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Possum Prison Pussy

Part 3: Playing the Game

“So why do they call you Checkers?" Sylva asked. The two were sitting at a table in the rec center. It was the most casual place in the prison as far as anyone was concerned, and was clearly Magnus territory. A couple of board games were stacked on a shallow shelf, a few tables and stools, and an old beat up couch with a little TV that showed local channels.

“It's not that exciting really," the Leopard sighed. “I'm good at board games."

“Really?" Sylva furrowed a brow. “I thought it was because of your spots or something."

“To be fair, I think that's why the name stuck," Checkers admitted, his face void of any emotion, but his voice made up for it. He never learned to animate his face, but his voice showed everything that needed to be seen.

“At least you don't have some degrading name, I'd kill for something like that," Sylva crossed his arms and bounced his heel. “I hate the name Cheeks."

“If you hate it, then don't let people know you don't like it," Checkers reached out a hand to take Sylva's, but gripped nothing but air. He set it down on the table and exhaled. “If they sense any weakness, they're going to take advantage of it regardless of who's protecting you. So, my advice is to own the name and hope someone gives you a new one."

Sylva made a point of not taking Checkers hand and sitting back in his chair.

“Yeah, whatever," Sylva didn't like it, but Checkers was right, and he was the closest thing he had to a friend here. He would have to just trust him for now.

“Why don't we settle down with a game? Maybe relax and relieve some stress." Checkers offered.

“I am relaxed," Sylva crossed his arms harder against his chest and refused to look Checkers in the eyes. Not that eye contact ever really mattered to the leopard.

“I'm blind, not numb," Checkers had a sly slant to his voice though his expression stayed blank. “I can feel you tapping your heel from across the table. I can hear you gripping at your scrubs. I bet you've got a little pouty face too."

Sylva froze, his jaw hanging open before he huffed.

“Fuck you," he muttered.

“Come on now Emmanuel. You got to be better at hiding your emotions. I can read you like a book and I'm blind. I'm not saying this to make you mad, but to tell you what you need to survive. So, take a deep breath, and how about we play a game."

Checkers gestured a hand up, Whispers, who was sitting on a stool next to them, noticed and stood. The hulking great white put his hand in Checkers and awaited orders.

“Why don't you bring us the checkers board," the leopard instructed. Whispers gripped his hand twice to let him know he was on it and swaggered off.

“I don't want to play," Sylva huffed, bouncing his heel again, this time deliberately.

“Well I do want to play," Checkers responded. “How about that, mister pouty pants? Is that better than cheeks?"

“I don't have to sit here and take this," Sylva was about to stand when he felt a powerful hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Whispers. The great white leaned down and whispered in Sylva's ear.

“Stay here. It's safe," He then gently placed a board game box on the table and got to work setting it up.

Sylva took a moment to assess what Whispers said. Was he really in that much danger? Somehow those words cut him straight to his core. He didn't want to upset his protection, and he certainly didn't want to be without it. He slumped back into his chair.

“Fine, I'll play," Sylva conceded.

“I had a feeling you would," Checkers voice didn't sound cocky, just knowing. “Not much else to do to pass the time. The library is off limits for now until we get some clearance from Lawrence, so nothing to do but play games and listen to the local news."

Sylva looked back at the leopard and sank deeper into his chair. Whispers was setting up the game board, the pieces a little mismatched as though several checkers sets were pooled together to make one working one. It didn't take long before Sylva had the red on his side and the blacks on the leopard's side.

“Red goes first," Checkers said. “Or do you need a refresher on the rules."

“I know how to play checkers," Sylva sat up and looked at the board and quickly smacked one of the red tokens forward. Whispers leaned into Checker's ear and told him what move was made. The leopard blinked a few times before making his move. The two went back and forth like this for a while, their tokens safe and protected, but Sylva saw something: an opening to take one of the leopard's pieces. He moved forward, expecting Checkers to protect it, but he didn't. He made a different move. Sylva hopped over the one piece and took it.

“So I drew first blood, huh?" Sylva smirked, enjoying the game more than he'd like to admit.

“So it seems," Checkers then hopped the piece Sylva used to take his piece, and hopped another, putting him in the lead. “Though, you'll have to pay more attention to the rest of the board." Checkers smiled as he held the two red tokens between his fingers, showing them off before rolling them between his knuckles and letting them fall to the table with a ceremonious clatter.

Sylva frowned, but took the piece that Checkers just used, evening the score again. The game returned to its stalemate. Both of them protecting their chips as best they could until Sylva saw another opening. This time he could take it and still have time to protect his pieces. Sylva took it and quickly guarded his piece on the next turn.

Sylva started to do a little two step, taking Checker's pieces one at a time and doing shallow trades that still kept him ahead.

“King me," Sylva smiled. Checkers simply put a token on top of the other and moved one of his pieces.

Sylva kept up his offence and Checkers was quickly losing.

