The Bigger They Are...
The Bigger They Are by Rekhit
Any chance for Tristan to change his mind had long since passed and the bull was resigned to fate. The huge bovine was naked, tied with strong rope to a chair; arms behind him with the wrists bound and rope going around his huge bulging chest, ankles tied to the legs and more going around his thick calves and thighs. Despite his predicament, his huge cock stood at full attention, jerking slightly with his thunderous heart beat. A bead of pre appeared at the pointed tip, slowly drooling down the pink length.
This situation was worlds away from what the bull was used to. At the age of 50 he was a successful boss of a truck driving firm, having been a trucker himself for many years he decided to set up his own business, which had proven quite lucrative. The money was good, the hours decent and it gave Tristan chance to work on his impressive body and reap the rewards of his long hours both on the road and in an offence.
He kept good care of himself; only a few strands of grey in his chin beard and head fur belied his real age. His physique was as big and impressive as it had been when he first started working out at the age of 18. Huge slab pecs crowned by pierced nipples, tight abdominal muscles, thick arms and legs, he was grade A beef if there ever was such a specimen.
Tristan was a dominant through and through, both in the office and in the bedroom. He'd been married 4 times, divorced all 4 time as well and had almost a score of offspring. Still, he wasn't without lovers, both male and female, though he had started to lean more towards males in his later years.
But there was something missing, something had been nagging at his mind for many years now. There was a need deep inside his soul that craved something, something from his point of view was unspeakable. Through out his adult life Tristan had been the strong dominant person, making others bend to his whim, both in and out of the bedroom. And yet there was this strong urge for him to submit. He often wondered what it could be like to do that to someone whose will was stronger then his.
It had become such an obsession that it had started to affect his work and his life. Shortly after his 50th birthday Tristan decided enough was enough. If he didn't do it now he would never do it and it would be something that ultimately he could regret. When Tristan committed to something he did it.
So he took some time off and booked into a hotel in the city under an assumed name and went to The Parlour. It had taken some research in the Internet but eventually the bull had found what he'd been looking for. The Parlour was a sex club but unlike most this wasn't for dancing and meeting. It was designed for a specific purpose; to match up dominant masters and submissive slaves, either for a one off fling, long term commitment or, most importantly, to allow those who were inexperienced with being submissive to be with introduced to such a life.
Tristan was hesitant to call up and book a session. But it was now or never. He rang up, paid for a day session with an experienced master and began to count the days.
The Parlour was nothing more then a door; hidden down an alley and down a flight of steps, Tristan thought at first he'd come to the wrong place. He pressed a grimy buzzer and the door opened, letting him into a plush purple and red reception area. The inside contrasted heavily with the dirty outside. It looked more like an expensive hotel.
He gave his name and a male peacock dressed in silk led him to a room. It was an S&M heaven, with more toys and accessories Tristan thought possible. He had opted for the naked and bound choice and stripped, allowing the peacock to tie him to the chair. Now he awaited his "master" for the day.
The door opened and Tristan blinked, his mind not quite able to comprehend who had walked in, dressed from head to toe in leather. "G-George?!"
The fox walked over and slapped the bull. It wasn't a hard slap but the stern look made the bull snort. "I am "master" to you slut." He was slapped Tristan again. "And that is for snorting."
Tristan couldn't believe it! His master for the day was none other then George, the lowly intern and all round dog's body at his trucking company. The grey fox was a little over the age of 19, wore thick glasses and almost always had his ears plastered against his head in submission.
He barely reached 5ft and was the smallest most pathetic thing Tristan had ever seen. He jumped at his own shadow. The bull would have fired him long ago, except that George's organisational skills were impressive. And the fox could make a killer cup of coffee. Tristan enjoyed bellowing orders at the fox and watching that fluffy grey tail tuck between his legs.
