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Over the winter months in a cold, harsh climate, one would expect indoor activities to skyrocket. There were, of course, those people who would do anything to stay outside, and adapted well to the kind of weather that was to be expected when snow and ice came for a visit, but the average person went through something slightly more akin to hibernation.

The total and utter lack of a crowd at the Dogpile in recent weeks, therefore, was a point of confusion for a lot of the fighters that routinely worked there.

Couldn't have been more than a hundred people out there in the crowd wondered Carl, one of the fighters who was under the regular employment of the Dogpile. A tavern that prided itself on having some of the best fighters in the country, and one that drew in massive crowds due to the exclusivity of having those fighters, the Dogpile was actually a very welcoming place, once people got past the aggressive atmosphere. The fights were all sanctioned and regulated just like any others, and as long as they lasted a couple rounds, no one in the crowd felt like they were being cheated out of a good time.

Carl was one of the best known fighters in the region to begin with, and he'd been working as a faithful boxer at the Dogpile for a few years already. A slim and toned rodent, Carl didn't mind the stigma that put him at a supposed disadvantage against so many other fighters. Rats were considered to be too small and weak to compete in a lot of professional boxing circuits, but at the Dogpile, he'd found a home where he could hang with the best of the best, proving his worth, and all the while, making a home out of it, as well; as long as he agreed to fight when called upon, he lived in the tavern for free, and in an upscale, beach community like the one the Dogpile was situated in, that was a greater cost than one might imagine.

Sweat ruffled and kicked up out of Carl's bright, clean white fur as he brushed a towel across his forehead and walked out of the locker room. He'd taken a brilliantly quick shower; just enough to wash the heavier sweat from his pores, and tossed his shorts back on to keep himself somewhat presentable. The Dogpile was already closed down for the evening, and it was unlikely that he'd run into anyone other than his boss, but he'd encountered a rabid fan or two before, and when you were naked, it didn't matter how tough you were: you became very vulnerable.

In fact, Carl was right on his way to go and speak with his boss, at least, as much as he could. The bright, captivating and even enchanting red orbs of his eyes hinted at a kindly and sweet nature, but it was hard for him to convey it. He could scarcely make noises more than squeaks, and often, he carried a small white board with him so that he could write down what he was thinking about, or further explain what he was trying to say. Under the tutelage of his current employer, his linguistic skills were improving, but as he turned the corner of the back hallway and stepped into her office, he was still holding the white board, just in case.

"That was quite a show you put on this evening, Carl," came a voice from a rather busy woman. She was sorting through papers and trying to organize her desk, and despite just how focused she was, she didn't so much as break stride when she greeted her employee. "Not too much of a crowd to appreciate it, but those who came had very high praise for you."

A quick, delighted squeak passed Carl's muzzle, and his lips curled up into a smile as he stepped into the small, cozy office of his boss, Gerdur Badiko. She was a thick, full woman, and quite proud of her figure. It wasn't unusual for her to wander around the bar with nothing more than a small top upon her body, keeping her breasts at bay, but leaving nothing to the imagination about them, and hiding nothing below the waist. She'd never heard a single complaint about it; to the contrary, most customers seemed enticed to stay that much longer when they saw just how relaxed the owner of the establishment was, and when it came to being around customers, she was just that: relaxed. To call her playful, flirty and fun would be perhaps as accurate, and though she didn't crave the attention, Gerdur certainly wasn't going to complain with just how enthralled her customers were with her presence.

"Lemme guess...here about your paycheck, Carl?" she asked, as she finally looked up from her desk. Her eyes were piercing in just how brilliant they were, and yet, there was a kindness behind them that would leave a man bewildered if he so much as gazed into them. The tight, teal button-up shirt around her chest was already straining, showing off gaps of the white fur that crept down from her breasts and across her underbelly and inner thighs. As long and exquisite as the tresses of her flowing, gorgeous hair were, the black locks never came close to offering added modesty, and only served to frame the beautiful muzzle of the Burmese Mountain dog.

