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Possum Prison Pussy

Part 2: Shark Bait

That night with Magnus was brutal. The elephant used Sylva like a cheap whore, getting hard again only after a few minutes and going right back at it. Sylva shut his mind off, he became a mindless drone obeying Magnus' every demand.

Bend this way. Suck this. Take that. Tell me you want it.

“I…I want it…d-daddy," Sylva gasped and sobbed into the pillow he was biting on. The command forcing him back into the jerking reality of being railed and having no say in the matter. Magnus hadn't had pussy in years, and now that he had it, he was going to wear the poor opossum out, but not gape him permanently. Despite Sylva's thoughts on the matter, Magnus was being gentle. As gentle as a thug king like him could be with a virgin pussy, but gentle nonetheless. He had big plans for his stupid bitch, and he wasn't going to let them fall flat just because he wanted to get his entire dick wet; the first three quarters were fine for him.

For now.

Hours passed and Magnus gaped that pussy for every ounce of pleasure he could milk. Getting as deep as he could without forcing any more than he needed to. His dick still popping out between a few rounds to be sucked. Sylva sucked better than he fucked, for sure, but that didn't mean that Magnus wouldn't milk one out in that cunt.

After a fourth nut being bust inside his sweet, young hole, the novelty wore off. Magnus pulled out, Sylva's cunt gushing cum before oozing it out onto the bed. He wasn't gapping massively, his pussy lips just kept apart from having been stretched so much.

“Fuck, you can't even hold my nut in, can you," Magnus wiped his forehead with his trunk, flicking the sweat down on his opossum's matted fur. He gripped Sylva's scruff and pulled him up to speak into his ear directly, his hot breath smelled of cigars. “You better tighten back up or you ain't no good to me."

“Y-Yes…" Sylva managed to let out through his exhausted maw.

“You're going to start doing some exercise to keep that pussy tight," Magnus let Sylva flop forward into the mess of the bed. Sweat, cum, and drool left practically every corner of the sheets a darker shade than they started.

“Yes…yes…whatever you say," Sylva's mind was broken. He just obeyed. It was the only way to survive in that situation. Magnus gave him no choice.

“Now wash up, you're fucking gross. Get back to your damn bunk," Magnus ordered as he went to the door and knocked. Crux opened the door.

“Ya done good Crux, that was some premium pussy I just cracked open."

“So my debts are cleared?"

“Yeah, they're clear, once that little pussy boy is back in his cell where he belongs."

“You got it sir," Crux winked and came into the room. Magnus turned and went into his private bath.

“Sylva, you're with me," Crux spoke. The opossum got up, his body naked and covered in cum and spit.

“What should I wear?" Sylva more asked the room than Crux himself, but Crux did answer.

“I'll get you fresh scrubs once you're washed up. Come, there's a shower down the hall."

Sylva took a shaky step forward, and then another. He winced as the ache in his abdomen started to set in. He gripped his arm and continued, cum dripping out of his used hole and onto the floor with wet plats. Several of the wads were stained pink with his still bleeding cherry. He got to the door where the zebra was waiting for him and leaned against the wall for support. He looked up, one of Sylva's eyes glued shut from a facial the elephant had given him.

“You gunna make it, or do you need me to drag you?" Crux was being sarcastic, but Sylva was sore and weak. He didn't know if he could make it out of the room, let alone down the hall. Sylva just sniffed and hobbled out, limping to the showers. He got under the showerhead and expected a spray of icy liquid, but to his surprise it was warm.

Sylva didn't pay much attention to his surroundings. It was an abandoned communal shower and the guard was stationed outside. He could be alone. He grabbed a bar of soap and went to work cleaning himself off. He got to work removing crusted cum and murky spit, fresh bruises already darkening. He was about to wash further when he heard the door to the bath open.

“I'm almost done…" Sylva said, his voice echoing off the walls.

“Oh na, ya little jailbird," Crux growled and gripped him by the scruff and pressed his head against the tile. Sylva screamed briefly in pain as Crux's powerful arm kept him pinned.

“What are…"

Crux slammed his head against the tile again and his vision swam, his nose bleeding.

“You stay quiet," Crux growled. “Your little fairy ass has been teasing me all day. You think I'm gunna let you go without getting my rocks off?"

“No Stop!" Sylva started to panic, his hands clawing at the tile, only for Crux's arm to pin him against it by the back of his neck.

“You scream, I'll fucking end you," Crux growled. Sylva instantly tensed up, biting his tongue as fresh tears welled up and rolled down his face.

