FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

--1

Every one of the Smilaxes was a burly testament to one form of masculinity or another. Even the chubby ones were mountainous piles of muscle. The stink of sweat and musk punctuated their appearances, but the glue which held their clique together was the sheer manliness each and every one of them exuded.

DB longed to be as bad as them. He psyched himself up, told himself he was ready to do anything it took to be their newest recruit. If they wanted him to polish the bikes all day, he'd do it; if he had to lick their boots until they shined, they'd look like fucking mirrors and his tongue would turn black. He could taste his membership as he watched them mill around their garage. Arm wrestling, lifting weights, tuning their motorcycles; DB hugged himself and puffed his cigarette. He was nervous.

He was a girly hyena, barely five and a half feet tall, sporting a very round ass with proportionate hips. Hips aside, he was obviously a boy head-on with his handsome snout and industrial ear piercings. He accentuated what he hoped was his masculinity with leather, spikes and studs. He let his natural mohawk grow out long and scraggly and was only rarely seen without a cigarette between his lips.

DB harbored the notion for the longest time that he would never be one of the bad boys. The Smilaxes were too big and hard to accept somebody like him unless he did something crazy; and since DB wasn't about to kill a man or rob a bank, he could only dream and watch from afar.

Dreaming and watching was what DB was doing when he saw the foxcoon. He didn't know the foxcoon's name. He actually didn't know any of them by name, but the foxcoon intrigued him and piqued his interest because he was a girly-boy too. It looked like he embraced it with his long, silky blonde hair and the flannel skirts he had hanging off of his round ass. DB thought at times that maybe it was a kilt, but anybody who looked at it pegged it as a skirt. When DB realized that this faggot fox didn't just blend in but in fact bossed the studs around, he decided that he could eke out a place in the gang too.

The hyena tossed his cigarette down and stomped it under a bare, calloused foot. He gave his elbows a quick flap and ruffled his jacket out. Come on, psych up for this, you're gonna go tell this dudes why you're badass! Instead of pumping himself up, he huffed. Man, you gotta do this!

But then he started to think, do I really? He shoved the idea away. As he walked across the damp, cracked street, his jeans wiggled down just enough to show the waistband of some pink panties.

Nothing but self-preservation kept strangers out of the open garage. DB walked under the roll-up door into a den reeking of musk and motor oil; ball sweat and gasoline. At first none of the bikers even noticed him. DB nearly brushed past one, an enormous German Shepherd made mostly of muscle, and the dog didn't realize it. Is it really this simple?. DB cracked a big, toothy grin.

"Who the fuck are you, asshole?"

DB tensed. Guess not.

"Fag club's that-a-way, boy," a biker snapped.

"Yeah, I know it is," DB dryly answered, trying not to let the panic set in. These creatures could smell fear, he knew it; they'd destroy him if he showed any weakness, probably whip him with chains or drag him behind their bikes. The notion of such extreme danger exhilarated him and made him shiver. His nipples stiffened.

Another biker laughed and tugged the breast of DB's jacket. "Look at these pussy leathers! What the hell, kid, did you skin ya' a queer bull or something?"

DB shot a nervous hyena grin around the room. The bikers arranged in a pair of sloppy phalanxes before and behind him. He admired the hard, musky bodies wrapped in leather and crusty, oily jeans. Their arms were primarily bare, covered by coarse fur and sweat. Their crotches bulged in familiar shapes and stank of masculinity. DB liked men, but his interests here were in membership, not cock.

"Well, kid? Say something," one biker said, him a tall black stallion with a pink nose.

"Man, get the fuck out of here, you little sissy bastard," another one of them snickered.

"That's enough of that shit," one voice warned. It was higher, closer to DB's sharp carrion-eater pitch than any of the barrel-chested studs; yet it commanded immediate respect. DB realized it was the foxcoon a moment before the twink pushed through the ranks.

DB and the foxcoon exchanged looks. The latter smirked and nodded when he said, "Nice panty line there." DB tugged his pants up without looking. "Who the fuck are you and, more importantly, why the fuck are you in my garage? The Smilaxes," he touched two of his closest men on the hips, "have no business with you."

The hyena narrowed his eyes. "What's a smilax?"

Expressing clear aggravation, the foxcoon rolled his eyes. "Read a book, stupid. And besides that, you come into my garage not even knowing whose fucking territory this is? You got a death wish?"

DB shook his head and splayed his palms, offering them to show his harmlessness. "No, no, I knew, see," he hurriedly explained, "I just wanna join up! I got the chops!" He smashed a fist into his palm. "I've stolen tons of rims and car stereos! I really think I can cut it with you guys!"

The foxcoon smiled patronizingly and leaned against one of the other bikers as if he were a tree. The stud stood as steady as one. Devoid of tone, he said, "Is that so."

"You don't believe me," DB huffed. "I can prove it, gimme a chance."

"Looks like all you can prove is how to rock a pair of panties. They're showing again," the fox grinned. Some of the bikers snickered. DB didn't pull his pants up this time. "Pink's a tacky color anyway." He pulled up his kilt and showed his own purple panties. "You gotta coordinate," he explained, pointing then to his plum-colored ears.

DB folded his arms, feeling shunned. "Don't change the subject up on me, come o-o-on. I can do whatever you guys want!"

The foxcoon had a look around at the faces of his fellow bikers; they ran the gamut from disinterested to angry. The hyena kept his eyes firmly on the foxcoon. "Okay, you know what? Fine. If you think you can cut it," he relented, and a big grin spread across DB's face, "then we'll let you try out for us, at least. But you fuck up just once--," he warned.

"Yeah, I know, I know," DB said.

"You fuck up once," the foxcoon went on, glaring, "you do anything to piss me or any of my brothers off, and you're fucked. And not in the good way," he added, sneering.

DB rubbed his palms together and nodded. "Uh, so, where do we start? We gonna go burn down some other gang's clubhouse? Or boost some cars, or run some smack or something?" he asked, grinning madly and looking all around at the bikers for some approval.

The bikers laughed, clearly at DB instead of with him. The hyena slowly lost his grin and tucked his tail between his legs.

"You two," the foxcoon said, pointing at his addressees, "shut the door." To a lone biker he said, "Lights." And to another, "Get the cot."

"The cot? What, uh, what are we...?" DB stammered and promptly shut himself up.

The door rattled shut and the bikers clamped it down. Another set of lights came on. Finally one of the large males tossed a dusty, collapsed mattress down in the middle of the floor.

"What's your name, kid?" the foxcoon asked, though he couldn't have been much older than DB.

"Uh, Deadbeat," he answered. "But I go by DB sometimes."

"All right, DB. My name's Desmond, and you can call me that. You'll get to know the other guys real well."

"Oh, I bet!" DB effused. "Brothers, right?" he asked, looking around. Nobody wanted to jump on it. "Well, I'll get acquainted, yeah. So, uh, this where I'm gonna sleep?" He grinned. "Right in the middle of the floor where you guys can stomp me awake or something?"

"What? No way, nuh-uh," Desmond laughed. "No, this is where you're gonna be initiated. You know," he rubbed his nearest brother on the flank, "I heard the Hell's Angels cover new recruits in piss and shit, and they never get to wash their leathers."

Deadbeat writhed. "Uh. But you're Smilaxes, right? Not Hell's Angels?" He put on a tight, worried smile.

"Right. We don't want anyone walking around stinking like that," Desmond grinned. "So take off your clothes."

Although he started taking his jacket and shirt off without hesitation, Deadbeat looked around with some worry. "Not to be, uh, out of line," he murmured, "but how am I gonna be initiated?"

"The same way everybody gets initiated into the Smilaxes," Desmond noted, folding his arms. "Go on, get the pants off. And now the panties. By the way, I was wrong, those are damn cute."

"Oh, thanks, um--, I've got more if these get trashed." He giggled a mad, brief hyena cry right as he shook his panties off his foot. Then he stood naked before the Smilaxes, his fine round butt exposed. He was hung well enough, and his flaccid black cock dangled over his balls. It looked like a toothpick compared to the bulges the other bikers had. Unshy, he clasped his paws behind his back and rocked on his feet. "And now?"

