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Possum Prison Pussy

Part 7: Youth is Wasted on the Hung

Sneak Peek

Sylva had never felt so full in his life. Not even Magnus could bloat his womb with his nut. Sylva felt like he needed to wrap up with that gut and hold it close to him, a deep need to nest filling his body as he was carried to the showers. He rubbed cum over his distended gut, his belly glazed in hog nut that made him feel warm. He flexed his toes, the gummy piglet batter glazing his own little piggies as he was whisked off in the arms of the man who had thoroughly glazed him in his spunk.

It wasn’t until he was sat down on the ground that he realized where he was. He opened his eyes, the cum on his eyelashes making it difficult to do so. The old green tile of the showers greeted him. There were several men there, all in different states of arousal and shock, though if any of them attempted to get too close, Randy would snort and they backed off.

“R-Randy…” Sylva felt weak and heavy, every movement sloshing that spunk inside of him. He swore he felt it leaking into his fallopian tubes. He knew that wasn’t possible, but still.

“I’m here baby,” Randy smirked. “Called in a couple favors to get you all cleaned up.”

“Cleaned up?” Sylva was exhausted. “What do you mean?”

Sylva didn’t need to think too hard on that question as the shower head above them was turned on, already at the perfect temperature. Sylva had flash backs to when Crux had raped him in the shower, but he had long since stopped caring about that. There wasn’t anything he could do besides snuggle up to Magnus and hopefully get one over on the cocky Zebra…one day…

The possum’s mind was graced by a blooming of pleasure as Randy’s fingers slipped over his gaping folds. A thick sloshing and bubbling glork of thick, chunky pig nut oozed out of Sylva’s cunt as the hog pulled the possum into his lap, his pussy hovering over the drain as the hog fingered his pussy.

“We got to get that nut out of you. I don’t care how many drugs you’ve been taking, we leave that in long enough you’ll be bloated with a littler of piglets.” Randy moaned, his cock pressed between Sylva’s cheeks, grinding between them as he continued to finger and play with that pussy, his forearm gently pressing down on the possum’s bloated belly. Every push, even the slightest amount of pressure caused it to flop out in thick globs.

Sylva moaned, his body feeling still full, but it was like taking a piss after holding it in all day. It was euphoric even though he felt himself emptying. The possum gave a sigh, his face going to nuzzle into Randy’s neck, the boar’s stubble scratching the possum’s whiskers. Randy leaned in, his maw opening as he took Sylva’s mouth with his tongue, making out with the cboy as he continued to play with that pussy, pressing down on that bloated belly and letting it gargle out like some perverted babbling brook.

“Ah! Ha ha ha!” Sylva broke the kiss, his pussy felt sore before from the beating, but this was almost too much too fast. “Stop…stop stop stop…”

Randy slowed his ministrations, his pushing slowing down and the pain ebbing into an aching pleasure. A constant ooze of cum was still coming out of those abused petals , but not nearly as fast. Sylva’s body wanted to hold onto that nut. Hell, HE wanted to hold onto that nut. It was warm, and he swore he could feel the sperm writhing inside his womb looking to take root in an egg that simply wasn’t there. The pain was borne from a need to keep it inside, and his pussy was too weak to clamp up to keep it. So, they stayed there, several men jacking over them as they watched Randy continue to play with that thoroughly used pussy.

“You know with each nut, Magnus will want you to fork over the appropriate amount of dough, and I will be letting him know.” Randy snorted. “So you want to bukkake my whore? You better have the funds for it.”

A couple of the guys stopped stroking and pulled away, but several figures continued to jerk over them, Sylva moaning into Randy’s shoulder as he took to deflating his cum belly again. The hog pressed his forearm down on that gut, the twins Sylva was holding slowly deflated down to a single babe as the water washed the musky glaze from the two. Thick gummy wads of nut were left behind that would take some serious scrubbing to get rid of, but in that moment Sylva felt safe, content, almost free as he nuzzled into Randy, his thick gut pressing into his back and keeping him at an arch as his pussy shot thick globs of hog nut down the drain, clogging it up before it needed to well down other drains nearby.

A warm smack on Sylva’s face and a loud groan alerted him to the first of many clients that he was about to gain for Magnus. A shiver ran down the possum’s spine as he realized they might as well be throwing wads of cash at him like a cheap whore. He bit his lip and gasped as rope after rope of cum smacked his face, his pussy clenching in a shallow orgasm as the fresh warm cum of a half dozen guys glazed his face. They shot their load and left, treating Sylva like a living cum rag before cleaning up and moving on.

This went on for a long time, Sylva was feeling pruned up with how wet he was the whole time, but eventually his baby belly had gone down to a small little bump that was squelching out little globs of nut that Randy was working out with practiced ease. With a nut Randy was capable of, he would have to be custom to working it out as much as he was to working it in.

