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Good Boy

Part 1

Sneak Peek

It was Peab's birthday at the frat and their ain't no frat party like a Peab frat party, because a Peab frat party don't quit! That's what the invite said, and it didn't disappoint. The frat house was hoppin', the base thrumming, the booz flowing, and the hash was blazin', but even with the hyped up atmosphere, Elmer was still a little wallflower.

The crossfox was mainly black with orange accents for his ears, a dusting of it on his brow and mottled colors rolling down his sides. The fox's amber eyes were framed by large, wire rim glasses, and focused on the red solo cup in his hands. The foxes black claws tittered and toyed with the plastic as he gazed into his own reflection in the mystery drink's surface. He wore a crop top hoodie with the arms cut off, the fabric floating around his tight form. He didn't have any definition, but he was soft and lean. His booty shorts framed his cute apple bottom and his long luxurious tail curled around his long legs, his toe claws rolling over one another as a nervous tick.

“Oh Elmer, why did you let your sister drag you here," he sighed into his drink. He looked up at the party. Plenty of total studs were rocking out to music and mingling, the place was like the back room at a jock themed runway. Dudes of every size filled the frat from wall to wall, each total studs or beasts of men. Then there was the man of the hour Peab. The English bull terrier was currently leaning against the wall with his arm, looming over Elmer's sister and her boyfriend and giving them both bedroom eyes. She wouldn't shut up about him on the way over, and now Elmer saw why. The dude was a total frat boy knockout. Muscle, jet black hair, purple eyes, a the dude should need a permit to have guns that big. A jock rat of similar size to Peab, was talking over the terrier's shoulder and jabbing his thumb back at the staircase.

The legendary staircase, the steps that lead to the hottest pleasure dean on campus where jocks would take their bitches and rut until they passed out, then come back down and rope more upstairs. At least those were the stories the little fox had heard.

“I'd give anything to be his bitch," the fox huffed into his drink as he took a sip.

“Hey," someone said next to the fox.

Elmer half choked on his drink, spitting half of it back into his cup and coughing up the rest.

“Calm down there bud, plenty of booz for tonight, don't need to down it all so fast" the man reassured him with a hand on Elmer's shoulder. It was warm, almost hot, but then another hand came to take his drink from him. It was a quite vicious looking, dark, almost like it was henna dipped, with long, claw like nails. They were almost like onyx blades that glinted red in the party light.

Elmer swiped his mouth with the back of his arm before he turned to face the guy. The fox blinked as he saw Gilles, the legendary party animal himself. The goat's white hair was slicked back, following the motion of his horns as those beautiful rammers curled around his ears. He had a pair of wire rimmed glasses on, the lenses a brilliant purple. The goat's dark muzzle was curved up into a gentle smile, his long goat beard flowing down from his chin. He was tall, lean, and had shallow definition. His abs were graced with a little treasure trail that went down into his torn skinny jeans.

“You okay?" He asked, cocking a brow.

“Fuck, oh yeah, I'm good," the fox chuckled, waiving off the goat's concerns, his tail coiling around his legs as he nervously laughed. “I'm totally okay or whatever. Like, a billion percent good."

“A billion?" Gilles cocked a brow, talking his hand and brushing it against the fox's cheek. “I don't know about that, but we can get there."

Elmer felt frozen to the spot as he looked at Gilles, that hand was hot on his cheek, but those nails were cold, like icy blades. The fox stood there transfixed on that goat, his leather coat the only top he had on besides the various chains, piercings, and rings. The punk goat looked like he should be smoking a dooby while rocking a bass at some strangely mellow punk concert.

“Elmer?" Gilles spoke through a half grin.

“Yeah?" The fox blinked. How did Gilles know his name? Did he black out during their introduction just now? He barely had anything to drink.

“Wanna go upstairs with me, cutie?" Gilles smirked and jabbed his thumb back over to the staircase.

The fox gave a little squeak , his ears folding back, his heart racing as he looked up at the goat and gave a little nod. Gilles simply smiled and leaned into the Fox's ear.

“Good boy," he murred.

Elmer blushed hard as he tried, and failed, to suppress a little giddy yip. Elmer's fur stood on end, his body shivering as those words tickled down his spine.

