FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This is an adult story with very adult themes. If you're not an adult, or cannot handle extreme fetishy contents of nasty scandalous stuff, well, bugger off.

______________________________

The heavy breath of an herbivore sends a cloud of vapor fumes out around a fluff covered muzzle in the cold December air. A thick tailed kangaroo, in his late twenties is illuminated in a dull blue digital light that spills forth from the face of a smartphone clenched tightly in a frost shaken paw. He scrolls through the swirling mass of text messages for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. Something about all this doesn't quite seem right to the roo. He reads a particular message a couple more times before looking around the abandoned alley way. Surely this couldn't be the right address. But there it was, in the black and the cold, the night still as ever.

His fur stood on end in the night air as he panics, thinking he's been stood up for the thousandth time. He looks back at his phone, reading the text message once again, this time slowly. The words from the screen speak sweet promises such as "Meat me for a drink" danced in his head. The misspelling seemed cute at the time... but maybe his blind date just didn't have the wherewithal to get it right... or auto-correct had gotten the better of him. Maybe standing up furs was how this bastard gets his jollies. Well, whatever it was, the address seems to have led to a dead end.

The quiet blackness is suddenly disturbed. A door opens. Light pours forth from somewhere in the dark filed alley. Down one of the street level stairwells, a door under the alley way, birthed forth a pair of drunkards who climbed those stairs up into the wild new world. Two toothy and booze filled raptors, one in a long flowing trench coat, stumbled passed the roo and paying him little mind as they moved to a car in the parking lot across the way. The smell of alcohol was strong on them, and they seemed to be in good spirits. Was there really a bar somewhere down here? Well, now that's interesting. Maybe this horrid evening is salvageable yet!

The roo looks about once more. Looking to see if anyone is watching him, as if being observed would somehow change his mind and stop him from exploring. The alleyway stood empty and quiet once more. Nothing but the creeping darkness stares back at him with the first wisps of snow in the pale light of a burnt out street lamp. Gathering his courage, he takes a step into the darkness. Something nags the back of his mind that he shouldn't be prying, but he continues anyways. As he approaches closer to that stair well, a thick smell of tobacco smoke curls his nostril. Looking down the pit where the two drunkards had come from. To the roo's disappointment, there's really no indication that anything out of the ordinary. The path leads down to an ordinary emergency or maintenance door at the bottom of the stone stair well.

Just about the time the roo gave, turning to walk back out of the alley way, up trying to find a secret that just wasn't there, a sudden clink of glasses and a roar of laughter bursts forth from behind that otherwise bland and ordinary door. It is the only that that kept the striped kangaroo from leaving back whence he came. His curiosity getting the better of him, he starts to descend those steps quietly. His shaky paws turn the handle, and finds it unlocked. The door opens and the pungent stench of booze and cigar smokes swings a solid left hook into the roo's olfactory receptors.

It takes a little bit of time for the roo's eyes to adjust to the light that blasts forth from the now open door. The bar is illuminated with deep red Christmas lights that have been haphazardly strewn along the ceiling. Red EL wire lights up the glass shelves filled with half empty bottles of multi-colored poisons behind a very nice and well-kept stone tabled bar, all ready to be poured into shot glasses for patron consumption. A caramel tan fur covered thick armed camel in a black tank top tends the bar that is besieged by a rough and rugged drinking crowed. His long neck has a few claw shaped scars and a couple scary tattoos run down the length of his arms. A silver metal stud has pierced a nostril on broad camel nose as well as a couple of silver metal rings adorn as his lip and eyebrows. The camel is one scary looking herbivore fitting in with the rest of the predatory clientele.

The bar is decently filled. A couple tables and booths all have a scattering of happy and rambunctious patrons. As the roo made his way into the bar and over to an empty bar stool, he couldn't help but feel the fur on his neck stand on end, that subtle creeping feeling of panic hadn't left, and down here, it simply increases causing the fur on his neck to stand on end. It took him the time from the door to the bar stool, to realize what was so unsettling about all this. It wasn't the dark and creepy empty alley way with a secret. It wasn't the fact that he'd stumbled upon a hidden drinking establishment.

