Infiltrators Converted

Story by draconicon on SoFurry

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A bunch of coyotes are forcefully rutted into being gay sluts for a bunch of rhinos.

Commissioned by Happy27

Please note that this is not something I will generally write. I do not enjoy writing people being beaten up or forcibly converted in this way. This is the last story I will be writing with these direct physical beat-up conversion themes.

If you want to get a commission for yourself, keep an eye on my journals and my twitter DraconiconWrite for updates on when I'm open.

If you're interested in supporting me, or just contributing more regularly - and cheaply - than commissions, consider visiting my Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/draconiconlibrary?ty=h for good rewards and better stories.

Enjoy.


Infiltrators Converted

For happy27

By Draconicon

The squad of coyotes were as ready as they could be for the infiltration. The idea was simple: get into the fortress at the top of the cliff, find the rhino commander, and then throw him over the walls. If the long fall didn't kill him, then the other coyotes waiting at the base of the cliff would finish the job, and it would go a long way towards making their determination clear to the soldiers that occupied Fort Calar. As far as Jack was concerned, they had been taken too lightly during the war, and they needed to make their voices heard.

He turned to the rest of his squad. He barely knew their names; the other four - Henry, William, Richard, and Arthur - had been pulled at random from the ranks of the other coyote soldiers, and they had never worked together before. However, they were all light, all on the smaller side, just like him, so that the five of them would be able to climb up without so much risk of breaking their equipment or being detected.

At least, that was the hope. Scaling a sheer cliff, and then going up and over a smooth wall, were not easy things to accomplish. The coyotes had stayed at the bottom of the cliff for a reason, and Fort Calar had stood watch over their plains like the dominating, imposing figure of a stone king for decades.

Today, however, the coyotes would send a message to their long-standing rivals, and Jack would be the one to deliver it.

"Everyone ready?" he asked.

The other four nodded. They shared the same gear as he did: a leather harness for the ropes that they wrapped around their chest, a thick belt, leather armor for chest and leggings, and a sword for each of them. He could tell that William wasn't comfortable with the latter, and imagined that he had been a spearman or bowman rather than a frontline fighter. It didn't matter. If everything went well, none of them would have to fight anyone.

He turned to the cliff, looking at the rope that the scouts had run up the cliff-face, held tight to the stone so that anyone looking down wouldn't have a chance to see it. Even knowing where it was, the moonlight still rendered it all but invisible to his eyes, and he knew that it would take great effort to keep to the rope and not stray along the cliff face.

Jack turned back to his men. They waited for him to take the lead, and he nodded.

"Today, we take down Titus and his fortress. Today, Fort Calar hears the howls of the coyotes, as we take back our pride!"

They smiled, but didn't cheer. He didn't really expect one; they were nervous enough that a simple statement wouldn't do that.

Turning, he grabbed the rope and started climbing. The strain on his arms immediately reminded him of just how sore he was going to be at the end of this, but at least he had a rope. He wasn't doing it by hand, and if he slipped, he had a chance to catch himself.

Good thing, too. Fort Calar was a long, long, long way up.

Jack cursed the scouts as he was hauled along with his men through the front gates of the fort. The rhinos had been waiting for them at the top of the cliff, with two of them - Brutus and Maximus, the second in commands for Titus and the commander's primary muscle - waiting for them at the point where the rope had been hooked. The scouts had been stupid enough to leave it out in the open, and now he and his men were going to pay the price.

The two rhinos towered over him and the other coyotes, nearly three feet of height between the two species. The way that they walked made it clear that they were waiting for any excuse to ram one of the dogs down to the ground and break them completely, and Jack would be willing to bet that the rhinos would do it anyway if they were given permission from their commanding officer. A shudder ran down his spine as he looked back at them.

Both of them were less armored than he and his men were, but that didn't mean shit when the pair of them were that much taller and, more to the point, that much thicker. Their gray skin shone as they walked beneath the moonlight, covered in sweat from head to toe, as if they had been working out, but if that was the case, they didn't show any of the tiredness from it. Their skin almost looked like armor with the muscle that slid and rolled beneath it, and Jack shuddered at the thought of what would happen from a single blow from the pair of them.

