The Interview (M/M)
Hawk now owns the biggest fetish club in town. He needs a bouncer, and only a redneck buck will do.
The Interview by H. A. Kirsch http://www.hakirsch.com Copyright 2011 Rufus "Bubba" Varmint used with permission from Red Swampwulf (http://www.swampwulf.com)
Hawk pulled up into the alley behind The Pit and found someone waiting for him. A tall whitetail buck with a full rack, a scruffy dark goatee formed from the black band around his muzzle tip, dark headfur that merged into mutton chops, a white undershirt, fashionable cowboy-cut jeans. He had hooves, which made the wolf stare for a moment. The buck was smoking a cigarette and looking for all the world like a redneck hustler. A mean one.
The wolf slid his bike up into the covered lock spot, then cut the hammering engine. "Hey, you know the rules, no street hustling," Hawk growled, stepping off the bike and rising up. The mere thought that he was about to have a challenge made him feel irritated but aroused. His bike leathers were heavy and real, but an erection was an erection.
"Ain't hustlin', came up in the front an' some fox tol' me to come back here an' wait for you." The buck took his cigarette out, snapped most of the ash off, then dropped it and hoofground it into the pavement.
Hawk narrowed his eyes. "Oh yeah? I was expecting business casual, maybe even a suit."
"I ain't gonna be a salesman," the buck said. "You ain't got a business suit on either, Mr. Wolf."
The wolf stepped past him, unlocked the back door, then grabbed the deer by the arm. "Get in here, let's go up to my fucking office." The back hallway led past a utility closet and a freight elevator. Hawk dodged into the elevator. Once both were in, he started it on its whirring path up. "Anyone who wears a business suit on a bike is a stupid shit."
"Figured you'd have some fancy car after I read 'bout you in the paper."
"I do. I felt like tingling my balls so I took my bike out today instead. So you're here about that job, huh? You feel man enough to throw guys out on their ass?"
"This the interview or you jus' chattin' me up?'
"Guess you've never heard of an elevator speech," Hawk growled, and kept his mouth shut until they reached the top floor. Hawk keyed the door open; opened not into a utility hall but a business-like waiting room. He pushed ahead and went straight into his office; the buck followed with the hollow clud of real hooves. The wolf sat down at his desk and folded his computer screen down so it wasn't a distraction. "What's your fucking name?" Hawk said, leaning back in his chair, gear complaining with a pleasant, leathery creak.
The buck pulled a guest chair over and sat. "Name's Rufus Varmint. You can call me Bubba if you want, Rufus is all fancy pants. I gotta tell you that I'm a convicted felon but I've been off parole for 'bout three years now."
Hawk decided to use some assholitude to find out just why a _buck_ wanted to bounce at a gay club. "Yeah? You thinking about going back? Half the people who pay cover here would fight to get some prison fucking."
Bubba frowned. "The hell's wrong with you? Half your people are dumb shits then."
"Yeah? Why's that?"
"You got any brains or you jus' got sharp teeth, Mr. Wolf?"
"Last name's Kirsch."
Bubba chuffed. The sound was like someone spraying off a fire extinguisher, loud enough that it rang against the walls and made Hawk flip his ears back for a second. "You wanna mess with me bein' in prison for a while? Fine, well, I don't think I wanna work for you. You're prolly gonna jew me."
"I'm not fucking jewish, but I am German. So tell me about your time there. Tell me how you managed to survive being a fucking white-tailed buck in prison. You got a built-in white flag right above your shit hole. So what was it, you were dealing Rut, and you got busted, and you put up a fight and some cop fell on your rack? That's classic." Hawk pushed up out of his chair and started pacing, eventually ending up at a dark cherry minibar. He took out a couple of glasses and poured scotch in both, then brought them back to the desk with a thump.
"The hell kind of interview's this, anyway?"
"Tell me about the worst fucking days in your life, drink my whiskey, and stop being a country bitch," Hawk snarled, then swiped his glass up, tilting it so he didn't slosh it. He downed half at once. "Obviously you didn't do something that fucking bad or you wouldn't be in my office looking to get a job. Obviously you survived prison because you can sit down in a fucking chair."
"I started off the bitch 'cuz you always start off the bitch, unless you're a psycho an' I ain't a psycho," Bubba said, putting his man frown back on. His eyes looked a bit pained. "Wasn't top dog when I left 'cuz you can't do that if you ain't a meater. But it's easy gettin' the upper hand, sir, when you got a big dick."
"Yeah, no shit," Hawk said, taking the rest of his whiskey. "You gonna drink that? You watched me pour it, I'm not gonna drug you and fuck you. I'm not that kind of wolf," Hawk lied, at least about being that kind of wolf. The scotch was expensive and clean.
"I ain't foolin..." Bubba looked for something else to call the wolf.
"Hawk."
"The hell you named after a bird for? I ain't foolin'. Figure you're faggot, right?" Bubba stood up and gave his left thigh a smack. Hawk looked there; the buck's bulge ran halfway down to his knee. "Part hoss. I could wreck the biggest guy there. Make him cry like a lil' baby." Bubba finally picked up the drink, slurped off of it. No cough, no sputter. "Nice shit."
"Is that why you're applying to be a bouncer here? Because you have a big dick? I don't think that's gonna help you out. The solution to 'someone's being a drunk jackass' isn't 'fuck them until it runs out their mouth', it's 'throw their ass out', or maybe 'hurt them enough that they remember it tomorrow and don't feel like finding out what happened to put the hurt there.'".
"No sir, I ain't gonna fuck all your little gay boys, I ain't a faggot. Someone I know told me this is a busy bar an' you split tips."
"Split tips? That's bullshit," Hawk said, wrinkling his face up, curling his lips back. It didn't faze Bubba one inch. "I got an idea. How about I show you what kind of fucked up place I run, and you can decide if you really want to work for me. I'm not stupid. I know who you are. You're a tough shit. I need tough shits. Just because someone likes getting another guy's arm up his asshole doesn't mean he won't turn into a dumbfuck when he's got ten long islands in his mouth. Come on," Hawk growled, then pushed past Bubba, gestured along with a gloved hand.