It was a fact a little more obvious than that. The place was packed yet there was not a single other herbivore in the entire place, other than himself and the bartender of course. A group of lions sat in a booth eating a healthy and rather sauce covered portion of ribs that cover their golden furry faces in a sticky BBQ mess and fries and drinking beers. The bar itself is filled with several bears, of the polar, black, and grizzly variety, who chat and drink with wolves and tigers. Cold calculating reptiles, ranging from big bellied alligators to a few scary looking dinosaurs, watch over the bar, laughing and carrying on with their friends. A hyena cackles at the joke a fox had just told it and cheetah sits there smirking, daring not to laugh. An eagle watches the roo come in and sit down with a smirk on its razor sharp beak while waiting for his turn at the pool table during a snake's turn to shoot.

Looking through the bar again from his bar stool in dumbfounded shock, the obvious slaps the roo in his slack jawed face. Why didn't he see it in the beginning when he first came in? His eyes are led to a faded and worn out tin sign that hangs just above the bar's counter top, the words "The Slaughterhouse Pub" were printed in bright dark red letters in a way that is supposed to look the sign had been written in fresh dripping blood. The background of the sign was the silhouette of a cow whose meats of the animal have been outlined by dotted chalk lines upon its body. What a strange, yet horrifying bar sign. It's no wonder that the sign isn't posted outside the door. Even so, the bar seems to be quite popular. There have been rumors of predator only hangouts, but rumors are usually just that.

Fuzzy situates himself on the padding of the bar stool, shifting his weight sending out signals of nervous prey to those hungering eyes that watch him, and waits patiently for the camel to get around to serving him. He's taken this much time out of his night, his blind date seems to be a bust... though why was he being taken to a place like this in the first place boggles his mind, might as well get a drink or two and salvage the night. The kangaroo looks about aimlessly, looking at all the other furs having a good time when he accidentally locks eyes with another patron.

At the opposite side of the bar a pair of brilliant silver spheres that shine like a sun kissed moon on a midnight valley watches the roo boy with an almost claustrophobic intensity. Those big bright silver reptilian eyes that peer into his very soul belong to a particularly mean looking tyrannosaurus rex who continues to stare at the roo, as if tasting him from afar. Black scales adorn the meat eater's massive head who's skin is drawn a little bit taunt with middle age. His stoic threatening face speckled with teeth that poke free from his scaled lips. He nurses a beer and converses with a snake next to him, yet he never takes his eyes off the big fluffy eared heavy tail kangaroo sitting across from the big hulking dinosaur.

The roo gives a shudder when his concentration on his silvery eyed stalker is broken by the beefy camel bartender. "Hey, champ. Don't get much roo's 'round here. Seems you've made a friend" the camel says as he brings an already prepared mixed drink over to the kangaroo. A small glass filled with a soft blue liquid "Compliments of the gentleman at the end there". Fuzzy looks up from the newly offered drink and blinks a little bit. His gaze follows the camel's direction down the bar for the "gentleman" who has graced him with free booze (which is always a quick ticket to a roo's heart).

The soft blue eyes of the kangaroo once again are locked against the stark silver orbs of the T-rex who nods and raises his own glass. With a gulp, the kangaroo takes the drink from the camel with a quiet and timid "Thank you", who smiles at him before going back to tending other patrons. Not one to refuse free booze, he brings the glass up to mimic the dinosaur's toast, thanking him for the liquor before the roo brings the drink up to his own black rubbery muzzle lips.

A sudden taste of raspberry splashes against the roo's taste buds. He gives the glass a confused look as he was expecting a drink from a stranger like this to taste a little bit more strongly of alcohol than what graced his muzzle. Pleased with the flavor, he downs the rest quickly. Fuzzy isn't one for hard liquor, though he isn't for fruity either, but sweet hits pallet on the spot indeed. The roo's thick and heavy tail waggles joyously behind him as he finishes the pleasant tasting liquid.

The night continues for another hour, the roo ordering a couple beers and watching the other patrons have their good times. After sitting for a little bit, just watching the bar's atmosphere, he suddenly feels the urge to pee. He gets up from his seat and follows the signs to the restroom. All the while those silver eyes keep watching him. Even when he rounds the corner into the men's room, the roo could swear he still felt those eyes staring him down, sizing him up.

When the roo passed by him on the way to the restroom, he could smell that thick cigar that sits in the corner of the predator's lips. Toned muscles bulge here and there from shifting his weight as the big male continued a hushed conversation with a cheeseburger eating cobra beside him. The T-rex was strong looking, but he also had a bit of gut to him, like he's keeping a heavy mix of being well fed, drinking lots of beer, and strenuous workouts. A large angular tail rivaled the roo's own impressive length protruded from the dinosaur's back. He had to admit, those deep black scales made him quite attractive.