Desmond looked around the room. His eyes fell on the one ursine in his gang, a tall black bear with hard muscles, a swollen gut and a patch on his breast that read Sampson. "You start."

"Start?" Deadbeat blurted. Sampson tossed him down to the mattress; his impact kicked up a cloud of dust, and he shrieked at being manhandled.

The bear loomed over DB and shucked his pants and boxers alone. An enormous cock, black like DB's but many times its size, hung low over a fat scrotum.

"Let's see some pussy, 'yeen!" Sampson darkly laughed, dropping onto the mattress. DB gasped and flinched away but succeeded only in flipping over onto his belly, which provided Sampson with just what he wanted. The bear ignored the hyena's tail and went for the double bubble, prying the twink's cheeks apart, exposing the tight pink pucker between.

"Nice," Desmond purred, standing nearby. Sampson stayed his hand as the leader squatted and perused DB's hindquarters. First he rubbed the back of the hyena's balls, then sucked a finger until it was wet. This he pushed into DB's asshole; the hyena grunted through promptly clenched jaws.

"Boy's really tight. Maybe I should go first," Desmond said with a smirk, but he winked at Sampson. As he pulled his finger back and Sampson overwhelmingly straddled the girly hyena, Desmond strutted around the cot and peered down at the new recruit. "You know what a donut looks like, Deadbeat?"

"Um, yeah," the hyena squeaked. Sampson had him pinned with one paw on his shoulder. The black bear was fluffing with the other.

"A donut," Desmond grinned, "is what your butthole is gonna look like by the time you earn your leathers."

"Oh, fuck me!" Deadbeat yowled.

"Already taken care of, chickpea," Desmond chirruped as he wandered off. The hyena heard him calling out orders: "Ajax, Wade, you're rolling out with me! Oz and Chen, you get the new pussy after Sampson!"

Outside, two motorcycles cranked up and sped off. DB would have ordinarily been interested in the sound and spectacle but Sampson shoved his big, black cock into the hyena's ass crack; the hotdogging had Deadbeat preoccupied and more than a little nervous. He looked back at the bear with a huge, terrified grin, a typical expression for a hyena whom had bitten off more than he could chew.

"Whaddaya grinning about, bub? You that excited?" Sampson sniggered. His cock drooled an incredible amount of pre. It soaked into DB's deep ass crack.

"I really hope you're gonna lube me up," Deadbeat said with a small whine.

Sampson licked his rough lips and stared into the boy's eyes. "Lube?" he asked, his tone bewildered, as if the term were unfamiliar.

Yeah, lube! DB was about to shout when the bear pulled back, impressively doubled over and stuffed his snout into the hyena's ass crack. He started slathering and slobbering the little pink fuckhole hidden between those cheeks, and DB wasn't afraid to moan about it. A big, slobbery tongue was easy to enjoy.

Though grateful for the rimming and growing hard from it, DB uttered into the dirty cot, "Drool is nice, but--, but hey, I don't think it's enough!"

The black bear jerked his head back and wiped forearm across his chin. "Gonna have to be, kiddo," he grinned, "unless you want me to use motor oil."

DB got another look at that big, black cock and the view made him seriously mull over the idea. Sampson didn't give him the chance to embarrass himself. He pushed his tip against Deadbeat's quivering anus and soon defied the tense ring, penetrating it.

Deadbeat's eyes went wide and so did his asshole. He wasn't trained for such big dicks. Even Desmond's finger had been a literal pain in the ass - and Sampson's dong was bigger than the foxcoon's arm. "Aaaooh, fu-u-uck!" DB nearly sobbed, gripping the edges of the mattress, lashing his tail. The bear was hardly inside of him - just the glans and an inch or two of shaft - but DB already felt as if it were splitting him like a log. As it wedged deeper into his unaccustomed rectum, he let his legs drift apart until his toes touched the concrete either side of the mattress. He whimpered against the filthy fabric and clenched his eyelids.

Sampson splayed his beefy paws on DB's shoulder blades, covering much of his twinky back. When DB proved too tight to get inside of, he eased his meat back and ground it forward again. The only upside for the hyena was that Sampson's repetitions diffused the pre inside of him.

Boots clomped up. The distressed hyena opened his eyes and looked to the side but couldn't defy Sampson's weight to lift his upper body. One set of boots looked like just like another to someone such as he, a creature low both on the food chain and floor. But it was Oz, as his jacket's breast said, and he grinned down at the new recruit and his writhing, faggoty body.

"He actually looks hot without those fucking Judas Priest leathers on," Oz laughed. He squatted and DB mostly saw his bulging crotch, but he also could discern the stud's species: a gray wolf, nothing more or less. Though he spoke at DB, he addressed Sampson when he lewdly asked, "So how's the pussy?"

"Tight as a motherfucker," Sampson said though semi-clenched jaws. He kept crushing the little hyena into the cot as he ground in with all his weight. DB gasped sharply and popped his eyes wide open again, but not because of the bear's weight; Sampson had stuffed it balls-deep, impatiently burying the last four or five inches.

"His toes are curling," Oz observed. He reached out with two fingers extended (which stank of musk and dick) and shoved them into the hyena's toothy mouth. DB grunted but didn't bite. "Suck 'em, boy."

The hyena reluctantly complied. He thought Oz's fingers tasted like crotch sweat, which he was correct in identifying. In the middle of this oral fingering, the wolf began pumping. Sampson started to give him the same treatment but to much more painful effect with his big bear cock.

"The fagcoon said you wanted to be a Smilax, is that right?" Oz grinned. "Suck once for yes, twice for no."

Deadbeat huffed, but firmly sucked once before resuming his normal work.

"Hah, cute little fag like you? You ain't cut out for this," the wolf teased. With his free paw, he unzipped his fly. Unbuttoning it took more effort but he managed. Underneath was a jock strap. He pulled its groin pouch aside rather than down and freed his fat, cylindrical sheath that way; it was already starting to show the thick red lipstick within. "Hey Sam, what do you reckon?"

"Mmm?" Sampson murmured. He was screwing the boy with slow, strong grinds. His large ass, both muscular and round as befitting a strong bear, flexed and dimpled often.

"Think this little boy's gonna be able to take it? O-o-or is he gonna waddle home with his butthole swollen up like a hemorrhoid pillow?" Oz mused, leering at the blushing bitch. DB nipped his fingers to no apparent effect.

Sampson laughed brutishly. "Hah, who knows. We all thought Desmond was gonna pussy out, but look how he surprised us."

"Yeah," Oz reminisced, "two knots at once." The hyena shuddered at the thought and closed his eyes. Oz plucked his fingers free and wiped a bead of blood off on his pant leg.

Grinning big and wide, Sampson clapped a meaty paw onto DB's ass and made it jiggle. The hyena yowled, gaining a tear in the corner of his eye. "Whaddaya you think so far, kid? You like bein' an honorary Smilax?"

"I guess so," DB miserably said. He eyed the growing length of Oz's penis. It was every bit as big as what Sampson was ramming into him with the addition of a forthcoming knot. Thick, slippery precum drizzled from its tip to the floor. "God-fucking-dammit, are you all so hung?" he moaned.

"Not all of us," Oz said, thumbing his red rocket. "Chen's bigger than me."

"Bigger!" Deadbeat whined.

"Re-e-ela-a-ax," Sampson patronizingly cooed. "Chen's an oral fiend, he's just gonna break ya' jaws, not'cher shitter."

"My jaws?" he asked sharply. He grinned nervously, showing his many teeth. "Who would fuck a hyena in the mouth?"

Sampson grunted in exertion. His big, blubbery body quaked. "Fffuck, this little ass of yours really milks a dick, I bet ya' was real popular in school."

"I didn't go to school!" Deadbeat declared triumphantly.

"Big surprise there," Oz smirked. "Hey Sam, hurry the fuck up."

"Hey Oz, shut the fuck up," the bear snapped. He flopped over Deadbeat, making him squeal in shock. Then he started bouncing his hips on that thick bubble butt, nailing little DB hard and fast with no regard for the boy's discomfort - and the discomfort was considerable.

Deadbeat wasn't going to cry, even as badly as he wanted to. He was used to taking dicks eight inches and under or trading quick handjobs for cigarettes. Getting ramrodded with a tree trunk wasn't his idea of a gay old time.

