Protein Junkies

Story by FakeMan on SoFurry

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A man meets up with two inexplicably husky bros in an old gym. They proceed to have a totally rad time.


Disclaimer - This is archetypical and particularly surreal furry smut. If you're already skeptical, then I advise you turn back now and pretend that it doesn't exist. (This is pornography. Please do not read if it would be illegal for you to do so.)

Protein Junkies

Well, being laid off was a huge blow to the ol' self esteem. The first few weeks Roland hadn't really done anything; just staying in his apartment and applying for jobs online. But even if that was productive, it wasn't satisfying in the least. He hadn't even been called in for a single interview and it began to feel like he didn't actually exist.

But now he had a new strategy. He took his bike and a messenger bag full of resumes and he'd ride around and drop them off at places, even if they didn't specifically say they were hiring. Even after that, he still hadn't been called in, but at least he actually got to meet people and move real physical things, so it felt like he was actually accomplishing something. It was a small town though, and not all of his time could be spent around on his bike, so he decided to try and pick up a healthy pastime.

He had looked around, and most gym memberships were pretty daunting. Some you had to pay upfront for a year in advance, others were just month to month, but cost more than all of his utilities. But after some searching, he found a place that suited his needs. It was run down and in the basement of the old court building that they'd tried to convert into a bunch of failed boutiques. It was only 40$ a month, which was only a little more than a dollar a day, Roland rationalized. Maybe he'd just stop drinking coffee and it'd all even out.

And so, every morning, he got up and headed to the gym, not bothering to shower until after his workout. But being new to this, he'd had some trouble coming up with exactly what a workout was. There were quite a few machines, the older ones spotted and tarnished with disuse, and while most of the other people tended to stick to the treadmills and stair steppers so that they could watch TV while they burned some calories, Roland had taken to just using one machine or another until he got bored or tired and then moving onto the next.

No one really talked much in there. Everyone had their own schedule and their own methods, but after a few weeks Roland noticed something that was way to weird to just stay quiet about. There were two of them, always over with the old rusty equipment and always seemingly talking to each other, but just too far away to make out the words. But that wasn't the really odd part. They weren't quite right . . . Not wanting to stare, Roland had managed to noticed that it wasn't sweatsuits that they wore. It looked more like a fur coat; not quite identical, because one was white and black while the other was white and a brownish orange.

The closer he looked, the stranger it got, but no one else seemed to notice; so for a couple of days, he didn't say anything. But there was really something impossible there. Their faces were long and pulled out like an animal muzzle, and their ears were standing up on the top of their heads like a dog's . . . In fact, that's what they looked like: big fluffy dogs not unlike the huskies he'd seen on television when he watched the Iditarod. But it had to just be a trick of the light. . . or a weird costume? Looking closer, he even saw that they had curled up fluffy tails that bobbed as they paused to high five each other, muscles bulging under their seemingly thick fur.

It was so strange that no one else seemed to think this was unusual. They were gigantic and incredibly bulky as they continued to constantly and tirelessly use the old equipment. The two also had particular adornments that had not seen the light of day since the reign of quarter operated arcades; namely a bandanna for the orange one and a faded head-band for the darker of the two. Upon closer inspection, they also were wearing tacky chain link collars with jingling tags on them.

Roland moved to the treadmills in an attempt to get some answers, turning to the woman who was on the same machine every day from exactly seven to eight AM sharp. "So, uhh, what's the deal with those guys in the corner?" he trotted along on the adjoining treadmill as he asked.

"Hmm, what?" the woman took her earphones out but still kept looking straight ahead as she jogged in place.

"Those guys over on the old equipment. Are you seeing this?" he huffed out he as kept up the pace.

"Oh yeah, bunch of frat boys or something," she said dismissively, offering no further information.

"But what about their tails? and that fur!?"

Her head turned to face him like it was something out of The Exorcist and her eyebrows crept up her face as if concerned that she was running next to some kind of mental patient.