“You only got two pieces left Checkers, I smoked you easy." Sylva bragged.

“Uh hu, have you noticed yet?"

“Noticed what?" Sylva looked at the board. No matter what way he swung it, it didn't matter. He was going to win. “You ain't got any moves left."

“It's not my moves that have changed. It's something about yours," Checkers smirked, the smile crooked and practiced, but still genuine. He moved his piece and Sylva paid close attention to his movement as he took that token. He then looked up at Whispers, expecting him to tell Checkers his move…but he didn't.

“Wait…"

“He hasn't been telling me your moves for over half the game," Checkers moved his token over into the only path he had left, leaving him open for the loss.

“Wait…" Sylva had to think for a moment. “If you didn't see…then this isn't a fair game. Did you think you could beat me blindfolded or somethin'?"

“Yes, but that's not the lesson I wanted to teach you," Checkers crossed his arms and put one leg over the other. “I knew where your pieces were the whole time because I anticipated every one of your moves."

“Bullshit, you just lost," Sylva went to move his token to finish the game, but Checkers clicked his tongue.

“My goal wasn't to win," Checkers smiled. “My goal was to lose."

“What…" Sylva put the token back down in the same spot, keeping the game in play. “Why?"

“There ya go! Now you're asking the right questions," Checkers cracked his knuckles and continued his explanation. “Checkers is so much easier to win at then lose. Because of the nature of its forward motion, your opponent is forced to take your pieces if you leave them no other option. Checkers is one of the few games that you can devise a strategy to loose and force your opponent to take it."

“So what's your point?" Sylva narrowed his eyes.

“My point is that we both win this way," Checkers said it like a big reveal.

“No, I win if you lose," Sylva shot back.

“And that's exactly what I wanted you to think," Checkers smiled, his milky eyes having a shallow gleam to them.

“Then…then why did you tell me?" Sylva's head was starting to hurt. “If you wanted to win your stupid game, you shouldn't have told me."

“Exactly," Checkers chuckled. “That last token seems pretty difficult to take now, huh?"

Sylva looked down at the table, his eyes going wide as he realized he didn't want to take the last piece because it would mean that Checkers would win his stupid little game.

“But I didn't know the rules," Sylva shot back.

“You never asked," Checkers chuckled. “I revealed the rules to you because I wanted you to see what you were fighting for. You weren't fighting to win, you were fighting to make sure one of us lost."

Sylva felt a lightbulb go off in his head and then shatter. It was true. His victory meant nothing if he didn't have a loser in the game. How did he get so invested in such a stupid game.

“What's your fucking point?" Sylva growled.

“My point? My point is that we both get to win and you're throwing that away because you realized I can't lose? I took a game with a definitive loser and changed the rules on my end to ensure we both would win. You were aggressive and ruthless just like I thought you would be, and I let you take everything you wanted. The only reason you stopped is because you realized it's what I wanted you to do."

“So what-" Sylva was going to say more, but Checkers cut him off.

“Everyone here is trying to make everyone else lose a game with one winner," Checkers continued. “People like us don't have the luxury of being able to bully people into doing what we want. We can't change the rules of a game that is owned by someone else, but we can change the way we play.

“If you know the kind of game your opponent is playing, nothing says you can't change the rules for yourself. The win conditions of a game are set in the rules, but you are the one playing, and you can play however you like. I'm not trying to make a fool of you, Emmanuel. I'm just showing you that if you're going to lose, you can change the rules of the game so that you win."

“But you still lose the game," Sylva shook his head.

“As far as your opponent would know," Checkers smirked and crossed his arms, his tail flicking back and forth in amusement. “You just don't need to tell them and they'll still think that you lost. Sometimes they just need to think they broke you, to feel big and powerful. But behind it all, you're the one in control."

Sylva felt a cold shiver run up his spine. The way Checkers said “control" shot fear through him. Checkers was scary in his own dark way. Sylva was finally starting to see how the leopard could have ended up in a place like this. Those blind eyes weren't a hindrance to the leopard, but an asset. He had a poker face no one could read unless he wanted you to. The typical mannerisms we pick up on were never forced upon him. There is no telling what was going on behind the leopard's eyes because they weren't a window, but a blank canvas he manipulated in order for you to see what you wanted to see.

“So, shall we play again?" Checkers voice was back to normal. “Or we can play cribbage, or the chess board might be free. Otherwise Trouble and Sorry are a good one too. The more things are left to chance the better your odds of winning."

Sylva was still floored by what Checkers had told him.

If you don't want to lose, change the rules, Sylva thought. That's basically what the dink was saying, right?

“Uhg, just pick one," Sylva threw his hands up. His brain was on fire from thinking too much. He wasn't a mastermind or some dumb shit, but thinking wasn't his thing. “I don't care what we play as long as we play it right."

“Sounds good to me," Checkers lifted his hand and Whispers came over and gripped it. “Bring us Sorry, that'll be a fair game."