The elevator had already gone down, and they had to wait for it to return, floor rumbling with hidden mechanics. "You always dress like some kind of badass?" Bubba finally asked, taking a moment to get a close look at the black wolf.
"Yeah. Usually it's more mafia, less hell's angel," the wolf said, then reached over and tapped an acrylic-framed newspaper article featuring himself in a black leather business suit, gloved hands folded on a table, smirking like he was getting under-the-table service. It was a profile article the local alternative weekly ran about him a few months back. "We're gonna start in the basement. That's the dungeon. That fox you met, was he kind of weird, like excited and nerdy and sort of charcoal colored with a red mohawk?"
"He was wearin' some type of super hero shit, like Batman or somethin'," Bubba said, as they got in the elevator and rode down.
The elevator opened up to an imposing hallway. Hawk strode out like nothing was amiss, but Bubba hung back. "Down here, guys do whatever they want, as long as it doesn't involve blood, vomit, or shit. Watersports has to be in the bathroom. Speaking of which.." Hawk said, and ducked into the bathroom. "Fuck. There goes my fucking idea! Mike! Where's your skinbag?" The wolf ducked back out and doubled back to where the basement area formed a little storefront. Up popped the rubber-clad fox the buck had just mentioned.
"Hi. He's visiting his mom in the hospital. It's nothing too bad, she's just had some surgery on stuff. Oh, is that your new bouncer?"
"Maybe," Hawk said, and grabbed Bubba by the shoulder in a bro hug. "His name's Bubba. Isn't that precious? Maybe I should make him wearing hunting gear."
Bubba's reaction was to pull away and duck his head down, rack forward. "Maybe I oughta hang you out t'dry."
Michael didn't seem to find anything amiss with their behavior, and went about his business of putting things out in the display case. "I bet Hawk was going to show you my friend. We trade off working my little gear shop here, and when he's not working, he's in this rubber dog outfit hooked up to a urinal. You pee in it and flush, and it goes into his gas mask."
Bubba leaned on the counter. "There somethin' about being a faggot that makes you do really weird shit? You know what I do when I wanna get off? I stick my pecker in something."
"I have a few things you could stick your dick into-"
"Mike, don't sell shit to the staff." Hawk growled, then pulled Bubba out of the way. The buck responded by punching him in the arm with a hard thud. The wolf grimaced.
"I ain't staff yet, maybe this whole thing's some kind of dumb mistake, like what the hell I was thinkin'," Bubba said, fists balled up. "Ain't nothin' down here except the shitter and some fox an' some haunted house torture shit. You got some real stuff you wanna weird me out with?" The buck's ears were pink inside, his eyes were a little sleepy and glassy.
"Let's go up to the dance floor," Hawk said, then turned on a heel and stomped off to the back stairs. The dance floor was empty, as the club was fifteen minutes until opening. "This is the dance floor. People come here and dance. You gotta make sure no one's dealing, no one's fighting, no one's abusing anyone - if someones fighting to get away, you watch them, make sure that you saw them getting into it, not like they're attacked. You got that? This ain't like some regular bar, guys do all kinds of shit. In fact, I know these two bucks, just like you, who come in and go around asking for a victim, always some kind of pred, and then they stalk him down and give it to him for being a meater until everyone's out of cum. If you didn't know better, you'd think they were nuts and throw them out. Instead, they tip about a hundred a night."
"Fuck if I care, you said you don't split tips," Bubba said, following the wolf around at a lazy pace.
Hawk went up to the dance floor bar and got two more drinks. "You like rye? Sour mash? You better, because I'm buying it. You get free drinks after close, whatever's left in the bottles. We're usually here 'till about three, close up is at 2, so you can load up a little. You better be a night owl."
This time, Bubba took up his liquor and downed it on the spot. "I sound like I don't appreciate some fuckin' whiskey or some shit?"
"You thought I drugged it upstairs. Okay, time to go to the main floor. That's the main bar and the kind of pub area, where people hang out with their friends and shit," the wolf snarled, then tore off again. They went up the stairs again and entered the back room. "This is where you can play pool, some arcade shit, and get a little bit of privacy. Not much, but here's the deal. You see how there are these booths? Guys can fuck in there. If someone's lingering around, you push them along. No loitering," Hawk gruffed, pointing a gloved finger up at the FIRE EXIT sign over the stairwell they'd just come out of.
"They fuck on them pool tables, too?"
"No, you catch someone doing that, you get them off it. That's a pool table, you shoot on it and it's gonna get fucked up and then everyone's gonna think it's rigged. You catch anyone fucking with the coin slot, you warn them. You catch anyone trying to use a cue like a fucking dildo, you warn them. You catch them using a ball as an anal bead, you warn them. You warn someone three times for anything, you throw them out on your ass. You do not fuck their ass, you do not spank their ass, you do not take them downstairs and tie them to a whipping cross and whip their ass."
Bubba's bland expression said, 'Yeah, and...'. Hawk squinted for a moment, then kept pulling him along.
The club had already opened for regular business, and the main bar was starting to fill up. The bar itself had a peppering of long time stalwarts in old-guard leather gear, while a steady trickle of all kinds were coming in the door and getting their First Drinks. Hawk stalked up and grabbed the bartender's attention. "Hey Nick, see that buck? Yeah, that one," the wolf pointed his gloved hand at Bubba, who was giving WTF-eyes to a mink in a full rubber yellow rain suit. "I'm hiring him as a bouncer. Spike some Jack with 151 or Stroh or some shit. I wanna see what he does when he gets sloshed. You know, just in case."
"You're an asshole," the bartender laughed, but made the drink up anyway.