“Please," Sylva whispered, but all he felt was Crux's naked body come up behind him in the shower, that monster horse dick pressing between his thighs. “please…"

“Yeah," Crux smirked and sniffed his hair, the only smell was cigars and soap. “Keep asking me to stop. Keep crying like a little bitch," Crux grabbed the base of his foot long and lined it up with Sylva's opening. He slipped in without any issue.

“Fuuuuuck," Crux breathed, his hot breath running over Sylva's ear. “I don't mind getting the Boss's sloppy seconds. Your ass is mine fag boy." Crux started to thrust, the warm water running over them.

Sylva had never been fucked before, so being fucked brutally and not having any time to recover was almost as bad as being raped the first time. His joints ached, his pussy stung, and all he could do was bite back the sobs as his legs shook. Sylva bit his lip so hard it bled as he held back his shaking sobs as the guard had his way with him. Luckily it didn't take long.

Crux was pounding out a quickie, his dick sliding in and out fast and the water smacking at his hips as he bruised that ass further.

“You tell anyone about this, you're a fucking dead man. Got that, Cheeks?" Crux huffed into his ear, his cock getting ready to bust. Sylva managed to sob out something that sounded like a yes and nodded. The zebra's thick toes dug into the tiles as he laid into Silva, his hips a blur before he thrusted in a few times, deep and hard with sharp thrusts. That flared tip visibly pushing against Sylva's abdomen as he unloaded deep inside him.

“Fuck," Crux pulled out unceremoniously and Sylva crumpled to the floor in the spray of the shower. He couldn't breathe without sobbing. He couldn't hold it together. It was too much, the fresh cum was warm as it oozed out of his bruised hole. He watched as his tears were lost down in the stream of water, jealous of their ability to slide down the drain and vanish.

“Walk it off pussy boy," Crux spat on him, the thick wad smacking his face, the same spot where his burn was. Just then the hot water ran out and only icy cold shards were smacking him on the floor. Crux had already left, having cleaned up. Sylva had no other choice since he couldn't just die by laying there. He pulled himself up and followed his second rapist into the next room to dry off and suit up.

Sylva got back to his cell without another word, not a single peep from him. The only sounds were a couple of orders from Crux, his voice making Sylva's heart stop every time he spoke. Crux was surprised though when he got back to the cell. Something was folded up in front of it. Crux just chuckled and tossed Sylva the note. It fell to the floor. He picked it up with difficulty.

The cells in your block get cold. Sleep in this. That's an order.

_ -M-_

Sylva was then shoved into his cell with the folded sheet. It was a blanket, but it wasn't just any blanket. It reeked of cigars. It was the blanket from Magnus' bed. He gasped, his breath hitching in his throat as he fought back tears. Sylva just took his blanket from his bunk and the blanket he was ordered to sleep in and curled up in the corner of his cell. The reek of sweat and sex kept him awake until dawn broke and the guards came to let them out of their cells.

***

“Kid? You doin' okay?" Lawrence asked.

No…

“Yeah…" he muttered as he sat there with his food. Lawrence lifted a hand to place it on Sylva's shoulder, but he flinched away.

“Don't!" Sylva caught himself and quashed his panic down deep inside of him where it could scream in silence. “Don't touch me…" he bit his lip and rubbed his shoulder, his claws gripping into his scrubs. Even that touch made his skin crawl in the worst way. He wanted to tear the flesh from his shoulder as it squirmed like it was teaming with ants just below the skin. Instead Sylva gripped it, his claws digging into his scrubs until his body mistook the sensations for his own touch and calmed down.

“Okay, kid," Lawrence understood. “You need to eat something. You got to keep your strength up, or you won't recover."

Sylva paused and looked over at Lawrence who was munching on his scrambled eggs. That little old bastard knew!

“Why didn't you stop it…" Sylva felt his panic bleed into something far more pointed.

“What could I have done," Lawrence sighed. “Tyson doesn't take kindly to me meddling in his affairs as much as I appreciate him staying out of mine."

“Lawrence," a deep voice rumbled behind the two. Sylva felt every muscle in his body ache as his panic forced a little yelp out of his maw. It was Magnus.

“I'm here to settle," he ordered. Sylva could hear the confidence and ease at how he spoke.

“Can it wait until after breakfast?" Lawrence offered. “I don't like doing business on an empty stomach."

A fist came down gently on the table next to Lawrence and Magnus leaned into view. His massive head blocking out the light from above with his ears.

“And I don't like being pushed off," Magnus countered. His trunk went under Lawrence's chin and forced him to look up. “Account 7CX, clear it."

Lawrence narrowed his eyes, “I don't think you have enough money in your account to clear that balance."