They were marched through the front gates of the fortress, walking past the assembled soldiers that staffed the place. There were dozens upon dozens of rhinos, most of them the same size as the two brutes pushing them forward, minus an inch or two. None of them wore anything above the waist, and some of them seemed to be practicing almost in the nude, fighting with dicks hanging out and showing off everything that they had.

As they walked through the practice yard, it was hard not to stare at those rhinos. The fact that they were utterly shameless about their bodies was one thing, but to see the way that they were actively flaunting themselves as the coyotes walked by? He didn't know how to handle that, particularly when rhino dicks that had to start at seven inches soft and just keep getting bigger were thrust in his direction.

They laughed, too. They laughed the whole time that they were aware of the coyotes, as if Jack and his squad were nothing more than a big joke.

That hurt. That hurt more than he thought it would.

As they were shoved out of the practice yard and into the central keep of Fort Calar, Jack wondered if they were being taken to the dungeons or to the commander. Titus, the rhino that everyone knew was in charge of Fort Calar, was said to be a sadist, the sort of opponent that liked to fuck with his men and with those that came against them. Jack had always imagined him as something of a brute, too dumb to actually fight intelligently, but...

Well, they were the prisoners. It was hard to feel cocky when chains were wrapped around his wrists and his arms were pulled behind his back.

They didn't go down, but up, which answered his question, and soon, they were standing before a great wooden door that was marked with the horned head of a rhino in the center. The darker-skinned of the two escorts, Maximus, stepped forward and rapped his fist against the door.

"Enter."

The voice on the other side was deep, like thunder rolling down a mountain. The rhino opened the door, and the five coyotes were pushed through. The pillars of muscle stepped through behind them, blocking any escape.

Standing on the far side of the room was the commander of Fort Calar. No desks or other bits of furniture occupied the chamber; if anything, it seemed dedicated to maps on the wall, and a great map on the floor, painted on to resemble the world that they lived in. Small markers were being cleared away, showing that there had been some sort of strategy going on in here during the earlier part of the evening. And as for Titus himself...

If there was a giant in the world, it had to be the commander. While Brutus and Maximum were nearly eight feet tall, Titus topped them at nine feet, his head nearly brushing the ceiling over them, standing nearly twice their height and looming over them like a great beast, like a monster. His eyes glittered with intelligence, and Jack shivered as he realized just how fucked he and his men were.

"What have we here? Assassins?" Titus asked, chuckling.

"That's what it looked like," Maximus said.

"Idiot dogs that crawled up from the plains."

"We thought that you'd like to take their leader."

"And we could take the rest," Brutus said.

"Heh...my greedy underlings..."

Take them. What did that mean, take them? Jack didn't know, nor did he understand as the three rhinos circled them. The coyotes were supposed to be the predators, but in that moment, they were surrounded by three men that were utterly bigger, stronger, and more powerful than the five of them, completely outclassed in every way.

It didn't help that the room was lined with mirrors too. Between the different maps were mirrors that reflected the rhinos from all sides, showing that their muscles went everywhere, that there wasn't a weak spot on their bodies. Their size, their heft, their massive musculature left Jack shrinking in on himself, feeling more and more worthless and more and more vulnerable with each passing second.

And the rhinos were so cocky that it hurt. While they were clearly enjoying lording over the smaller coyotes, they kept turning to look in the mirrors. He could see the way that they admired themselves far more than they cared about their prisoners. Brutus and Maximus would lift their arms, flex at themselves, and smirk at the sheer power in their limbs. Titus would turn, looking over his shoulder at his own back, and then clench up, showing off the sheer strength that he had built up over the years.

It got to be too much. Jack grabbed for his blade, lunging forward. He had a chance, he thought. Maybe, just maybe, he could cut Titus down before -

Crack.

He went flying backwards, stumbling into William and Arthur, and his blade hit the floor. His cheek ached, the pain from the casual punch blooming into fire on his face. He cradled his cheek as he looked back at the commander.

It had come so fast...so hard...he hadn't even seen that slap. Just how much stronger than them were the rhinos?

"Little bitches need to learn their place," Titus said, chuckling. "Boys? Take the other four. I'll keep this one."

"You got it."

"Come on, dogs. Let's see how long you last when you see how much better rhinos are..."