"You see that guy there?" Bubba said, coming back over just in time to miss the extra addition to the whiskey. He put his arm around Hawk's shoulders. "Damn this shit's nice leather, you see that guy there? That guy? The hell he's wearin' that for, it ain't rainin' out. Aww this fo' me?" The buck then swiped the drink up and took it down, shuddering and clacking the shot down to the bar. "So what the hell's upstairs, huh? You got some kind of... I dunno, weren't we all the way up? In your ori..office?"
"I can't believe some redneck deer steak like you just started to say the fucking word 'orifice'," Hawk snorted, then glove-clapped onto the buck's arm in return. "You wanna know what's up there?" He said, dragging Bubba towards the kitchen entrance, which led in turn to a back staircase he had to unlock.
"You quit pullin' on me, I ain't some lil' puppy dog shit like you," Bubba said, and yanked away from Hawk's grasp, then stormed up the stairs on his own. Hawk stayed back a few steps in case Bubba decided to look up suddenly and send antlers back into his face, besides, the stag jeans fit very nicely in back. He had a skinny little ass, but is looked mighty fine in that snug denim as he swaggered up the stairs in front of him.
The floor up from the main bar had a big lounge in it, along with a cashier's desk. Hawk went over and stood by it, and the slender wolf who was manning it. "Now, up here, this is where you can rent a room. You can either get one for yourself or a couple friends, or you can get one with some bitch in it. And by bitch, I don't mean tits."
"Shit, you run a whorehouse too?" Bubba said, adjusting himself and swaying just a little on his hooves, as if he was going to pee at a urinal. Hawk kept an eye on it.
"Yeah. Everyone who does that, does it upstairs on the next floor. This is for more impromptu shit. There's one room at the end here, it's kind of drawn by a lottery, you pay up and you get to be in there and anyone can come in and fuck around with you. Like it's the slut room. That make sense? Now lemme tell you about that tip splitting thing that some asshole misinformed you about," Hawk said, once again bro-shouldering Bubba to lead him down the hallway. He stopped outside the room in question. "You're gonna need a card from the health department, you need a companion license if you're gonna do this shit, but here's the deal. Some guy wants to get off, they pay, they go sit in that room. Then whoever wants to come mess with them comes and does it. I mean anyone, the door's open. But, whoever's in there is encouraged to 'tip'."
"Uh-huh," Bubba said, arms crossed, leaning on the wall.
"That means you can get off in some shit's asshole and he'll pay you, but you don't have to be a whore because you're just using him like a slut toy."
"I tell you that I aint' a faggot? 'Cuz I ain't a faggot."
"Yeah, whatever, a hole's a hole when you're horny and need to blow off some steam." Hawk opened the door, and instead of finding the room empty, there was a fox in it. "What the hell! You're not supposed to shut the door like that!"
The fox, a fairly ordinary red one, was wearing a pair of simple leather jeans, army boots, and a spandex muscle shirt. "Uhm. Really? They didn't tell me that." The room was simple: deep red walls, black sofa, twin bed, both furniture items upholstered in leather to aid cleaning and keep with the theme.
"Hrr. You waiting here for someone to come bone your ass?" Hawk said, immediately starting to pace around in the entryway while Bubba gave the unfolding scene a glassy, drunken stare. "You're supposed to leave the door open. This is the slut room."
"I was really just checking it out, although I guess I did pay... plus, maybe I wanted to make someone mad so I'd have to meet the owner?" the fox smiled.
"Yeah, well, you're meeting him right now," Hawk snarled. "If you weren't a pretty fox, I'd toss you out into the hallway and make you watch someone else get... wait a fucking minute."
The fox smiled. "Hi. You told me that if you took me here to do your interview, that you'd have to fuck me."
"I figured that was kind of, you know, not polite," Hawk said, showing almost all his teeth in a mean, lupine grin.
"You two faggots know each other?" Bubba piped up, drunk squinting.
The fox nodded. "Yeah. I'm Todd Jones. I work for the Freak Town Herald." Saying that got no response from Bubba. "The alternative weekly paper." That still got no response. "Uh, I interviewed Hawk here for a story. Plus, I also film porn. Anyway, I interviewed this fine black wolf at a restaurant because he said he'd have to keep up his image by fucking me in front of everyone if we came here. But I'd never _been_ here, so I decided to come check it out."
"Good foxy," Hawk said, rolling his eyes at the same time. "Well, I have a surprise. This deer here's gonna be one of our bouncers."
"That mean I got the job?" Bubba stuck his thumbs into his pants pockets.
"Depends on if you want it. And if can squeeze your nuts dry in a fox's asshole," Hawk sneered again.
"I ain't fuckin' some faggot fox-boy up the ass jus' to get a job," Bubba chuffed, then crossed his arms.
"Like I fucking _said_, he's gonna be one of our bouncers. And they get to fuck whoever's in the slut room. And you get to tip them for the pleasure. You understand that?"
Todd looked taken aback.
"Okay," Hawk groused, "Obviously someone did a bad job explaining-"
"So if he's not a bouncer right now, is this his job interview? That's really kind of a strange thing to do on a job interview," Todd said. "I guess it makes sense, though. You did a pretty good job theming this place."
Bubba looked bored; Hawk noticed and upped his angry look to a snarl. "You, go occupy yourself. I need a few words in private with this little upstart bitch."
The buck, booze-eyed, turned and chuffed his way out. Hawk pulled the door shut and snapped the latch closed. "You."
"Me?"
"That deer has a giant dick. Could you see it through his pants? How could anyone _not_ see it? He's gonna be a big hit here. How many gay clubs do you go to? You're some kind of newspaper reporter, right? I bet you have to scope that shit out."
Todd smiled and reclined on the sofa. "I'm here because I'm curious, I usually just film porn and the newspaper thing was kind of a 'friends on the inside' thing, and yeah, I do go to a lot of clubs. Not really like this. Honestly, the fetish thing's kind of new to me. Although I did manage to learn that you don't like guys who wear leather clothing with the price tags on it, so I made sure to take mine off after I got them earlier."