“So what you going to teach me with this game?" Sylva rolled his eyes, the expression wasted on Checkers, but his voice held enough of that eye roll's sass that the leopard caught on pretty quick.

“It's a game of chance, not much I can do." Checkers admitted while Whispers swept up the checkers, the game left unfinished. “So, if you wanted a lesson for this game, if you're faced with someone who can clearly beat you, make sure you choose a game that'll even the odds."

Sylva didn't feel like he was in a prison rec room. He felt like he was sitting across some mental kung-fu master in a dojo. A dojo illuminated by fluorescent lighting, but a dojo none the less.

“Also," Checkers continued. “A simple 'sorry daddy' goes a long way in these cells."

“Are…are they really into that kind of thing?" Sylva blushed.

“They like being desired," Checkers didn't shrug, but his voice held that kind of inflection. “If I had a nickel for every man who wanted me to call him daddy in this joint I could buy the damned place."

“So…Magnus sells you out too?" Sylva brushed his arms. “Does…does it get any easier?"

“No," Checkers answered bluntly. “But I've learned to change the game."

“Changed the game?" Sylva let the words sink in. “What do you mean?"

“How do you think I got Magnus to assign Whispers as your first client?"

“That was you?" Sylva's eyes went wide.

“Well, if you ask him he'll say it was his idea. He values you a lot. You have a lot more power here than you think you do Cheeks. Magnus is a powerful playing piece. He just demands obedience."

“Why are you telling me all this?" Sylva was genuinely curious. “I could just tell him and he'd make you pay for it."

“True," Checkers put his hands in his lap. “But he told me to train you. He likes his bitches, and he might like them to play dumb, but he wants you to challenge him in ways that'll make him want you more. He loves the mind games. If you really want to play Magnus' game and have a chance, you better figure out how to navigate as a pawn in his hand. He'll get you to the other edge of the board and make you a fine queen."

“What does that even mean?" Sylva furrowed his brow, but Whispers came back with the game and started setting up the pieces.

“If you play Magnus' game, and you play it the right way, you'll move from being a momentary commodity, to an invaluable asset."

“Wait…I thought I was protected."

“Only while you are still useful to him," Checkers wasn't pulling any punches. “You're here for seven years. Would you put up with an unruly asset all that time? Eventually your usefulness will run its course and the novelty of a pussy boy will wear off."

“Don't try and fuck with me now," Sylva shot back. “I don't need this."

“No, you do," Checkers responded. “You need to think in the long term and start working on making yourself more valuable than just your holes."

“Well what the fuck do you do for him besides being a hole?" Sylva was sniping back, but Checkers smiled.

“Good question," Checkers chuckled. “I'll keep that to myself for now."

“Yo, Checkers the Cheetah!" Someone shouted from behind Sylva. The possum swiveled on his chair to see the massive Rhino from Magnus' breakfast table.

“Speaking of other's usefulness," Checkers smiled. “Yes Diesel? Got today's package?"

“Yeah, right here, sweet cheeks," the rhino named Diesel said as he pulled something from his scrubs and tossed it onto the table.

“Fruit by the Foot?" Sylva cocked a brow as he saw the metallic wrapper and the swirling, goofy lettering of the fruit-snack. “What, do you eat the candy he doesn't want?"

“You didn't tell him?" Diesel chuckled.

“Tell me what?" Sylva looked to the rhino and the leopard.

“Diesel, it's best to not reveal everything to the newbie so quickly," Checkers hand went forward, his fingers brushing against the foil of the snack before adjusting and pulling it into his pants for safe keeping.

“Boss doesn't know if he's going to keep him around?" Diesel smirked. “That can't be right. A sweet piece of ass like that? When do I get my go at Cheek's cheeks?"

“Now if you want," Checkers shrugged. “It's not my place to say when you're paid up."

“Why are you talking about me like I'm not here?" Sylva frowned.

“Quiet kid, the adults are talkin'," Diesel dismissed Sylva's concerns. “So I'm good to call my chip now?"

“I was in the middle of coaching, but as long as you don't break anything, he should be good to go."

“Shit, I can't wait," Diesel smirked and pulled Sylva's chair back, forcing him to yip a little. “Come to daddy, baby girl." Diesel smirked.

Sylva looked up, the rhino was a stacked man, his body thick and powerful. A muscle gut crowned by powerful pecs that caused the hem of his scrubs to ride up and expose a little of that powerful belly. His arms were thick and powerful, covered in black hair. His chest hair so thick it was coming up around the hem of his scrubs. The big guy had really thick fingers and his horns were sharpened and polished. His hair was buzzed and it must have been a few days since his last shave as his stubble was coming in. He was a lot like Magnus in stature, but the bruit was shorter and more widely proportioned than tall. A thick man, a total dad bod if there ever was one. Well, a dad bod of a guy who had no other option but to work out and eat.