The roo's stomach suddenly reminds him of his duties, bringing him back to reality. He didn't realize that he was just standing there gawking at the big prehistoric predator from the men's room's entry way. With a heavy blush he heads to the back of restroom. There was only one large bathroom. In place of the usual "male" and "female" sign that a restroom would usually have, it just had the bar's logo upon it with the words "Slaughter House" splashed across the front of the door. There was even that simple silhouette of a bovine and the chocked dotted lines that mark out the various cuts of meat on its body.

As the roo pushes his way into the swinging door, he stumbles a little bit. His head starts to become a little foggy and his vision starts to blur a little bit. That drink he drank must have been super strong. He sticks his paws out to steady himself and get his barring in the slick tiled room. The bathroom itself was just as odd as the bar outside. The floor was covered in smooth freshly waxed white tile, much like a hospital or a large restaurant freezer. Stark dark red tiles shine against the walls, almost looking wet to the touch. A line of sinks are set in a sturdy bar with a big long mirror. On the opposite side lay two stalls, one handicap, line the back along with a couple of urinals. A single light bulb baths the room in a soft red light, keeping with the bar's overall overwhelming red theme.

If the roo wasn't swimming in booze at this point, he would have noticed the rank stench of spilt piss and old grime from a poorly kempt and over used bathroom. This didn't matter at all right now as the room spun and all he wanted to do was take a piss. In a stumbling shamble, the roo makes his way to the large handicap stall, knowing he couldn't stand up straight long enough to hold himself at the urinal. The handicap assistant bars help him stay steady enough to undo his jeans. They drop fully off of his legs onto the dirty tile floor to rest around his ankles. With great care, he takes steady aim at the elusively moving toilet bowl and lands his fluffy rump down with a thunk and a groan. He sticks his tongue out in a look of unavoidable disgust out as he realized he forgot to wipe the seat first before he sat, and with his luck, he sat in some fur's puddle of wet pubic hairs and other grossness.

A loud groan of relief echoes against the tile walls as it fills the empty bathroom when the roo starts his business. Being seated sure helps with the room spinning, making the roo rub against his eyes. He slumps back against the tank of the porcelain throne, his arms holding onto the bars to keep from falling off as he enjoys the relief. That....drink? W...What did the bartender say it was again? His vision shrinks to two long tunnels as he hears the commotion from the bar once more, a sudden cheering from the crowed, before it goes back to being muffled in the background.

The thuds of heavy footfalls ring through the walls of the stalls. Large boots make their way to the sinks, and stop for a little bit. Water pours into the sink. The roo quiets down, just now realizing he isn't alone, but is too drunk to really make the effort to be completely silent. He sits there, quietly waiting to finish peeing. The water turns off and the boots start walking again. Not leaving like the roo was hoping they would, they instead walk to the door of the roo's stall. A black scaled claw grips the top of the stall door... The roo is suddenly cursing that he forgot to even lock it in his haste.

He calls out "O-Occupied..." when the door is opened. His speech is slurred, sluggish, and sloppy and words just refuse to go into his mouth like they are supposed too. In the doorway stands a big brute. A large and imposing black scaled silver eyed Tyrannosaurs-rex with a cigar in his toothy grin, muscles bulging on his arms, and a big gut. Those silver eyes looking down at the roo with a facial expression that a child gets on Christmas morning when they find a plentiful bounty of boons for them left by Santa. The only reply the roo gets to his protest, is the big broad nose of the T-rex coming in close to his face, taking a deep sniff, and a shuddering breath of ecstasy as he retorts "Mmmmeat..." in a harsh guttural whisper.

The intoxicated prey gulps, his ears splay, the fur on the back of his neck stands on end and he squeaks out in fear, easily intimidated by the large male in front of him, as a giant black claw grips his snoot and yanks his head forward. He nearly falls off the toilet, losing control of most of his body. Those strong claws push his muzzle up underneath that scaled beefy arm, lodging it deep into a musky abyss.

His world keeps spinning, now with the flavors of smoke and fresh dinosaur musk and sweat. He feels unseen claws work the shirt off of him, and start rubbing his fur. A deep guttural growl and a thick tongue licking his long sensitive ears makes the prey item shudder and gasp into that armpit. "Start licking, meat" Comes from his tormentor, and the roo obeys unquestioningly. The long flat roo tongue starts to press against that stench ridden skin under the thick dino's arm.