"I knew it. I smelled fresh leather. Cheap leather, too," Hawk sneered, arms crossed, standing square in the center of the small room. "You know, I'm serious about what I said. So you go to clubs, right? How do people treat the staff? A necessary evil, right? Move along, don't stand there, you can't stand there, you can't do this, you can't do that, you can't have fun even though you're drunk and spent money to get into some place to have _fun_. Right?"
Todd shrugged and nodded. "Yeah. Are you drunk? That's not really a good thing to do if you run a business."
"I am not drunk. And I'm not saying that because I really am drunk, I am _not_ drunk. When I get drunk, I pass out. Anyway, I want people to _want_ the staff. But I don't want it to be trashy like where the waiters all have hot pants and nothing else on. So, the waitstaff and bartenders all get to wear fetish gear but have to stay proper, and the crowd management has to look tough and manly but also desirable. Plus, they get to fuck people in the slut room for tips."
"And how's that working out?"
Hawk squinted. "It's working out really well."
"Really? It's pretty dead so far, that I've seen-"
"It's nine-fucking-thirty, you little bitch." Hawk sat down next to Todd and scruffed him. The vulpine complained but only went as far as to put a hand on the wolf's thigh with a light smack. "So, do you like this outfit? Do you think I'm all dressed up?"
"Maybe?" Todd squeaked, ears back.
"I got off my fucking _bike_. But do you _like_ it?"
"I like the... I like the boots, the most," Todd said. "I've always kind of liked boots. It started off with, uh, well with shoes actually, but then it went to boots."
"On the floor. Now." Hawk let go of Todd's scruff like it was hot.
"What?"
"GET ON THE GODDAMN FLOOR AND LICK MY FUCKING BOOT! What the fuck kind of 'slut' are you?"
"I'm not really a slut," Todd stumbled, and sulked off the sofa into a kneeling pile. He hunkered down over one of the wolf's 18-inch engineer boots and started nuzzling at it.
"Could have fooled me," Hawk grumbled, then stretched his free leg out. Without being asked further, Todd squirmed and straddled onto it, leather-clad legs squeezed around the tall, dull-gloss boot. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You're fucking my boot now."
"No I'm not," Todd mumbled, then rubbed his face where he'd just licked. "Okay, I am. I guess I'm kind of shameless."
Hawk unbuttoned the fly for his leather pants, then shoved his gloved hand in, massaging his cock as it ran awkwardly down his left thigh. "Good, because this isn't the fucking place for shame, unless it gives you a hard-on."
"That's me!" Todd said, previous fearful attitude dissolving as fast as he seemed to be getting hard against the tall wolf's boot.
"Yeah, I saw that video, and the thing in the paper where you peed yourself like a little kid... if you told me you were embarrassed to suck my boot leather, I'd have ground my heel into your dick. Hard to believe you're not a fucking slut."
Todd put his ears down again. "Uh. Yeah, well, that Tomasz guy kind of strangled me. I mean, you'd pee yourself too." Then he cradled his hands around the back of the wolf's ankle and started licking up and down the boot shaft while he straddled on the other.
"So, how about you come back up here? Have a seat, you don't have to lick my boots all night," Hawk said, sliding over to one corner of the couch.
Confused, Todd slinked back up, pulled his tail to the side, and then leaned back into the corner. He stared at Hawk's hidden hand. The wolf pulled it out, dragging black, uncut flesh with it. Todd immediately squirmed in place, a hard banana curve in his own shiny black leather.
"Good boy. Now take yours out. I hope you pissed before you came in here. I don't want any embarrassing accidents."
"No, no, I took care of that," Todd said, grabbing himself and wincing, squirming, and finally starting to open up his pants. "Man, these are kind of tight. I mean they grab you right where they should, but it's... it's hard when you're hard."
"No shit," Hawk grumbled.
Todd pulled his own cock out, equally uncut, equally black, and just over half as big. Hard as a stone, enough that the foreskin squeezed the middle of the cockhead. "Wow, we're both black, and you're _huge_..."
Within ten seconds of Todd baring his dick, someone knocked on the door. The fox fluffed his neckruff up and drooped soft over his hand. Hawk stayed stiff as a board, despite the liquor. Then the knock came again, this time hard and sharp. Clack. Clack. Clack. "Open th'fuckin' door you dumb shits, I don't care if you're all nut deep in each other's ass-holes." It was the buck.
Hawk, dick in hand, got up and opened the door. Bubba seemed completely unfazed by seeing the wolf with his dick out. The buck's muzzle was sweaty, his ears were pink inside, and he was even more glaze-eyed. "Yeah? You came back? Aww, I feel flattered. You done doing whate-"
"You know that wolf runnin' things up here, he's got the same prison tat as me? Was in the same bunch, 'fore I got in. You better watch your puppy-dog ass hirin' ex cons, someone's gonna be a bad motherfucker."
"You ain't a bad motherfucker?" Hawk said, shaking his dick towards the buck in an attempt to splat one of Bubba's hooves with precum. It hit the floor instead.
"Aww lookit the lil' faggots, showin' each other's dicks off," the buck said, shouldering his way past Hawk. "Well you two can go rub 'em together like sticks, maybe you're gonna make a fire, an' I'll put it out with this." The buck grappled with his fly and ripped the zipper right open, then dug his cock out with a leer on his face. It was almost sixteen inches, and as thick as Todd's wrist. Hawk perked his eyebrows; Todd's eyes lit up, brow high, ears perked straight. His flopped cock inflated back up to urgent erection.