Sylva looked over at his newest client, his heart racing as he looked back at Checkers. It was subtle, but Whispers squeezed his hand to alert him that Sylva was looking.

“Sorry we can't finish our game, but just remember what I taught you and you'll be fine. Oh, and Diesel? Be gentle." He warned.

“Yeah, yeah," Diesel nodded, his voice deep and gruff. “I ain't here to break the kid. I'm not going to get my ass chewed out by the boss because I want to bust my nut."

“Good, Magnus already broke him in, and he's still recovering. Be nice."

“Why so protective? You jealous?"

“I get my dick wet plenty," Checkers responded.

“I wasn't saying you were jealous of me. You jealous of Cheeks cuz he gets your favorite client."

“Oh daddy," Checkers leaned in, his elbows on the table as he rested his head on his folded hands. “You only think you're my favorite because I want you to think that."

“Sure," Diesel smirked. “Hope the fresh meat squeals as much as you do when I make his legs quiver."

“Have fun big daddy," Checkers said through pursed lips. “You come back to your regular watering hole when you're ready for a more experienced hand."

“You know I ain't coming around because of your hands," Diesel smirked before turning to Sylva. “Come on kid. I don't bite."

“Um…sure…," Sylva's cheeks burned red as he stood up. Diesel gripped Sylva's ass and the possum gave a little yip of surprise and pain.

“Damn, it's a shame your blind Checkers," Diesel chuckled. “The kid has an ass that's made to be admired. Come along Cheeks, let me show you were the closest safe room is."

“Safe room?" Sylva followed close, his tail wrapping around his waist. He looked back at Whispers who gave him a reassuring nod as he was guided just outside the rec room.

“Yeah, Boss has safe rooms all around the compound. Places that are safe cuz the guards who protect them are paid off, or so deep in our turf that some dipshit trying to get to it would be beaten to a bloody pulp and thrown in solitary if they were dumb enough to try."

Diesel nodded to the guard, a short Dalmatian in uniform. He opened the door and ushered them in quickly. It was a simple supply room that locked from the outside. Iron shelves created several rows in the room for supplies. Mostly cleaning products and other odds and ends. There was even a washer and dryer in the corner next to a slop sink.

“So, how much did Checkers tell ya?" Diesel murred, his powerful hands pulling Sylva close. The possum was pressed against that powerful gut, a keg of power with a healthy layer of fat. Diesel pulled him close and leaned against the door, looking down at him with his warm brown eyes.

“A-About what?" Sylva asked, his ears folding back as he fought against the fear that was welling up inside him.

“Not much apparently," Diesel's thick, calloused fingers brushed Sylva's black hair to the side. It was a tender gesture, but Sylva's skin crawled. This guy had to be twice his age. Some of the stubble on his chin was already turning silver.

“Well…what do you want…" Sylva's eyes darted to meet Diesel's and to the side, trying really hard to maintain eye contact, but his fear kept him from doing so.

“Come on now, Cheeks," Diesel rumbled. “I ain't gunna hurt you. I'm supposed to keep the pain to a minimum."

“Could…could you please not call me that…" Sylva blushed, looking down and to the side. He felt a powerful hand come to his chin and gently guide him to lock his eyes with the rhino's. Those eyes…they were the eyes of a beast that could kill. Deep and powerful. Sylva swore he could smell blood on that hand. But, as gruff as that face was, as hard and steely, it exuded a warmth.

“Well, how about I call you something else? How about I call you my little girl," he smirked, the smile warm and dirty at the same time. How could he embody such a dominant and inviting position at the same time.

“I…I don't know…" Sylva kept his eyes locked with Diesel's, unable to look away, fearing he might set off the beast inside.

“Oh, I felt the way you shuddered there. You like being called a girl, huh? Is that it? You like being a good girl for your big daddy?"

“N-No…" Sylva protested and tried to look away, but was gently corrected by that gruff hand, those thick meaty fingers a gentle reminder that this man could get rough if he wanted.

“No, you love that shit, don't you?" Diesel smirked. “I know you're still green, so I'll be gentle as I can be." He brushed the back of his hand against Sylva's cheek, his gruff knuckles a stark contrast to Sylva's silky fur.

Sylva felt fear boiling inside him, roiling and getting ready to take him over. He was trapped in a room with this man. He was stuck with no way out. He was going to be fucked again, raped, used and abused. He didn't trust that Diesel would be gentle, not forever. There was no way to avoid it, he lost his chance to avoid anything when the judge sentenced him to this hellhole.

So change the game…

Sylva's eyes went wide, tears threatening to sting his eyes, but he bit his cheek to keep them back.

“You'd…you'd do that…for me…d-daddy?" The word felt clunky on his tongue, it sounded almost forced, but Diesel smirked in his approval.

“That's a good girl. Keep that up and I'll treat you like a real daddy would."

