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The music was loud, louder than for the Arctic wolf's tastes, but it made the company insufferable. That and the steady flow of booze made the atmosphere one of a drunkard's party; Ingolfr, a wolf just reaching the cusp of his twenties, found himself nursing what now must have been a flat soda as he listened to the whiny drone of some girl who had had far too many shots.

"So... your name is 'in golfer'?" She slurred, spilling half of whatever conction had been in her glass over the floor and the hem of her bumblebee costume. The wolf sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose,

"No, Ingolfr not in golfer... It's a Nordic name, you know, from the settlers of Iceland? My parents were somewhat stuck in their history books..." The drunk zebra mare just giggled obscenely, clearly wanting but much too out of her mind to realise the true deal,

"That's so funny!" She slapped his shoulder with too much force, hiccupping up a belch that was rank with alcohol. Peering at her glass oddly Ingolfr could almost hear the cogs whirring in her booze-addled brain as she tried to figure out where her drink was going if she wasn't drinking it. She seemed to shrug this off though, and turned those hungry eyes back to the slim built wolf who squirmed, unnerved that he was being pestered in such a way. "So..." She said, continuing were her campaign to win Ingolfr's favour, "You want to go somewhere a bit more private?"

"I think the wolf's already got a date for the evening." The voice had snuck up from behind Ingolfr, and it made the furs along the back of his neck stand on end in sudden fright. The zebra mare gave the oddest look behind the wolf and an arm draped itself over Ingolfr's slender shoulders, "I think the leopard chatting to the horse with highlights in his mane might be more interested." With this new information, she staggered herself off, leaving Ingolfr and the mystery fur in peace. A smile crept across his muzzle,

"Thanks, my knight in shining armour."

"More like you're vampire in fancy clothes," Ingolfr turned around on the spot, pivoting to face the owner of his saving voice. A grinning bat faced him, his teeth gleaming in the hazy darkness of strobe lights and neon glow-sticks that people swung about carelessly. The male was a few inches taller than the wolf on account of his age being that of five years greater than Ingolfr, with a fuller stature that allowed him to carry himself with greater confidence; he was dressed in clothes that Ingolfr would have accounted to a lord's tastes, perhaps one that had been brought right out of a museum from an eighteenth century period. Compared to the wolf's costume, it was far more detailed and elegant. All he had dressed as was a slutty witch, with the shortest black miniskirt accompanied with a high-cut top that barely covered the upper part of his chest. He tied it all off with a simple witch's hat, pointed and angled backwards at a curve, buckled with a purple ribbon. Around the base of his tail was tied a matching ribbon, threaded through a small tinkling brass bell that tingled whenever his tail wagged. Right now, it chimed out its own tune that rose above the music that shook with far too much bass.

"You look good..." Ingolfr slurred, his paws running up this new male's chest, finding their way beneath the bat's cloak, "Is the sexy vampire Zarr going to do some sucking tonight then?"

"Oh goodness no, but doesn't mean I won't have my fill..." He gave a suggestive wink, his mouth mere inches away from the wolf's neck, the breath trailing down his nape so softly, "You look good too, though I'm sure you'll look much better on your hands and knees."

"You'd have to put me there first." Ingolfr panted, trying his best to keep himself from launching himself at the bat. Roaming paws snuck their way down to the wolf's crotch, groping beneath the skirt and fondling Ingolfr's balls and making him stand on his toes as the bat rolled them between his fingers.

"I have my ways."

Ingolfr didn't doubt him, breathing hard as strangers surrounded him in an unknown place. He'd only come because the bat had made him tag along, coming on the prospect of perhaps a little fun, but this was more intense than he'd imagined. The bat had been forward, absurdly so, but the wolf was loving it. The paw beneath his skirt became more forceful, pushing past the panties and going for gold. The other paw, alone in its being, snuck up the smaller male's chest, finding the pert nipples and pinching them ever so delicately between forefinger and thumb. Zarr tweaked that nub as he tuned his motions up with his paw downstairs; he found the sheath and pushed a finger inward, swirling the tip around the tapering tip in languid circles. Ingolfr shuddered, pressing himself close against the dominant guy, his paws groping at the muscled torso in desperation as they shared the intimate moment.