“Then maybe put on your glasses and take a second glance," Magnus flicked the pangolin's chin with his trunk. “Clear it and pull your leans. He's itching to get in the red again."

“You, boy," Magnus shifted his attention to the opossum. Sylva let out a little yelp, his body visibly shivering. “You eat with me from now on."

“Can't the boy just finish his meal?" Lawrence offered.

“Are you really talking back to me now?" Magnus growled. “Crux is cleared out, and your leverage is gone. Without him in your pocket, you can't stop me anymore. From now on, you work for me."

“We'll see how long that lasts," Lawrence sighed and turned his head away from Magnus. “Do as he says lad. You'll be better off for it."

“Finally talking sense," Magnus' permanent scowl cracked into a dark grin before he turned to Sylva. “Get your slop and follow me."

“But…" Sylva managed to squeak out. Magnus' paused and looked deep into Sylva's eyes, his dark grin falling into his scowl again.

“Yes…" Sylva muttered and grabbed his tray in his shaking hands.

“That's what I thought," Magnus huffed, standing back up to his full height. The elephant swaggered forward and past Sylva, the opossum painfully aware of Magnus' presence. His skin felt like it was exposed to a broiling oven wherever that man walked. Sweat prickling with fire ants tingling beneath his skin.

Magnus cleared his throat when he didn't hear the pitter patter of obedient feet behind him. It might as well have been a bomb going off as Sylva stood up so quickly one of his slices of toast fell to the ground. He didn't try to get it as he followed Magnus, trampling it with his shoe.

Had Sylva been paying attention, he may have noticed that all the prisoners were parting before Magnus and clearing a path. No one wanted to even hinder his gait, let alone inconvenience him. Sylva did feel like he could breathe for a moment, but it's because walking in the wake of Magnus gave him some space from all the men around him. It was like driving on the highway in the wake of a police chase after having been trapped between semis.

Again, had Sylva been paying attention, he may have heard the few cat calls and whistles. He may have even heard someone calling his prison name “Cheeks," but he wasn't paying attention. He was numb, out of his own mind, and the only reminder he still had a body were the aches and pains from the night before. He was suddenly pulled back into reality as someone gripped his arm and jerked him around.

Sylva screamed, his voice ripping through the cafeteria as thick powerful fingers gripped his wrist and caused him to drop his tray. Tears were already threatening to break down his cheeks as he was forced face to face with a boar. He was stacked, hairy, one of his tusks was missing, and the other he had was golden. His scrubs seemed a bit too tight, showing off the hard work he had put in on his body. Powerful forearms with a thick matting of hair and a gut that looked just as powerful as it was round.

“Your name's Cheeks, right?" He growled, his golden tusk gleaming. “From where I come from, you acknowledge someone when they say your name."

Sylva's eyes went wide as he tried to pull his arm away, but the boar just yanked harder, causing him to cry out in pain, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Shut up you little faggot, or the guards will come running," the boar warned. That was the last thing he said to Sylva as a couple of guys came up and gripped him, pulling him back.

“What the fuck!" The boar spat out. “Let go of me! My debts are paid!"

“Not anymore," Magnus snarled as he turned to the boar.

“What!" It was the boar's turn for his eyes to bug out. “No, Magnus, buddy, big guy, Boss, I ain't doin'nothin'. Just showing the fresh meat some manners. I know the mess is your turf, but I can still talk to who I want, right?"

Magnus just nodded to the guys who had the boar. They threw him down to the ground. The two men forced him onto the spilled tray of food in front of Sylva.

“Clean it up," Magnus ordered.

“What the shit Magnus, we have rules," the boar spat.

“And one of those rules is about touching my food, especially my biscuit bitch."

“Oh shit!" the boar put his head down. “I didn't know, I swears I didn't know. Their ain't no way I could've known!"

“You couldn't see the mark I left on his face," Magnus put his shoe down on the boar's head. “Regardless, you of all people should know. Ignorance of the law don't excuse you from it."

“What's going on here?" One of the guards came over. He was a bulldog.

“This guy was just trying to pick a fight," Magnus said, pulling his foot off the boar. “I just handled it before it got out of hand."

“You know that's my job," the guard said, but he gave a little wink to Magnus before calling a few other guards over to pull the boar away. “You know the punishment for starting trouble. Throw him in solitary."

“No! NO stop! I ain't done nothin'! I swear!" The boar started to panic, grappling with the guards. They pinned him to the ground faster than Sylva thought humanly possible. “Stop! I won't resist!"