Diesel leaned in, his lips pressing against Sylva's. Sylva shuddered in revulsion, not because of the kiss. No, the rhino was a savant. His rough lips pressed against his soft ones, that stubble scratching his chin as their lips smacked. No, he had no qualms with Diesel's kissing, but he had to quash his panic. To survive, he needed to conquer this. He needed to beat this.

He needed to win!

Sylva felt a tear well up and roll down his cheek. He cursed. He couldn't let Diesel see it. He parted his lips and Diesel's tongue accepted. That thick tongue lulled into that mouth. Sylva took a hand and did a slick move that brushed the tear away with his thumb while also bringing his hand up to cup Diesel's cheek. The evidence gone as quickly as that tongue took his muzzle.

Diesel filled Sylva's mouth, drool and the taste of stale cigarettes filled his muzzle. Sylva's spine tingled at the flavor. The last time he got his tobacco fix was when Magnus force fed him his second hand. The thought hurt him deep and triggered his addiction to ache in his depths as another tear threatened to break. Sylva growled, the sound soft and high pitched and was mistaken for a moan as Diesel dug deeper into that muzzle, his tongue causing Sylva to gag.

That was his excuse, he let the tears break over his cheeks as he was gagged by the big daddy's tongue, one hand gripping the small of his back while the other threaded through his hair to keep Sylva close. Diesel pulled his tongue back, their hot breath mixing as their lips parted, but their tongues danced. Sylva's a cute little tongue rimmed and spiraled around Diesel's much larger dark one.

“Fuck, baby girl," Diesel broke the kiss and looked down at Sylva, the tears dismissed as gag induced.

“Oh fuck, daddy," Sylva murred, a sly grin playing across his face. It was strangely easy for him to do that. He lifted one of his legs up, rubbing it against one of Diesel's powerful thighs while his hand relished in the feel of that manly stubble against his paw. Sylva's claws brushed through that stubble, tracing light lines between the thick shadow that was taking his chin.

“That's right, baby girl," Diesel rumbled and grabbed Sylva's ass, lifting him off the ground effortlessly. “That's right, who's your daddy?"

Sylva gave a muffled yip as he was lifted up, his muzzle falling into Diesel's neck. The thick smell of cheap aftershave and salty musk graced his nose as he was lifted up. Sylva felt his pussy twitch, his walls milking on the nonexistent cock. Sylva winced as his aching pussy reacted to the effortless man handling.

“Oh fuck, daddy…" Sylva moaned into Diesel's neck, his hot breath rolling over Diesel's sensitive nape. The little possum decided it was best to play along with the fantasy. He opened his muzzle and let that velvety tongue lull over the stubble on Diesel's jaw, the musky taste of his workout tingling his tongue as that stubble grated against his taste buds.

Sylva was deposited on a high surface and he couldn't help but moan. It was higher than a table, but lower than a shelf, and it was vibrating. The washer, it was the washing machine and it was running.

“That's right, you be a good girl and you'll get to enjoy this too," Diesel rumbled, his lips coming in to kiss and nip at his neck, that powerful horn nuzzling and gliding against Sylva's soft fur. Sylva bit his lip as he tried to hold it together, but the mixture of gentle vibrating pleasure rolling up into his pussy and the stinging pain of his bruised walls made it hard for him to pick a mood. Sylva's legs would splay, quiver in delight and then his toes would curl in pain, fanning and pressing closer to that sculpted gut.

Diesel's hands were getting bolder, rolling around his hips, gripping his ass and pulling him forward. Despite those large hands they still couldn't fully grip that ass, that sweet pound cake welling up between his fingers.

“Such a good girl, I think you deserve a treat," Diesel smirked and slid his hand between Sylva's legs. The possum tried to cross them, pull them together and warn the big rhino, but that powerful gut kept him from doing so.

“Ow! Fuck…"

“I barely even touched ya," Diesel gave an annoyed huff before realization dawned on him. “Oh, you still pretty banged up down there huh?"

“I…"

“Don't worry, kid," Diesel smirked, his thick blunt teeth somehow looking more menacing than Whispers'. “Your pussy ain't my prize."

Diesel gripped Sylva's cheeks again and pulled him from the washer and down onto his feet.

“Turn around, I have a different hole in mind," Diesel rumbled, his eyes holding a dark gleam.

“Oh, daddy," Sylva smiled, his prehensile tail stroking Diesel's leg as he turned around. “Y-You're so good to me," Sylva's cheeks burned, not because of the situation, but of how corny he sounded.

Diesel ate it up.

“Well, when I got a good girl like you being so sweet, I can't help but switch it up for you," Diesel smirked as he pulled down the hem of his scrubs. Diesel's hot meat flopped forward, the half hard member twitching to life as it slapped and stayed on that shelf of ass Sylva was sporting. It had to be at least eight inches and thicker than a tuna can. Fear bloomed in Sylva's chest and he had to focus very hard not to break down in fear from that monster.