"Hey, so I have a story and believe me, it gets hot. I film porn, right?" Todd began, and took hold of his cock, distracted and surprised at how hard he was. He fingered the skin back and forth, then ran his thumb around the very rim. "I got mono from one of the porn actors. He was this young guy, still in college. He had me fluff him, and then we kissed a little bit later. Then he got sick, then I got it. You know, it's just a bad sore through and you feel real tired for a few weeks. Well, my sore throat was really bad. And after it? I completely lost my gag reflex."
Bubba and Hawk looked at each other, then back at Todd. "Didn't you just write a story about Michael Jasek? That rubber fox? You two weirdos are peas in a fucking pod," the wolf said, squinting and then milking his cock until clear ooze erupted from the tip to coincide with his invective.
"Well, he's really kinky," Todd said, then flipped himself around so he was feet up on the couch, booted legs grabbing up over the top of the back cushion, "I'm just... okay... okay, I'm a slut," The fox then motioned for Bubba to come closer. The buck did, cock hard enough to be swollen, not enough to do more then hang. As Bubba's shaft hung over Todd's face, the fox took it and started to lick around the head. "How did you get this thing? You're fucking part horse!" Then he started to slurp over the head, muzzle forcing a wet squelch almost every time.
"Awww hell," Bubba said, eyes wide, one hand up and hanging off his rack as he wobbled on his hooves, cock stirring and thrusting deeper into the fox's eager, slobbering mouth. "Muh Grandsire on my Mamma side of thfamily was a stallion," the buck grunted, then licked around his muzzle, pink tongue out far enough to wipe around the black mark of his 'van dyke' beard marking.
Todd was not simply treating the end of Bubba's dick like a dollop of ice cream, or increasingly, a cream-centered Popsicle. After a few moments, the fox reached out and pulled on the buck's thighs. Bubba stepped forward and Todd gagged,then squeezed his eyes shut. Bubba chuffed and drooled on his chin, then pushed a little farther forward. The two played tug until there _was_ no more going forward. Bubba's balls were right on Todd's muzzle, and his enormous cock left a very visible thickness down the fox's creamy neck-fur.
Hawk let go of his cock and stared, completely disbelieving, enough to come around from being firmly buzzed. Bubba gave him one look, then drew his cock out of the fox's throat. Todd gasped and clutched onto the buck's fly.
"Okay, so if I tap you on the balls, pull out. Otherwise, have at it!"
Bubba was drunk enough to lunge right in, almost cutting the vulpine's cheerfully encouraging words. "Hell, I ain't gonna fuck some faggot fox, but I'm damned well gon' get off in his throat. Careful, you lil' shit, you're gonna be drunk when I'm done with you." The buck literally fucked Todd in the throat, pulling off every twenty seconds or so to give the vulpine a breathing break. Then he looked over at Hawk."You still wearin' all that bike shit?" The buck said, suddenly ignoring his task, at least with his attention. His hips kept plungering the fox's throat like a clogged drain. "Ain't you hot?"
Hawk shrugged, then finally stood up, pacing around behind the action, dick in hand, watching from any possible angle as Bubba ruined Todd's throat. "This is fucking amazing, I didn't know you could _put_ a dick that deep in someone, and I know a few horses. And yeah, it gets hot, but I like it."
"How 'bout you let me put that jacket on, make me look like a badass," Bubba slurred, then took his cock out and wiped it around on Todd's mouth. The fox reached up and slowly massaged it, pink tongue lapping at any drool that came out of the pisshole.
The black wolf kept throttling his cock until he realized Bubba was staring at him. "Shit, fine," he grunted, unzipped the jacket all the way, then took it off. He kept his riding gauntlets to himself, pulling them back on bare-armed. Underneath the jacket: black fur, trimmed down to plush velvet except where its length served to enhance the 'wolf ruff' around the collarbone. He handed the jacket over and Bubba slung it on. While the buck was quite big, he wasn't built like Hawk and it was loose, but not unfashionably. Todd just watched, big-eyed, suckling and even 'gnawing' at the V-underside of the buck's dickhead.
"Ain't you gonna give me your gloves too? All you leather fags love that shit, everyone I saw comin' in had on a pair."
Hawk let go of his cock, then squinted at Bubba. The buck clearly had no idea what he was getting into with that statement. Hawk tugged his gloves off, then handed them over. Bubba pulled them on, then gave Todd a hard smack across the face. "Whoa, careful there, no breaking the fucking customers."
"Hell if I can cum down in his lungs, a lil' smack ain't gonna do shit," Bubba said, then did it again. "How come you ain't suckin' like you were? You ain't gettin' fucked, I wanna shoot you in the face," Bubba said, milking his cock until it slobbered all over Todd's eyebrow spots.
Todd didn't say anything; he just grappled with Bubba's tool and fed it back into his mouth, suckling for a few seconds before the buck took off thrusting again.
Hawk stepped up behind Bubba and slid his bare hands around the jacket. "I like you in leather. You oughta be a tough-ass. You got a bike? I know guys who can build you one. Hell I'd help. I'd even fucking grind notches in your hooves so you could put 'em on the pegs and shifter. You like that idea?" Hawk's muzzle pushed into one of Bubba's ears and pinned it to the side of his rack so it couldn't flick away. "You could ride around all day, and after all that heat and vibration got your balls churned full of buckshot, you could push people around here and then blow them off your cock when you nut at the end of your shift."
"Shit yeah," Bubba grumbled, breathing increasingly ragged as he plowed and paused, plowed and paused. Thanks to the throat-fucking, there was plenty of noise in the room: wet squelches and gagging sounds from Todd, leather squeaks from both wolf and buck, and the urgent grunts that Bubba pushed out through his teeth.
"You'd love that, wouldn't you? Getting off in any asshole you want, getting tipped real hard, sure you'd be a whore, but you'd be on fucking _top_, you'd be a stud, you'd be _satis-"
"Shut the hell up already an' leggo, you ain't gettin' my shitter," Bubba snorted, then reached back and shoved Hawk away. He dragged his cock out of Todd's mouth and pumped it towards the head. Two strokes in and he unloaded, letting out a strangled groan as huge gouts of seed pumped out and slathered Todd's front. All over his face, neck, spandex shirt, and a good three jets splashed all over the fox's dick and balls as they sprung out of his leather pants. Bubba squeegeed his cock off with his newly-gloved hand, then staggered to the side and sat down.