"Uuuhhh, fu-u-uck," Sampson snarled. Sweat soaked through his wife beater and permeated DB's fur. Between Sampson and the cot, the hyena stank more like an unwashed biker than an unwashed hyena. It was an awkward, painful, yet vaguely satisfactory sensation when he realized that he could feel his swollen anus throbbing around Sampson's cock. He still thought it was bullshit that he had to satisfy the studs but for that single moment, he liked the feeling.

Oz rolled his eyes and watched in silence. He slowly masturbated. By then his knot was free; his sheath sagged behind it.

Sampson muttered something filthy and inarticulate when he came, blasting his nasty bear spunk into Deadbeat. The hyena squealed and curled his toes. Sampson's penis flexed mightily as it shot and this put pressure on the twink's prostate, leaving Deadbeat no choice but to puff and moan from the brutal anal stimulation.

The bear's mess was too much for DB's clenching ass to contain. It backwashed around Sampson's cock and gushed down the hyena's taint and balls, adding more scents and textures to the cot's rich tapestry. "Oof, Jesus fuckin' Christ almighty," Sampson bleated. He peeled his sweaty self off of DB and rested on his knees. Slowly he slid his still-erect meat out of the boy, his exit followed by a gush of spent cum. DB's anus had puffed up from the reaming. It was, thanks to Sampson, a glazed donut. The bear squeezed DB's ass cheeks then smushed them together. The boy groaned.

"Are we done for today?" Deadbeat tiredly asked as the black bear vacated the cot.

Oz flipped him over and parted his legs. While draping his big, knotted member over DB's smaller shaft, he boisterously announced, "Not even fucking close!"

Sampson laughed almost goofily at DB's assumption. "You was the one who wanted to join up, kiddo! Gotta take ya' lumps!"

Deadbeat propped himself up on his elbows and looked down. There was one particular lump he was pretty well scared of. "Oz, dude, take it easy with me," he pleaded.

"Oh, shit, he used my name," Oz snickered. He gripped his cock just after the knot and guided it against the hyena's gaped asshole. "Doesn't he know that weakens my powers?"

"Aw, shut it. Can't you see the poor kid's scared?" Sampson grinned, showing teeth between blubbery jowls.

"Yeah, I'm fuckin' terrified!" DB confirmed.

"Hey, you and me both, buddy," said Oz, pushing forward. As he speared open Deadbeat's anus and the muscles behind it, he groaned out long and low. With the hard plowing taken care of by Sampson, Oz was free to bury his bone and he did so very quickly. When the knot wetly smacked against DB's raw entrance, the boy grunted and gnashed his teeth. Oz sighed, "I tell ya', don't fuckin' know what's gonna happen from one day to the next."

Chen neared and squatted down close to the bottomless Sampson, whom was resting his fat ass on the concrete. "What's up, guys? This the new meat?" Chen asked, licking his lips.

Deadbeat writhed and huffed as Oz had his way. At the end of every buck, the wolf ground his plump knot against the hyena in what seemed to DB to be a kind of unspoken threat. Only vaguely aware of Chen's query, DB looked over and took the new biker in; Chen was bullshitting with the bear as if there weren't a twink being defiled nearby.

Placing an exact species was difficult for somebody as book dumb as Deadbeat, but Chen was a handsome Nangchen horse. Muscular by virtue of his clan and species but really quite compact for a stallion, Chen had a fine brown coat, a noticeably thick chest and an ugly scar adding roguish appeal to his snout. In what seemed like a natural escalation, Chen had the thickest crotch bulge yet and he proudly let it jut out.

"Aw, fuck, I've never been good with horses," DB moaned, interrupting the conversation. Chen laughed and Oz snickered maliciously, suddenly mashing his knot against DB's asshole. The hyena squealed, digging his claws deep into the flanks of the mattress.

"Lippy! And cute! I like him," Chen said, chuckling. Despite both his name and breed, Chen had no noticeable accent besides the median gruffness of his biker brothers. "Ozzy, dude, think I can use that face of his while you bring up the rear?"

"I flipped 'em over just for you, buddy."

"Hey, remember, kid," Sampson said as Chen unzipped, "breathe when you swallow - it'll open ya' throat up!"

"Yeah, fuck you," Deadbeat bitterly said.

"Nah, fuck you," Sampson grinned, throttling his fat, black dick. "Remember?"

Oz let go of Deadbeat's ankles and dropped down over the hyena. The little scavenger yelped in surprise and reached up to try to stop the wolf from crushing him. Instead Oz stopped himself with his palms on either side of DB, and the hyena's touch on the wolf's heaving chest was misconstrued.

"Yeah, feel me up, baby," Oz growled, grinding his knot against the twink's asshole.

"Oh, shit, shit!" Deadbeat squealed, suddenly throwing his legs around Oz for lack of a better place to put them. He tried his best to squeeze the wolf and hold him still, but he didn't even slow the stud down.

"Scream for me, fuckin' scream," Oz sordidly groaned, thrusting his knot against the boy again and again.

Deadbeat showed his teeth in a huge grimace and his eyes were wide and wet. "Fffuck, I think my butthole is bruised," he hissed. "Christ...!"

"Hey Oz, sit up or something," Chen puffed. "I need some room!"

Grunting in lust and ire, Oz straightened up and defied DB's leg lock. He grabbed the boy's girly ankles again and yanked the fuckthing back into his deep thrusts. Then, as DB hissed and clawed the cot, the Nangchen knelt by the head of the mattress and grabbed the hyena's shoulders.

"Goddamn, what now?" Deadbeat moaned.

Chen laughed with what seemed like a good temperament. He pulled DB a bit away from Oz until his head lolled back, no longer supported by the mattress.

"Open wide, that's what," Sampson chimed in.

"You heard the bear," Chen cheerfully concurred.

Still wincing and tensing every time Oz's terrible knot bashed against his asshole, Deadbeat opened his jaws wide. In spite of the deadly teeth, the scavenger's maw looked inviting. Small, wet, and very hot; these traits made it a fine fuckhole. Chen was inclined to agree when he stuffed the flaring head of his cock past those tender jowls.

As Chen's big, brown cock crushed down his tongue and deformed against the entrance of his throat, Deadbeat threw his eyes open so widely, it looked as if they were ready to pop out of his skull. The stallion pushed it home and gouged open Deadbeat's throat; the twink's green eyes glazed over completely with a sheen of tears. His penis throbbed through the double-ended abuse, often spitting pre onto his belly.

Deadbeat saw Chen's balls looming through his tears. He clenched his eyelids shut and took no great pains to keep his teeth from grinding on the horse's meat; doing so was an impossible task. He already felt like his jaws were being pried open with a car jack. Opening them wide enough so the horsecock cleared his teeth would have been disastrous.

Another issue of such a huge oral penetration became clear to DB: he couldn't breathe. The situation improved just vaguely when Chen bottomed out. The bulge of the flare was far enough past Deadbeat's windpipe that he could breathe in little snatches around the flesh, but the air which he could suck in was tainted by vile ball sweat. For as friendly as Chen was, his sack was equally swampy. Deadbeat's stomach turn at the smell.

At a pace much slower than Oz's grunting, snarling anal ruination which never ceased, Chen began grinding. When he pulled back, his viscous pre soothed the hyena's reamed-raw throat somewhat, but the sudden loss of air made DB panic. He clenched at both ends and the points of his teeth raked Chen's penis to no apparent harm.

"Jay-soos fuckin' Christ! How much can he take?" Sampson snickered nearby. He reached over with his meaty paw and gripped Deadbeat's penis. The spotted twink flinched and clenched with the intensity of a vise on Oz.

"Mmm, goddammit, he really wants the knot," Oz crooned. "Gonna have to give it to 'em..."

DB reached for Chen's thighs. He tried to stop the horse from grinding, but just as when he wrapped his legs around Oz, he accomplished nothing. The smelly, beefy bikers had him totally outclassed. Deadbeat's refusal to acknowledge that much made him more stupid than brave. They didn't even notice that he was actively struggling against them.

Chen moved his idle hands to DB's neck, spurred possibly by the hyena's resistance. He stroked the blatant lump his cock made in the twink's slim white neck using one hand, his fluffy chest with the other. "Man, what a cute little sissy. He's like a teddy bear..."