“Don't worry sweet cheeks," Diesel smirked and let his scrubs fall down around his feet, the rhino long since abandoning his shoes by the door. “I'll work it in nice and slow. No need for such a frightened face, though I do take the cock shock as a compliment." Diesel bounced his brows at that last comment, his lower horn throbbing larger, thicker, and arching up.

“Y-Y-You'll…be gentle daddy?" Sylva felt his panic ebb a bit, so he decided to put on the coy act, talking over his shoulder.

“I'll be gentle at first," Diesel's rough fingers slipped under the hem of Sylva's scrubs, those thick sausage hands slipping into his boxers. “I can't say I'll be gentle the whole time. I intend to gape that little virgin pucker of yours. I paid a fuck-ton to be the first to tap that ass, but I'm also not stupid enough to gape you into something useless."

“Of course…" Sylva complained under his breath and into his shoulder.

“The fuck did you just say, kid?" Diesel leaned in, his teeth bared as he huffed through his nose like a bull.

“Of course you can't be gentle the whole time, daddy," Sylva perked up, his tail flicking up and curling around Diesel's back. “I can't expect my daddy to hold back when…when there's all this cake here for him to pound."

Diesel gave a sly grin.

“You're exactly right, baby girl," Diesel rumbled and kissed the back of his neck. “But before I pound that fucking gorgeous ass, I'm going to taste that cake."

Diesel pulled down Sylva's scrubs, his boxers with them. Despite the mixed signals, those boxers were soaked. Strands of Sylva's desires connected those bunched boxers to his hotbox. The strands broke and those pants hit the floor. Diesel gave a low murr as he squatted down, his muzzle coming to that ass.

“Fuck, it's beautiful," Diesel wasn't talking to Sylva. In that moment it was just him, those massive cheeks, and that tight pucker. That peach below was bruised and parted slightly, but he didn't care about the boss's sloppy seconds. What he wanted was that tight pucker.

“Thank you daddy," Sylva responded and shook his hips slowly side to side. He couldn't see it, but Diesel's head moved with it, his eyes keeping trained on that delightfully tight pucker.

“Holy shit, you're a real ass virgin, aren't you?"

“Y-Yeah…is that bad…daddy?" Sylva didn't really know what to say, but the formula was the same. He needed to get a win, but he also wasn't used to talking like this.

“It's perfect," Diesel leaned in. Sylva shuddered as his stubble brushed those cheeks, those soft love pillows feeling the rough of a man's jaw for the first time. Diesel pressed a soft kiss against that tight, bright pink ring. It flexed, somehow getting tighter. Sylva struggled to keep his legs open, not used to having someone between there yet.

“Relax baby," Diesel rumbled, his breath tickling that little hole. “You're going to like this."

Diesel never closed his mouth after that, he just huffed his hot breath over that pucker, tickling it and loving the way it clenched and squeezed shut. It was a virgin hole that didn't know the pleasure it feel yet.

He couldn't wait to gape it.

But he held back. He let his lips press against it one more time, Sylva's sweet musk wafted up from his pussy, his body having just been washed it was fresh and clean with the hint of his feminine sex. Diesel never let his lips leave that pucker. He just enjoyed how it twitched over his lips, how even the softest touch caused it to clench and cause Sylva's tail to flick and his legs to shudder.

Diesel parted his thick lips, his tongue lulling out slowly until just the tip traced over the wrinkles of that sensitive ring.

“Oh! Papi!" Sylva gasped as the pleasure shot up his spine, causing him to stand up straight, his tail doing the same. Sylva blushed deeply, his voice slipping into his second language as he was toyed with. That tongue traced light circles, the lightest brush of those taste buds catching on the delicate folds of that tight pucker.

“Oh fu-hu-huck," Sylva groaned, his claws scratching into the washing machine. That's when he noticed his claw marks weren't the only. The possum made the connection immediately. Checkers was bent over this very washer, the gouges much deeper.

Diesel smiled at the vibrations he was sending up the possum, his tongue retracting back in as he huffed out his nose, the cool breath causing Sylva to shiver. Just when the cold reached its peak, that's when Diesel leaned back in, his thick tongue running from taint to tail base. That thick, hot, blunt tongue rolled between those two massive globes of possum ass before focusing in on that pucker.

“Oh fuck, daddy! What are you doing back there-" Sylva's voice caught in his throat as Diesel started his feast. The first little brushes were a taste, but now the rhino's horn was bobbing up and down those cheeks as he buried his tongue against that hole.

That bright pink pucker started to get darker, heating up as Diesel made out with it. His tongue creating thick, tight circles on it before flicking it over, loving how it made his good girl squeal and shiver.

“Good girl," Diesel rumbled, his praise a cute cover-up for the fact he was huffing on that hole again, getting it cold before he moved back in and warmed it with his tongue again. Diesel's dick was rock hard, his ten inch destroyer thicker than a tuna can and throbbing an angry red as it dripped pre onto the floor.

