Mugs’ Birthday
for Mugs from Charn

“Yeah, thanks” Mugs said, slamming the door behind him with his neighbor’s cheerfully smiling muzzle shining brightly on the other side. “Mother fucker.”

He clenched his fist, realizing only afterwards that he was still holding it. The burly panda glanced at the festive, ruptured cards and letters. All bright pastel pink or salmon orange or lemon frosting yellow, and all of them dropped in the trashcan. 

One more. One more incantation, and he would flip his friggin’ lid. Blood on the walls. Mayhem. Destruction. 

He should clean the dishes, or take out the trash or some shit, but Fuck That. This panda was tired. He pushed open the door to his room, and blinked at what he found there. 

A stallion. On his bed. Broad and mahogony colored, thick muscles capped with a short thick pelt. Tied down, too, his legs and arms tied to the four corners. 

On his fucking bed.

“Who the fuck are you!?” he growled, walking into the room. There was no response. The horse was not gagged, or blindfolded - or unconscious. He laid there, tied down, just smirking at the big pands. A glimmer of red ribbon caught his eye. There, tied to a hoof, was a little note. He ripped it off, ripping it open.

“Yours - for the night. I’ll claim him in the morning. Try not to be too gentle.”

Mugs crushed the note into a ball, tossing it behind him, and then climbed onto his bed. “Oh, I see. Ha ha. Happy Birthday, Mugs, here’s a big stud for you to play with. That it? You’re a present?”

The horse didn’t respond, though his ears perked forward, his eyes following the big bear as he pushed up between the horse’s thighs.

Mugs reached for, wrapping one thick-clawed paw around the horse’s nuts. He had a nice set, tightly wrapped, bulging out just between those thighs. They were warm.  He squeezed.

The horse’s legs twitched, clenching to try and pull closer to protect himself. Then, relaxing, spreading wider. The horse’s sheath shifted, lolling from one thigh over to the other, as if rousing.

“I hate my birthday. I hate all the fake congratulations, the cheap sentiment that’s forgotten twenty seconds after it’s been given out.” The panda twisted his paw, twisting his handful of horsenuts around.

The horse’s sheath drooped over his balls, a mottled pink and black thickness pushing free to kiss against his wrist. The horse’s eyes had slitted.

“You like this? Fuck you. I’m not here to serve you. Fucking horse.” He gave those nuts a yank, then let them go, rolling off the bed, even as that shaft pushed and extended up into the air, slowly stiffening. Slender, smooth, the tip rounded and spatulate.

Mugs went into the living room, pulling open the door to the closet and pushing his winter coats to the side. Where was - ah yes. Perfect.

He grabbed his contraption, and dragged it, clunking and thunking against his heels, back into the bedroom.

The horse’s eyes widened, which gave Mugs the first glimmer of amusement he’d had all day.

“It’s been a while, since I’ve used this, but I’m sure it still works. I hope so, anyways. For your sake.” Mugs mused, as he plugged the Hobbyman Shop Vac into the wall. It was a little musty, but when he flipped the switch, the engine rattled and caught, a heavy whirring filling the room. He climbed back onto the bed, the hose in one hand, and smirked to the equine. The carpet cleaning attachment was on, and he brought it to the equine’s thigh, pleased at the Thunk of the pelt getting wedged, sucked on by the powerful vacuum.

“Feel that? Yeah. Strong stuff, huh?” He pushed it up, the horse pulling on his arms’ shackles for the first time, eyes following that wide attachment as it pulled and sucked at his pelt. The fur was bent upwards, his pelt looking ragged in the wake of hte vacuum cleaner.

“I just realized, I mean, I could go through a lot of time and trouble to get you off myself. Or. I could suck you off with this.” The attachment nudged under the horse’s testicles, and Mugs pulled the vacuum cleaner away with a thwomp. Carefully, he twisted the attachment free, tossing the head to the side, and then moved closer. 

“Now... if you’re a Good little pony... I’ll make sure not to... Accidentally... let this hose wind up against one of your big ole pony nuts. I’m sure they could handle it, but.. they look a leeeeeddle too thick to fit in this tube. Not comfortably, anyways.

He grinned, taking the horse’s sturdy erection, holding it as he brought the huffing tube close to it. He rolled the side of the hose up along the side of the horse’s tube, and then down the other. “Mmm. It’s going to be a tight fit. Now. Mister Horsey. Here’s how it is going to work.” 

Mugs made sure to get the horse’s attention, locking eyes as he dragged that hose up the horse’s length, that sucking tube allllmost able to latch onto the side of that sensitive sticky flesh. “Are you paying attention?”

The horse nodded - not saying a word - his eyes sharp with lust and wariness.