Sampson glanced over with a wry smirk. "Teddy bear, eh?"

"Shut the fuck up, both of you," Oz puffed. He hunkered down over Deadbeat again but nominally kept out of Chen's way this time. Being a muscular, sweaty, musky and domineering wolf, replete with snarling and complete with huffing and a lolled, dripping tongue made Oz look more like a werewolf than an ordinary pack beast. He battered Deadbeat's quivering asshole over and over like driving the world's most stubborn nail, his knot standing in as the hammer. So much precum shot into Deadbeat that his rectal walls would have shined in the light.

"C'mon, Ozzy, tie the bitch up," Sampson puffed. His own erection was as lively as ever, balls dangling on the cool concrete. He manhandled Deadbeat's penis instead of his own.

"Rrgh, fuck! Workin' on it," Oz spat. One palm on the mattress, Oz grabbed DB's girly hip with the other. He dug in his fingers and claws and pulled the twink away from Chen like a tug-o-war. Chen snorted in annoyance and held Deadbeat under the armpits to keep him put.

As Oz's knot started to wrench open his anus and the studs kept pulling him in two directions at once, Deadbeat distinctly thought: I'm either gonna choke to death on this guy's dick, or they're gonna break my back trying to fuck me.

For all the abuse, Deadbeat was rock-hard, oozing his pre into Sampson's mitt. The bear wasn't even masturbating him. Just that dumb, crude squeezing and tweaking had the spotted scavenger near his release. In spite of the stretch at both ends and the understandable fear of so much swollen cock, Deadbeat was on the verge of busting a nut.

Oz clenched his rusty orange eyes shut and finally found the purchase he needed. In almost an anticlimax, his knot slipped right past Deadbeat's anus and found temporary lodging behind the ring. His flesh was wrung upon by the spasming muscles of Deadbeat's rectal cavity.

DB's clenching ass was the result of so much sudden prostate stimulation; and because of that pressure, the hyena came. He bleated in breathless pleasure around the Nangchen's meat and shot his wad into Sampson's palm. As he ejaculated, his ass seized violently, causing him as much pleasure as it did pain. For Oz, it was pleasure alone. He brayed in his orgasm, brought on by being milked by the twink. Oz erupted into Deadbeat, filling him up with a load so big that it was a small wonder Deadbeat didn't end up with a pot belly.

"Motherfucker! He ain't gonna be sittin' down tonight!" Sampson announced, laughing and smearing the sticky mess off into Deadbeat's chest fur. Watching the erratic rise and fall of the hyena's breast, the bear remarked, "Relax, kid, you get used to them knots. And hey, fuck me! Looks like you even liked it."

"Probably isn't his first time," Chen puffed, picking up the pace to get his own rocks off. He smacked his sweat-smeared nuts into Deadbeat's face over and over, leaving the hyena's cute snout wet and reeking. "Wasn't he wearing panties? That's a cocksleeve for sure."

Deadbeat would have gladly told them he was, in fact, a cocksleeve; but not for the kind of beef they packed.

"Ugh, Christ," Oz shuddered. "Holy shit, but blowing a load like that always takes it right outta me."

Chen looked across at Oz, flashing mischief in his brown eyes. "Mmh, hah," he snickered, "I figure you being a middle-aged dad is why you get tired just from dumping a nut..."

"Shut it! And hurry up before the little shit chokes to death," Oz indignantly puffed.

"Yeah, yeah, all right, dad," Chen sneered. "Hey, 'yeen - squeeze my ass cheeks or something if you're still kickin' down there."

Briefly, Deadbeat considered playing dead to see if they'd ease up. He reasoned that they would probably finish up first. He played along and reached for the stallion's ass cheeks instead. They were everything he expected from a horse: taut, muscular, absolutely no fat to them. As for why he was holding them, he had no idea; but with the worst of his initiation over (which was, of course, Oz's knot), Deadbeat's desire to be a Smilax reigned supreme again. He reassured himself: Anything it takes! I'm almost there!

"Ahhh, that's the stuff," Chen grunted. "Yeah, squeeze those ass cheeks, dig your fingers in, you won't hurt me!" As Deadbeat obliged and really took his frustrations out on Chen's fine ass, the stallion plunged deep and hard with his cock, ramming it down. The flare rubbed like a pipe cleaner along DB's snug throat. By then Deadbeat had acclimated to the required breathing method. The rawness was awful, but he could survive if it meant leathers with his name stitched on them.

On and on the facefucking went. Deadbeat's thick black nose had long since stopped scrunching up from the constant assault of Chen's balls. Even the odor was becoming normal. But it was then that Chen, without warning, packed it in to the very bottom and held the twink fast by his chin and a fistful of chest fluff.

Deadbeat tensed around Oz again, spurring both he and the wolf into new pleasure before Chen dumped his load. It was remarkable just how much cum gushed into DB's gut. It felt to Deadbeat like gallons of the stuff was slopping into him; one rope after another, each accompanied by a painful throb of the flesh which gouged Deadbeat's throat wider. Come the moment when Chen pulled back, Deadbeat didn't think he'd need to eat dinner that night. He hacked and wheezed in a way familiar to a smoker, coughing up spittle and globules of horse semen into his palm, but managed to stifle himself before the studs found it too annoying.

"Oogh, fffuck me," Deadbeat rasped in a tiny voice. "Am--," he briefly hacked some more, "ow, fuck, I need a smoke." One brief moment passed, then Deadbeat asked, "Am I a Smiler now?"

"Smilax," Sampson corrected. "Here, it's menthol," he said, sticking a lit cigarette between DB's fingers.

"And no, you're not," Oz smirked.

Deadbeat took a long, soothing drag before he asked, "I'm not? Why?"

"'Cause any old buttslut can come in here and take a dick or three if they want. You really think that's enough to get ya' into the club?" Sampson chuckled, shaking his head. "Give that back real quick, lemme have a puff."

The hyena and bear passed the cigarette back and forth like a peace pipe. Oz got in on it too, but Chen politely declined.

"What else do I have to do, then?" Deadbeat sighed, sounding very tired.

"Dunno yet," Oz shrugged. "But Desmond'll tell you."

--2

Acting as leaders in Desmond's absence, veterans Oz and Sampson put up the mattress and allowed DB to wear his panties again. As he pulled them up, feeling self-conscious about his jism-dripping ass, Deadbeat asked, "What gives, guys? Why can't I wear the rest of my shit?"

"'Cause ya' ain't wearin' no pussy-leathers around here, kid," Sampson grinned. "You can wear the panties 'cause they suit what you, but that punk rock shit ain't flyin' here."

Oz showed an opportunistic side when he laid into Deadbeat's ass with an open palm. With that sudden, sharp crack of sound and pain, DB gasped and flinched away from the wolf, ending up against Sampson's gut as if seeking safety. The bear offered it when he squeezed the boy close.

Eyeing DB as prey now out of reach, Oz sneered, "Besides, it's not like you're gonna wear those panties much." Snapping his smoldering eyes on the bear's, he said, "Sam, you show the little fuck around. He can sleep with you. Maybe if you're nice, he'll make sure you apnea doesn't kill you."

"Apnea?" Deadbeat confusedly asked, that tone used upon hearing an unfamiliar word. He looked back at Oz, then up at Sampson.

Neither the bear or wolf was in the mood for Deadbeat's ignorance. Sampson led him deeper, out of the garage. It wasn't just a garage, and Deadbeat was genuinely surprised to find this out; the garage one just one part of a large, if ramshackle clubhouse.

"This here's the mess hall - or kitchen. You're gonna hear it called both," Sampson explained. "You want a beer, kid? You twenty-one? Forget it, I don't give a fuck if you is or ain't. Jeffrey, two brews!"

Deadbeat saw whom he assumed to be Jeffrey inside the kitchen. Jeffrey was a hyena too, and briefly Deadbeat felt a sense of comfort and camaraderie. The unfamiliar hyena put down two beers, smacked his palms on the counter on either side of them, splayed his grubby digits and leaned in. The first words out of his toothy mouth took away any good feelings DB had about him: "Oh, shit, a new fuckboy? Can I fuck 'em?"