“Looks like he's pretty violent, doesn't he?" Magnus narrowed his eyes and the guards pulled out their night sticks and started beating him down. “Very violet if you ask me." Magnus' scowl cracked into a dark grin as he crossed his arms and looked down at the boar. He screamed and Sylva swore he could hear a few ribs crack.

“He should be good to go," Magnus nodded and the bulldog ordered the boar away. The prisoner wasn't talking anymore, he wasn't even moving. They dragged him off, his shoes scraping against the floor and making streaks in the few drops of blood he spilled.

“Come boy," Magnus ordered like he would a pet. Sylva was so shocked he didn't hear. Instead he felt Magnus start to walk away and it caught his attention. Magnus was the only man moving, the rest of the prisoners gave Sylva a wide berth as he followed.

“If anyone gives you any shit, come to me right away," Magnus growled. “I'll fucking kill them."

Sylva didn't know how to feel about that. Safe? Terrified? His heart landed somewhere between the two. He didn't know what to do besides put his head down and follow. They approached his table. It was packed to the gills with people, each one more menacing than the last. There were two open spots. Magnus sat in one and Sylva sat next to him.

“Everyone, welcome the fresh meat," Magnus grunted out with a cocky smirk.

“So this is the infamous Cheeks we've been hearin' so much about," a rhino exclaimed, toast crumbs flying between his teeth as he spoke.

“Fruit-Loop ain't lyin' this time, huh Boss," a particularly tall fox smirked. “I see how he got the nickname."

“Aww, look at that blush," a bat smirked with a spoon in his mouth, showing off his sharp teeth. “Cheeks is a fine name."

“Leave the poor kid alone, Ears," A leopard with milky eyes chastised him. “It's only his second day."

“And already at the boss's table no less," the bat named Ears said. “Bet he already has the boss wrapped around his little finger."

“Watch it, Ears," Magnus growled, but it didn't have that usual cutting edge to it.

“Yeah, yeah," Ears rolled his eyes, his bat ears constantly twitching back and forth. Sylva noticed a large chunk had been taken out of one. “Just saying what others are thinkin', you know that I know you can dick down any bitch up in dis here canary cage."

“Who thinks I'm pussy whipped?" Magnus' eyes narrowed with genuine interest.

“Most of block C," Ears responded. “They already are planning on…well…let's just say Whispers should accompany him when he goes to shower."

“Done," Magnus snapped his fingers at someone further down the table. “Whispers!"

Sylva looked down and nearly shit his pants. A hulking, great white shark sat at the table, his rippling muscles and sculpted body looking almost comedically squished together as he attempted to sit. His knees were above the table and he had to lean forward to really reach the food on his tray. His dark hide had a series of scratches and scars. He looked up, his eyes cold and sharp…but…not predatory.

“Cheeks is in your block. Keep him safe from now on."

The shark just nodded, his lips barely moving to show the rows of razors in his muzzle.

“He said he's got it covered," Ears confirmed. “But he wanted to know who should look after Checkers?"

“He can cover them both," Magnus reasoned. “If he needs help, he'll tell you guys."

“What about him being in Lawrence's cell?" Ears asked. “You think that'll be a problem?"

“I took care of Crux," the elephant smirked. “It's only a matter of time before he's in the red again, but with Cheeks, I'm sure he'll be in our red, not Lawrence's."

“You're putting a lot of pressure on the kid," the blind leopard started. “Don't you think he should have some time to adjust before you throw him into the rotation?"

“Checkers," Magnus narrowed his eyes as he looked at the leopard's blind ones. “You may be smart, but don't get smart with me."

“Sorry Magnus," the leopard known as Checkers responded. “I mean no disrespect, but he is more likely to get caught up in something if we don't prepare him for what might come next."

“Shut your cock holster, Checkers," Magnus grunted, but Checkers knew that Magnus knew he was right. “Fine, if you're so concerned, you train him. You can even teach him how I like my bitches."

“Tight and obedient, got it." Checkers gave a nod, but not at Magnus. The light mannerisms of visual cues were not something the blind leopard ever learned, nor needed.

“Yeah," Magnus gripped Sylva by his shoulder and pulled him in close. It took everything in Sylva to not scream as he bit his inner lip and screwed his eyes shut. “And needy. Whispers, you've been chompin' at the bit to get some good pussy. You want to be his first customer?"

“Wait…I thought it was just you," Sylva suddenly found his voice. Magnus just gripped Sylva by his scruff, the opossum bringing his hands up to grip at the hand digging into his neck.

“Speak when spoken to, skank," Magnus growled. “I cracked open the merchandise last night so I could confirm its quality. Just because you're prime, fuckable pussy, doesn't mean you can talk back to me. Now, stop focusing on flapping your lips and get to tightening the ones that'll make me really happy."