The four other coyotes were pulled away, but in an odd way, Jack could tell that they weren't fighting it. They were...off. Different.

Something was already happening to them, and he didn't understand it. Nor did he like it.

Titus looked down at him again, and the feeling of inferiority refused to go away. No matter how much he tried to pull on his own coyote pride, no matter how much he tried to stand tall and proud of himself, there was no defying the utter presence of the taller, stronger, more powerful rhino. The commander of the fort chuckled, folding his arms behind him.

"Well, well...you're a bad dog, aren't you?"

"I'm fighting...I'm fighting to take you down."

"And that's what makes you a bad dog."

"There's no good dogs, then."

"Oh, you'd be surprised. They're all good dogs, when they learn."

CRACK!

Another punch, and this one sent him tumbling to the ground. He gasped as he hit the floor, shivering and shaking, canine instincts going mad. The little bitch that all dogs had inside, that little part of them that told them to lower their ears and roll on their backs, to expose and surrender, hit him hard. He fought it, slowly pushing himself back to all fours.

"You're a bad dog."

Another blow, this time a kick. It hit him right in the ribs and sent him rolling sideways, hitting the ground and going all the way to the wall. He gritted his teeth as he hit it, biting his lips, panting.

It wasn't the pain of the blow that made it worse, though. No, no, it was the fact that he couldn't do anything about it. The pain was nothing compared to the humiliation.

He looked up at the rhino. Just like Brutus and Maximus, he didn't wear anything above the waist, but below it, he barely wore anything either. Just a leather flap over his front and back, and -

Oh, no...

He was already undoing the straps, letting the leather fall. Jack tried to look away, not wanting to be confronted with another way that he was less than the rhino in front of him, but something - something that had already been beaten down, and wanted to know just how much worse it was going to get - made him keep looking, instead.

The loincloth fell, and his eyes went wide at the massive rod of flesh that waited on the other side. It had to be at least ten inches long while soft, though it was slowly rising and growing as he stared at it. The sac beneath it would have dwarfed his own on his best day, and the coyote's mouth hung open as the rhino stepped closer and closer, feeling like he was being approached with a blade that would do more than just take his life.

He struggled to get up, but he had barely reached his knees when the rhino stood over him. Their height difference meant that he was still under the other man's balls, staring up at him, his mouth hanging open and -

The reek. The utter, heady reek of balls and cock and fumes that came off of both hit him hard, and he gasped for breath, his eyes going wide. He could barely focus, his head spinning at the raw smell that hit his nostrils.

"You dogs like smelly stuff, right?" Titus asked. "Well, smell this."

And with that, he was dragged in. Nose pressed right against the gray flesh just under the shaft, he had no choice but to breathe in, to taste it. His nose burned at the insane potency of it, made to breathe it in again and again. The powerful muscles of the rhino kept him pinned in place, unable to escape the musky prison no matter how he flailed.

As he screamed inside, something was burning out. His head felt stuffed, clogged with cloth, warm heat running through him. He whimpered, whining like a beaten dog, keeping his mouth tightly closed even as he breathed in one huff after another of that sharp, spicy sort of musk.

Then -

CRACK!

Another blow to the side of his head. He whimpered as he hit the ground, falling under the rhino's feet. The other man stepped on him, and he felt like he was going to break, as if his spine would snap beneath the sole of the commanding officer.

"Bad dogs get beaten. Good dogs...get fucked."

Get beaten or get fucked.

Get beaten or get fucked.

Get beaten or get fucked.

It wasn't much of a choice. In some ways, it wasn't a choice at all. He groaned, trying to shake his head, trying to keep the fear from pushing him down a path that he didn't want. Jack was straight. He had a bitch waiting for when he came back from a successful mission. That wasn't what he was, he wouldn't -

Crack.

Another blow, sending him rolling. He fell on his back, panting, gasping, bruised, aching. He stared up as the rhino came closer, as Titus loomed over him. That half-hard shaft stretched over him, its shadow falling over his face.

"I'll give you a chance to decide what you want, dog. I've worked up a sweat before you got here. I'll let you start licking it up. You do a good job, I'll make sure that you get something slick under your tail before I start fucking you. If you don't..."