Diesel gripped those cheeks, his fingers digging into the flesh to really get a hold on them as he started to roll them around, pushing them together when he would rim with his entire tongue, pinning his horn deep between those cheeks. Then he would spread them wide when he pulled back to rim that pucker with the tip of his tongue, letting the cool air remind him how good the warmth of that rhino tongue feelt.

Every lick, every calculated grip and kneed of those cheeks, and every smack of those lips against that pucker warmed it and sent shocks up into Sylva.

“Oh, daddy," Sylva murred, his tail rolling down over the back of the big rhino. “Oh you're so good at that-" Sylva gave a shuddering gasp as he felt that tongue flick over something new. Sylva's hole clamped down on the tip of that tongue as it fluttered inside his hole. Diesel's response was to smile, his stubble brushing Sylva's meaty cheeks as he did so.

“Surprised? Didn't think you'd open yourself up enough to let me slip in, did ya baby girl?" Diesel planted a kiss on that wet pucker. The bright pink ring having turned to a heated red now that it was warmed up. “Just relax, yeah, like that."

Diesel leaned in again, his tongue slipping inside that hole, but it resisted. It clamped down around that tongue, but Diesel's species was known for its gritty tongue, but his was simply stronger. His father was a giraffe, so he got the best of both his parents tongues. Strong like a rhino and malleable like a giraffe's. He pressed forward and Sylva couldn't help but moan as that adulating member slipped further and further into him.

Diesel's tongue adulated and wriggled its way in further, deeper. Sylva winced as his pucker was stretched, but he knew this was only the beginning. He saw the monster that intended to gape him open. Diesel's tongue dove deep, sliding out a little before plunging deeper down. Sylva gripped one of his cheeks with his hand while gripping the far end of the washer with his other.

Then Sylva saw stars.

“Ah! Papi! Fuck!" Sylva shuddered, his cunt quivering and dripping down over the washer's face.

Diesel couldn't speak, but his smile scraped Sylva's cheeks. He pressed forward on that spot again. The little bundle of nerves he knew all the other men in the compound had.

A prostate.

Sylva never knew he had one, but it woul account for how hard he could squirt sometimes. He didn't have any other part of the male reproductive system, but in that moment, he wasn't going to question it. A series of pleasured absurdities rolled out of Sylvas mouth, one of his legs popping off the ground, his toes twitching and gripping onto Diesel's thigh as his prostate was milked and flicked by that tentative member. Sylva was basically on his tip toes on one leg as he leaned on the washer and pushed back against Diesel's face.

Suddenly that tongue pulled out. It was slow, not like it snapped out of his ass, but slinked out. Sylva had never felt emptier in his life, but it was quickly replaced by a duo of fingers.

“Fuck," the rhino murred as he brushed two of those massive digits into that hole and played with that hidden clit. “I thought you wouldn't have a prostate, but looks like you've been blessed with two clits, huh."

“Oh fuck," Sylva shuddered and moaned, drool dribbled out of his muzzle as those fingers played with that hole, moving slow at first, but then quickly picking up the pace.

Sylva could tell Diesel was getting impatient. He wasn't as gentle or slow anymore. Apparently he had more of a thing for eating cake than fingering. It didn't take long for him to slip another finger in, the spit making it slick as he played with that sensitive nub.

“Fuck, you're so fucking tight," Diesel moaned as he stood up, his three fingers still playing with Sylva's weakening hole. That pucker was starting to burn with exhaustion and pain as he was forced to take those fingers.

“A-All for…for you daddy," Sylva shuddered out.

“Are you ready for me, baby?" Diesel slipped his fingers out and pressed his cock head against that now puffy pucker. “Cuz daddy is fucking ready for you."

“Are…are you ready to gape that ass?" Sylva responded. He prepared for the intrusion as best he could. He had to put on a strong face.

Diesel didn't need any more encouragement. His iron rod throbbed, a thick wad of pre smacking that pucker and mixing with the slick mess of drool that he had already worked into that hole. The rhino grinned, as he pushed forward, his thick mushroom head glazed in its own need.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck! S-slow down," Sylva tried to say more, but he had to bite his cheek to keep himself from screaming.

“I ain't holding back anymore, Cheeks," Diesel rumbled as he pressed on. Sylva kept his mouth shut, but he screamed, the sound muffled into wet shrieks as his hole was forced to accommodate a fucking two liter of rhino cola!

“Oh fuck…so fucking tight," Diesel rolled his hips back and then thrusted forward hard. Sylva screamed, this time.

“That's right, take that dick," the rhino rumbled, as though he were deaf to Sylva's cries and shouts. Diesel kept this up, his cock rolling back before thrusting forward hard to force the little possum accommodate his massive size. The entire time Sylva had his claws digging into the dash of the washer, his other a fist that beat against the metal lid, denting it.

“That's right, fucking take it! Who's daddy's good little girl?"