Sylva felt a growing sense of panic, his heart racing, his purple eyes darting back and forth.

“I'm waiting," Magnus growled.

“What," Sylva shuddered the words out, his voice a mix of shivering fear and labored breath.

“Maybe some training would be a good idea," Magnus growled and pushed him off his chair. Sylva yelped as he fell to the ground. He looked up at his tormentor and rapist.

“Sit," Magnus ordered.

“You just pushed me off the…" a dark look from Magnus dried Sylva's mouth instantly. Have you ever felt such paralyzing fear that your joints felt like there were welded together? With that stare alone, Sylva knew what it was like to stare down the barrel of a gun. This man owned him. Not just him, but this damn prison.

“What did you just say?" Magnus snarled. The table got quiet, very, very quiet.

“Y-Yes…yes sir…" Sylva squeaked and Magnus' scowl cracked into a dark grin.

“Good girl, now sit," Magnus ordered again. Sylva got up and was about to sit at his chair when it was pulled out from under him. A painful shock ran up his ass and into his abdomen. Painful memories of the day before flashed through his mind of being under Magnus. His bitch, his pussy boi, his little whore.

“No," Magnus smirked. “If you insist on being a bitch, expect to be treated like one. Now, sit."

Sylva didn't know exactly what to do, so he sat on the floor. He held back his groans of pain, hiding the protests his own muscles and joints gave him as he sat there. He kept his head hung and sniffed a bit.

“Good, girl," Magnus growled. “That's a good Emma."

Sylva felt a sting at his first name Emmanuel being twisted into a female pet name. He just bit his cheek, the coppery taste of blood souring his mouth as he fought back tears.

“Shit, Boss," Ears chuckled. “You're making the poor kid cry." Ears mocked Sylva. The opossum wasn't able to see the bat from his vantage point. Just his shoes.

“I'll do a hell of a lot more if she doesn't shape up," Magnus grinned. “So, Checkers. Gunna teach him the ropes?"

“Of course," the leopard answered. That was the end of the talk of Sylva, or maybe it wasn't. Sylva didn't hear anything besides mumbled words between his sniffing. All he did was hold back the tears as he sat on the floor like a good prison bitch.

***

Sylva was dismissed and Whispers the shark came and ushered both him and Checkers into the bath. It was a simple communal shower. He may have showered the night before, but he had sat in that disgusting reminder of a blanket all night. He would wash his skin off if he could.

“Here," Checkers the leopard held out his fist for Sylva. The opossum learned quickly what happens when he doesn't obey orders, so he just held out his hand under the leopard's fist. He didn't do anything.

“Darling," Checkers smiled, the emotion not really filling his milky eyes. “I can't see if you're holding your hand out or not. Cup my fist with your hand." Sylva blushed with embarrassment and lifted his hand up.

“There ya go," Checkers smiled and opened his hand. A couple red pills dropped into his palm. “For the pain. I know what it was like when I first met Magnus."

“Wait…you and him?" Sylva looked the leopard up and down, really eyeing him up for the first time. He was tall, slender with gorgeous curves.

“Yes," Checkers smiled. “Us bitches got to stick together, and you just landed the best man to keep you safe."

“How the hell can you say that," Sylva scoffed.

“I didn't say he would be nice," Checkers spoke as he took Whisper's hand. “Don't worry. I'll make sure you'll learn the ropes. Now take your pain killers and we can get down to business."

Sylva wanted to be mad at someone, to lash out and scratch and bite, but when he looked up at Whisper's looming form he felt himself freeze in fear. The shark just nodded when their eyes met. Sylva slapped the pills into his mouth and dry swallowed them. It was subtle, but Whispers squeezed Checkers' hand to signal him that Sylva took the pills.

“Okay," Checkers smiled and offered him his hand. “I promise if you stay next to us, you'll be safe."

Sylva looked at Checkers' hand and up to Whispers again. He was quite stoic, but he nodded reassuringly. Sylva took the leopard's hand and they went into the showers together. They disrobed, the gentle curves and contours of Checker's body coming into view. He wasn't built, but he was definitely toned. No abdominals but a soft underbelly and a nice ass with flicking feline tail.

And a dick that would put most men to shame! It had to be eight inches long! The tip was barbed and slapped between his knees as he walked. Normally Sylva would have looked shamelessly, but the last thing he wanted to look at was more dick. He turned to look at Whispers. He was standing guard as they changed in the corner. A couple of guys were coming over and a deep, wet, guttural growl came from Whispers. It was like a croc growl only wetter and deeper. Almost like he was gargling salt water through that snarl.