The stark taste of a killer in his prime explodes across the roo's brain. The dino lets him stew in that raunchy pungent musk for a time while he explores his newest victim's body with his rough scaled claws. The roo's fur is soft and silky to the touch. He takes in another deep breath, enjoying the smell of the intoxicated herbivore in fear. It's been a long time since he's seen a roo around, and this time, he wasn't going to let 'em just "hop away".

The licking of the big strong male's underarm slows to a near dead stop. The tunnel the roo has been looking through has gotten longer and longer. The room still spins and he nearly gags on the harsh smells assaulting his muzzle. It isn't till he starts to succumb to the creeping darkness that he puts together that his free drink might have been spiked...

With a cocky smirk, the dino grips the roo by the base of his ears and pulls his head back to look at him with his silvery steely gaze. The kangaroo has a dumb blank look on his face. His domesticated features are graced with drooped eyelids and a slack jaw. His tong lolls out of his mouth in a lewd fashion and drool bridges from the dinosaur's armpit to roo's own muzzle fur that is now covered in the roo's own slobber and the dino's sweat, while the kangaroo starts to drool into his own lap. It seems that the rufee in the kanga's drink has finally hit full swing, how fitting.

The T-rex gives a low chuckle. He just loves how dumb and silly roo's look, especially when they are unconscious. He plays with Fuzzy's muzzle a bit. The rex pushes his pudgy claw fingers into the roo's muzzle, feeling around at how wet and smooth those lips and tongue are. With a yank on his ears and his other claw on his chin, he turns the kangaroo's head into a makeshift puppet. The deep rumbling of the saur's gravelly voice calls out to the unconscious roo. "So my little slab of meat, are you enjoying the Slaughter House Pub?" The slack jawed roo's head, propped up by the dino's claws as a crude marionette, gives a clumsy, yet eager, nod.

In a mockingly high pitched voice, the dino uses the roo to answer his own questions like a bad ventriloquist's show. "Why yes, Mr. Donny, I am! Thank you for taking time out of your VERY busy day to come play with me." With a laugh the dinosaur grins "Please, little one, call me 'Master' or 'Daddy', and anytime. I love getting a chance to lend my attention and teachings to such delicious livestock." "Yes, daddy. Thank you, sir." Replies the unconscious roo in Donny's high pitched mocking voice. The husky T-Rex gives a big sharp toothed smile; roo's make the best and most silly hand puppets, even if they are a bit slobbery. "Fancy a smooch-a-roo?" the puppet surveys the puppeteer.

With a growl, the T-rex returns a "Don't mind if I do..." and leans, pressing his thick scaly hide against the drugged out roo boy. His toothy maw presses into the slack jaw of the roo, opening it with ease before filling the prey's mouth with a thick blue spit covered muscle. The dinosaur moans loudly at the taste of the roo's inner lining as he pants hotly over the roo's face. The fact that the roo is so limp and slack, that tongue so warm yet unrelenting, letting him do whatever he likes as he explores that long snoot from the inside, gives the big prehistoric predator a rush. He's addicted to his power over sexy little prey boys, especially when he uses them like puppets. His grip on the boy's long ears keeps that head up straight, positioning the sleeping roo as if he was kissing back on his own volition. The saur's other clawed hand rubs down on the roo's thick graceful neck.

Those heavy thick warm claw fingers run down the roo's soft fluffy chest, dotted with little slick spots of grass eating drool. He keeps kissing that loose muzzle, his tongue playing over those ridiculously flat buck teeth. With a chuckle, he grips the roo's upside down goolies, and gives them a firm squeeze. He just loves that strange "eggs over sausage" anatomy, rolling those ovals around In his heavy grip. He tugs on that sheath for a bit, slowly rubbing his rough scaled claws over it, feeling that silky private crotch fuzz and exploring the hardening member within the fleshy tube. As he sizes the roo's manhood up, Donny becomes pleased with his discoveries. He even genuinely asks the knocked out roo "How do you even please ANYONE with this tiny cocktail wienie? If I were you, I'd be greatly embarrassed." The slutty sleeping kangaroo boy's bits being quite a bit smaller than his own very impressive set simply adds to the tyrannosaurus-rex's power trip.

The ancient predator chuckles a deep chest rattling laugh as he slides the roo down further on the toilet. A loud wet plop can be heard as part of the roo's tail base sinks into the unflushed toilet bowl as his body is shifted in a way that puts that bubbly roo rump into the hips of that strong dinosaur. "Please, Sir...." the unconscious roo begs in that all too familiar high-pitched mocking voice "Please, big carnivore, please let me serve the stronger species. I'm so worthless as prey, let me make you feel good like food should do! I want to be part of something more than myself, sir." The rex growls as he grinds his hips against the roo's rump to each word as he turns himself on more and more with his hand puppet.