“Come on cutie, got a lot of fun shit planned for tonight, and I want you to be at the center of it," Gilles turned and motioned over his shoulder for the fox to follow. Elmer didn't need to be told twice.

Elmer thought going up the steps would be a more religious experience, but in reality they were just old creaky boards. They didn't creak or screech for him like they did with the big frat boys that came through. Though, when they did, it echoed through the damn house. For him though, it was more like a little pitter patter.

No, the stairs weren't anything special, but the hall that spread out in both directions was like a series of doors into different kinky dimensions to fuck in. Gilles opened the door of the first one they passed where a massive rhino was plowing some black-cat twink into his mattress, the big guy's gut jostling as he rammed in, torn posters of women and men taped up on the walls in different sexual poses. Dirty clothes and other sports paraphernalia strewn across the floor. Elmer doubted one could walk on the actual floor with how messy it was.

“Hey Duke! Need anything?"

“Hydrate!" The big rhino shouted. Gills reached into his jacket and tossed him a bottled water. The rhino caught it, drank some of it while his twink asked for some. He dumped the other half of the bottle over the cat and he purred like it was cream.

The next door was a series of lava lamps, a bowl blazing in the center while the hot box was a series of magic eye posters, neon lights, and slow methodical fucking. Gilles simply closed the door to keep the smoke in. The next room was similar, only it was lined with bean bags. Elmer's eyes went wide as he noticed who was in it. Peab was fucking his sister in one of the bean bag chairs. He almost didn't make her out. The rat was leaning back in another chair while her boyfriend sucked on his enormous nuts and stroked his cock.

“Yo! Peab! Raul! Need anything?"

“All good Boss," Raul, the rat, shot him a thumbs up.

“Fuck! Could use a light," Peab chuckled, a blunt in the corner of his maw. Gilles kept one hand on his hip as he swaggered into the room.

“Sure thing bud," Gilles murred as he lifted his nails to the tip, the tip blazing up in a purple flame. Elmer didn't see a lighter, but then again, he was more focused on the stud railing his sister and turning green with envy. God he wished that were him.

“Thanks Boss," Peab puffed on the blunt a few times before blowing the smoke to the side. “Who's that cute piece of ass?"

“Don't you worry about that," Gilles was already at the door. “You just enjoy yourselves. Come find me when you're done."

“Got it!" Peab gave a little salute before fluidly transitioning to railing down into Elmer's busty sister beneath him. “You likin' that shit baby? You need a break?"

They didn't see much else as Gilles closed the door, but from what Elmer could hear, they sure as fuck didn't stop.

Then, they reached the end of the hall. The master bedroom. A queen sized bed sat in the center, the headboard framed by a goat skull wreathed in antler horns. Candles illuminated the room, and various shelves and drawers were only half shut, overflowing with clothing, every surface was covered with a mix of incense burners, jewelry, chargers, loose hash, divination tools, or some sort of animal skull. The floor had some clothes scattered about, but it appeared most of the clutter was on the dressers and end tables. Tapestries hung on the walls with eclectic runes and displays of pagan gods.

The room smelled good, the various incenses burning covered up any dirty musk or weed reek, and the wispy smoke gave the room a hazy atmosphere.

Gilles closed the door behind the fox and came over to him, his hooves silently striding over the carpet and rugs rolled out beneath the furniture.

“So this is where the magic happens," Elmer chuckled nervously.

“Oh, how right you are," Gilles wrapped a hand around the back of the fox's neck and cupped the back of his head with the other. “You comfortable?"

“Y-Yes?"

“Elmer," Gilles murred. “Don't lie to me. Are you comfortable?"

“I…I'm a little nervous," the fox admitted.

“Good boy, that's natural," Gilles smiled, his canine teeth glinting in the low candle light. He leaned in until his head was only a hare's breath away from their lips touching. “You ready cutie?"

Elmer swallowed, but then wrapped his arms inside of Gilles' coat, his fingers running over the tall man's lean form, his fingers rolling up the fur on his back and pulling himself closer, their lips pressing against each other's. Gilles smiled into the kiss, his maw parting and Elmer's doing the same.

“Do you smoke?" Gilles asked.