Todd, meanwhile, just hung his head over the edge of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. Then he cleared his throat. "See? I'm a slut," he said, then sat up, face wrinkled to keep the mess from getting into his eyes.
Hawk, still hard, walked over and pulled a drawer open, then took out a towel. "And you tried to tell me you weren't. Here you go. Clean up." He threw it at Todd. When the fox reached down for his groin, Hawk jumped in and grabbed his wrist. "Nuh-uh, not that fucking part of you. That's gonna stay slimed with deer spunk so it'll ripen up and remind you who fisted your throat with his dick." Hawk grappled with the top button, doing it shut and then zipped the fly up. Todd stuck his ears back. "That's right, it's embarrassing. I bet you'll love it. You'll go around here stinking of fucking buck juice, with it running down your fucking leg. Have a good fucking night and get out of here." The wolf then dragged the barely-clean vulpine up off the sofa and forced him out of the room.
"Anyone ever tell you that you're an ass-hole?" Bubba said, reclining on the sofa, dick limp and leaving a splotch on his thigh.
"Being an asshole means you get to be an asshole, and still get laid. Turns out people love jerky shitheads, and not just little girls who think they need to get men to abuse them for attention."
"Man, you _are_ a fuckin' ass-hole," Bubba grunted.
"Get off yours, we're going back upstairs. Gonna do some paperwork. You got the job."
Hawk's paperwork was a ruse. The only thing waiting upstairs was the opulent owner's office and the apartment attached to it. The wolf did have paperwork for his 'new hire' but he had it in a manilla envelope and needed it 'before you show back up again'. Bubba probably didn't have a copy of his birth certificate stuck in a back pocket.
"The hell you need some fancy ass place like this for?" Bubba said, wandering around the living room of the top floor apartment.
"Well, the bar started out as just a bar, and the rest of the building was apartments. Then Carl, the previous owner, this dog guy, bought it all up. He liked being able to give people the VIP treatment," Hawk said, going through a drawer attached to his not-so-mini living room bar. It had a lock and key. Bubba didn't seem to notice or care. "I haven't done any of that shit yet. I like enjoying the little home away from home and I'm gonna milk it for a few more months."
"Uh-huh," Bubba said. "You got any more whiskey?"
"What the fuck kind of question is that?" Hawk said, palming something away into a pants pocket. He pulled two glasses down and poured off. No ice. "This is fucking scotch, so try and pretend you like the taste of it before you pour it down your throat."
Bubba shuddered for a second. "Aww shit, now I'm thinking about that fox. God damn, did I really fuck the whole thing down his neck?" The buck hadn't put his cock away, which had drawn plenty of grinning attention as he stomped around with the wolf before heading upstairs. It was still out, hanging out over his balls, which settled against the crook of his fly. He was also still wearing Hawk's leather riding jacket.
Hawk grinned as he passed over the liquor. "Yeah, you really fucked his throat. I figured that if he was gonna come around here and be a little brat, investigating this place so he could write some shit or whatever, he oughta get a run for his money. Figured I'd fuck him real good. I had the whole fucking thing in my head," the lupine grunted, then poured a shot and knocked it back. Bubba did the same, only his was a third of a lowball. "And you fucking ruined it. I didn't get off. Look at this," Hawk snorted, then pried his fly apart and took out his half-hard dick. The head was slimy and sticky from all the precum he'd worked up earlier.
"You like showin' that thing to me, you want me to kiss it or somethin'?"
"Yeah, I'll-"
"Well you can go fuck yourself, I ain't kissin' no wolf dick." Bubba absently scratched at his chest, then wandered around the apartment. He hauled the bedroom door open and almost fell over backwards as he spotted what was inside. "I wanna look at what kinda shit I'm gonna be throwin' up all over tonight. God damn, look at that bed! It's like some kinda princess bed!"
"That princess bed lets me tie some whimpery shit up to the fucking _ceiling_. I just like having curtains and shit around when I sleep. I dunno, it's some wolf bullshit I guess, like having a den under a fallen tree or whatever."
Bubba laughed so hard he coughed. "That's the dumbest shit I ever heard! Some big ass biker wolf bitch has to sleep in a princess bed." Then he tossed himself back on it. "Oh man I could jus' knock right out here, fuckin' a."
"Yeah?" Hawk stood at the foot of the bed. "You piss or puke anywhere in there and I'm gonna make you _eat_ the fuckin' sheets right off the bed. You cum on shit, that's fine. You can do that all night if you want."
"Hell, I ain't cummin' again, not after your lil' fox toy."
"He isn't _mine_, and what the fuck are you doing still wearing my jacket?" Hawk growled, then leaned forward against the bed, knees at the edge, pants creaking. He wanted Bubba trashed, but to do it, he had to get himself pretty buzzed.
"Mmm, I bet I look like a stud. Do I look like a stud? Look at that, I look like a stud."
"If I ripped your rack off, you'd look like some kind of tranny doe boy," Hawk snarled, then leaned forward until he was kneeling down around Bubba. The buck looked unconcerned, eventually lifting up his leather-gloved hands, taking the wolf's chest weight.
"You know, you're a fine wolf, you ain't that ripped up but damn this shit's hard under the fluff."
"You know what? You're wearing buckskin gloves."
Bubba dropped his hands to his chest. "Thfuck?"