Just as he thought they were done, Randy started to squeal, his cock that had been hot-dogging his buns throbbed, and he could feel the powerful jet of cum splatter over his thick globes. Sylva wanted to slap him, he was so exhausted he wanted to just curl up and sleep, but this was something else. The thick shots squirted against his tail, gargling up between them and coating his back in warm slick that slowly died off.

“I think that’s our time,” Randy snorted and gently set Sylva down on the ground to let him finish cleaning up.

“Huh?” Sylva’s eyes fluttered. “But…what…where’s my…protection…”

Sylva felt a strong, yet gentle hand take his. He knew that powerful paw by now. It was Whispers.

“I got you,” Whispers said softly. “Do you need help?”

“I…I can’t stand…” Sylva tried to open his eyes, but the water and cum made it almost impossible to see anything. Whispers helped the worn out possum clean himself off before bringing him to his cell to sleep it off. He had never slept so soundly in his time in the prison.

***

“Proud of you Cheeks,” Magnus slapped Sylva on the back during breakfast the next morning. “You not only satisfied your client. You advertised how well your product works under stress, and you got me six more clients to bust in the same session! Toothless can’t help but rave about your sexy silk, got people tripping over themselves to shuck money at me.”

Sylva winced at the massive palm on his back, but leaned into Magnus and murred. It was an act, but he needed the big elephant to think he was enamored with his approval. Checkers taught him that. His tail wrapped around Magnus’s leg and he gave a little cooing chirp of appreciation.

“Quit brown nosin’,” Ears shot from across the table. “Boo!”

“And what have you got for me Carols?” Magnus’s steely gaze fell on the bat, calling him by his real name to get his attention. “Last I heard you’ve been causing problems in my circle. Try not to make yourself more trouble than you’re worth.”

Sylva was looking at Ears, the bat a little huffy, but he had real fear in his eyes.

“I got the location of Law’s next meetin’,” Ears said picking at his scrambled eggs. “I’ll have more intel for you by tonight.”

“Good,” Magnus grunted. Sylva slid his hand over the elephant’s massive thigh, finding the beastly dick he had was chubbed in his scrubs. Sylva gently bounced his fingers over it, stroking the man’s ego as Magnus got the rush from his power trip. Sylva was starting to realize that the elephant ruled with cruelty not just because he could, but because it thrilled him.

Suddenly Sylva felt his wrist gripped under the table. Magnus’s thick hand almost crushed his forearm with his massive meaty fingers. He discreetly moved the hand away from his thigh before gently petting the possum’s back. It was a deliberate show of control that rang loud in Sylva’s mind.

“Save it for your client,” Magnus grunted to his little prison bitch. “I got a huge one on the line for tonight, and I need you on the top of your game. Hey, Ishmael? You secure what I asked?”

Sylva blinked as he looked up at the fox on the table. He was lanky and handsome, but almost unassuming. The possum never thought much of the fox or paid him much mind. He always seemed to be a silent player on the table. When he spoke though Sylva was surprised at how smooth his voice was.

“You got it boss,” Ishmael confirmed. The unassuming fox going from wallflower to suave and demure in no time flat. It was like Sylva was looking at a different person! How did he do that! He went from completely faded in the background to being bright and vibrant, pulling the attention of the full table. “My girl on the outside just so happened to be on her cycle. She was more than willing to send what we needed.”

“Which girl we talking? Eliza? Carmine? Nataly?” Diesel elbowed the fox a few times.

“A gentleman never kisses and tells. Loose lips sink ships as the saying goes,” Ishmael smirked. “Unless boss wants me to spill, of course.”

The fox looked up at Magnus who simply gave a satisfied grunt, dismissing the thought. Then, the fox’s eyes glanced down to meet Sylva’s. Ishmael gave a wink that sent a shiver down the possum’s spine.

“Do that again, and I’ll charge ya,” Magnus had a crooked smirk. Was he joking with Ishmael?

“Then I better wink with both eyes from now on,” Ishmael shrugged. “Either way, you’ll find the package on your bed. Under no circumstances are you to open it in your cell. Only open it once you get to the client. Got that cutie?”

Sylva blushed, his face burning pink.

“Oh, that’s why they call you Cheeks, huh,” Ishmael smiled. “Still, I’m going to need a nod from you.”

Sylva blinked, nodding quickly before looking around the table. Everyone saw, and everyone was stifling sinkers and whispering to one another. It took everything in Sylva not to scowl at that arrogant fox. He was going to glare daggers at him, but when he looked back, Ishmael didn’t look like himself anymore. He looked like the quiet little fox he had always known, shrinking back form the focus. It was almost hard to notice him with how…normal he looked.

The rest of breakfast went by as normal, everyone giving their reports and what not, but Ishmael was now an entirely different beast. The quiet little fox now seemed like a leviathan of a player in this game that Magnus was playing. It was like spotting an owl at roost. Jarring to see such a majestic and deadly creature simply standing still, yet still easy to miss.

Another person, of many, Sylva needed to not cross.