Even though he knows he's just talking to himself, he can't help but get off to making sexy prey items his playful little playthings. His own member throbs as it's painfully trapped in his jeans. He presses his growing bulge up against the roo's exposed rump. "Maybe I figured out why you came down here, my tasty morsel. Maybe you were so embarrassed of the size of your useless girly cock that you came looking to see how real men behave?" He snorts in a scoffing manner, "Maybe you were just curious to see how big strong predators would react when they learned of your terrible 'little' secret?" He knows the roo can't really hear him, but it's so hot to tease and bully such a helpless prey item.

After a time of dry humping, he can't take it anymore. The rex reaches down between himself and the drugged out roo, and unzips his trousers. He groans feeling his thickness freed from those overly tight pants. The sacrifice he makes for men's high fashion. His member is thick and black as his scales. Covered in bulging veins and dotted with smooth thick heavy plated ridges. Ten full inches of rock hard Tyrannosaurs-Rex meat, thick as a beer can, with another 3 inches of foreskin hanging off the tip. If the roo was awake, he would be gagging from the musk and the filthy smell of it. It would almost seem as if the rex doesn't wash much, and wears the smell of his junk like a badge of honor to show off how many furs he's bedded.

He grins, rubbing his thick uncut dinohood up against the roo's much smaller rooness as if sizing it up in a more official manner. "Woooooow, Sir. I sure do feel silly!" the rex puppets the roo's muzzle "You're so big and superior. I'm not even male compared to you!" Another guttural laugh comes from the toothy male. He pushes the foreskin around the tip of his member as he stands up a bit. Gripping the roo's ears tightly, he starts to rub that furry face all over his cock. He moans feeling that silky fur rolling against his cock-flesh. With a firm grip on the roo's head, he pushes the tip of his dangly foreskin into the roo's muzzle nose.

With a pinch of his fingers, he slides the skin down and into the unconscious kanga's nostril, squeezing out some of the foul dirt, grime, and smegma into the kangaroo's nostril like toothpaste out of a tube. It's thick and gritty and fills the large cavity with ease. "There ya go buddy, a little something to remember me by when you come too..." He groans out, masturbating himself a bit before repeating the lewd action in the second nostril. His hips thrust a bit against the prey's face. The dinosaur presses up against the nose with his massive cock for a short time before he pulls back and smiles. With a claw, he pushes into the roo's nose with a finger to make sure he gets that paste-like cock filth deep into that big silly kangaroo nose and not something that will be easily removed. "Thank you for your gift, sir." That humiliatingly high pitched muppet voice thanks the dino for his actions.

With his "gift" in place, he pulls back on those ears, yanking the roo's head back and his mouth wide open. The dino growls, positioning his member anew before pulling the kangaroo's ears towards him and sliding that heavy and filthy shaft in with that drooping floppy tongue. He moans out loudly pulling the roo's head down all the way, forcing the unconscious herbivore to eat meat all the way down to its cock-root. That heavy dinosaur cock pulses inside the roo's long neck while Donny rolls his hips to gently fuck into the warm wet tight throat.

He holds it there for a time, watching a cute little blue oxygen deprived blush form on the kanga's face as his body tries to breath around the dino's blockage. He pulls out quickly, letting the roo cough and gurgle, a trail of pre bridges from those rubbery muzzle lips to the opening of that dangly foreskin. He pulls that skin back a bit, letting the tip of his member become exposed to the cold air in the stall. He presses that roo head back down, making sure that flat tongue gets a good taste of the filth hidden by the loose skin before sinking those comical blunt buck teeth all the way down to where his lower stomach meets his crotch.

"Let's see how long roos can hold their breath" he growls, his predatory instinct taking hold, wanting to see his command over the poor creature that's currently unconscious and trying to breathe his cock. He holds the roo's ears like handles, pulling his head nearly off his crotch before slamming it back down, making sure his crotch is well tended too by the roo's muzzle nose. He feels his heavy member throb angrily in that long neck while he begins to hold the roo's head still, watching his body start to jerk as it tries clear the blockage. It's funny, looking, like everything about kangaroos.