With a slight tug, Zarr took a grip of Ingolfr's sheath, massaging the fleshy, fuzzy tube and pulling it away,

"Come with me... Mark's bedroom has been dubbed 'the dark room'." Ingolfr gave him a curious look, so he explained further, with a low sultry whisper, "Where the guys go to bang the crap out of their bitches."

The wolf giggled, blushing heavily as he was led through the crowd of dancing furs, turning to go through a hallway that led to a row of doors on either side. One, out of them all, was slightly ajar and darkened inside. A piece of paper had been haphazardly slapped onto its front at eye level, a message on it, written in a scrawl of marker pen, reading 'The Dark Room' followed by three crosses. A couple were hanging outside it, one of them hastily pulling up his jeans and zipping himself away as a girl adjusted her bra, both of them clearly embarrassed at what they did. Zarr gave a slight chuckle as they passed by, avoiding eye contact as the new couple made their way inside. The bat practically slung the wolf into the room, slamming the door shut behind them with a kick of his heel. Ingolfr took the initiative and crawled up along the bed, the duvet having already been dishevelled enough to slope off and fall to one side. The bed itself had been messed up pretty badly too, and the covers had come loose along one corner to reveal the mattress beneath. Ingolfr leant back onto an elbow, hugging a pillow to his chest as his ass was left facing upwards, presented cutely from beneath the skirt. The bat growled eagerly, letting the cloak he was wearing drop to the floor, leaving him dressed in his posh shorts and ornate waist coat.

"What are you still doing in your clothes? Get stripping fag."

Keen to please, the wolf scrabbled to remove his clothes, tossing aside his witch's hat and slipping off the top. Zarr groped his groin openly as he watched, staring with an intimidating leer as he gazed upon the gradually more naked form of the submissive wolf. He let himself grow, the bulge growing to a nice size as his paw stroked over the confined member. Ingolfr finished taking off his clothes, finally slipping off the skirt and panties in one flourish, biting them between his teeth before dropping them off to one side. Now bare and vulnerable beneath the bat's greedy glare, he shivered in anticipation. In the dark shadows, his off-white fur shone through, save for the knotted pattern of black smudges that ran down his forearms, the odd colouration of his fur ending at his paws. Unlike the bat, whose fur was a greyed shade, Ingolfr's fur was glossy despite its seemingly darker hue. He looked back over his shoulder, watching as Zarr sauntered over, his beaming grin as wide as ever - he had already discarded his waist coat, and was mid-way in the process of taking off the shorts, kicking them aside. Kneeling down upon the bed, he shifted so that he had turned around facing the foot of the bed, his back towards the headboard and Ingolfr's gaze. He lowered himself down onto the wolf's face, making sure to get that muzzle slipping up between his cheeks,

"Get licking, I want to get warmed up." Ingolfr groaned, the sound muffled in the bat's cleft. At first he felt nothing, but Zarr wasn't having any rebellion. He gripped the wolf's balls within one paw and squeezed just tight enough to cause discomfort. The body beneath him shifted and writhed,

"I ain't kidding slut; get that tongue up in there!" His tone was frighteningly powerful and exuded as much confidence as he possessed before. He felt the wet lapping of a tongue against his musky backside, and he mumbled out a moan, feeling the wriggling muscle push past the rim and sampling the sweeter, darker tastes.