"That's right. You were milking your own dick with those while you were getting ready for that little fox slut's gaping throat. That's fucking sick, isn't it?" Hawk grabbed Bubba by the wrists and forced them against the sheets. The buck fought back strong, but drunk, body flailing in a way that mostly just hammered random bits of muscle up against the wolf. "That's real sick. That's as sick as shoving your dick through some fox's _larynx_. I get fucking text messages from the bartenders, that little bitch went down to order a fucking drink and sounded like he had smoker's cough, says one of them. All because of you."
Bubba tried to gore at Hawk's head with his rack, but Hawk was an angry drunk. He lunged and snapped onto the bone, huffing forward and shoving his boot toes into the plush bedsheets, pinning Bubba thrice. The wolf gave three grunts, pushing down each time, shoving with his head, then his bare hands, then his head. Finally, he let go and Bubba opened his mouth. "Shit."
"You know what else, buck? I've got enough Rut in my pocket to milk a gallon out of that horse dick of yours. And maybe, while you were fucked out of your mind getting off, you might even make another _mistake_."
"God damn asshole," Bubba groaned, still pinned by his wrists and the wolf's hard shoving bulge.
"I didn't fuck that fox's ass like I wanted. So I'm gonna fuck yours. That seems awful fucking appropriate, huh?" Hawk eased up on Bubba's wrists, then sank back to his knees, straddling the buck's midsection. "You let me fuck your ass and I won't tell anyone. About how I like to fuck your ass, and about you let me, and about how you were a dumb fuckup who got thrown in jail, not any kind of 'badass'. Now I'm gonna get up off you an' you're gonna take your pants off." Hawk got up off him.
Bubba looked awfully concerned until the wolf moved away, then hunkered on his knees, then gave a challenging glare and side-nod. The buck was drunk enough that he instantly switched gears and shimmied out of his pants, folding up to pull them off his hooves. "Shit, do it like I'm a mutt or somethin', I don't wanna look at that crooked-ass grin of yours." Then he rolled over, white tail flagged up. He wasn't wearing any underwear.
Hawk swiped up the buck's jeans and immediately started snuffling around in them, sniffing at the stunning crotch musk leftover from a drunk deer with a cock literally as long as a summer sausage. He got up and opened up one of the room's goodie drawers, then pulled out a big pump dispenser of silicone lube. "I'll use the real good stuff since you aren't gonna be sucking me clean afterwards. I'm not that kind of asshole." Hawk unbuttoned his leathers and pulled his cock out, rolled the skin back, then pumped a splat of lube onto his glans. He turned and looked at Bubba. The buck was hunkered on his forearms and knees, looking soused and acceptingly pissed off. Hawk pulled his foreskin back and pumped another splat onto his cock. Bubba's ears twitched.
"Don't you tell anyone, I ain't fuckin' with you," Bubba huffed.
"Isn't that my line, little boy?" Hawk turned and came over, stroking his cock until the head looked like the bottom of an apple, urgently glossy. "You aren't even gonna remember what happened. Don't worry, no one's gonna fucking surprise you. Jesus. Look at that shithole."
"Thfuck you doinwith _Rut_ anyway, Meater? That shit ain't for wolf pups, it'll fuck you sideways. Shit's hardly fun sometimes anyway." Bubba asked, voice low and husky, but harsh instead of sexy. Nevertheless, his knees slowly skidded apart. "I'll tell you how it works. You gotta cum. Like you gotta do it, or you're gonna figure out how to do it at any moment, no matter what you're doin'. You could be visitin' your Ma in the hospital an' then you're excusing yourself so you can go slip the nurses a 'sample' instead of grabbina smolke. You gotta cum that bad. And if you don't cum, then you get all fucked up inside and you can't get shit done at all, ever again. Well, gettin' your, whatever the hell that is, p-spot or whatever, getting that whacked by some big fat _dick_ sure makes squeezes all your juices out good."
"You fuckin' slut," Hawk sneered, but it was the knowing sneer of comraderie, of being in on the joke, of being drunk and still hard. He brought his cock up to the buck's hole and started to shove right against it. Bubba winced, then groaned, then chuffed and smacked his jaw into the sheets, rack hitting a pillow with a sharp thwap. Hawk's cock crushed down and barely started to wedge inside. "I guess I'm gonna have to loosen you up." He pulled back and replaced his cockhead with two fingers. They went in much, much more easily, enough that Bubba strangled his pained surprise at being penetrated.
"Don't do that nasty gay shit, jus' fuck me," Bubba grunted, then went wide-eyed and slumped his head to the side. "Aah shit! Shit it's like I'm gon' piss an' cum at the same time."
Hawk slid his fingers out, then tried again with his cockhead. Bubba quivered around him, denting in, stretching apart, then pushing out and tensing back to almost like he was kissing the wolf's dickhead with his asshole. The buck then gasped when the head fully popped in, instantly locked in place when Bubba cramped up. "Don't you fucking think about pushing me out," Hawk snarled, leaning forward to latch onto Bubba's rack. He dug the buck's jaw into a pillow and held it there as he tugged back out, then forced that ring to spread around him again. This time, he could push straight to three inches deep without any halting. One more pull, and he could just fuck his glans in and out of the ring. "Seems to me, you try awful hard to seem like you're not some filthy faggot slut, like you're just doing it because you have needs, you gotta get off and there aren't any women here. Yeah? Well then how come you're letting me fuck you like you're an ass-slut?"
Hawk changed course and sank forward, kicking his hip to the side at the last possible moment so his cockhead would pop through the buck's inner ring and stuff the curve. Bubba hollered out, rocked forward, then rocked right back. Bubba could only groan once he'd loosened up enough to take away the crushing pain of cramping.
"Here, lemme make it feel good for you, too. Since you have to get it milked out of you so hard all the time."
"Ain't.. on..." Bubba tried to defend himself as Hawk dug into his sore point. The wolf's cock dug in, too, all the way to the hilt.