"I uhh. Yeah. I'll just go." Roland slid off the treadmill, cheeks burning. She had obviously seen the duo, but she didn't seem bothered at all. Maybe this was just . . . their thing? But it seemed so weird for them just to be there like that.

Deciding that he had to do the unthinkable, Roland steeled his nerves and walked over to inquire about the unique situation directly. They were at the bench press, and one was spotting the other, but the amount of weights on either side of the bars was ludicrous. If they could bench that much they should be in the Olympics, not some crummy old gym. . . Straining, the orange furred one's muscles bulged as he pressed up, tail paused and black thin lips pulled back to reveal long canine teeth as his black and white spotter egged him on.

"Come on bro. Feel the burn. Yeah, just do that shit!"

It was like dialog from a bad 80s movie, but Roland couldn't help but stare at his massive biceps as he pumped the iron, black nose huffing in as his dark clawed feet clenched.

Finally, he slowly raised the bar one last time, slamming it into its holder with a metallic clang before flying to his feet. "Whoo! I told you I could do it man. It was like totally a piece of cake." This one sounded like someone had just stepped off the set of Point Break, and played the part as they bumped into each other's chests with a solid whumph, tails wagging out through their very tight form fitting shorts.

Roland didn't know how to even approach this, but eventually he didn't have to as the musclebound duo noticed his staring. "Hey man, you want something? There's another press over there." the black one looked down at him and pointed towards the empty bench as he gulped.

"I, umm, Oh, Well I just noticed you guys over here, and I thought I'd ask about your bodies . . ."

"I know, totally ripped right?" the orange one interrupted him, flexing out his arms in a generic body-builder pose. "I've been working on these guns for ages."

"And just check those pecs," the black one leaned over his shoulder, grasping around his strong chest. The man blushed, realizing that he could see the guy's pink nipples through his fur as animal paws groped over his chiseled chest.

"Yeah, I mean, you guys are ripped, but I was really wondering about . . ." Roland tried to bring up the actual point of his inquisition as he looked over the dangling metal tags hanging from around their necks.

"How you can be as totally built?" The orange one interrupted him as his spotter slid his arms off of him and stepped to his side. "Take's a lot of work bro, but It's all totally worth it." The man squinted and read the name on the tag: 'Eddie'

"You know, we're pretty busy keeping our bods so toned, but, since you only want a few pointers, we can help you out." The black and white one padded towards the surprised man, looking at him as he circled with the almost unbearably 90s name of 'Thrash' dangling from his collar.

"Oh no. I didn't want to bother you guys, I was just curious, that's all. Thanks anyways. . ." he turned around.

"No need to be shy dude. Everybody's gotta start somewhere," Eddy's voice called out.

"Yeah man, how much you bench?" Their towering bodies were on either side of him, and it seemed undeniable that they were giant dogs, but Roland couldn't seem to bring himself to say it out loud for fear of another reaction like the treadmill woman had given him. So he just answered their question instead. At least they seemed friendly, even if they were still living in the times of Patrick Swayze . . .

"Uhhh, not that much. Only like 110," he scratched the back of his head. He was really just doing this for fitness, not any kind of competition . . .

"Alright man, let's get you on the bench," Thrash's large paw-hand grabbed Roland's shoulder and sat him down on the black leather bench, still warm from its last use.

"Yeah! Trust us bro, you'll thank us later," the orange one said as they both took a few weights off the sides of the barbell, but it didn't seem like they took away nearly enough. But how could Roland refuse at this point, he never really had a spotter before and with both of these muscle-heads watching him there wasn't anything that could really go wrong.

"Alright, but I'm really not used to lifting this much . . ." He braced himself, rubbing his fingers together as he reached up for the bar above him.

"It's cool brah, I got you." Eddie stepped in near his head, reaching out with his paws and placing them just under the bar.

Breathing heavily, Roland pressed up at the smooth metal. It barely moved! But looking up at the strange mixture of anticipation and eagerness on the orange dog like face above him, he decided to go for it. It pressed his arms down quickly as soon as it came off the props . . .