As Ingolfr got to work on Zarr's hole, the bat took it upon himself to prepare his pet for what was to come. He clawed at the wolf's ass, lifting up the legs and pulling them back so that he was bent over himself. The dominating bat circled a finger around the exposed hole, pressing in ever so slightly when he came towards the centre. The rim was a soft pink, but screamed to be fucked hard, spread apart over the bat's manhood. Zarr held back his shudder of lust as he got himself comfortable on the wolf's face, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking along them finely. Once he deemed them wet enough, he put them back to the wolf's hole, pressing them in more than he had first dared and letting them plunge past the entrance and deeper inside. Below him, stuck eating his ass out, Ingolfr grunted, shifting a little as he was forced to get quickly used to the intruding fingers. He moaned greater still when a second finger was roughly added to the first, opened up in a scissor-like motion and making that hole stretch ever wider. Still the wolf licked on, managing to delve deeper with each slick push of his tongue, tastes of earthiness and bitter tangs rolling through his mouth. He gasped, borderline yelping when yet another abrupt finger was added by the brutish male that sat astride his chest, pushing his butt back into his face with vigour. Three fingers, working their way slowly into and out of that begging hole, the rim pulling along the digits - it was enough to set the wolf on edge, unable to restrain himself as he increased his efforts, slobbering as much as a pup might. The jingle of his bell rang out as his ass quaked with the rampant need, not satisfied with just fingers poking into his inner walls and seeking out that sweet spot.

Zarr was quick to sense the growing arousal from the wolf as Ingolfr's cock had broken free of its sheath, and now it dribbled across his stomach, untouched but throbbing from the attention to his behind. The bat rubbed his own erection, larger than the wolf's by comparison, and stroked along the thick inches with much temptation and with so many possibilities as to what to do next. Perhaps he might decide to fuck the wolf's skull into the bed, really driving down hard into his throat, or maybe he'd toy with his pet for a little longer, keep him squirming on edge trapped beneath his ass, sucking in stale pants of sweaty air. He knew the bitch was a sucker for heady scents and sweltering aromas, so he would sure enjoy it anyway. But no, Zarr's cock was craving for a warm hole to fill, and longed to feel the familiar caresses of their favourite bitch clenching down onto them. The bat finally lifted himself off of the wolf, Ingolfr immediately inhaling deep breaths of air, as fresh as it could have been in the dank room.

"Lift your ass up higher cunt," Zarr slapped one of the wolf's soft, tender cheeks, making him yelp, "I want to be standing over you fucking your pussy."

Ingolfr did his best to raise his ass up further, leaning back onto the upper part of his back. It was a difficult position to maintain, but he would have gone to greater lengths to please his master had he asked so. It was the domination he loved most, the total control and possession, to be commanded and to not question why but to simply do. Zarr had perfected him swiftly into the best slave he could be, and the two indulged each other so expertly.

Zarr stood up, shifting around the wolf on the bed as it dipped in unpredictable ways until he finally brought himself into position over his pet, looking down with a dirty look of pure desire. He let the head of his cock slap against the begging hole, tapping it lightly so that slapping sounds filled the room, drowned out almost by the pumping music which still surrounded them. Cheers could be heard through the walls, but Zarr and Ingolfr were now in a much more intimate world of their own, as though they were confined now to a bubble of sex, untouched and untainted by drunken Halloween stupidity beyond them.

Easing himself down, Zarr pressed his head into the hole, letting the pre spurt across the rim to slicken the passage he was about to enter. With a little force and persistence, his manhood popped past the ring, sucked inside then by the shape of his member until an inch was already buried before either of them realised. Ingolfr moaned, biting his lip and gripping the bed sheets within his paws, pulling them up more than they already were; he could feel every inch, sliding into him deeper and deeper, pushed downwards by the bat's sinking weight. His hole stretched wider than before, three fingers having not quite been enough as the cock continued to increase in girth. He refused as a point of principle not to touch his own cock, wanting to see how long he could ride out the pleasure before it'd become inevitably too much.