"Later! Later," Sampson laughed, twisting off the caps and handing one of the bottles to Deadbeat. "Me, Oz and Chen just started shit off. I'm showin' the kid around."

"Aw, fuck it," Jeffrey bitterly spat. "Guess I'm jerking off in your food again," said the hyena as he vanished into the kitchen.

DB sucked his lip, visibly disturbed. "He's joking, right?"

Sampson patted Deadbeat's behind, ushering him back to the hallway. "Come on, lemme show you my room."

The black bear led the new meat past rows of dorms. Everything was unfinished and run-down, smelling like oil and gasoline, but that could have been the bikers themselves. Few of the rooms had doors and none of them were closed even if present. Planks were missing from the floors; Sampson pointed out where the exposed hardware was out of sympathy for the boy's naked feet. Grubby posters from obscure bands and pulpy movies were tacked to the bare wall studs. Included also, though Deadbeat did not take a very good look at it, was a labeled illustration of a cross-section of a canine vulva which seemed to have been pilfered from a gynecologist's office. Doodled in the margins was the uncertain legend: i think jay has one of these??

Passing the rooms, Sampson breezily greeted the bikers inside. "That's Latchkey in there," he said, pointing at a dour-looking German Shepherd. A disassembled carburetor on his weather-beaten desk was the object of his attention. "Latch, we got a new boy here! Gonna say hello or what, ya' rude S.O.B.?"

Latchkey glanced at Deadbeat. He had on reading glasses which looked terribly out-of-place on a burly biker. He peered over the frames and smirked with brownish teeth. "Bring 'im here."

"Go on," Sampson said, nudging Deadbeat by the shoulders. "Play nice, kiddo."

Within Latchkey's den, Deadbeat smiled thinly. "Umm," he tipping his beer at the desk, "whatcha working on, dude?"

"Nice panties, kid," the German Shepherd absently said, slipping off his glasses. He twisted in his hard wooden chair and offered his thigh. "Sit down with me."

DB thought of the congealing cum in the seat of his panties. Then he looked at Latchkey's oily jeans and decided one more stain wouldn't bother the dog. He sat down gingerly on the Shepherd's leg. Latchkey pulled him close and fondled his slim lines.

"Christ, you're pretty. Fuckin' beautiful, you are. Sampson, you get a load of how pretty this little boy is?"

"Surprised Dez even let 'em inside," Sampson said, leaning on the door frame and sipping his beer. "Competition, don't ya' think?" he added, smirking.

"I'm not competition, the fox guy was way prettier than I am," Deadbeat said defiantly. "I ain't a girly boy!"

"DB, kid," Sampson grinned, "shut the fuck up and keep wearing ya' panties."

"Can I fuck him or what?" Latchkey asked, digging his fingers into the hyena's panties. He fondled the spotty twink's penis firmly; Deadbeat huffed and closed his eyes.

Sampson seemed to consider it. "Nah, not tonight," he decided. "He's still gettin' initiated. C'mon, kiddo."

Just as Deadbeat scooted off his leg, Latchkey growled lewdly. "Gonna pound the fuck out of you, prettyboy. You're not gonna be able to walk."

DB pressed against Sampson's somewhat familiar bulk, wearing an awkward smile. As they walked down the hall, he said, "Fuck, and I can barely walk as it is..."

"Heh, yeah! Me and Ozzy did a number on ya' butthole, didn't we?" the bear snickered. "And here's my little hovel, go on in."

Though the room was identical to Latchkey's and all of the others, the decorations were a tapestry of Sampson's life as a Smilax; and if the other jackets pinned to the wall were anything to go by, he had rolled under other banners too. Some of the leathers had stabs and bullet holes in them. The other details would ingrain themselves on DB in due time. For the moment, he sat on the foot of the bed and sighed. "Getting fucked takes a lot out of you."

"It does, yeah," Sampson chuckled, setting down his beer bottle. "Hey, take a nap if ya' want. Watch some tube, play the radio, whatever. Mi casa su casa!" he effused, raising his bottle in a gesture which said cheers!

Deadbeat chugged what was left of his beer and scooted up on the bed. That it stank so heavily of Sampson didn't bother him. "Why are you being so cool with me?" he timidly asked.

"'Cause y'seem like a nice kid," Sampson offered, sitting in his dumpster-dived office chair. It sank to the bottom of its cylinder with a bump. "A-a-and ya' was a good fuck. But that's about it." He reached out and patted the boy's foot. "Get some rest, 'cause I know there's more shit in store for you and that cute lil' butt of yours," he laughed.

"Mmf, yeah," Deadbeat yawned. "You're probably right."

--3

Deadbeat woke up twice in the middle of the night. His first awakening was the result of the rain which had developed. He was not roused by the sound, which was dulled by the building, but by Sampson scooting a dented metal bucket under a drip.

Catching sight of Deadbeat's glazed eyes, Sampson quietly and fondly said, "Go back to sleep, kid." The hyena nodded and fell back into his rest as if he hadn't been disturbed.

But the second time Deadbeat woke up, he stayed up. Motorcycles rumbled into the garage, their lumpy combustion tearing through the open doors of the building. They died off in rapid succession, but then came the commotion. Laughter and bullshitting; exchanges of tales about pussy that was had on this newest romp. Deadbeat yawned enormously until his jaws popped, then sat up. He stretched his girly body out and put his foot on the floor - directly into the bucket Sampson had put down. He grumbled and walked off his wet foot.

When the little hyena entered into the garage, the subject had coincidentally moseyed back to pussy. There was Desmond, damp, having just gotten back in the rain. Despite his saturation, he regarded Deadbeat with a haughty smirk, his fists on his hips. Speaking with the utmost sarcasm, he gushed, "Well there's my princess. Did you have a nice nap, cutie-pie?"

Deadbeat smoothed down his ruffled mohawk and was suddenly bitingly aware of his pretty panties. Every biker - including many he had not yet seen - was looking at him. All conversation had stopped, leaving deafening silence for Deadbeat to interrupt.

"Hey kid," Sampson said, stepping out of the crowd, "our president asked you a question, ya' might wanna answer."

"Now now, Sampson," said Desmond, holding up a paw for order. "If DB doesn't want to adhere to our strict hierarchy, that's all right. After all, he's not a Smilax, is he?"

The hyena felt the chill of the cold night air in the garage. He hugged himself and grinned nervously. "I wanna be. Sorry, uh, yeah! I had a nice nap, yessir, mister president."

Desmond grabbed Deadbeat's shoulders and squeezed them firmly. His smile was much too friendly to not have sinister intent behind it. "Terrific! I hope you're all rested up."

Still grinning big and toothy, Deadbeat murmured, "Um, y--, yeah? I guess so."

Without looking away from Deadbeat's frightened eyes, Desmond said, "Latchkey, Nicolas - you two wanna get laid?"

Latchkey and Deadbeat had already met. The German Shepherd responded with delight: "Fuck yeah I do!"

Presumably it was Nicolas whom said, "You can sure as hell count me in."

"Good," Desmond chuckled. "Get that mattress down again. Anybody who's not Latchkey or Nicolas, fuck the hell off, please."

The bikers started to mill out and Deadbeat got to see, by process of elimination, that Nicolas was a large-framed Great Dane with a tan coat of fur, droopy black jowls pulled up for a grin and a bulge in his jeans.

Sampson left last. The black bear patted DB's hip and said, "Good luck, kid."

Deadbeat wanted to boldly exclaim that he didn't need luck, but Desmond's icy green eyes took the piss out of him. Instead he squeaked, "Thanks."

The dogs came near their president and the raw recruit. Nicolas unabashedly snatched up a fistful of DB's ass and started to fondle him through the panties. "Girly as hell. Nice and round. You sure you want competition like this around, Dez?" he grinned.

The foxcoon surprised Deadbeat with a kiss, and then he slid his tongue across the hyena's teeth. Deadbeat blinked. His mouth popped open for a stupid question; Desmond licked the roof of his mouth and tenderly, if only briefly tilted his head and slotted his jaws into Deadbeat's. The Smilax-hopeful inelegantly moaned and resisted an urge to nip Desmond's tongue, but he grabbed the foxcoon's hips.