Carl didn't have to speak for Gerdur to know just how much he admired her, but he did give a quick, almost mindless nod as he stared Gerdur down, wishing that he could simply pretend he wasn't gazing upon her breasts with a painful need to taste them.

He might not be so lucky as to get to, but that didn't mean his luck had entirely run out.

"I do suppose you've earned it...dragging out a fight like that keeps people spending money, and you know how much I love that," Gerdur complimented her favorite fighter, resting her cheek in the palm of her paw as she leaned over her table. "But I'm afraid I've got one more job for you before I can turn your paycheck over, my darling..."

Carl tilted his head just slightly. It was hard for him to express just how captivated he was by Gerdur, but, that being said...she already knew she had him on a string. She simply had to give it a quick tug.

"Come take a seat, Carl."

Gerdur stood up from the chair behind her desk, and immediately, Carl felt his cheeks flushing so bright, they nearly matched the intense hue of his eyes. A thick, smooth vibrator of amethyst was sticking straight out of Gerdur's womanhood, already coated with a thin layer of her feminine juices. A small puddle of the same sat in the chair, just under where her thighs had been, and even as she stood away from the wooden surface, tiny strands of the slick, amorous fluid clung tightly to her fur, making webs across the surface that she gently patted.

Carl looked stupefied at the offer, but with nothing more than a narrowing of the eyes from Gerdur, he took a step around the desk, nearly tripping on his own member as it tented against the front of his loose, baggy shorts.

"Oh, don't mind the mess...I'm sure it'll come right out," Gerdur mentioned, shooting her favorite fighter a quick wink. His legs moved sluggishly, and as he approached, Carl felt a bit like they were nothing more than noodles trying to wade through wet cement. He was almost shocked that he reached the chair at all, but as he did, he felt his thin, light frame being easily hoisted up; this wasn't the kind of sitting that he was expecting.

He let out a sudden squeak of shock and terror as he was effortlessly flipped over. The back of his head came to rest against the chair with a quiet, sticky splish, and his legs flopped over the back rungs of the chair. He could have easily rolled out of the position...until Gerdur shook her rump right over the end of his muzzle and dropped it back down, settling the moistened pucker of her tailhole upon his lips, nearly drowning him in the mingled scents of her arousal and her rump. "S-something tells me...you'll be p-perfect for this job, Carl," Gerdur bit down on her lip and groaned as she stammered across her words, able to feel the most subtle, and yet, most pleasant vibrations seeping into her ass as Carl squeaked rapidly, his eyes still wide, even as their view was filled with the thighs of his boss.

"I'm s-sure...nnnnyes... sure that you d-don't mind sitting there a while, Carl," Gerdur spoke down to him as she leaned over her desk once again. The paychecks of every other employee sat strewn across the surface of the aged wood, and at the very bottom of the messy pile, Carl's paycheck sat in wait, something that he could only imagine was done on purpose. "Perhaps when I g-get to your paycheck...I'll g-give you a little bonus!"

Knowing just what kind of evening he was in for, Carl took in a quick, nervous gulp and slowly opened his maw. Long, slick and eager, he let the drooling end of his tongue press against Gerdur's waiting tailhole, spilling his saliva into the mix with her own juices that had trickled back down. It was just slightly musky for the indentured rat, but as the tangy, salty-sweet flavors of her snatch joined into the cocktail, Carl found himself taking another pass at Gerdur's slippery pucker, much to the jumping, shaky delight of the Bernese.

Much as he was enjoying his extra job, Carl could only imagine just how much longer he'd be stuck where he was; after all, it would be nearly impossible for Gerdur to focus with a tongue probing and teasing at her tailhole...or so he thought.