The knuckle-cracking was all that he needed to hear to know what his fate would be. The rhino was not above pushing him, beating him, breaking him. He knew for a fact that he would be broken down bit by bit until there was nothing of the old coyote warrior left. There'd be little more than bloody pulp left if he was stupid.

And at the same time...

At the same time, he had to admit that there was something breaking already. Something inside his head, something that knew that he was the inferior bitch compared to the commander standing over him. A little whimper escaped his throat as he dragged himself to all fours, and then to his knees. The rhino pushed his cock down, and said the one word.

"Lick."

And almost without thinking, Jack did as he was told. He leaned in, dragging his tongue along the tip. The taste was salty, and warm. Too warm, too salty, something that he honestly didn't think he'd like as food or flavor, but there was something here that made it...okay. Not great, but okay.

You're not gay...you're not gay...

Gay dogs, bitches, were not what anyone sane wanted to be. They bent over, they took it, they were useless in the eyes of the rest of the pack. They couldn't do what soldiers did, couldn't be what the other females needed. They were nothing but sluts, little toys that could be earned. It wasn't gay to fuck one, but it was gay to be one.

And here he was, being a bitch for the bigger, stronger, muskier, more powerful man standing over him.

Lick, lick, lick. He traveled up the shaft, working from the head to the base, and from there across the sac. He didn't know how long he was supposed to stay there, but as the commander didn't hold him down or force him to continue, he took that as permission and encouragement to keep wandering, to move from one part of the balls to another. He traveled along the legs, feeling the hard muscle under his tongue, and made his way towards the knee.

Then he was pushed back up, and back. He could almost feel where he was being sent to, and he shivered as he realized just what horrors might await him back there.

Are you dirty? Please don't be dirty, please don't be dirty.

The smell was stronger, stronger, strongest at the cheeks as he was pushed further back, as he slid between the rhino's legs and slowly came to a standing position behind him. The height difference - five feet compared to nine - meant that he had to stand and bend forward a bit to actually reach that ass, and it was...it was hard to the touch, thick and firm compared to the softer flesh of shaft and sac.

And most of all, it smelled. Not of shit, thankfully, nothing of that sort of mess and filth, but rather of a spicy, hot, bitter scent, the kind of thing that made it harder to ignore, the sort of thing that made him think that he'd be smothered by it and never be able to find his way back out again. He breathed in, breathed out, unable to stop himself, almost studying it the way that he would have studied the smells in the wild down in the plains.

"Get in there, dog."

"Nnngh..."

"Get in my ass. Show your appreciation for a better man."

A better man...a bigger man...

The dog way was to serve those that were stronger. The pack fell in line behind those that were smart or strong enough to beat their way to the top, and this was no different. He was serving a new alpha.

That was all.

That was all.

He pushed between the cheeks, having to put so much effort into spreading them. The smell of thick sweat and hot spice and bitterness got stronger as he pushed his nose between the muscular rump cheeks, and they squeezed down on his face as he leaned in towards the hole. His mind was gone, his thoughts burned off by the sheer smell that surrounded him, the reeking scent taking him deeper.

He stuck out his tongue and tasted. Spicy, yes, and that bitterness, and that salt. But so much of that sweat, so much of that musk.

Lick.

Lap.

Feeling the hardness of the muscle beneath his tongue, feeling the way that it just bulged out that much harder, feeling the way that it clenched and squeezed around his muzzle. Breathing was hard, thinking was harder as he fell further and further down into the moment. The scent took him, imprisoned him.

Was there anything more to do?

No. Just worship.

Just lick.

Just clean.

Jack dragged his tongue along the rhino's asshole, and then outwards, when he was allowed. The taste was never-ending, the flavor the same everywhere. Yes, it was less bitter elsewhere, but that sweat, that reeking, heady musk was all the more powerful every time he moved from somewhere that was a little clean to somewhere that hadn't been cleaned just yet. He panted as he did as he was told, licking the other male clean, doing everything exactly as he had been told to do it.

Lick.

Lap.

Worship.

Worship the bigger, better man.

Whether out of fear or something else, Jack felt his own boner throbbing in his pants, the throbbing erection getting stiffer with each lick. His face burned in shame as he realized just how far he had fallen, how he was reacting to what he was doing. This was far beyond the behavior of a mere bitch. This was something else.