When the kiss broke off, the president wiggled out of Deadbeat's grasp and pressed against a toolbox, smiling and licking his jowls. His long tail swished. "I'm being a sentimental fuck, but he reminds me of myself."

"He does?" Latchkey asked.

"I do?" Deadbeat parroted. The dogs scooped him up and startled a yap out of him. Along the way, they yanked off his panties. He ended up being dropped butt-first on the collapsed mattress.

"Yeah," Desmond mused, drumming his fingers on the toolbox, his claws making metallic staccatos. "You do, yeah. Naive little fuckboy struts into a garage full of guys who probably break queers in half for the hell of it. I wanna be a badass biker! I stole a car stereo once! I broke into my sister's room and wore her panties like a rebel! And then he gets raped to hell and back 'till his butthole swells up all red and raw like a cream-filled doughnut."

Nicolas knelt on the mattress and lifted Deadbeat by the knees, exposing his pillowy pink anus, still swollen from his first round of his initiation. The new blood squeaked indignantly and clenched his asshole against the cool air. "Hey, hey!" he bitched, splaying back his ears.

"Oh, shut up, you little pussy," Desmond said, walking near. He reached up under his kilt and pulled down his panties. The hyena watched with a mix of wonder and worry. "Remember the night I got broken in, boys? Do that to DB."

"Jesus Christ," Nicolas and Latchkey said in awed unison, then the German Shepherd snickered. He reached under the upended hyena and rubbed his puffy anus with two fingers.

"Two knots up his butt at once," Latchkey sighed. "Holy hell, just thinking about it hurts my butt."

"Whoa, wait!" Deadbeat squealed. "What the fuck, two knots? At the same time!?" He stared up at Desmond with wide, wild eyes.

Desmond nudged Deadbeat's snout with his dainty foot. "I survived it, bub. You wanna wear the colors or not?"

"At this point, I don't know anymore!" Deadbeat groused. "But I--, I guess so, okay? Just, fuck - two knots!"

"I wouldn't demand it if I didn't think you could take it," confided Desmond, kneeling and rubbing Deadbeat's snout with his spindly raccoon fingers. Awkwardly and craving comfort, Deadbeat nuzzled Desmond's mitt. Interrupting the moment sharply, Desmond snapped, "Anybody got the lube?"

Nicolas and Latchkey looked at each other with dumb expressions. "I thought he had some," said the Great Dane, sounding like a scolded child.

"No-o-o, you had it last," Latchkey huffed back. "I think--, don't I have some in my room?"

Desmond grunted. "Go find it! Drool isn't gonna cut it here!" As Latchkey rose, griping all the while with a boner in his jeans, the foxcoon pointed at Nicolas severely. "Go with him! If you assholes aren't back in five minutes, I'm getting Jay and Keith instead!"

Once the dogs trundled off, DB awkwardly smiled at Desmond. "Boy, you--, you really boss them around! Will I get to do that?"

"No," Desmond sneered. "You're gonna be at the bottom of the ladder, baby." That did not surprise DB. He nodded shamefully. What did surprise the hyena was Desmond suddenly straddling him. His pelvis disappeared under Desmond's kilt and he felt the biker twink's naked package rubbing on his own. He gently groaned, and Desmond growled sordidly into his neck.

"You're cute," the fox puffed. "Ain't too late for you to leave now. You can walk right out that door."

Deadbeat thought that his original goal had lost focus in light of his initiation. He wrapped his girly arms around Desmond, not minding his damp leathers. "I want this," he firmly answered. Grinning in his nervous way, he added, "Don't ask me again, 'cause I might have changed my mind by then."

Following a chuckle and a rueful shake of his head, Desmond forced a kiss on DB. The hyena took it gracefully and very quickly got into the action, sliding his fingers through Desmond's soft, wet hair. His cock stiffened against Desmond's, helped along by the foxcoon's slow grinding. What was a tender moment was interrupted when somebody entered through the side door, shaking off the rain and bitching about the cold. The voice belonged to a girl.

Expecting bodies to come and go around the garage, Deadbeat did not deviate from the kiss and expected the same from the fox; but Desmond broke it off and looked up at the girl. "There you are," he mildly said. "We looked for you when we went by."

"Oh, like hell! And look at this little thing here!" the wet new person barked. Deadbeat tried to look back at her. She stepped around into his field of vision, and then he saw that she was a hyena too.

"What about him?" Desmond smiled, resting on his knees, still crotch to crotch with DB whom laid quiet and still with a stupid, toothy grin plastered to his face. "He's a new recruit. I gotta break him in, Anna-baby, no exceptions for anyone."

"Ugh," Anna grunted, squatting close by. She was pretty and brunette, sporting green eyes and brown fur with spots. Deadbeat, whom considered himself allergic to girls, did not look at her with any special interest beyond the intrinsic value of a fellow hyena. "What's your name?"

"DB - or Deadbeat, whichever works for you," he quietly answered.

She rubbed his chest and pinched one of his nipples. When Deadbeat squeaked, Anna smiled at him for the first time. "At least he makes cute noises! A-a-and I guess he's kinda okay to look at. But listen," she locked her eyes on his with no deviation, "just don't get any wise ideas." Very firmly, she wrapped her arm around Desmond's neck and squeezed him in close. The foxcoon's expression never changed from anything but a slightly amused smile. "He's mine."

The twink hyena found the possessiveness cute. He started his yappy giggle but silenced himself. "Yeah, I--, I get it, no problem!"

"There better not be," Anna hissed. She was grinning, showing off her teeth. In spite of his comparable chompers, Deadbeat felt little at that moment.

Sudden as a flash of lightning and equally jarring, Anna's demeanor changed when she giggled and pecked Desmond's cheek. "Okay, you guys have fun! I'm gonna go sit on Sampson's face." She stepped over Deadbeat, her damp clothes dribbling across his breast, and passed Latchkey and Nicolas moving single-file into the garage. They paid her no special mind besides respectful nods.

As the dogs opened up their zippers and popped their buttons, Deadbeat looked up at Desmond with his awkward grin. "Girls, am I right?"

"Shut the fuck up," Desmond said, smiling still. At his brothers but without looking their way, "You find that lube?"

"Right here, boss," Latchkey said. "Turns out we didn't have any at all, had to borrow it from Jeffrey. Dunno what he's gonna use when he fucks our sammiches now."

Both dogs shucked their jeans and grubby underwear at the door. They approached bottomless, still wearing their shirts and leathers. The Great Dane's sheath bulged and a red cock peeked from the mouth of it. Latchkey was fully exposed and engorged, his sheath gaped behind the terrible bulb of his knot. Deadbeat perused their groins with a rapid heartbeat. His penis softened and his swollen anus grew very tight.

"Um, uh, shit," Deadbeat whined, his tail lashing.

"Relax," Desmond purred, sliding his paw down through Deadbeat's fluffy chest fur. Deviously smirking, he remarked, "I mean that seriously. Relax or it's gonna be so much worse."

Desmond still straddled DB even as he beckoned the big dogs near. In a curiously practiced way, they stood at either side of Deadbeat's prone body, putting their genitals in easy reach for Desmond whom grasped the German Shepherd's naked cock and the Dane's sheath. Kneading both crotches, he sneered down at DB, looking terrifying in the shadows of the bikers' bodies. "What do you think, boys?" He stared down into Deadbeat's eyes. "Is he gonna be a good Smilax?"

"Pfft, nah," Nicolas spouted off, pushing his crotch into Desmond's palm. His penis slowly freed itself from its sheath and proved to be just as big as Latchkey's. "Probably doesn't even know how to ride a tricycle, let alone a hog."

"All he's gotta be able to do is ride my face," Latchkey sneered. "Bet you can do that, huh, kid?"

Desmond hushed them both and wiped their cumulative pre off on Deadbeat's chest. He rose from the hyena's loins with a chuckle and stepped over him, giving the new recruit a brief, shadowed look beneath his kilt. "All yours now, boys."