"There ya go little man! Just bring it back up. Yeah, nice and steady," his cliched voice was strangely motivating, and Roland grit his teeth and shoved, ears ringing with the strain as he actually did it, lifting the heavy metal bar straight back above him.

"Alright bro-heim. Let's go for ten!" the black husky nodded, looking down and bobbing his head. The man strained as they counted each one of his tortuous exertions. After he finished nine he didn't think he could do any more, the bar was just pressing his arms down and they felt like wet noodles under its crushing weight.

"You're there dude. Just one more," Eddy's paws wrapped under the bar, not actually pulling up, but more for some kind of emotional support. The big animal pulled himself in tighter until something warm pressed against the top of Roland's head. His nostrils flared out and he gritted out a snarl as he pushed and the bar rose up one more time. There was a strange musky odor in the air, but he was too busy to tell what it was as he shouted out and pushed the barbell up just high enough to clang back into its metal sockets.

As he lay there panting, the room spun around him, but he slowly became aware of what was pushing against the top of his head: the taut fabric of the guy's bulging shorts. . . Before he had long to think about it a black and white animal paw pulled up at his arm, lifting him to his feet. "Nice going little bro. You beat your record man!" his thin lips curled up in a smile as he wrapped a heavy furred arm around the tired man's shoulders.

"How . . . how much was that?" Roland asked, seeing that there were more weights than he had even thought possible still on the bar.

"One eighty man," the bandana wearing one punched him playfully in the chest, almost knocking the wind out of him. "Told ya we'd help." They gave each other a most excellent high five as they nodded.

"Oh, wow . . ." Roland didn't know what to say, his muscles were burning and he was still gasping for air. "Hey are you guys, you know, like, a couple?"

"What!? No way man. That'd be totally gay."

"Yeah dude. We're just bros," they looked down at him.

"So like . . . family?" Roland could barely think straight, but he looked around, realizing that no one else in the gym seemed to be looking at him even though he was talking to two dangerously stereotypical talking . . . dog-things.

"Naw dawg. Bros," Thrash said, waving his pawed hand slowly as if that explained everything. "Anyways, we're gonna go get some protein and stretch out. See you tomorrow little dude," and with that, the dynamic duo left him panting there on the bench in his own personal unreality.

It was really weird though. He felt good. His arms tingled like they never had after his other work outs, and the air still hung heavy with the scent of exertion, and some other musky animal smell that the 'bros' had left in their wake. Even if he had no clue what they were doing here, he had to admit, they were pretty good trainers, and cost efficient too.

He showered off and went home. Then he tried peddling around town, delivering his resumes like some old fashioned kind of hand to hand spam. But even as he got home, his mind was still thinking about that tenth rep, the warm pressure against the back of his head and that musky scent.

As he laid down in his bed, trying to get to sleep, he couldn't get that sensation out of his mind and his hand slid down of its own accord towards his stiffening member. He drifted off into lusty dreams of strong paws and triumphant straining exertion.

* * *

The next day started much like any other, but as Roland thought back, it seemed that everything that had happened yesterday must have been a weird dream. It just didn't seem possible. Making himself a simple breakfast, Roland thought about it. His arms still ached a little, so he must have been lifting weights, and he still vividly remembered the feeling of those strong paws grabbing him. . . He resolved to find some answers today at the gym if the strange duo was even there.

And of course they were, just like they were everyday. And no one seemed to care at all. Today they were just over on the mats doing non-stop push-ups and sit-ups while one cheered other on. It seemed a lot louder than he remembered it being, but still, no one else really took notice. This time Roland tried asking the manager about it, and the old mustachioed man set down his newspaper and looked up at him.

"Yeah, there's those guys who always hang in the back. Kinda look like miscreants, but they never cause any trouble," the old man grumbled out none too enthusiastically.

"Yes, but don't you see anything wrong with them?" Roland tried to guide the conversation without making himself sound like an idiot.