The bat's balls rested against the base of Ingolfr's tail, making a tinkle sound as the bell was jostled, signalling that he was now impaled fully on his master's meat. He groaned loudly, a long sound as he twitched his hole to test the feeling, the sensations running along every strand of his body in a hyper state. These jolts escalated into spikes of pleasure that shook along his system with great ferocity, and this was without Zarr moving. As the bat began to pull out, only to then push back in again with slow, short thrusts, it was enough to get the wolf's eyes rolling into the back of his head. He leant his head back against the firm mattress, grunting as Zarr's pumps became harder and longer. It wouldn't take him long until their rhythm was set at one of a brutal pace, where Ingolfr could only compare him to that of a jackhammer, repeatedly slamming away at his hips with such intensity that the wolf very much was nearly bouncing from where he was propped up. He had thought this would be the crowning glory and that it couldn't get any better than this, but Zarr seemed to have more extensive plans. He lifted a footpaw, bringing it to the wolf's muzzle, and pushing a few toes inside. Shocked, Ingolfr had a moment of surprise that was quickly overcome with blissful need, suckling along the toes and moving to lick and lap at the sole and heel. He loved to pay attention to his master's feet - a true sign of submission - and as his ass was ploughed with the power of what might have been a battering ram he was in ecstasy with a footpaw to lick upon. His orgasm was rising fast, but he held off as best he could for Zarr.

They lost track of the time whilst they were fucking, clearly content in their arrangement with Zarr having a warm hole to fuck and a willing mouth to suckle on his footpaws, and Ingolfr happy to have himself used by the bat in any way he wanted. Zarr carried on fucking much like a train, not stopping and not slowing, crashing down against Ingolfr's cheeks and grinding his lap brutally so that his dick twisted and turned inside the hole. Each time he would slam and rub against the wolf's prostate in just that right way that would have him whimpering and begging for more,

"You want more?!" Zarr would snarl, huffing out as he clung to the last few minutes of their rutting, "I'll fucking give you more, you cock hungry whore!"

Then he'd pound away even harder, as though he were trying to pulverise Ingolfr into the bed, to ram him into a quivering state of submission. The need to cum churned pathetically in his groin, but he resisted, knowing it would not please Zarr if he came first. It was a symbol of great rudeness, to cum before one's master had first gotten off. But the bat was closer than the wolf had first thought,

"I'm gonna cum... You want it in your cunt, just like the cum-bucket you are?"

Ingolfr nodded, eager to have his master cum so that he might finally release himself. Zarr growled though, twisting his hips savagely,

"Beg for it then, faggot."

"Please sir!" The wolf yelled, whining desperately and with urgency, "Please cum inside me sir, I want to be your dump sir!"

Zarr roared, his head raised upwards to the ceiling as he shot his load into his pet's ass. He bucked hard against Ingolfr's cheeks, thrusting with the manic energy that came with orgasm, thick gouts of jizz shooting deep into the guts of the wolf. The load, as thick and heavy as it was, began to seep and leak out around the rim, slipping down Ingolfr's taint and then down over his cock. The jetting warmth of bat seed in his ass, that and the increased force of Zarr's pounding, was enough for him to explode over his chest and face, creaming his nut across the bed spread. He moaned aloud, his cries joining to those of Zarr's as the two of them united in one great climax together.

Zarr collapsed back onto the bed, sitting on his haunches as he remained lodged in the wolf's hole, his cock, whilst soft, still hard enough to keep the cum plugged up as best it could. The wolf on the other hand took it upon himself to carry on suckling along the bat's footpaws, taking both of them now and running his tongue over and between them. He ignored his cum-covered face, content and peaceful enough to just enjoy the afterglow of raunchy sex.

Of course, both were unaware as to the horse named Mark, with coloured highlights in his mane, who now stood at the doorway looking at the spent furs with an expression caught between a mixture of disbelief and arousal. He chuckled as Zarr looked up and gave him an uncaring shrug, smiling sheepishly,

"I guess I'll sleep elsewhere then, but you two are so paying the cleaning bill."