Like starving beasts, Latchkey and Nicolas descended on Deadbeat with no shortage of snuffles and grumbles. Deadbeat first gasped, then writhed in their grips, but could not escape them - though he never wished to do so anyway. Latchkey lifted the twink and flopped onto the grimy mattress, compressing its tired springs nearly to the floor. DB was made to lie against him back-to-chest. The dog felt like a great, heaving pillow; warm, moist with sweat and reeking of musk. Between Deadbeat's legs was the dog's member, jutting up against the hyena's small genitals like the gnomon on a sundial. In awe of the size, DB reached down and palmed it.

"Jesus Christ," the twink hyena puffed.

Snickering with evil intent, Nicolas knelt on the mattress between the splayed legs of both Latchkey and Deadbeat. He thrust his dense cock perpendicular to Latchkey's and onto Deadbeat's belly, allowing the hyena to inspect it as well. "What do you think now, pussy-boy? You're in the shit neck-deep, huh?"

Deadbeat's paws slid all around the surfaces of the dogs' penises, shifting often between them as if they were one contiguous mass. Dense red flesh throbbed irregularly under his fingers. Pre oozed from their pointed tips in spurts dictated by those menacing pulsations. The little hyena's heart raced, but upon feeling those incredible cocks grinding against his twinky body, he was becoming very aroused again. His own small cock, made semi-hard by Desmond's frottage and kissing, now raged like those of the big dogs.

"Jesus Christ," DB murmured again with emphasis. "Fuck..."

"Come on, this shit's taking too long." Desmond snapped his fingers repetitively. "Lube up and get a move on."

Latchkey squeezed the hyena possessively. Nicolas shrugged and smiled. "Sorry, buddy. Orders're orders, and I'm just followin' 'em."

The Great Dane lubed his meat up until it was shiny and dribbling. He passed the tube off to Latchkey whom did the same down between his and DB's legs. The hyena watched this ritual with a growing grin, the same nervous one he had been shooting around throughout the night. But there was awe in his green eyes too; it was appreciation for the sheer scale of the dogcocks he was about to be ruined with, and he felt a queer sense of honor along with his understandable fear.

"Nick, lift 'em up, let's get the little bastard started on mine," the German Shepherd puffed. Nicolas wrapped his slippery paws around Deadbeat's thighs, Latchkey holding his hips, and together they lifted him as if he weighed nothing.

DB kept his sissy legs wide. His cock twitched in the open air. "Ooh, shit," he murmured, speaking from that nervous pit deep in his gut. His puffy pucker was clenched much too tightly but it mattered very little when the Great Dane notched Latchkey's cock against it. A grin struggled hard to pull the Dane's floppy jowls into something besides a melted frown. His sinister intent appeared clearly enough for DB to see it.

Nicolas leaned in and pulled Deadbeat downward. The boy started to open up for the tapering tip of Latchkey's cock. The penetration had no noticeable effect on Latchkey, but the hyena squeaked and then grimaced, clenching his eyes and showing his teeth all the way up to the gums. For all of his tail lashing and vitriolic hissing, he took the penetration without asking for mercy.

Deadbeat's aptitude to take a cock was not lost on Desmond. He smiled as he idly masturbated. "You're doing fine, real fine." Stroking himself slowly under the kilt, he thought how unlikely it would be for him to even touch the edges after his boys had his way with the hyena. It was the spotted bitch's snout which was giving Desmond ideas, however.

"The-e-ere we go," Nicolas casually said. His tone would have been more appropriate for threading a bolt or draining an oil pan. However inappropriate his tone was, Deadbeat's swollen asshole was wrapped around Latchkey and resting against his knot.

In lieu of more blasphemy, Deadbeat grunted. He planted both feet on the floor at either side of the mattress and sighed. "That's just one of you?"

"Not even, he still hasn't knotted you," Desmond dryly said. "Nick, you get started now. No rest for the wicked."

"And money don't grow on trees," Deadbeat wearily added. Both dogs chuckled, Nicolas more sordidly than Latchkey, whom sounded just vaguely apologetic. The German Shepherd pulled Deadbeat up his cock, then eased him down again. He made a slow habit out of bouncing the boy and DB eventually started to let out some gentle croons. His face was still largely contorted into a grimace.

Nicolas watched a few moments longer before he flicked Latchkey's balls. The German Shepherd yelped and clicked his teeth. "Enough of the fleshlight shit!" Nicolas snapped. "Hold him up near the tip!"

"You son of a bitch," Latchkey bitterly sputtered. He complied, hoisting the hyena up until only the tip of his shaft still remained in the twink. Deadbeat clenched down and fearfully squirmed.

Nicolas licked his jowls and nose in a concentration tic as he brushed his penis up against the bottom of Latchkey's. His pointed tip nudged into the minimally stretched pucker of Deadbeat's anus. "Gonna split you the fuck open, bucko," Nicolas lowly snarled, choosing that moment to press up and in.

It felt to DB like all the lube in the world wouldn't have made a difference. He was wrong, but the pain was enormous no matter what. Nicolas speared him open, gaping his asshole into an oblong shape. When the dogs guessed their entries to be even, they started to pull him down together.

Desmond moved to the side to better observe the penetration. He leaned very close, giving himself a gonzo perspective, resting one paw on the floor and masturbating still with the other. "Taking it like a champ."

Praise was no comfort for the hyena with two monolithic dog dicks digging into him. Because their fat knots rested together, the shafts where pushed apart from one another; and the result of that separation meant Deadbeat's anus was stretched further and further as he descended. Even with both dogs mashing their knots together to work themselves in, the gape was already incredible.

Deadbeat's pain was evident for the way he curled his toes and emitted an airy, yappy cackle - a sound of distress for a hyena. Tears welled in his eyes and though he was fighting to keep them in, he was rapidly losing his composure, nearing the point where he didn't care if the bikers saw him crying.

"Give him a little rest," Desmond firmly commanded. Deadbeat sighed in palpable relief.

Surprisingly, neither dog complained. They eased Deadbeat upwards, moving him more quickly than they had dragged him down. Deadbeat sighed again as his asshole was allowed to relax, even though it retained an absurdly gaped shape.

Around the same time the dogs pulled Deadbeat up to just the topmost inches of their penises, Desmond leaned in close, jamming his snout into the action. He licked and smooched the mauled rim of DB's anus. The flesh was red and swollen, visibly throbbing with the hyena's racing heart. Therefore Desmond's tongue gave him considerable pleasure, but also pain. Deadbeat grimaced and whimpered.

The dogs didn't question Desmond's indulgence. They held Deadbeat where he was. The leader ended the respite when he patted Nicolas' hard behind and said, "Get after him again. Fuck his brains out."

So the dogs pulled DB down again, but this time without upsetting the hyena much more. He managed to dry his tears. Perhaps because of Desmond's lewd affection, his confidence was bolstered. When the dogs passed where they had stopped before, the hyena's features tightened up into that pained scowl. He hissed through his interlocked teeth and breathed in sharp snatches through his nostrils. But he still didn't beg them to stop.

The wordlessness ended when Latchkey licked one of Deadbeat's pierced, pert ears. "You're damn good, kid. Dez was a helluva lot more noisy than you're bein' now."

An uneasy laugh shook out of DB. He thought laughing would make him clench, and maybe it did, but his anal muscles were so gouged that he couldn't tell. "Uh, yeah? Really?"

"Really," Desmond dryly confirmed, rubbing Deadbeat's slim chest. Its fluff was still damp from the pre. He leaned near and kissed the hyena again. Deadbeat kissed back, but the kiss was quick and shallow. That didn't stop DB from licking Desmond's teeth in the short time given.

Finally, both knots rested on Deadbeat's incredibly gouged asshole. The casual observer would have thought it impossible that such a stretched, raw anus could go any further, least of all to accommodate those knots. The rim of it was like a piece of taffy pulled to the breaking point. The hyena imagined how horrendous the stretch must have looked, but he thought, as the dogs started to pull him back up, about wearing the colors. His own jacket with Smilaxes stylishly emblazoned on its shoulders. Whatever a smilax was, Deadbeat wanted to be one. He yowled to the dogs in his frenzy, "Knot me, already! I wanna be a biker!"

Nicolas let out a startled laugh. Desmond chuckled, shaking his head.

"You heard him. Get those knots up in his little asshole." As he hammered down Deadbeat's demand, Desmond unbuttoned his kilt and set it to the side. With his girly ass and small cock exposed, he stepped over top of the hyena, facing towards the Great Dane whom ground up into DB in a coordinated effort with Latchkey.