"It's gotta be close to your ribs now, huh? I bet that's how that fox felt." Hawk pulled back and pumped forward until his pants leather smacked Bubba's ass and hamstrings. Then again. By the third heavy, hilting thrust, the buck was drooling into the sheets and uttering the kind of sound that spoke of penetrated awe and drunken pleasure. Hawk kept his tight grip on the buck's rack. "You stay right the fuck there. This isn't about making you cum. You already fuckin' did that. I'm done when I'm done, and I'm _drunk_."
The wolf fucked like he had work to do. It certainly felt good, but he was intoxicated enough that orgasming took effort beyond humiliating his partner and stuffing a warm hole. The lupine narrowed his gaze and hammered on, losing track of time as he tried to find the angle that hurt Bubba enough to trigger muscle cramps that would milk at his dickhead. The buck finally protested and tried to kick Hawk, grunting out a sincere order to "get off". Hawk followed it and unloaded, pressure on his dick turning the orgasm piquant and ensuring that he felt every single squirt as it forced down ten inches of dick and as deep into the deer's guts as he could get it.
He pulled back and narrowly missed a hoof to the balls. The wolf reeled back. "Get that fucking jacket off you, and get those gloves off. I can't believe you'd fucking keep a pair of buckskin gloves on." He spun and stormed out of the penthouse apartment bedroom, then drunk rushed into the office. He found his paperwork folder and returned to see Bubba just about to set the riding jacket down.
"Gimme that," Hawk snapped, then swung his hand and whipped the coat out of Bubba's grasp. "I said take the fucking gloves off, bonehead."
Bubba pulled each glove off, crumpled them, and tossed them onto the bed. Then he punched Hawk in the chest. "Keep treatin' me like that an' I'm gonna give your bed a fuckin' vanilla swirl."
Hawk punched right back and sent the buck toppling backwards onto the bed. Bubba was strong; that punch to the wolf's pec _hurt_ in a way that seemed to grow every second. He was also drunk, and force was force. Then, the wolf smacked Bubba in the face with the folder and tossed it onto the buck's chest. "Fill this shit out, get your proof of citizenship and ID shit in line, bring it back on Monday. Take the freight elevator down to G, turn right, and get the fuck out."
Bubba grabbed his pants up and chuffed at Hawk, then stumbled out of the apartment as he tried to pull his jeans back on. He didn't say goodbye.
Hawk put his jacket back on, left it unzipped, and pulled the rumpled gloves back on. Rippled leather turned smooth over his fingers, and he almost got hard again. He stuffed his dick back into his leathers and went back downstairs to see what other trouble he could get into.
The wolf rushed up to the main bar. "Hey you, you seen any fucking foxes around here?" He put his leathered elbow down on the bar with a thud and pointed at the bartender, a somewhat grizzled but muscular and leathered charcoal rat.
"Mmm," the barkeep said, coming over. "We get a lot of foxes in here, Hawk."
"I know, but did you see one in, I dunno, what the fuck was it..."
"It ain't polite to point," a horse said, perched on a bar stool next to where Hawk had barged in. The stud wore a full pulling harness, jock strap, Dehner boots, and sunglasses even though it was quite dim. Then he grabbed the wolf's fist and folded his finger back up. Hawk, drunk, let him and then complained.
"Hey! You wanna know what I just did with that glove? I gave it to a fucking _deer_ to wear, and it's fucking deerskin! Isn't that fucked up?"
"Weren't you jus' talkin' 'bout foxes? You lookin' for a real pretty one, wolf? You wanna plow a lil' fox under his big, fluffy tail?" The horse kept going, holding onto Hawk's arm. "I think this wolf's drunk, you oughta cut him off," the stud said, over to the bartender.
Hawk recognized the horse from somewhere, but he couldn't quite place it. He squinted. "You can't cut me off. I own the fucking place. Now where's my fox?"
"_Your_ fox? We ain't seen _your_ lil' red fox tonight," the stud continued.
"I wasn't asking you," Hawk snorted, wrenching his hand away from the stallion's. He grabbed the stud's harness. "And I wasn't talking about _him_. But if you've seen a fox around here with a black spandex shirt, leather jeans, and combat boots, then I'd appreciate knowing about it. I wanna see if he's a little chicken-shit and ran off like the buck I just finished fucking, or if he's gonna spend the rest of the night being a depraved little vulpine fucktoy like the rest of them." Hawk seethed, grew hard in his leathers, and drooled on himself. He smacked it off his muzzle and slapped the wetness onto the bar.
"Well, there is that fox that's getting harrassed by the biker wolves over there, but that's probably not the one you're talking about," the rat squinted a little harder, then perked his eyebrows up. "Oh, maybe it is."
Hawk looked. The Easy Street Riders - named for the residential street that formed one 'edge' of the gay district - were a common fixture in the club. They looked like the worst group of bike gang members possible, but outside of the bedroom they were one of the most consistent sources of charity in town. (Two of the members were among the wealthiest as well, and another had a summer rose garden famous around the entire country.) They were all wolves, all in black leather, and had surrounded one Todd Jones.
Hawk left the bar and stormed across the room, intentionally picking his way through a throng of men so he could trot out his "Do you know who I am?" speech at least once. He came up to the alarmed - and erect - fox and stood just inches from the vulpine's knees.
"Hi. Uhm, I think this wolf pack's mistaken me for beef jerky or something. Could you do something about it? You own the place, right?" Todd said, barely able to look at Hawk because one of the wolves was trying to pet his chin.
"You guys, you got yourself a nice little fox. I'm hiring a new bouncer and he's a buck with a dick this big," Hawk said, holding his hands up as close to fifteen inches as he could manage while cranked up and drunk. "He fucked this fox's mouth until he had balls on the little shit's chin."
"Nice," a few of the wolves said all at once. Todd tried to force a smile.
"He's also a fucking newspaper reporter for that alt rag. Doing some kind of series on big-name kinksters. Maybe if you fuck him enough, he'll write about you all. Nothing says kinky like a pack of rich biker fag wolves."
Todd swallowed.