The Big Game 4

The team needs me, Coach had no idea how much truth rang out in his little lie. My hand dove into the small box and sifted through the toys until I found one in the shape of a wolf, the skin was a bit looser and the balls were covered in frizzy grays. Compared to the others it was obvious to see that the owner was older. The rest of the team buzzed as my hand slid across them, each jock growing easily excited and starting off a domino chain reaction. Once one became hard, it would rub up against another and elicit a response from that one, and so on. All of them stolen after the football players they belonged to did a pre-game ritual to bring themselves closer together.

Some of them hadn’t been touched in a couple days at this point, the jocks must have been having a hard time containing themselves. Along the outer wall, a small line of cum had dried up throughout the day. I shook my head, it looked like one of the foxes might have been able to get themselves off. A shrunken red furred dick stood out among the rest, the only one that didn’t get hard, it must have been him. I rubbed the cock until it grew hard, its entire length couldn’t have been any longer than the width of my palm. I tested to make sure I could conceal it completely within my fist, squeezing down to give the guy a warning. There were a couple of foxes on the team so I wasn’t quite sure which one this belonged to, but I’d be able to figure it out tomorrow.

For now, I focused my attention back on the older wolf cock. Coach. He lied to me. He wanted me to be the silent and obedient water boy, relaying any and all information about the stolen dicks back to him. He also lied by omission, not letting on that his was among those taken. I held the older cock up by the sac, letting gravity pull the member down and stretching out the skin. He was so loose. I could easily nullify him the same way I had with the bully, Fletch. It wouldn’t be hard to tie a pair of rubber bands around, take a pair of scissors and…

But no, he wasn’t maliciously lying or trying to hurt me in any way. He just wanted my help getting back the teams junk. Although it was strange that he decided to keep the one member I was nice enough to return. I encircled the sac with my thumb and forefinger, pulling down tight on the shaft until the balls were bulging. It would be so simple. His dick grew as I continued to squeeze, letting the blood flow cut off slightly before releasing again. He was enjoying this torture. I ran a claw along one of the balls and laughed as he twitched, his knot beginning to bulge out at the base only causing the weight and pressure on his sac to increase. Coach was a big larger than I had expected, his tip flared open, searching for a hole.

“You look hungry, I know just the thing.” I picked up the small fox dick and squeezed until it became hard again. It was just tiny enough that it might work. With two fingers, I spread Coach’s tip open like a mouth and began to feed the smaller one inside. Both owners knew that something strange was happening. Coach probably just thought that he was being sounded, while the fox probably thought he was getting to fuck some tight hole.  I continued to shove the fox inside the wolf until it looked like Coach was going to split in half. His dick was throbbing so hard, it appeared as though it were trying to vibrate the fox out. The fox on the other hand seemed to be enjoying the status, his balls drawing up tight, just about ready to let loose. I grabbed a rubber band from the night stand and quickly tied it around the two lengthwise. It pulled tight, splitting each of their balls apart and holding them steadfast. They wouldn’t be able to separate until I decided to remove it. 

I walked across the room to return them to the box, stepping over piles of laundry as I went. It wasn’t until I was about to close the box that the idea came to me. I really needed to do laundry. This could be a perfect way to kill two birds with one stone. I picked up a bunch of towels threw them into a laundry basket, with the coach/fox duo cock thrown on top. Both of them were dirtier than my laundry, they could do with a nice rinse cycle.

Into the washing machine they went, I made sure to drop them into the top loader first, loving the metallic clang as four balls hit the bottom. This would teach them to lie and cum without my consent. Forty-five minutes on a rinse cycle, swirling around in hot water. I almost felt bad listening to them hit the wall every so often. There was no way these two would be able to walk tomorrow.

When the wash cycle finished, I reached in and pulled each towel out individually and moved them over to the dryer. The last one unfurled before I could throw it in, a shriveled pair of bright red dicks dropped out together and plopped into the floor. The rubber band holding them together was still in place, water coated fur hiding it from sight. I could have stopped, but a nagging voice in the back of my head told me that it wouldn’t be complete unless it went through the dry cycle.

I held the pair over the dryer and squeezed their balls, wringing out the water a bit from their matted fur, before dropping them in with the rest of the towels. For the first time ever, I was actually enjoying doing my laundry. I could care less about the towels. When the cycle finished, I didn’t even bother folding them, instead just throwing them into the laundry basket. The real prize was at the bottom of this crackerjack box. Red and gray fur stuck straight out from all angles of the two fuzzy but perfectly dry cocks. I pulled them up and out of the machine, the rubber band appeared to have snapped under the intense heat, but somehow the two remained locked together. I gave a small tug on both sets of balls and felt a tear as one popped out of the other, a trail of white cum followed, some of it hardened with the heat while some of it remained milky. Both dicks looked completely defeated, falling limp to my touch. Attempts to rub either of them back to erection only caused them to retreat into their sheaths further. Hopefully this would teach them a lesson. I carried them both back to my room, forgetting the laundry basket, and placed them into a side pouch of my backpack. This was a lot more fun than I ever wanted to admit.

There was just one more thing I had to do before heading to bed. I turned my sights on Fletch’s gelded cock. The tiger had taken a lot of abuse the past couple days, far more than what the coach and fox had just gone through. This torture wouldn’t be enough to keep him from growing hard though, and I had to take every opportunity I could get. Sure enough, the tiger’s rod was on top of the pile, no sac underneath to weigh it down. Carefully utilizing a few of his black spots, I jabbed my needle into his stiff member. This time I had the pacing down. I would jab, dip back into the ink, fluff him a bit, wipe away any blood, and then jab him again. Lather, rinse, repeat. The results were fantastic, the way the green ink blended with the pink, contrasting just enough to make the word pop out along the shaft.

There was no denying it now. This shaft will always be the property of “Runt.” My name looked good on the guy’s dick. Part of me wanted to take a picture of it and send it to the poor tiger, but that would ruin everything. I couldn’t let them know that it was me that took them, not yet at least. I wiped away the small beads of blood that were pushed out as the cock went flat again. I leaned back and admired my handiwork, giving the tip a soft lick, I placed it under my head as a pillow.