Deadbeat bit his lip when he saw Desmond's fine ass descending on him. It eventually rubbed against his snout. Emitting a hungry, determined growl, Deadbeat clutched the foxcoon's twink hips and dug his fingers in. His grip was matched by the energy with which he crammed his short muzzle into Desmond's ass crack. Between those cheeks was a tellingly swollen pucker replete with foxy musk. DB lapped across it as if his life were on the line.

Eating Desmond's asshole didn't take DB's mind off the pair of knots grinding against his back door. From the self-indulgent way Desmond moaned and wrapped his paw around the hyena's black cock, it seemed that Desmond wasn't trying to distract the new recruit, either. He pushed his ass down firmly and pinned Deadbeat against Latchkey.

Watching over Deadbeat's head, Latchkey sniggered. "Sloppy technique. Seems like this little homo isn't much of an ass-kisser."

"He'll get better," Desmond shrugged. Still jerking DB off, he pulled Nicolas down by the neck, forcing a kiss on the Great Dane as soon as it was possible. The twink sucked and gulped Nicolas' slobbering tongue, letting the dog's drool run down his chin. Deadbeat was roughly as messy in munching Desmond's asshole, beating his tongue against it intently.

Slanted away from the hyena, the imagery on Desmond's back was stretched out by the low angle, appearing to the hopeful biker like a monolith. It was hidden often by the foxcoon's bushy, swishing tail. Deadbeat reached up with his girly paws and rubbed Desmond's back, tracing the stitched letters and fading shape of the smilax flower. Feeling it seemed more important than seeing it.

Big things were happening. Latchkey and Nicolas grunted and brayed like monsters, mashing their knots together into DB's ruined anus. Every push made DB's toes curl and cock throb, and he wondered absently if they'd really fit without splitting him in half. Deadbeat trained his asshole with toys and real dicks alike, but two knots together was something no sane faggot was ever prepared for.

Involuntary tears welled up again in Deadbeat's eyes. He let loose a shaky, yappy giggle into Desmond's ass crack. It was lost in the heat and turmoil of the grinding, gyrating studs.

Nicolas broke out of the kiss with Desmond. Drool slopped from his jowls. "Uhn, for fuckin' Christ's sake...!"

Desmond snickered, mashing his ass down tighter still on Deadbeat. The hyena could breathe nothing but anal musk; could see little but his banded tail. Deadbeat's only reliable sense at that point was his touch, and what he felt more than anything were those knots bullying into him. It was happening with all the speed of a melting glacier.

Slowly, so agonizingly slowly, the implacable studs wedged their knots into DB. They tried their best to force them in in synchronicity but the hyena's asshole defied them just enough that Latchkey, with his better leverage, popped in first. That alone made Deadbeat yowl in a fuzzy mix of pleasure and pain right into Desmond's pillowy asshole. He thought that was it and they both had tied him up tight; but Nicolas arrived a moment later, foregoing his slow pace to outright mash it in. Anger that the German Shepherd had beaten him to the punch drove his loins forward.

In spite of the lopsided entry, Deadbeat was stretched to utter capacity. Two knots held open his supple asshole, pulling it into a massive oblong many inches long. His toes were curled tight and he raked his claws down Desmond's back, denting the distressed leather. Pained, yappy noises sounded off under Desmond's ass but the foxcoon held him down with his plush butt.

"Good job, boys," Desmond sluttishly growled, redoubling his efforts on Deadbeat's penis briefly. He unhanded it after a few firm jerks and engulfed it in his maw. Just a few wet suckles and eager bobs tipped the hyena over the edge. Deadbeat's anus was subjected to incredible pain, but the more pliable rectal muscles inside and his prostate gland loved the abuse in ways he could not resist. He blasted his load into the lead biker's mouth, across his tongue and against his palate. Desmond swished his banded tail while guzzling DB's mess down.

Even pulled taut like canvas, Deadbeat's rectal muscles had some strength to them. As he orgasmed, he kneaded the knotted cocks which overstuffed him. Dramatic, rhythmic clenches beyond his control stimulated the big dogs, making the Dane grunt and the Shepherd whine. The latter came suddenly and with explosive force, dumping his full nuts into the boy. Deadbeat was almost blissful in his own spreading afterglow, but when Latchkey filled him, he squealed. The cum easily seeped around the two knots, sullying both dogs' loins, Deadbeat's rear, and the already-disgusting mattress. Latchkey crooned and stupidly laughed as he had his orgasm.

Nicolas bit a floppy jowl and pulled back his meat. The knot popped out of Deadbeat audibly, with a wet suck of sorts. The hyena whimpered but held it together otherwise.

With his knot freed, the Great Dane started to rut into Deadbeat, bucking against Latchkey's full erection which was still buried in the twink's fuckhole. Using only the upper wall of Deadbeat's asshole was an odd way to get off, but Nicolas was far from picky. He bucked over and over, grunting and snarling as if feral. His tail wagged. Spittle fell from his absent jowls. Deadbeat rolled back his eyes and held Desmond tightly around the waist for comfort.

Finally Nicolas joined his fellow dog in orgasm. He didn't knot Deadbeat again but sank in as far as he could otherwise. "Uhhhn, shit." His load was just as impressive as Latchkey's, perhaps more so, but it was impossible to tell which dog had been more productive. A second rinsing of gooey slop shot into the hyena, one rope leading right into another for the better part of ten seconds until it tapered off into a drool. Nicolas, content in his duties, pulled out of the twink entirely and flopped back, panting. His penis stood up tall, still oozing semen which ran down its throbbing shaft.

Sporting a full erection, Desmond pulled off of the hyena at long last. Everyone expected Deadbeat to gasp in all the fresh air he could, but the hyena was reserved and quiet as he rested against the German Shepherd.

Twisting around and resplendent in his feminine beauty, Desmond pressed his crotch to Deadbeat's and braced his paws on the boy's breast. "I think we have ourselves a new brother here."

Deadbeat was exhausted, but he grinned massively. It was no nervous expression, instead an infinitely prideful one. "Am I? I'm one of you guys?"

Desmond nodded smartly. He pecked Deadbeat on the lips. They reveled in the musky flavors they both had on their lips. "Nicolas, get the others in here."

Latchkey tiredly laid where he was, content to be a platform for the two girly boys. Deadbeat, taking some initiative, gripped Desmond's uncircumcised little penis and jerked it crudely.

Slowly the garage filled with bikers, among them Sampson, Oz, Chen, and Jeffrey. Anna came back too, looking somewhat disheveled and hanging off of the bear's arm. Still Deadbeat single-mindedly masturbated Desmond, and the foxcoon seemed to have no performance anxiety. He huffed and groaned as the sissy hyena stroked him.

Even as the handjob went on, Desmond glanced around with half-lidded eyes. "Mmm, well, hey. Everybody here?"

"Everybody, boss," Nicolas said.

"Good." He laughed rather sharply. "'Bout to cum here." Everybody else laughed too, but more reservedly. "All right... I, Desmond, President of the Smilaxes, hereby proclaim this little piece of roadkill--," he paused and gyrated into Deadbeat's mitt. Anna alone snickered. "...to be one of our brothers. Deadbeat gets to wear the colors, he gets to ride bitch seat with whoever wants 'im, and--, uh, shit."

Abruptly, Desmond came, splattering his mess across Deadbeat's fluffy white belly and chest. As the lead biker crooned and closed his eyes, DB licked his lips. His jerking slowed, then stopped, and he indulgently licked Desmond's spunk from between his fingers. It seemed to him like an apt christening.

"Where was I?" the foxcoon ruefully asked.

With a chuckle which spread pleasantly through the room, Sampson said, "He gets to ride bitch seat."

"Thanks, Sampson." Desmond doubled over and kissed DB's sticky lips. "And eventually, if he earns it, he'll get a bike of his own. Deadbeat," he officiously said, "I declare you Princess of the Smilaxes."

"Princess?" DB witheringly asked. Desmond sneered down at him. All eyes were staring at him, expectant and stony. The hyena considered it for all of ten seconds, and then he nodded soberly. "Princess of the Smilaxes. Fuck yeah!"