Gone was the air of nervousness. In its place was the stern look and sneer of a confident leather top, a master to whom utter obedience was called for and anything else would not be tolerated. The glasses were no where to be seen and the ears stood up tall and proud, the tail wagging slightly out of the back of the leather trousers George wore.
He undid his jacket and threw it to the floor, revealing a short sleeved leather shirt. In the breast pocket was the biggest cigar Tristan had ever seen. He watched as George took it out, punched the end and expertly lit it, grinning savagely as smoke trickled out from around his teeth. He produced a collar and placed it around Tristan's neck, breathing thick cigar smoke into the captive bovine's face. "Time to play." The bull's cock throbbed painfully, he was so turned on.
Tristan was used. Tristan was abused. He had a ball gag stuffed into his mouth, he was blind folded and he was made into the leather fox's toy. Around the base of his cock and balls a thick heavy metal ring was placed, keeping his cock hard and the pressure tight. He would soon discover its purpose; he couldn't cum with the ring there and by the time he was allowed his cock stung painfully. When he was finally allowed to cum it shot almost to the ceiling, the biggest load and the strong orgasm of his life.
His cock was milked, slapped, stroked, had electrodes attached and was electronically stimulated until Tristan was crying, begging to cum but was denied. His virgin hole was explored, by a finger, a dildo. It was worked on roughly, deeply until eventually George's fist slid without effort past the heavily stretched rim. A massive plug was stuffed up him, straps going around his waist to keep it secured.
His ass was spanked, his back lightly whipped, his muscles rubbed down with oil and stroked and kissed. The gag was taken out and a hard fox cock shoved in its place. Tristan was forced to deep throat the cock until it came heavily down his throat. But it didn't end there.
Arms secured to the ceiling a parachute was attached to his sac and weights hung from it, creating a gentle throbbing sensation through his loins. Metal rods were pushed down his urethra until that was too was stretched and throbbing. One rod was attached to the e-stim machine and Tristan bellowed from the pleasure. He orgasmed so many times but nothing more then a trickle came out, making his balls ache painfully.
All the time George berated him, calling him a slut, a whore, a cum bucket. The fox took pleasure in cumming over Tristan's face and beard, telling the bull that he was in charge now, he was the boss. George lit another big cigar and pressed his lips to Tristan's, exhaling heavily into the bull's virgin lungs, keeping his mouth closed so that the bull had to exhale from his snout. Eventually he gagged the bull, stuffing the cigar into the front and forcing the bovine to smoke it.
He was forced to submit to the smaller fox, to go down on his knees and lick the heavy boots cover George's feet. The fox barked orders, made the bull perform silly tricks and if he didn't do it fast enough he got a riding crop against the back or the ass. Tristan called him master and was forced to admit to the dominant smaller anthro that he was nothing more then a dirty slut and a slave for his cock. Tristan felt utterly humiliated that the anthro he virtually bullied at work had brought him so low.
Tristan had no idea how long it had gone on for, but he was sore all over. The final act had Tristan on all fours with George's cock up his stretched hole. The fox growled and fucked him hard, dragging claws through the flesh of his rump until George buried his knot into the bovine's ass and came once more. So stretched was the ass that the fox's knot simply popped out again without effort.
"You've been a good slave for me today," George said sternly. "But there is one last thing." Fully dressed back in his leathers, he stood over the panting bull and took of the ring. "Cum for me." Tristan did so, bellowing loudly. As he did, George let go of his bladder and pissed heavily on the bull, soaking his fur. He grabbed a horn and stuffed his peeing cock into the bovine's snout, forcing him to drink some before pulling away, turning him over and pissing over his back. With his bladder almost empty, George buried his cock once more up the puffed and gooey ass of his boss, filling him with the last of his urine. "You're mine now pig," George snarled, putting his cock away. "Don't you fuckin' forget it!" He removed the collar and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Tristan was left on his own, on his back in a warm puddle of fox piss. His body ached every where and he panted heavily. He was bruised, battered, stretched and stank of the urine and cum.
And all he could think of was when he could do it all over again.