The dinosaur releases the roo's head and pushes him back with a deep laugh. After a short brief pause, waiting for the roo to quit coughing, the tyrannosaurus rex relaxes himself and starts a strong and steady stream of hot urine pours forth from that thick skin and splashes into the roo's face fur. He aims his yellow laser beam downwards, making sure to soak that long neck and that small chest. He keeps his focus on the roo's tummy for a bit, letting his hot steamy stream wash over those upside down balls, dwarfed by the presence of his own heavy dinosaur sac. *he grins as his stream slows to a dribble, getting as much on the floor as on the bowl toilet, while he continues to marinate that roo's tail in the bowl's swill. As he finishes, he grips the roo's face and wipes his foreskin clean of the urine droplets in those big floppy fluffy ears.

Pleased with his handiwork, the roo's fur damp, dripping, and stained with his scent, the lumbering dino gets to the task at hand. He plays with himself a bit to regain his "composure". His claws rub along his thick length, squeezing his member and giving little tugs to his foreskin. He places that thick meat right in between the roo's ample bubble rump cheeks. With a thrust of his hips, he hot dogs the incapacitated kanga, pressing that thickness right up against his soft wrinkled cloacal opening. The roo's tailstar winks gently to the persistent prodding, nudging a little more open with each test.

With a subtle roar, the big hulking t-rex starts to press that blunt spear at the roo's weakened bull's-eye. It takes a little bit of grinding to nudge that quivering entrance open. The heavy tip presses and teases as the big dinosaur rolls his hips this way and that. The restroom is in a reserved silence, completely quiet save for the soft squelching noise from the dinosaur as he plays in a puddle of precum that's been pooling on the roo's tailhole. He leans forward, and starts to bite down on the roo's long graceful neck with a deep growl while he gets a little frustrated from trying to get inside.

The roo's body tenses up a little as the pain from being split open shoots up his tail. The dinosaur groans out, sinking the first inch of his tip into his newest victim. "There we go" He coes softly at the unconscious roo "that wasn't so hard, was it?" He pulls his tip out before pushing it back in, edging the roo's winking hole with the teasing of penetration. The dino loved how the roo's body tried to close the boy's little tail cunny each time he pulled free of it. As well as how stretched and perfectly round it became when he pushed his thickness inside.

After struggling, his persistence pays off. The big reptile forces his tip just inside that wrinkly cloaca. He sits there for a time, rumbling a growl around the roo's neck flesh, just feeling the roo's body work and push around his tip. He could even feel the dull thuds of the prey's heartbeat. The big predator chuckles, and licks along the roo's big floppy roo ears, moaning out as he tastes his own piss in the prey's fur, and with a sudden savage thrust, hilts his entire 10 inch dinosaur rod into his night's catch. Oh how the roo is tight. The dinosaur felt like he was fucking a tube of rubber bands wrapped around the silkiest fabric, and warmed to near hot-tub levels of comfort. For a fleshlight, the roo is working out just fine.

The tyrannosaurus's hips start a hard yet steady rhythm of nearly pulling all the way out, and steadily sinking back in. He teases the roo, talking to him like some dumb animal with coes of "Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy? Is it you? Yes it is! Yes it is!" all while hammering away at the sleeping roo's internal organs. He goes back to kissing the roo, forcing that tongue into that slack jaw for a second round of tongue wrestling. He ruts hungrily into that living toy, dragging his maleness out of the needy entrance before slamming it back in, rocking the roo on the toilet with each powerful thrust.

The large reptile gets such a rush seeing his thick black vein covered member sink into the rump of unsuspecting prey. That ring stretched wide open, yawning each time a ridge requires entrance and exit from their newly found tight confines. His hips slowly drag the cock from the roo's rump once more, letting him revel in the wet sheen on his skin from the roo's inner workings and his own pre. His nostrils take in a big whiff of the air as it becomes heavy with the scent of his rutting and sweat, smiling as he watches that wide open hole try hard to close. With a groan he slides back into the roo, loving the difference in temperature from the cold air in the restroom to his personal fleshlight's heated body. His dinohood gives a hard pulse as he nears his climax, the dino pulling out once more to admire the view of the roo's stretched hole. He just can't get enough of how wide the roo's rump spreads open and then watching the muscle try to close.