“Aw fuck!" One of the guys cursed. “Magnus already snatched Cheeks up!"

“Yeah, no problem with us," the other guy said. “Not gunna go stomping on Magnus' toes. Just let us by so we can grab our-"

Whispers hissed, and continued to growl.

“Fuck! Fine! We'll wait!"

Whispers nodded and kept an eye on them as Sylva and Checkers finished disrobing. The display making Sylva feel safer…even if it was just a little.

Sylva pulled off his shirt and then his pants. When he did he noticed a wet spot on the crotch of his scrubs. He furrowed his brow and inspected further. The reason was obvious to anyone who could still see. His boxers were drenched. He gasped and looked on with confusion.

When did that happen?

Then Sylva remembered how his body responded when Magnus had used him the night before.

Did…did he get off on being treated this way?

Sylva hooked his thumbs into his boxers and pulled them down. They slapped the tile wetly on the floor. A couple strands hung from his pussy before dripping onto his underwear. His slick pussy juices had soaked his thighs, his cunny a sloppy mess of his obvious arousal. His pussy was still gaping a little from the rough treatment the night before, the usually bright pink of his folds was obviously bruised up and swollen with more than just need. The wetness of his fur making it mat and show off more of the sensitive bruised flesh beneath.

“Are you ready?" Checkers asked. He had already gone over to Whispers and was holding his hand. Well, really just one of the hulking shark's fingers. The shark kept to his duty and stayed vigilant for any other vultures looking to take advantage of them. Sylva just grabbed his underwear and used it to mop up the mess as quickly as he could.

“Yeah," he sniffed before coming over, his pink toes smacking against the tile as he did so.

Whispers guided them into the showers. He pushed a few guys out of the way of the stalls right next to the exit. They didn't even question it as soon as they saw who it was. Sylva had been so self-absorbed that he never noticed that Whispers was fully naked as well. The man was sculpted like a beast, his shark slit had a duo of tapered cock heads poking out as he kept watch.

“Don't worry," Checkers smiled. “He has a bodyguard fantasy. He just gets off keeping us safe."

“What," Sylva looked up at the shark and he winked down at him. Sylva shivered, and not in a good way. He just looked away and cranked the heat on the shower. Hot water blasted him. It was so hot it turned his skin pink and caused the burn on his cheek to sting, but he didn't care; that pain was better than the other pains he felt. Just thinking about it made his skin crawl and tingle in disgust. He felt a sudden ache go up his cunt as it clenched.

“Fuck…" Sylva whispered in shame as he put his forehead against the green tile, the cool stone a stark difference to the near skin scalding water.

“You don't have to crank it so hard," Checkers said. “I can feel the heat from over here."

“I like it hot," Sylva lied. “I just want to get clean. I want it all off me. It won't come off!" Sylva couldn't hold it back anymore and he collapsed onto the floor and sat under the hot stream of the water. He grabbed the bar of soap and vigorously started to scrub. He washed his chest, the feel of any hairs sticking together reminded him of being coated in cum. Every crevice he washed ached in pain and reminded him of how Magnus treated him the night before.

“Hey, hey, hey," Checkers said, coming down to his knees and crawling over to the opossum and putting a hand on his shoulder. Sylva screamed and backed away and out of the hot stream, the soap slipping out of his hands and skidding across the tiled floor.

“Whispers…do you think we could clear the room?" Checkers asked. Whispers nodded and snapped his fingers at a couple people who were also standing around. They ushered people out of the showers and the doors locked. It took a few minutes, but for Sylva, it was barely a few seconds. The entire time he was sitting in the corner of the showers, his head on his knees and his arms around his head as he panted.

“Listen, Cheeks," Checkers started.

“Don't call me that!" Sylva shrieked and sobbed. He couldn't say anything else as he tried to hold himself together.

“Emmanuel," Checkers said even and calmly. “I know this is a big change for you. I understand this sucks, but we don't have the luxury to deal with this kind of thing. You have to toughen up fast, or this place will eat you alive."

“I know…" Sylva sobbed.

“Good," Checkers said and opened up his arms. “We don't get to cry, but I bought us a few minutes if you wanted to-"

Sylva lunged forward and practically tackled Checkers' into a hug. He screamed and sobbed, his chest heaving as the warm water rushed down them, the only cold liquid the tears that dripped from Sylva's face. He screamed and sobbed, his breath heaving as he gripped onto Checkers like a buoy in a storm. Sylva had never cried so much in his life, but he was given permission and he needed it. He gasped into Checkers' neck while the leopard gently stroked his back. The only other soul in the showers was Whispers, and Sylva felt safer with him there anyway.