***

Sylva was brought into a room much like Magnus’s. It was a private cell with a bed and personal bath. He was told to wait for his client and to get ready with the provided clothing that Ishmael had procured for him. It wasn’t much clothing for it all to fit in small zip-lock, but he decided it was time to stop questioning the things he was asked and just do them.

Sylva ditched his clothes, opting to have them strewn on the floor leading up to the bed. Magnus said his client wanted to be desired, to feel wanted, and in lieu of rose petals, he would just have to throw down other hints. The naked possum sat down on the bed, his thick cheeks sinking into the mattress as he held the little bag in his hands. He couldn’t quite tell exactly what was in it, but he knew it was black and lacy.

“Here goes nothing,” Sylva sighed and cracked the bag open.

Instantly the room filled with the smell of female musk. It was sweet, it held a tantalizing warmth, and was tinged with something…primal.

“Fuck, that heat is fresh,” Sylva pulled out the clothing. It was a couple of lacy stockings and panties. Each were black as ink, but the panties had a dark stain on the inside where the female had placed her need. There were a few splotches on the soles of the stockings as well.

“Dude must be pretty important if he can afford a custom setting like this.” Sylva shrugged and slipped the panties on, his thick cheeks sucking that lace up and making it look like a thong. He did a quick look in the mirror and smacked his own ass, making it jiggle, the sound of a single thread on those panties popping. “Delicate little things. Maybe he’ll rip them off me.”

Sylva was starting to feel an excitement bubble up inside of him as he rolled the stockings on. He couldn’t tell if the heat pheromones were making him hot and heavy, or if it was just that he was starting to actually like his job, but he didn’t quite care. So long as he was safe from harm and could wait out his sentence, he might as well get railed in the meantime.

There was a timid knock at the door. So soft that Sylva didn’t hear it at first until there was a second knock and a clearing of someone’s throat.

“A-Are you ready in there?”

Sylva furrowed his brow. He knew that voice, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Just a second,” Sylva sang as he laid back on the bed, making sure the first thing the guy would see as he slipped in would be the stockings. “Okay, come in!”

Sylva waited for a moment, so long he thought the man may not have heard him, but then the door opened. Silva smirked and started by running one foot up along his shin, accentuating his long legs and wide hips.

“Oh my, you are quite the vision,” the man announced as he came in. He took off his guard uniform’s cap, showing he worked at the prison. His dark hair was slicked back in a fairly young fashion, but the salt and pepper hue gave away his age. His black fur was covered in white stripes and markings, his eyes black as coal yet soft.

That’s where Sylva recognized him from! He was the badger that had processed him when he first arrived. He never got a good look at the guy from behind the glass because he was sitting down, but now he could take it all in. He was fit, but not overly so. His age had caused his muscles to soften with a layer of fat, but somehow that extra heft made him look beefier. He wasn’t as tall as Crux, but he wasn’t short either. That happy medium between tall and towering. He had a scruffy beard that was graying more in the front than on the sides.

“Hey there big guy,” Sylva smiled. “Been a while.”

“You remember me?” The badger gave a little half chuckle. “Glad I left a good enough impression.”

“How could I forget,” Sylva cocked his head. “You were the first one to process me when I got here.”

“And look how you’ve grown,” the badger’s beard shifted into a light smirk. “Told ya they’d love you in the pen.”

“I’m doing well for myself,” Sylva shrugged. “So, what is it that you wanted big guy?”

“Now, I don’t normally do stuff like this,” he confessed, tossing his hat onto the ground next to the door and walking over, his work shoes thudding against the cement flooring. “But I couldn’t help but think about you since the day you passed through those doors. Such a waste of youth.”

The badger sat down next to Sylva, the mattress bowing towards him and causing Sylva to lean over. Sylva decided to go with it and lean his head on the man’s shoulder, putting a hand on his thigh.

“And what would you have me do about that?” Sylva sighed.

“You youngin’s always wasting the youth you’ve been blessed with on stupid shit,” the badger sighed. “I envy the fact you can waste your time in prison, do stupid shit to get yourself locked in here and still have a semblance of a future when you get out. I spent my life on the straight-and-narrow, got me a wife and a couple of kids and going to be a granddad by the end of the year, but what will I have when it’s all over? More Christmases with the kids and the new ankle-biters? A lambo? Not very excitin if you ask me. So now, I’m going to reclaim some of that time I spent on the right path that ain’t got me nothing but the bare minimum. I want you to make me feel young again.”

“Young again?” Sylva cocked a brow, his delicate fingers rolling over the badger’s thigh. “How do you want me to do that for you?”

“You know,” the badger was chewing on his thoughts before he spat them out. “Call me a young stud and stuff. I mean, you’ve already done half the work with that heat. Best rolls in the sack with my wife were when she was on her cycle! Nothing beats breeding a nice sweet heat.”

Sylva could feel the frustration coming off of the badger. He knew how hard it could be to find the right words to describe your personal misery. Magnus had already taught him how to handle male frustration though. Stroke their ego.

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