"Look bud, you pay on time. I like that. But if you're gonna be a bigot then you can get the fuck out," he set down his newspaper and stared up at Roland with furrowed brows.

"No! Uhh, not like that I was just . . . I know they're not gay or anything . . ." he linguistically backpedaled as the manager raised his beetled brow at him. "It's uhh, nothing. Sorry for bothering you." Roland walked away, cheeks burning. Well, if he couldn't get answers from anyone else he was just going to have to try asking the "bros" themselves again. And anyways . . . he had gotten a really good workout last time even if he hadn't got any answers . . .

"Hey little dude! You're back!" they looked up at him, pausing in one of their sets as he approached with a finger raised.

"Yeah, I sure am,' Roland began hesitantly. "I was just wondering, uhh, where are you guys from?" he hedged his bet on a simple question that might lead to worthwhile results.

"We're from Cali man."

"Yeah bro. West coast all the way!" they took the time to pound their fists together and bob their heads as if to an unseen cassette operated boombox.

"Oh, uhh, cool. And your families?" There had to be some way of breaching the subject without sounding like a putz . . .

"You know, just normal brah." the orange one scratched his ears atop his bandana clad head.

"You ready to do some sets!?" the other dog boomed in, interrupting any form of non hype-based conversation.

"You know I am! You with us little bro?" Eddy looked back towards Roland expectantly.

"Well I . . . Sure. Yeah," Roland stammered; no further in solving the mystery as they took to the mats.

"Alright skinny man. Today you're gonna do sit ups." They guided him onto the slightly gritty old foam as he laid down on his back. Sit ups weren't bad . . .

"Yeah, 200 of em!" Thrash chimed in. "Gonna get real bro!" He grabbed his wide strong paws around the man's ankles and leaned in between his legs as Eddie knelt near his head.

Roland didn't have any time to object before he found himself pulling himself up over and over again, legs braced by the warm paws of the black and white furred husky. The orange one counted his reps, adding addictive little shouts of praise. But as soon as he neared 50, Roland knew that this was impossible. His abs felt like they were burning in the worst way possible. You'd have to be some kind of star athlete to complete something like this.

"Feel the burn dude!" the beast holding his legs leaned in, his furry chest pressing up against Roland's legs.

"Yeah brah, you're doin' it! 58, 59 . . ." the orange one cheered him on even as his straining sit ups got slower and slower.

His breath was coming out in ragged wheezes as he approached 100. And he was about to call it quits and flop out when the one bracing him bent his animal head in between his legs, furry chin resting against his package as he growled out. "Half way there little dude. You got this." The gruff reverberations through Thrash's throat tickled his groin and made his heart pulse. When he rose to a full sit up he could feel the guy's cold wet nose against his belly. Every time the animal muzzle seemed to huff and sniff at him in an dog-like fashion.

He was so distracted by the strange sensation that he soon realized he was already past 140, and his abs were burning, but now in a glorious way.

" 151. 152. There you go man!" the orange one shouted out. "153. Really get your blood pumping! 154. Just feel it!" Roland could hear Eddy's fluffy curled tail thumping against the mat as he crouched. And it was weird, he could feel the blood pumping through his body, and there was a strange but equally exhilarating smell building up in the air. It smelt like success.

"Now you got the rhythm bro. Just finish it on out!" The black one began squeezing his paws against them man with every completed rep and pulled himself tighter, making his warm pressure rub against Roland's crotch. But the man was far too absorbed in getting to that perfect round bicentennial finish line.

"198. 199. 200! Totally rad job man." The bandanna clad orange one patted his shoulder as he collapsed back, the harsh lights on the ceiling swimming around in his vision as he panted.

"Knew you could do it bro," the black furred one adjusted his headband, pulling back and sliding out from between Roland's legs with the feeling of his silky fur brushing over the man's now sweaty flesh.

It was only when he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position did Roland notice what all his blood had been rushing into. He tried to cover up his erection with a hand, but realizing that it would be too conspicuous, he just brought his legs up to his chest awkwardly. God, the guy's furry chin had been pressed right against it the whole time . . .

