really did! When I was... done, I opened the door and she was standing there, arms crossed, looking like she was gonna kick me! She's the pony, she kicked a lot. Not hard, just like you know, elbowing, but kicking instead. My dad never did that stuff. I don't think he liked being a zebra."

"Your mom made you finish jerking off in her sexy stuff? While she stood there?" Jasek repeated, in case for some reason Harley didn't actually get it the first time. "Really?"

"How did it make you feel, Mr. Sterling?" Harley asked, glaring at me through his faux glasses. He looked so maturely serious.

I shrugged against the ropes. "Embarrassed. I mean, I... I had to finish. She was standing out there. She kept reminding me, she'd like tap the door and stuff." Oh no, was this my childhood? Was that why, was-

"I am sure it made you aroused, made you come. Didn't it? It made you feel like this." Harley and Jasek nodded. No, no, they planned it, they planned it! Harley punched the ON button again, on that little remote control. I cannot explain what buzzed into my dick and balls and up into my asshole. Maybe if you took the most stimulating handjob you ever had, and mixed it with sounding, and then added in a good hard prostate milking, but amplified that by about a thousand, you would have... and then it stopped. "Was that not enough for you, Mr. Sterling?"

I was about to answer, to croak something out, when it hit again. It was a very slow repeat, this massive everything-clenching throb with an orgasmic buzz as part of it. When it ebbed away, it came back faster, then a little faster, then faster. Please, please, please, I must've begged out loud because Harley covered my mouth with his gloved hand.

Suddenly, it wasn't fun any more. I wasn't in control of my body. The electrical zap was using me, violating me, faster and faster, until my muscles couldn't anticipate it and just quivered, until I was screaming into his hand, tears running down my face, lashing my head back and forth, kicking and kicking and kicking and kicking.

Jasek had his dick out - I didn't see him do it, because I could barely see. I felt like I was electrocuted. He had his dick out and he was beating off, grunts turning into whimpery noises, then that weird female squeal that foxes make when extra-extra excited, and then he came all over my chest.

Harley mashed the surge button on that little control thing and I arched my back hard enough that the room felt like it shook. I came, and it hurt so deliciously that all I felt was soul-crushing climax. He mashed it again, just as seed spurted out, and then again, again, and then I was lying in absolute silence. I didn't have the usual post-orgasmic burn, just this weird quivering feeling inside me, like I'd been punched in the stomach.

Then, I heard a drip. A wet splat. Then another. I turned my head, and a huge slop of horse semen hung off one of the weight bar arms on the bench, landing on the concrete floor. I tilted my head all the way back: the wall was absolutely splattered.

"This is for the effort," Harley said, and slapped something down onto my chest, right into Jasek's puddle. I didn't really see what it was. "I have decided that I would like to sleep alone tonight. I trust your vulpine friend to take care of you. Perhaps you can go wind down somewhere in town."

Harley turned and spur-clomped towards the stairs, then up to the first floor, then up to the second.

"That's a thousand bucks," Jasek said, leaning over me as if money was a curious thing, more curious than me tied down, balls drained from the fucking electric chair, his own dick drooling onto his rubber-clad leg. "Wow. He pays you like that all the time?"

"Not that much," I said, squirming and looking over my shoulder until Jasek started taking the ropes off. "But more than I'd ever get from people before. I don't really know why. I've been trying to figure it out."

"Maybe he's sorry."

Maybe he is.

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