"C-come on in," Gerdur murmured through a quick, pleasured gasp, seeing another employee come through the doors of her office. It was no secret, the way that Gerdur interacted with her employees when the tavern was closed, so the vixen that came strolling into the office merely giggled behind her paw as she saw Carl's member hanging over Gerdur's shoulder like a parrot, growing out in length and starting to drool tiny drops of precum onto the strained fabric of her shirt.

"Just here to pick up my check, Gerdur...I won't intrude," the vixen teased, knowing that Carl could hear every word that she said. "Looks to me like someone is working overtime, though."

Gerdur picked up a pen with shaking, jittery paws and managed to make a quick signature across the first paycheck, handing it over to the vixen with an exasperated, goofy smile. "No p-point in sending the boy home...he's still got so much energy!" she started to explain, though her voice turned to a cry of elation as Carl finally probed the very tip of his tongue into her exposed tailhole, trying to wiggle it further in to the unfairly tight passage.

"Won't deny it, Gerdur, I'm a little jealous...maybe you'll let me sample him, next time," the vulpine waitress suggested, as she took her check, despite the tiny, moist paw prints that were left upon it. "Try not to suffocate him down there, eh?"

"H-he'll be fine," Gerdur managed to reply, but already, the combination of the powerful vibrator that kept her womanhood entirely stuffed and the skillful brushes of Carl's tongue were beginning to overwhelm her, to the point that the desk was becoming a crutch for her to lean upon. There weren't many employees working at the Dogpile, and many of them had picked up their checks when they first left for the day, but there were always a couple who swung by at the very end of the shift, and for Gerdur, it was all part of her devious plan to keep Carl under her ass for that much longer.

Gerdur giggled as she felt the very tip of Carl's member poking into the back of her neck, finding it rather cute the way that his body was able to convey need to her in ways that his voice simply couldn't. She loved all of the nonverbal cues that he offered; the growing, pulsing flesh of his length, the trembling of his lower lip as it massaged and stroked against the rim of her tailhole, and the rapid, desperate warmth of his breath upon her flesh as his pulse raced inside of his chest were some of her favorites.

The only thing she could love more than those delightful little cues was what was already building deep within the depths of her sex, radiating outward and sending a familiar buzz through the proud, erect nub of her clit. She knew that an orgasm was close, and she didn't feel like waiting any longer for other employees to come in and gather their checks for her to reach it. Still trembling with all of the pleasure that Carl could offer her, she leaned over the desk and swept all of the papers aside, letting them flutter and spill down to the floor in a haphazard mess, and creating a perfect surface for the grand finale of her fun with Carl, who had been every bit the faithful servant that she thought he would be.

"Busy day today..." she groaned, as she brought a paw back to her own body and swirled her pawtips around in the soft, delicate fur upon her tummy. She lifted the straining, tight fabric of her top out of the way of a breast and exposed it to her own masterful touch, cupping the underside and giving it the most delicate of squeezes. She brought her free paw down to the vibrator and kept a tight grip over it, not wanting the tight, clenching inner muscles of her cunt to squeeze it right out of her body, knowing they were plenty strong enough to do just that, especially with the way that her inner walls simply drizzled her arousal upon it, leaving it glistening.

She could climax at any moment...but for every bit as dominant as she was over the slim, lithe rodent, she was fair with him, as well...and the cleared off desk had already given her quite the idea.

"C-Carl, hold...hold on," she groaned through her panting, slowly standing up from his muzzle and gazing down at him with affectionate, playful eyes. "Let's take c-care of your bonus, s-shall we?"

Winced eyes flew wide open, and Carl couldn't keep the playful grin from his muzzle as Gerdur patted the smooth surface of the desk. Her gesture would have been more than enough, but the way that her eyes refused to leave the surface of his skin, as if he were the only object of her desire, left him feeling drunk with lust as she took his paw and assisted him onto the desk. He came to rest flat on his back and looked up as Gerdur eagerly followed him, straddling her thighs around either side of his muzzle and pulling the vibrator free from her cunt. Her labia pouted and hung open, stretched well from the full, thick toy, but they looked like a delicacy to be savored to Carl, who didn't wait for the word to lean forward and bury his tongue deep into the soaking folds of his employer.