The hole is left open and gaping, and the dino can't help but run his finger along the ring, much less wrinkled than when he started. He stands up and grips the roo's ears once again, bringing that slack jaw back to his crotch. That silly thick tongue still hanging free from his muzzle makes the tyrannosaurus-Rex laugh. "Such a silly little thing, aren't 'cha?" he asks mockingly to the passed out roo. Holding his ears like handle bars, the rex guides his filthy previously used cock back into the roo's muzzle. He pulls those handle bars, sinking the hot steaming member into the roo's mouth until that flat broad muzzle nose nestles against and is back at home resting tightly against his crotch scales.

"Here comes your treat for being such a good lil' livestock for your big ol' Uncle Donny!" The dino continues to tease the unconscious roo. Those handle bars prove to be a big help as he begins to jackhammer the roo's head down on his crotch. The mean predator slams his cock into the back of the roo's throat as fast as he can as his member pulses hard and heavy. He growls out as his thrusting slows and he winds up just holding the roo's head down, making sure his member is lodged as deep as it will go into the herbivore's throat.

He holds his quarry's head there. The t-rex's big heavy and full dino balls rest in that bottom jaw, the roo's drool dripping off of them and landing upon the roo's fluffy chest in a puddle of spit. Everything is eerily still in the restroom as the predator holds his cock deep in the prey. A muffled gag breaks the silence. The roo's body can't breathe around the large obstructing and throbbing dinosaur cock in his neck. The kangaroo gurks and gags hard around the thickness and the sudden increase in tightness has the dino moaning out in the throes of the utmost pleasure. "Shhh" he whispers to the roo "Almost there...." The roo's body starts struggling and thrashing around involuntarily "almost there!" the dino calls out in desperate need.

In a loud wall shaking roar, the roo's spasming throat sends him right over the edge in heavy surges. The first wave of tyrannosaurus-rex spunk gushes down the roo's eager throat. Donny tugs his cock free of Fuzzy's neck letting that hot body breath again as the rest of his seed splashes out over the top of the roo's head and muzzle, painting those closed eyes and nose in thick globs of dino spunk. He wipes off his spent cock on the roo's muzzle lips, idly pawing his member in the afterglow while admiring his work. His clawfinger goes down and plays with that wide open cloaca as he rides out his euphoria. He slips that claw in and out of that wide open hole to tug at the muscle's futile attempts to close.

After the dino regains his composure he stands up, and stretches. He smiles down at the roo who is looking so peaceful with a spattering of tyrannosaurus-rex cum soaking into his face fur. He rumbles, pleased with himself, and bends down to pull his pants back up before he picks up the roo, slinging him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Donny then carries out his recent victim out of the restroom and into the loud crowded bar.

Where one would expect a group of hushed shocked and appalled patrons to a large carnivores dinosaur carrying an unconscious person on their shoulder form the restroom, instead gained a roaring cheer and praise from the bar's patrons. Donny smiles and waves to many congratulatory praises. He even poses for a couple of cellphone photographs of him and his prey item of the night. Some of the patrons even taking pictures of the drool from the roo as well as the toilet soaked fur on his rump and tail dribble onto the bar's wooden floor. Several high-fives are shared between the patrons and quite a few pat the tyrannosaurus-rex on the back with victorious spoils, offerings of beer and bar foods. A lion follows up from behind and presses a thick finger into the wide open hole of the roo's once tight rump. The scavenging predator gives a whistle in awe of the reptile's girth and continues to pump that finger in and out loving how loose that prey's hole had gotten from whatever Donny had made him go through in the bathroom.

The dino rolls the roo out on the bar's counter top, underneath the big "Slaughter House Pup" sign, next to his seat and retakes his stool. In a cool collected tone, the bartender questions the big predator "Ah, I see, will this one be for here or a doggy bag to go, Donny?" Looking at the camel, Donny replies with a cold "I haven't decided what collar to put on it, but he's definitely worth a fuck. Get in there and tell me what you think... but pour me a beer first..." he grunts out in his usual gravel filled gruff tone. The camel gives Donny a dry look, putting down his dish washing to pour a fresh beer for the triumphant hunter.

The bartender, all too used to his day job, grabs the roo's head and slides him down the bar about a foot. He tugs on one of the roo's big ears, and pulls it down below the bar into a grooved metal machine. Upon pulling down on the machine's handle, a loud "KA-CHUNK!" vibrates out with a metallic tone, and when pulled back up, a metal ear tag, one similar to what you would find on livestock at a farm, has been punched into the roo's ear.