“Fuck! I am," Sylva managed to say the words through gritted teeth. “I'm daddy's good little girl!"

“Fuck yeah you are," Diesel pulled back and thrusted forward again, his hips smacking against Sylva's cheeks. Finally he was fully seated in that throbbing hole. That pucker was stretched beyond its limit, a few small breaks trickling blood. Diesel's thick gut hung heavy on the small of Sylva's back, keeping him pinned as the rhino huffed and started his calculated thrusts. They were slow at first, but he soon found a rhythm. The movement was relatively gentle, a sliding of back and forth, that cock shooting thick, slick pre deep into that hole.

Sylva's prostate was crushed into his womb, and then rolled on by that massive dick that was sliding back and forth. Sylva was trying so hard to keep it together that he didn't even notice the thick wads of possum honey he was drooling over the washer, the vibrations of the machine rolling through his body, stimulating that pussy and making that tight hole hum around that bitch breaking cock.

Diesel was grunting as he worked his cock into that hole, the tightness like a vacuum seal. His thick fingers dug into those cheeks, his hard nails digging into that phat ass and leaving marks as he continued his calculated thrusts. Just fast enough to keep him on that path to that peak, but not so fast it would destroy Sylva.

Sylva would have to disagree.

Sylva was clawing his nails into that washer, his fingers gripping so hard onto that dash that a part of the plastic cracked. Diesel might be doing him gently, but to the possum, it was like he was being fisted by a rockslide! Every smack was a literal sucker punch to his kidneys, his asshole tried to clench and get rid of the intruder, but those no-longer-virgin rings were too far forced beyond their limit that their protests were nothing more than scorching twitches to the possum.

Sylva didn't know how long he was there in that rolling pain. It felt like an eternity as he bit his cheek so hard he could taste blood, tears streaming down his face as he kept pushing back. It could have been minutes, hours, or even fucking days, but it was an infinite line of pain.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore he felt that dick throb and get thicker. He knew because he was already too full when he was forced to take more.

“Oh fuck, baby. I'm going to cum…fuck I'm going to fucking nut!"

Sylva took a deep breath, knowing it would soon be over.

“Yes daddy!" he sobbed out. “Breed me!"

Wrong choice of words.

Diesel heard those words and he felt a primal urge to seed. He wanted to nail that ass and gape it for all it was worth. He drew his hips back, his muscles aching to be let off the leash.

And he let go.

Diesel huffed and bleated as he thrusted with abandon. That cock slapped deep into that hole as he rammed as hard and as fast as he could.

“STOP!" Sylva screamed as he sobbed out, his voice breaking as he was slammed deep. Though, much like the rest of his pleas, they fell on deaf ears. If anything Diesel fucked faster, harder, more ruthlessly. The washer rattled back and forth, shaking violently as Diesel shot for that mountaintop.

Sylva on the other hand, felt a burning welling deep inside of him. His prostate was assaulted hard and fast. He couldn't feel it before, but he was getting close, that prostate abused and bullied into forcing him to reach his peak. It was like someone was holding a light switch just between off and on where the pain and pleasure would flicker back and forth so rapidly it was hard to tell what was on and what was off.

Then Diesel came. He thrusted, his iron pipe unloading his spunk.

“YES! FUCKING TEAR THAT ASS! I'M GAPING THAT ASS UP!" Diesel shouted as his balls clenched and his cock throbbed deep. Cum squirted out of that abused pucker, tainted pink with some of Sylva's blood.

Sylva on the other hand was screaming and gasping as he felt his pussy clench painfully squirting so hard it smacked against the hull of that washer as though he were pissing. Diesel kept fucking through his orgasm, his cock dumping his bastards into that abused asshole, his cock bullying that prostate to keep busting.

“Fuck…" Diesel felt like a steam engine that finally released its pent up pressure. “Shit, bet you didn't know that's why the call me Diesel."

Sylva just panted, trying desperately not to sob as his ass ached for relief.

“Cuz when I fuck you, it's like you've been run over by a truck," Diesel gave a cruel chuckle as he slapped Sylva's ass. “Now, what do you say."

Sylva sobbed as that hand smacked his ass.

“Fuck…" Sylva was about to say “Fuck you" but he noticed the claw marks against the washer as his mind flashed to Checkers. “…fuck papi…thank you."

Sylva wasn't very convincing, but Diesel seemed pleased. The rhino pulled out, thick squelching and schlorping filled the room, or at least it would have if Sylva wasn't screaming in pain. He had no idea his ass collapsing in on itself would feel just as bad when it was being fucked. Diesel's cock popped out and that hole tried to close up, but it was gaped. It hung open as cum gargled deep inside before rolling out and down Sylva's legs.

“Good girl," Diesel admired his handiwork one last time before pulling his pants back up. “Clean yourself up in the slop sink and head back to the rec room when you're done."

Sylva stood there, bent over that washer, cursing his birth.

He won his own little game, but he was still a fucking loser.