Gerdur would have cried out in delight if she hadn't already taken the rodent's member into her maw, sealing her lips around the very tip of his manhood and lowering her head, until she could feel the shaft passing over the flat of her tongue, and the head tickling and teasing the back of her throat. Her technique was nothing to be trifled with, and though Carl was one to pride himself on just how long he could last, that rule went out the window when Gerdur was on top of him. She was already on the verge of her climax, and if she wanted Carl to release with her, she'd find a way to get him there...whether it was the way that her paws eagerly gripped the base of his sack and squeezed it every time she felt the warmth of his blood rushing through it, or the way her tongue swirled over the very end of his member like the tongue of a hungry animal around the melting tip of an ice cream cone, she'd bring him to the brink whenever she wanted to...and her patience was already thin.

Letting out a squeak that almost bucked Gerdur off of the table, Carl buried his tongue as deeply as he could in the open, waiting cunt of his boss and explored her every surface, tasting her inner walls with all of the hunger and greed that a man could ever feel. He collected her plentiful juices on his tongue and swallowed them in, even as he felt their volume increasing around his slick, moist muscle, a sure sign that her walls were coming down, further and further out of her control. "Mnnn...nnnngh!" she grunted around her plentiful mouthful, the only warning that she could possibly give Carl as she felt her inner walls contracting and convulsing all of their own accord. A warm, oozing flow of her mess was the reward for his hard work as she finally reached the climax she'd been working at for so long, blessing the eager tongue of her favorite fighter with the heated nectar of her womanhood. Flickering back and forth in wild delight, Gerdur could feel her tail brushing the excess sweat from Carl's forehead as he never skipped a beat, letting the excessive juices spill over the corners of his muzzle and make a proper mess of him, as he returned the favor to his boss.

After all, Gerdur was just as greedy as Carl was, and masturbating behind her desk for several hours was working up quite the appetite. She knew that only one thing could satiate it, and though Carl could never find the words to warn her, she could feel the growing volume of slick, clear fluid upon her tongue, and her body shuddered with delight as her orgasm only drove that hunger onward. She gulped and swallowed with each drop of her throat, letting the muscles tease and milk around the sensitive flesh of Carl's cock, until something thicker and creamier suddenly erupted upon her greedy tongue. Her eyes went wide as she felt the heat of his cum spilling into her maw, and her cheeks began to bulge with the volume. She swallowed rapidly and let out another gasp of surprise as she squeezed his sack, making sure to milk the lucky rat absolutely dry of every drop that he had, and as each fresh burst of seed coated her maw, she let out another groan of elation, swallowing all that he could offer not just with ease, but with enjoyment.

Of course, she didn't mind being just a little bit of a tease and opening her muzzle wide, letting some of the excess seed spill back down over the shaft of Carl's length, mingled with the slippery juices of her own saliva.

"Nnngh...ahh... now if that isn't a tasty looking treat, I don't know what is, Carl..." she whispered playfully to him, admiring her own handiwork with such desire that it was a wonder she didn't clean up after herself. "But...a bonus is just that, a bonus...it doesn't last forever, and it looks to me like you'd better hit the showers..."

Just barely able to look around the wide, proud rump of his employer, Carl offered a tiny frown, having planned to hit the showers afterwards anyway, but naturally, he didn't want to do it alone.

Gerdur could resist most of the wiles of any man if she wished to, but those deep, emotional eyes, looking so entirely needy that it was almost painful, were tough for even Gerdur to ignore.

"... Fine, fine... I guess I am a bit of a mess, thanks to you," Gerdur admitted, as she snickered back at her cum-stained fighter.

"I hope you're up for working double overtime."