"Looks like you need to stretch out and get some protein man."

"Come on little dude!" They both lifted up with paw-hands under his shoulders despite his protestations. Thankfully, neither one commented on his tented shorts, and even though he knew their stance on being gay, he thought he saw a bit of a bulge in both of their tight garments as well . . .

They reached the old table in the very back of the locker room with both of the brotastical animals congratulating him on his tubular performance.

Who talked like that anymore . . . ?

"So, do you guys uhh, have like protein shakes or . . ."

"Naw dawg, we do protein while we stretch. Saves time." The orange husky tugged at the hem of his shorts.

"Yeah man. Great way to end a workout sesh." They both tugged off their shorts unceremoniously and looked up at the man.

What rested between their legs surprised him, much more than the fact that they were getting naked nowhere near their lockers in order to do stretches. They had plump furry white sheaths and huge tight fuzzy balls nestled underneath, more like an animal's member than a human's. There was a bright reddish point of flesh just barely sticking out of the black furred one's, filling the air with the musky smell of delicious male exertion and husky lust.

"Woah. I thought you guys weren't gay . . ." Roland paused. This was just getting too surreal.

"Dude, this is totally not gay." The orange one said, rubbing in at his sheath with a broad paw.

"Yeah man. You gotta bulk up somehow," the dark one reached forward, tugging down at Roland's shorts.

"I don't think you guys understand what 'gay' means . . ." This was so unbelievable. These guys were living in a whole other reality. Roland felt like he should just stomp his foot down and demand some semblance of reason, but as his workout shorts fell to the floor, followed by his shirt, the others just pressed in against him, furry bodies rubbing against his bare skin.

"No man, trust us. You'll like, love this." The phrase was stated almost as a refutation as the orange husky leaned in and lapped across the man's lips before they embraced, sliding into a deep "totally hetero" kiss. Eddy's tongue was so long and flexible, and it lapped in with sloppy pressing licks against the inside of Roland's stunned mouth as he could feel the strange guy's animal teeth. His erection rubbed against the fur of the plump white sheath as he felt the slickness of Eddie's red pointed animal member begin to pulse out a little by little as they groaned into each other's mouths. He could have pulled back, but it did feel pretty nice . . .

"Yeah little bro. We totally know what we're doing." Thrash's member was also filling the air with its cloying animal smell as he knelt down behind the man, collar jingling as he sniffed at Roland's ass with his panting dog-like muzzle, taking in the sweaty male scent as he opened his mouth and let his tongue slide slowly across his asshole.

His whole body stiffened at the alien contact as his surprised complaint was lost in his slurping hot wet kiss. The pink hot slip of warm canine flesh licked in again and again as Eddie pulled him in tighter and his ass began to twitch and quiver. He had to admit; it felt amazing. Like . . . totally radical.

Muscles tensing all over his body, Roland felt the tongue shove in, sliding past his clenched ring of flesh and making his eyes water as he writhed around the hot slippery intruder. A clawed hand reached under him and enveloped his balls, squeezing gently as Thrash lapped in and out with teasing lashes that made his whole body shiver with unbelievable sensation.

Pulling his head back, Eddie squeezed his shoulders in tight and then let him go. "You're a natural bro," he rumbled. "I can feel it already." He reached down with one massive leathery padded hand and grasped both of their members, slowly pumping down their lengths as his own pink rod slid out longer, something yet unseen swelling and pressing out taut against his sheath.

"Dude . . ." was the only word that drifted from Roland's lips, and he couldn't quite explain why he'd said it other than the overwhelming pleasure and surprise as he saw the massive throbbing hard knot of flesh push out from the orange husky's sheath, and felt the muzzle behind him shove inside of his ass one last time, huffing hot air against his skin before squeezing his balls and rising to his feet.