He dragged his tongue out of the cheeks, circling along the bottom of them, on the curves. On females, this would have made them jiggle. On this man, it did nothing. It just made the muscular cheeks shine, the gray flesh cleaned and worshiped properly.

Titus looked down at him, and Jack looked up. He knew that he was beaten; he could not deny it any longer.

"I...I..."

"Heh, you ready to be a good dog?"

"..."

"Get up here."

The rhino grabbed him, lifting him off his feet by the scruff of his neck. He would have gasped in shock, but he didn't have the air for that. His legs dangled as Titus held him like the giant he was, and then -

Splat.

Right into the rhino's armpits. He gasped, his eyes rolling back as he felt the new scent hit him hard, and he started licking, sucking, doing what he was told once more. It didn't take long for him to sink deep into the rank scent of pit-sweat and more, and he was soon hugging against the rhino's side, holding close as he did what he was supposed to do: lick the other man clean.

#

Time passed, and he wasn't entirely sure what he did during that time, other than lick. Jack was barely conscious of some other things happening, views of the rhino in the mirror. He saw Titus flexing, saw the rhino kissing his muscles, smirking, savoring his own dominance, but there was only so much that he could be aware of as he worshiped the muscles in front of him. They deserved his total attention, his complete devotion.

After all, he was a bitch.

Bitches did what they were told.

Bitches were good.

Good bitches got fucked.

Time passed, and he knew that he had licked every square inch of the rhino's body, giving it the sort of attention that it needed, that it required. He had given it the worship that the godly rhino needed.

Something was wrong with him. He knew that, on some level, well below all the rest of it, well below the part of him that was conscious of what he was doing. Jack had been a soldier, and a soldier was supposed to fight...

But could he really fight someone so much better than him?

No, he was inferior. Inferiors fell in line below their alphas, and the alpha in the room was clearly the rhino. He panted as he was pulled to his feet again, naked. He wasn't sure when he had lost his clothes, but he knew that they had been discarded at some point, well before then.

"Move."

He did as he was told, walking naked through the corridors. The stone floor beneath his feet was hard and cold, particularly compared to being pressed against that gray, muscular body. He almost wanted to push himself back, wanting to bend over and lift his tail right then and there to have that hard, hot body against him again.

He was broken. He knew that, and he felt ashamed, and that only made him that much more eager for it.

Marched through the hallways of Fort Calar, he was eventually led back to the training grounds. Shoved through the doors, he fell to all fours, looking out at the training rhinos...

And at his men.

His men, serving Brutus and Maximus, each giant rhino having two coyotes to serve them. One sucked cock, the other ate ass, and they did it with gusto, their cocks oozing on the ground beneath them. Various rhino soldiers, those that weren't showing off to each other, those that weren't bragging about how much hotter and better they were than the coyotes, were in the process of using them, fucking asses and breaking them open.

His men were shattered.

His squad was lost.

And then, he felt that hot hand against his shoulder, the size and heft of the rhino behind him making it clear what was about to happen to him. He huffed, shivering as he raised his hips slowly, putting himself on display, showing off his ass.

Did Jack think about what he was doing? About the size difference between them? About anything whatsoever that wasn't the utter hunger for being fucked and put in his place as the rhino's bitch?

No. He didn't think of anything else. A bitch didn't need to think of anything else.

He lowered his head to the ground, feeling his tail getting pulled up. He felt that cock, that massive gray cock slipping between his ass cheeks, and he groaned at the weight and the heat of it. His mind was somewhere else, his mouth hanging open, his breath coming in short huffs through the air.

Heat found his hole, and then something much more substantial. His breath caught in his throat as his mouth hung open, feeling his insides stretching out at that first hard thrust. His arms gave out and his head hit the ground, his breath wheezing out from between his teeth as he was filled to the brim. The massive thing had to be somewhere just under his ribs, he swore, and he was surprised not to feel a bulge in his stomach as it bottomed out.

The reminder of his own lesser status was confirmed as he felt those balls bouncing against his own, the little tap, tap of that bigger sac against his pair just hitting him that much harder.

Fuck...fuck...

Titus leaned against him, chuckling.

"I told you before. Bad dogs get beaten. Good dogs get fucked."