“Y-yeah," Elmer murred. He broke the kiss and blinked, they were sitting on his bed. How long had they been making out? Gilles was just so intoxicating. Elmer glanced over and Gilles was lighting up a blunt. He took a deep drag and pulled the fox back in to make out. Elmer's eyes watered from the smoke, so he just kept them closed as they snowballed that hit. The smoke curled in his mouth and down into his lungs. He moaned as their tongues danced in the haze. The smell of weed filled his senses, his nose stained with the hot aroma as it languidly settled in the folds of his brain and made things fuzzy.

“Fuck," Elmer let out as they broke the kiss, a puff of smoke curling from his lips.

“Want another hit?" Gilles asked.

“Mmm, yeah," Elmer felt his nervous energy falling away, trickling out of him with every kiss and evaporating into the smoke. Their lips pushed against one another and Gilles gave that fox another deep hit. Elmer gave little whimpering murrs as they made out on that bed, the fox's hand running over Gilles' chest and feeling those shallow pecs, the crease between his abs, then that treasure trail. Elmer was feeling braver by the second, his fingers bouncing off the skull belt buckle and sliding down Gilles' leg. He gently squeezed that leg and then kept going down, he felt a ring where a band was placed around his thigh, but kept going and then found the knee.

Elmer blinked, his amber eyes framed with pink. That's not how a knee goes. It curved up into a blunt…

“Holy shit," Elmer gasped, putting a hand up to his muzzle as he realized it wasn't Gilles' leg he was stroking. The fat, bitch destroying member of a cock rolled down Gilles' thigh, glimpses of the mottled horse cock were straining the tears in his jeans, the knee hole exposed that fat head.

“Yeah, cute guys have that effect on me," Gilles bounced his brows.

“It's just…I thought it was your leg," Elmer sighed. The world was lagging behind a bit as he slipped down to the floor. Gilles smirked, undoing his belt, the buckle jingling as he sat on his bed, the cute little fox kneeling before him, his cute, tight bottom resting on his own foot paws as he ran his hands up and down Gilles' thighs.

“I get that a lot," Gilles had a cocky grin, his sharp fangs glinting as he pulled his pants down. Elmer helped him peel them off, dragging them down to the goat's ankles, just above his hooves. A foot and a half of cock flopped forward, those massive nuts like a duo of papayas hanging off a log of unholy horse meat.

“Oh fuck," Elmer breathed as the thing smacked his shoulder, he had to back up to get face to face with that meat bus. That flared horse tip greeted him, the piss slit oozing clear pre.

“Go on," Gilles gripped the base of his dick with one hand and took a drag of the blunt with the other.

Elmer felt like this was moving fast, but never in his life had he ever thought something this big would be within reach. This was the shit porn stars dreamed of, and it was all his to play with. He leaned forward, opening his petite maw as far as he could, and lulled his tongue over that cock tip. The flavor was instantaneous, a salty musk that permeated his senses and mixed with the incense and weed already curling inside his skull.

“Fuck, that's nice," Gilles pulled a hoof out of his pants and spread them, the skinny jeans still stuck around one of his legs as he spread those thighs to give the fox a good look at the goat's glory. Elmer gripped it, that massive cock couldn't possibly fit, could it?

“Only one way to find out," Gilles smirked from above. Elmer furrowed his brow. Did he say that out loud? He looked up at the goat, his glasses pulled down and the fox swore those purple eyes were glowing.

Elmer felt relaxed, that weed making his head light and his limbs even more so. He gripped that cock and opened his maw as best he could and sucked that dick down. The fat, flared tip sank into his maw and a few inches as he stroked that shaft. The fox's tongue lulled around that massive disk in his maw, slurping over every ridge, crease, and vein. Elmer bobbed, that fat flair locking behind his teeth as he did so and keeping the fox's maw wide and ready.

“Good boy," Gilles murred and used his free hand to gently pluck the fox's glasses off his muzzle an set them to the side. Elmer took that as a sign to do more and pushed himself forward on that dick, that horse cock sinking into his throat as he gulped down on it. His throat muscles squelching and gripping at that cock head as it slipped further and further into him. The fox cupped those balls, each one overflowing his hands as he messaged them, rolled them in his grip as they churned and spat pre deep into his gullet. Elmer could feel every throb of that cock, Gilles' heartbeat was deep in his throat and sinking deeper.

“Yessss," Gilles moaned, his balls rumbling, jostling. Were they heavier?

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