"Alright bro. Let's get to that protein." Their careful paws lifted his body easily, even though Roland felt heavier than he remembered being, and the dog-guys didn't seem quite as large . . . They set him on the small old wooden table in the back, and then Eddie pulled Roland's legs open wide by the knees and let his large throbbing cock rest against the panting man's balls

"Yeah dog," Thrash moved in towards his head, letting his large white testes rest on his hair as that virile masculine scent seared into Roland's mind. "Just gotta get to those post workout stretches."

The dizzy man let out a garbled noise that could be roughly interpreted as "groovy," before grinding his teeth together, tendons straining out in his neck as Eddie lowered the tip of his girthy member with his paw, lined it up with the man's asshole, and slowly pressed in. The feeling of that massive red spire of flesh cramming itself into his still moist hole made electric tingles rise up his spine. In one smooth long stroke, the panting husky pushed inside of him until his hot knot of flesh bumped up against Roland's clenching orifice.

From the other side, Thrash pulled back his head, teasing the tip of his bulging animal member around Roland's lips before ramming in with a wet squelch. The taste was amazing; a perfect blend of salty maleness with an animal musk entwined with it and it made his jaws ache as it pressed in further and further while the black panting husky began to rock his hips, tail wagging behind him.

"Mmmmph. There you go dawg. Staring to bulk up. Just feel the burn." Eddie's paws grasped around Roland's tightening legs as he pistoned his member inside of his clenching orifice. The man's thighs began to swell and soon a dusting of snow white fur floofed out in a pleasured rush, running all the way up and growing around his stretched pink anus. Around the outside of his legs a rich slate gray coat pushed out into existence as his muscles swelled below it, tensing with every slam against his ass, hot canine knot beginning to stretch out his flesh.

"Yeah bro. No pain no gain." Their cliched speech made Roland's head feel strange, all warm and fuzzy as that tapered cock swabbed his throat. His ears began to wriggle, tugging longer and thinner as they pulled back along his head, gaining a velveteen blue-gray coat of fuzz. A new taste welled up in his mouth, hot slick canine pre making him growl around the meaty length as his face pressed out into a short muzzle and his nose darkened and started sniffing against Thrash's heavy white balls.

Roland's body writhed as he was stretched out in a way he never had been before. His chest heaved as white and gray fur burst into existence, creeping down his now chiseled abs and then up his chest, engulfing his pink rounded nipples. He was groaning out every time the knot pressed against his clenching ass, stretching him a little bit wider before pulling back and ramming in again. Eddie's hands rubbed down his legs, grasping the growing thick fur on his calves and then taking his feet into a vice-like grip. His toes clenched and then bulged out, swelling into strong padded paws as similarly tough leathery bases formed on his heels and the balls of his feet. Roland's new paw-feet cracked out wider as his nails darkened and condensed into solid dark claws that wriggled as he thought about how totally sweet they must look. He was going to have to do some squats tomorrow.

Thrash's hands reached from above and pulled against Roland's arms, shoving his meaty member deeper and deeper into the man's stretched maw. His fingers intertwined with the man's as they too swelled out into grasping paws, bulging leathery pads squeezing and pulling as his biceps bulked up and a wave of gray and white cascaded down his arms while they swelled with corded muscles. "Welcome to the gun show brah." The husky's balls were beginning to clench and writhe, and their musky scent just made Roland drool around the hot shaft spreading his jaws impossibly wide as his face pushed out longer.

"Alright dude. Just work on that stretching." Eddy's knot was driving deeper and deeper, making Roland 's entire body tremble every time it almost slipped inside of his hot writhing depths. He knew he could do it, and he rocked himself back against that throbbing cock, feeling his insides clench and writhe as their body rocking rhythm became slow and firm. His whole form looked so much like theirs now. Still a little smaller, but starting to bulge out with enough muscles to make a body-builder blush. That knot was just so big though . . .