Jack whimpered.

"Be thankful you're a fucking good dog."

He felt the first thrust all but empty him out, only for the next to fill him to the brim, and then some. His breath was truly taken from him, and he had no choice but to take the power-fuck that followed.

In, out, in, out, each thrust driving him into the earth, reminding him of what he had become. He was a bitch. Not a soldier, not a warrior, a bitch, a little broken bitch that was nothing but a sweat-rag, a cock-sock, a hole for Titus.

In, out, in, out, each thrust hitting him hard, those muscular hips reminding him of his softness, his weakness. He panted, moaning out loud at the erotic humiliation, at the reminder of his lesser status.

I'm a bitch...

The thought came to him and wouldn't leave. He was a bitch. A bitch. A goddamn fucking bitch, and this was what he needed. An alpha, someone that would break him and use him and shape him into what he was supposed to be.

Metaphorically and physically, as he was fucked, rutted, broken into the ground. His entire upper body hit the earth, and his ass shook, jiggling every time that it was filled again. He moaned out loud, his eyes rolling back as he was fucked harder, harder, harder as the rhino kept going. The sheer girth of that cock was breaking his prostate, or so it felt, making his cock slap against his stomach and spew pre-cum all over the ground.

There were rhinos everywhere. Bigger, superior rhinos, their scent filling the practice yard. The smell of coyote cum was completely buried beneath the smell of their seed and their sweat, and they were making their way to him. He knew that they would want to be served, to be given 'appreciation' the same as Titus had.

He didn't mind. He'd give it. He'd give everything that he was asked to offer his better, and then some.

But until Titus was done -

"AH! AH! AH!"

Jack screamed as the rhino somehow picked up the pace, those muscular hips hammering home even harder than before. His eyes bugged out of their sockets as he finally came, going over the edge as his smaller cock spilled his seed on the practice ground. He felt it spraying over the earth, then over his chest, soaking him and leaving him one hell of a mess.

But the thrusting never stopped. The rutting never stopped from behind, breaking him down, breaking him in. He could feel his asshole stretching, gaping around that thick cock, but it was so big that it never stopped feeling huge, and he hoped that he never stopped being a good, tight bitch for the bigger man.

In, out, in, out, each time getting him that much closer to a second orgasm. It felt so slimy, so wet, and he could almost feel bruises coming out on his ass cheeks, almost like he was being spanked from this power-fuck. Maybe he was. Titus was far from small, after all, and the rhino could easily be hammering in hard enough to leave those kinds of marks.

He gasped, feeling the first little dribbles of pre-cum landing on his face. He looked up to see that the other rhinos had dropped their training to jerk off to the treatment that he was getting. Jack groaned, trying to hide his face, but there was nothing he could do. Humps from behind pushed him forward, and dribbles from above broke him down further.

The rhinos had dropped all pretense at being a proper military unit. They were groping each other, laughing, grinning at the broken coyotes under them. They were showing off to one another, those that had fucked the dogs pulling back to show off stretched, gaping holes, laughing at the weaker canines, flexing to show their own superiority.

There was no winning, some part deep down inside Jack realized. The canines were never going to beat the rhinos. Coyotes were too willing to bow before the better, stronger species, and that meant that they were all but doomed to go through this over and over and over again.

This is where we belong, Jack thought.

There was no more doubt in his mind. This was where they belonged, and this was what made life better for all coyotes. They were meant to be bitches for the rhinos, and -

And that was as far as his thoughts could take him before the power-fucking knocked him back down with another orgasm. He was pulled up and off the ground, Titus's hands on his hips treating him as nothing more than a toy. Jack knew that he was fully exposed, his smaller cock and balls shown off to all the other rhinos. They smirked at him, they laughed at him.

And he loved it.

I am a bitch, he thought. And knew that it was one hundred percent true, and that he would never want to be anything else.

The End

Summary: A bunch of coyotes are forcefully rutted into being gay sluts for a bunch of rhinos.

Tags: M/M, M/M/M, Anal, Rimming, Ass Worship, Sweat, Musk, Size Difference, Rhino, Coyote, Canine, Oral, Licking, Cock Worship, Worship, Gay, Obsessed, Breaking, Orientation Shift, Humiliation,

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