He then spins the roo around so his cum stained head flops over the opposite end of the bar and his thick tail and rump are presented. After a moment of fishing, the bartender pulls out his thick camel member. It's long like a horse, blunted and flared with a median ring. It is pink and veiny, moist from his sheath and his long hours on the job. His paws shake from eagerness as he begins to slide the practically flat head under the roo's tail with a loud moan. "F-fuck, Donny, you know how to pick 'em. Even after you wrecked it, he's still like a fucking vice!"

There are more cheers from the patrons as the sleepy roo gets tagged with the classic gps ear tag and subjected to a public fucking. Several of the other predators start to play with themselves as they watch the camel have his way. The roo's head flops over one end of the bar as his tail gets pounded over the other. The camel mrrs softly feeling the roo's heart beat from inside, thumping away almost in time with the camel's fevered thrusts. His hoofpaws rub through the roos silky and sex stained fur, fishing for and finding the pink little nipple nubs within and giving them playful squeezes.

It's not long before the camel bellows and starts to unload his day's work into the sleeping roo's tail. He holds still for a while, gasping for breath before pulling his spent camel cock free. Quickly he grabs a shot glass and holds it under the wide open roo hole, letting some of the spent seed pour out of the roo and into the glass. He gets about 1/4th of the glass full of used camel spunk, then once satisfied, the bartender grabs a few liquors from the bar top and fills the rest with a blue/clear concoction of alcohol. In all, the drink is blue at it's top, clear and transparent in the middle, with a smoky white jelly finish.

Pleased with his mixed drink, he places it on the counter next to the naked passed out roo boy. He fishes out a thing of smelling salts while pushing a couple hoof fingers into that welcoming stretched open hole, loving the way his seed feels on the inside while he plays with the wrinkled cloaca. It's some time before he's happy and sated with playing with the kangaroo's well fucked hole... but he decides to finish before the drink gets too warm. The camel brings the salts to the roos broad flat cum spattered herbivore nose.

Fuzzy's nose twitches to the shocking scent. His first reflexive reaction is to breath in deeply, waking up with a start, which turns out to be his first mistake. The presents left in his muzzle nose are sucked into his sinuses making him cough and tear up, gasping for air, but all he finds is a confusing smell of heavy musky dinosaur smegma that overwhelms him. The camel holds him steady and pets him calling out "easy, easy buddy... calm down, you just slipped on the counter and hit your head, take it easy and drink this..." he lies to the roo, holding up the shot glass filled with the camel's own cum that came from the roo's rump. His head rings, the roo can only nod and lets the camel feed the drink to him as he gulps down the hard alcohol. The ending sticks to his muzzle, slimy and sticky, but he drinks it without question, trusting in the camel's soft and caring words. His body hurts, and it feels like he fell and landed hard on his rump.

The camel looks back to Donny, asking the predator the important question of the night "So, have you decided what to do with him, Chief?" After taking another long slow drink from his beer, the tyrannosaurus-rex gives the camel a nod. "Sure, I want 'em for myself, but 'es not one bit trained... have 'em work the joint for a couple months, that'll teach him how meat's supposed to act around us carnivorous..." he growls. "You got it, Donny" The bartender nods and fishes a metal collar from the wealth of supplies hidden inconspicuously under the bar and slips it around the roo's neck with locking click. A tag hangs off the D ring in the front that reads "Property of The Slaughter House Pub, if found please call 555-123-3829". The camel then picks up the roo in his arms and starts to carry him to a corner of the walkway behind the bar space where a trapdoor leads steps below and into a concealed basement.

The roo can't help but trust him. He holds onto the bartender of who's used cum the kangaroo had no idea he'd just drank willingly. The solid metal collar is heavy around his neck, but he's too groggy to really notice it much. He didn't really comprehend the conversation he had just been privy too, the drug inside him was still making him groggy and incoherent. He simply couldn't perceive what the two were just discussing. The light from the bar diminishes behind him as the camel carries him into that small sub-basement underneath the bar.

A groan of metal grinding upon its hinges pierces the otherwise silent dank darkness that is the Slaughter House's basement. The only other sounds are the chatter from the bar up top emanating from the open trap door. "In you go, meat." He says putting the roo down inside the large iron cage "Man, dose Donny know just how to pick good meats!" the camel whistles at the dinosaur's steady luck. And with that, the camel closes the large heavy cage door and locks the large padlock nice and tight. The roo blinks, not noticing the 4 others in similar collars cowering silently in the back of the cage from the camel. All of the captives watch as the bartender ascends that short staircase, closing the trapdoor, plunging the roo in darkness while the last sounds of the happy bar up top vanish to his brand new soundproof surroundings.