Just then, something strange and cracking pushed out from under him, causing his anus to twist and contract. The wagging base of his tail popped out further and further, straining his flesh along with it. That little extra tug of muscle was all that Eddie needed, and the big husky groaned and pressed forward, knot slamming home as fluffy canine fur burst into existence along the man's tail and his insides clenched in long hard pulls against the flesh now locked inside of him while the virile male's balls slapped against his fluffy ass. Roland's own testes began to bulge out, rubbing against the soft belly fur on Eddy's tight abs as his own tightening sack gained a thin frosting of whiteness while his skin formed a nice loose sheath around the base of his bobbing leaking member.

Roland's jaw finally cracked out just long enough for the grunting black and white husky to slam forward, his knot pushing past the new dog's long canine teeth that closed behind it as his throat began to wriggle and writhe around the hot maleness lodged in his gullet. Roland's now long flat tongue lapped at greedily as he felt the heavy balls against his black nose pull up and clench. "Oh man. Bro. Bro, I'm gonna . . ." and with that the red rod of flesh, began to jerk and tug wildly as it unloaded hot spurts of musky male essence down Roland's eager throat.

"Unnngh. Me too dog." and then Eddy slammed in one last time, paws clamped around his new bro's knees as he jolted out pressured waves of jizzum into his hot and strong wildly contracting insides while the man's anus squeezed and writhed around his turgid knot.

The heat ricocheted around inside Roland's body with each glorious spurt of masculinity as his member began to twitch and swell, turning a shade of sweet carmine as his rounded head tapered into a totally brotastic point. More than that though, his senses went wild as a knot of bulging crimson flesh pushed out from his sheath, stretching the jostling skin taut as Eddy reached in and grasped his paw firmly around the forming canine bulb.

That was it. Roland growled around the sweltering member lodged in his muzzle as he bucked his hips, balls churning against Eddie's strong hips as he spattered out thick hot ropes of canine bliss all over the three of them. They continued pumping against each other, dicks jerking as Roland's muscles bulged and swelled out into sizes to matched their own. Thrash and Eddy's tongues hung out of their mouths as they both groaned out and Roland's quivering new body milked them both for every last ounce of their potent seed.

"Looking good bro," the black husky carefully slid back, wincing as the once man's sharp teeth slid over his knot. Without another word he leaned in and began lapping up the cooling seed off of the strong white furred chest below him.

"Mmmmm. Yeah dude. You got a ripped bod." Knot still lodged in the man, Eddy leaned in and joined Thrash in licking up the strings of musky seed.

Roland coughed, licking his pink tongue across his chops as he lay back. "Thanks bro. Totally gnarly stretch sesh," he grinned as his bros finished cleaning him off before licking a stray fleck of male musk off of Thrash's cheek, fuzzy tail wagging.

"Hold on bro," Eddy tensed against him, pulling back slowly as his still stuck knot pulled and strained at his flesh before suddenly stretching him wide and sliding out with a hot pop, making the new member of the trio yelp as his ass clenched at nothingness.

"Dudes, I'll totally need to stretch more tomorrow." Roland panted out, hands running over his chiseled body. It just felt so good.

"I know right? Makes you feel great after a day of workin' the gym." They helped him off the table, Eddy's hand clenching tightly against his ass as they scooped up their shorts and then walked over to the lockers by the showers, red members bobbing as they slowly receded back into their soft white sheaths.

There was the steam from some of the other showers in use, but no one seemed to notice the muscle-bound trio as they walked up laughing and bumping fists. They pried open one of the old rusty lockers that didn't even have a lock, and tossed in their accumulated shorts, even peeling off their respective head adornments. Then Eddy reached in and pulled out a simple chain collar with a dangling golden tag.

"Here dawg, you need to work on your swag." They clasped it snugly around their new padre's neck. It fit like it was designed for him, and the shining gaudy metal tag read 'R-Dawg.'

"Thanks bros, I like, totally owe you one."

"No sweat R-dawg."

They walked off into the showers and helped wash each other's epic bods, letting their paws trace around and lather up their thick fur as the smell of musky male dog rose around them.

R-Dawg's tail wagged as he thought about what was coming next. He was totally pumped to really get out there and rip up those weights.