Sylva was unaware of how long he was like that, but he eventually came out of it and looked up at Checkers. He was so stoic in an inviting way. His facial expressions were nonexistent, but he still somehow exuded warmth.

“Okay," Checkers smiled and petted Sylva's head, brushing some hair out of his face. “You feel a little better?"

“I don't want to do this," Sylva sniffed.

“I know," Checkers patted his head. “But it's just temporary, and not all of it is bad."

“Wh-What do you mean?"

“Well, you were reserved for tonight, but if you want, I can show you exactly how this isn't all bad." Checkers lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. Whispers turned around and looked down inquisitively.

“You want your chip now?" Checkers asked. “I think it might help."

Whispers smiled and nodded.

“What…what do you mean his chip?"

“He's your first client," Checkers said. “And before you panic, he won't be fucking you."

“Then…then what does he want?" Sylva felt a sudden fear growing.

“Magnus really did a number on you last night," Checkers started. “That's just a fact, and I know how it can be. So instead of someone who would bruise you further, he booked Whispers here."

“What does he want?"

Whispers decided to answer in his own way. He knelt down and offered his hand out, the massive paw webbed, scared, and had claws that could easily tear flesh from bone, but the gesture was incredibly soft in nature.

“He's holding out his hand," Sylva sounded confused.

“Then take his hand, I assure you, you can trust him. He will not harm you."

Sylva knit his brow and held out his hand. Whispers didn't move, he simply kept his hand out for Sylva. The opossum extended his hand out further until his hand rested in the Shark's. The big guy smiled, his wicked teeth somehow showing a much softer side. He brushed his thumb over Sylva's hand before bringing his head down to rub that hand against his cheek. He gave a soft murr, the sound so sweet and deep it made Sylva melt.

“Whispers has a wife and kid on the outside, and he misses them very much." Checkers explained. “So, he just wants to…well…he can show you."

Whispers nodded and leaned into Sylva's ear, his blunt shark muzzle brushing against it. He had rough skin, yet it wasn't painful.

“I want to make love to that pussy of yours," Whisper's voice was deep and husky, soft and pure. It was like a warm blanket and soft down. “Please…I wish to do to what I can't do to my wife…please…"

“I…I don't understand," Sylva looked back at Checkers.

“He wants to get you off," Checkers leaned in and kissed his forehead. “I can't say every time will be like this, but at least this client will want to do what you want to make yourself feel better. Let him remind you what it can be like."

“Please…Reeva…please…" Whispers murred into Sylva's ear.

Sylva didn't need Checkers to spell out that Reeva was Whisper's wife's name. The thought of saying no did occur to him, but this was something that Magnus wanted him to do. If he said no to this, he would really be saying no to Magnus, and…he couldn't do that. Sylva took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Okay, I can do this," Sylva answered.

“Don't worry," Whispers breathed into his ear as he nuzzled it tenderly. “You're safe with me. Always."

It was so soft and tender that Sylva actually believed it.

Whispers tenderly left little kisses, his lips deliberate and soft. He kissed over every bruise on his way down like he was begging for forgiveness on each blemish and scrape. Sylva sighed and slowed his breathing. Whispers massive hands came to grip his thighs, but even that was gentle. He wasn't demanding Sylva obey, but rather asking in the most devout way. Sylva obliged, his legs opening slowly as Whispers made his way down. The shark nuzzled and kissed over his womb a few times.

“This womb…Reeva…it birthed our child…" Whispers breathed into Sylva's stomach. He noticed tears roll down Whisper's cheek. “I love you so much," he sighed, his voice shaking.

“He doesn't tell our secrets," Checkers started. “We don't tell his."

The message was loud and clear. We don't ever say that he cried, especially over his wife, and he will keep us safe. It's mutual protection and relief.

Whispers sighed as he kissed the space just above his womb, his jaw shivering through that exhale. He continued down, but paused at any twitch or movement. His sensitivity to electric fields coming in handy when he could sense the pain and pleasure of his mate. The electrical impulses at this range were still subtle, but he could sense them. He wouldn't continue without knowing it was okay. He wouldn't press onward if he sensed pain.

“Please…lift yourself up for just a moment," Whispers begged. Sylva used his arms and Checkers as leverage to lift himself up. Those massive shark hands came to cradle his ass. They didn't grip or scrape. Those fingers cradled his cheeks with a reverence he had never known except for priests and their idols.