“I’m going to let this thing suck on you. You’re going to cum. When you’re about to cum, you’re going to tell me. I’m not interested in you - or your pleasure - or how badly you want to get off. The only, the ONLY Thing I’m interested, in this situation, is the cum in your balls, and how I’m going to get it. So when you get close enough that you’re going to cum, you’re going to tell me. And then, you’re not going to cum, until I tell you you can. If you decide to climax into this vacuum cleaner? I”ll leave it on you all night. It’ll probably suck your dick right out of your sheath, if I let it. Do you want that?”

The horse shook his head, vigorously. 

“Good.” Mugs gave that cock a squeeze with the hand still holding it, feeling how hard, how hot it had gotten. “How many loads you think you have in here?”

“I...” the horse cleared his throat, going quite for a little bit. Thinking about something. “Two.” His voice was surprisingly relaxed sounding. That angered the panda.

“Two? I want four.” He snorted, and without another thought, he let that hose grab onto the side of the horse’s cockhead. The broad flare was just - just - a little too wide to fit, and the far side of the broad flare was bent down as the hungry tube slurped that cock in anyways.

It disappeared, slithering through the panda’s fingers, shlooping down the horse’s cock until the medial ring, maybe eight inches down, blocked it. There was still another four inches behind that. Mugs gave a pull on the kinked hose that led back to the vacuum, pulling the hose back just a bit, and then let it go. The hose slurped back down, burying itself against the horse’s groin. Immediately, the vacuum’s pitch rose, chocked as it was with horsemeat.

“I’ll be gone, for about five minutes. I’ll check the reservoir when I get back. If you cum, you’re done. Got it?” The horse nodded.

Mugs went out to the kitchen, and pulled open his freezer, rummaging around for a microwave dinner. Fuck it, he was out. He opned the pantry. Chips. Salsa. He opened the fridge. half a bag. Shredded cheese. That was it. Fine. It would do.

A pan was set up, the oven turned to broil. He tossed the chips and cheese on it, and went back to the other room. The horse was still there, his back arched, the smell of excited male lust rich in the air.  Mugs picked up the canister of the wet vac, and shook it. No sloshing. If the horse had cum, it had been a disappointingly little amount.

He put the canister down, and sat on the bed again. Grabbing the hose, warm with the meat that was being sucked at inside, he flexed one powerful arm. The tube yielded it’s anchoring in the horse’s groin, and the vaccuum’s high pitch dropped a bit. The horse’s head twisted, mouth open, eyes rolling.

“Do you want to cum?” Mugs asked, coldly, pulling it slowly off of the horse’s flesh. His cock looked painfully dry.

“Fuck.. yes... get me off... ugh...” The horse bucked his lean hips upwards, trying to stab into the tube.

The tube was pulled off, the rest of the way, the horse’s cock looking fatter, swollen, pinkish. “Very nice. You can cum.” The panda grabbed that thick stalk, feeling the power he had over the bound stud. 

“With your permission?” the horse asked, teeth gritted as the panda stroked slow and sure along his hot, tacky length.

“Yes. You have ten seconds. One. Two. Three.”

At five, the horse’s cock bucked, and surged in Mugs’ hand. A spasm of gushing fluid burst out from the tip, a shot-gun like blast of sperm shooting roughly upwards and towards the clenching equine’s face. It splattered down, splashing over belly and chest. Mugs was kind enough to siphon it up, jamming the hose against that slimy stickiness, even as the horse spurted more, splashing it against the black tube, against Mugs’ arm. Mugs was still counting, though. At ten, he pulled the hose away, and slid it, still slimy with the horse’s ejaculate, down over that erection. Lubed as it was, it had no problem gulping the whole of the horse’s still spasming cock down, and the horse whinnied, bucking his hips into the air.

“No, no, please, too sensitive!”

“I decide what’s too sensitive. Climax before I get back, and I’ll cut off your balls myself and save Charn the trouble.” Mugs pushed off of the bed and went back to the kitchen. The oven was ready now, and the nachos were pushed in, the door closing behind. He pulled out his phone, ignoring the fifteen new notifications on Facebook, the eighteen text messages, the five emails. He loaded up Tumblr, instead, and while he waited for the chips to roast, he stroked his own fat cock through his pants, and looked at porn. All with the sound of the vacuum whirring in the background.

A minute or two later, the chips were done, steaming. Mugs brought them to the bedroom, and dropped the baking sheet on the bed, between those quivering legs. He approached from the side, this time, and grasping the hose, he fisted it firmly up and down along that sloppy, slippery horse cock. 

“NNNGH!” The equine was obviously in some sort of discomfort, his chest sticky with his seed and frothed with sweat. 

“You gonna cum?”