Whispers continued onward, his nose brushing against Sylva's clit, the little nub already hard. Sylva shivered, a mixture of pain and pleasure rattled through him, and Whispers stopped.

“If you don't want me to…" Whispers started.

“No…no I…I think I do…" Sylva's breathing was even and calmed.

“Thank you," Whispers sighed, his hot breath rolling between his vicious teeth and brushing Sylva's clit. Slowly, so slowly, he wrapped his lips around that clit, his electro sensors making it easy for him to move at a pace that wouldn't trigger any pain. Slow and meticulous smacking and kissing sounds echoed off the walls. Sylva gave a gentle moan and Whispers thanked him again.

This wasn't just making love, this was worship. This was a man in awe of what had brought his child into the world. A place to be respected and to prostrate, to pleasure and serve, to stand and protect. In that moment, Sylva had no doubt that this was the thing Whispers honored as his religion. Each tender kiss, every slow swirl of his thick tongue on that clit and over his sensitive folds was his prayer, his moans his praises, his drool his offering. Whispers' tongue lulled out more as he licked over those folds, brushing them with the tender warmth and reverence that Michelangelo had with his brush in the Sistine Chapel.

“Oh…Ahh…" Sylva breathed out, his breath hot and heavy in the stream of that shower and the loving licks of that maw.

“Thank you," Whispers thanked Sylva for his moans and continued to kiss and lick tenderly. He found every sensitive spot, every nerve that was left unbruised and gave it loving attention with every taste bud he had. His hands gripped that ass in its softest spots to keep Sylva's tail off the ground and make him more comfortable. Sylva's tail curled around Whispers' arm and Whispers thanked him with a loving brush of his thumb against his thigh.

“I can feel you getting close," Whispers spoke into that clit, his electro sensors picking up on the building pleasure. “May I?"

Sylva opened his eyes, he had been blinded in the euphoria as pleasure wove its way into him between the pain. It warmed him from the core of his being and brushed over his skin and made his nipples hard as Whispers wrote love notes to his wife on that pussy, spoke poetry with his saliva, and composed symphonies with his lips.

“Y-Yes," Sylva moaned and felt Checkers kiss his neck, his lips just as tender and soft with attention.

Whispers nuzzled that clit, the tip of his nose brushing gently against that sensitive bullet.

“Thank you," he moaned. He wrapped his lips around that clit, he brought his fingers out from under him to glide them over those sensitive folds. There was a brush of pain, but he quickly adjusted how his fingers moved and it melted into the background as he stoked the warmth. He called forth that pleasure like a husband calling his wife home. It beckoned with a growing desire. Sylva didn't even realize that his orgasm was approaching with how much he was feeling between his legs.

It was like a building warmth, a tingling that caused his thighs to twitch as Whispers grew emboldened and faster. His wet smacking lips becoming hungrier, but not in a predatory way. It was very much like a man kneeling before his idol and ready to receive communion. He worshiped those folds, his fingers playing with those sensitive pussy lips while his lips and tongue wrote love letters to home on that clit.

It wasn't a burst or a bang, but rather a lavished bloom. How does one describe an orgasm like that? Those lips brought Sylva to orgasm, his scream of pleasure catching in his throat as his breath hitched. The shark below drank deep of that geyser, relishing his reward for giving that peach his love, that cunny honey better than any chrism blessing him. Sylva felt like he was a bouquet of flowers in bloom, each bud blossoming with a new wave of pleasure, his toes fanning as he was proverbially laid down on a bed of roses.

The pleasure started to subside, the light ache of his muscles having tensed up souring the supreme sweetness of that beautiful sonata that was played with those love strings between his legs. The view of water coming down on him came into clarity as the world came back into view.

“What…what just happened," Sylva moaned, his mind having gone through a factory reset.

Whispers simply murred and kissed his clit, the motion sending another wave through him like the final chord of an orchestra. He pulled away from that peach and got up and whispered in Sylva's ear.

“I won't let anyone harm you Emma…" A tender kiss on his ear sent shivers down his spine. “I promise."

Had Sylva any sense, he would have noticed the two massive fourteen inch cocks between his legs had slimed themselves in their own cum. He had blasted his load all over the tiled floor, unable to control himself as he made love to that peach.

“We still have a few minutes," Checkers said kissing his neck. “Did you want to rest here…a little longer before we have to go?"

Sylva just nodded and the two pulled the opossum into their arms, the water keeping them warm as they cleaned themselves before going back to reality. Checkers may have called in all his chips to get a moment's peace, but there would be other favors he would collect.

It also doesn't hurt when the little opossum prison pussy bitch owes you one.