“I-I can’t-can’t-”

“Yes, you can. I give you permission.” Mugs tossed the tube to the side, and grasped that steaming, slippery shaft with both hands, dragging one paw up, then skimming the other. He milked, upwards, over and over, and in only seven or so strokes, he felt that cock surge, even harder than before, the cap looking sore and puffy. He angled it down, and the warm splurts of horse cum landed on the panda’s nachos, lacing them with blobs of salty cream.

“Good.” The panda murmured, reshlorphing the male’s meat inside hte vacuum tube. The horse whinnied, bucking as the sensations went from rough dry squeezing hands to smooth slick suckling tube. His back arched, and then collapsed onto the bed, exhausted.

“I don’t think I can... on demand... anymore...” the male wheezed, but Mugs had a platter of soggy nachos now. He slurped his fingers clean of the first mouthful, and shrugged. 

“And? You think you get to control when you cum?” he snorted.

The horse had no response, and so the panda enjoyed his dinner in relative silence. The horse only interrupted twice, once to whine and wiggle his hips, and the other to gasp sharply and kick one leg.

“Mm. That was tasty.” The panda tossed the empty nacho platter to the side, and turned back to the equine. “Now let’s have some fun.” He ripped the tube free, with a squeal from the equine and a sputter from the vaccuum, and began to slap the horse’s cock from hand to hand. 

IT was no longer rock hard, now a softer, floppier, rubbery stiffness, the core mostly solid but sheathed in a puffy softness. It was going to be very, very sore in the morning. Mugs grinned to himself, and slid a hand down to those aching nuts. He grasped them, pulling down, the horse’s groin flesh pulling tight, making his cock skin stretch taut around his rubbery organ.

One hand free, he delicately caressed that rubbery twitching shaft with just the tips of his claws. Up, down, caressing along veins, feeling wrinkles and ridges alike. The horse was panting, now, his thighs fleckled with foam. His chest clenched, his hide rippling as if to chase off an annoying fly. Only there were five flies, five sharp panda claws caressing and teasing against that overworked flesh.

“You ever been edged off, horsey?” Mugs wasn’t looking for an answer. He brought two fingers to pinch the underside of the horse’s glans, just along the rim, each claw laying along the thick flesh. He twisted his hand, back and forth, softly stroking his claws against flesh. “It’s triggering every sensation there is to trigger, isn’t it. You want to bolt, you want to orgasm, you want to fuck something, but you can’t do Any of those things, can you?” he stroked a third thick clawtip against that puffy cocktip, right against the cum slit. “You don’t have any control at all. I do. And I’m going to milk you dry.” That tip of his claw dug in - just a little deeper, and then he scraped it out from where it nestled just inside the horse’s urethra.

The horse roared, and warm pudding spilled out, creamily foaming and oozing over the trapped, pinned cockhead. It washed over the broad cap, making those sliding claw tips all the more intense as Mugs squeezed those trapped balls, squeezing every last drop from them. It made Mugs own cock twitch, still trapped in his pants. He could deal with that later.

When the horse was done, the panda stood and wiped his paws off on his hips. He stretched his arms up above his head.

“This has been fun. I think it’s time for me to go to sleep, now, though.”

The horse looked up at him, exhausted, cock twitching half hard against his belly like a dying fish. 

“I thought...” the horse began, then paused. Thoughtful. Panting. “I thought you were going to take four climaxes.”

“Did I?” Mugs snorted, then picked up the tube, and tapped it against the horse’s scrotum. Instantly, one of the orbs slipped inside - it had shrunk considerably with it’s three drainings, and the horse gritted his teeth as it was slurped down and sucked on firmly.

“Oops. Sorry about that.” He snorted, then pulled the tube down, hard. PHOONK! the ball popped, reluctantly, back out from the suction. “Guess I got carried away.” He brought the tube over, and let it haphazardly attach to the middle of the horse’s cock. The shaft bent in half, being folded by the suction pulling it up, and the tip was slowly reeled in, grinding and flexing as it was swallowed by the vacuum cleaner.

“I guess I did say four, but I ran out of ideas, so. I’ll leave you to this.” He patted the vacuum canister, as the horse’s legs started to kick, his arms flexing. “I’m going to go out and get drunk. Oh, don’t be such a crybaby. It’s a twelve gallon tank. If you fill it up, it will automatically shut off. I’m sure a professional call boy like yourself will have NO problem with that.”

He turned the TV in the corner on, and put it on the Nature channel. “Oh, goodie. A documentary about tigers. You really, REALLY should have thought about some things before you agreed to ANY plan involving a tiger. I’ll let you see how a tiger hunts down it’s prey. Maybe it gets you off. I hope so, for your sake.”

Mugs shut the door behind him, snickering and pulling his phone out of his pocket. IT had been a crappy birthday, honestly, but he had had a good dinner, and at least someone else was having a worse night than he was.

Who knows? Maybe tomorrow will bring something new and exciting and better into his life. It was a big, strange universe, after all.