The Stampede
Part 4


Written by Septia.


The harsh studio grade lighting above warmed to illuminate. By now, it was scorching. The luminescent tubing gave off a faint hum, that was three senses accounted for, looking up. I had to shut my eyes often. At times, I saw Lens by my side, getting a close up, adjusting focus. Their voices came as a murmur in the distance. 
	-Sshcth- A tug at the leash. I didn't know how long I had been out for, but it wasn't enough. I was exhausted, both in the painfully aching physical aspect, and… from the afterglow. 
	I straddled up to sit, Leash tugging to make sure I was upright and listening, before he gestured to Boss. 
	Boss wiped his palm off at his side, avoiding dirtying up his shirt, which had escaped spotless thus far. He looked out over at me, wearing a smile upholstering numerous thoughts and emotions, few of which concerned my safety. He turned. “Boys,” he called out, voice boisterous and clean, “Who where wants a fresh tongue bath for their ass?” 
	“Oh, heck yeah.” 
	“I could do with some spring cleaning back at the crack,” Brawn said. 
	The beasters stem up in agreement.
	Boss nods and slowly turns his attention back to me. “How do you see the prospect of lapping our collective buttholes sparkling, hmm, Fag?” 
	Excitement beat in my chest, making me conscious of my strained lungs, another reminder that this was all too real. And I did anyhow, many nights had I spent watching the Stampede or alike made videos, to then bury my face into my pillow, in hopes of dreaming what it was like lodged up against a shredded ass. A shudder coursed through my body, my gaze averted, as I nodded a precautions yes. 
	Boss gave Leash a look. 
	My collar tightened. 
	“Something tells me,” Leash began, then raised his voice, “Everyone here,” then focused back on me, “did not quite catch what you said.” 
	Emphasis lingered on 'said', I bit my lip. Eyes darting around the room, The beasters more spread out, some in the couch, on chairs, or just leaning against the wall. All of them, with one hand busy. My sweat ran cold, mental barriers of decency eroding at the sight of hem all casually fondling with their musky pride. A firm swallow. I opened my mouth. -Wrrrrn- and heard the zooming  whir of the camera. The words caught in my throat. 
	“-Yy-. Yes.” 
	“Aaaho.” 
	“Awwdh.” 
	“Come on.” 
	The beasters collectively vocalized their disappointment. Only ramping up my heartbeat further, what If I wasn't up to their standards after all. 
	Muzzle strode up to me, the clack of his hooves ring like a bell. He squatted and snapped his fingers to get my attention. 
	“That really the best you can muster up? I know you are a fag, a depraved nervous wreck of a whore, but you are a fancy fag, el off, and all this pish-posh education only amounts to 'y-yhyes'?” He mimicked a parody of my voice - high-pitched and squeaky - It drilled a pit in my stomach. 
	Leash tugged my collar. “Make sure you meant it.” 
	Fear and tension brewed to a boil. “I-… want to, perform anilingus o-on all of you.” I could hear Muzzle face palm. 
	“So pathetic it’s almost adorable…” Brawn mumbled. This time, Boss came up to me, bending down, remaining looming as he spoke in a theatrical whisper. 
	“Are you certain you do? We restrict bathroom access in the past 24 hours, all to prepare them for you. Along with the video. However, if they abided by it on the other hoof…”
	“Right-Cheek spoke up. “Also doesn't mean we haven't been bursting off some steamy farts in the meanwhile, what better way to ease some some pressure with a hot burst of steam?” 
	Left-Cheek shifted in the couch, grunted as a faint gurgle rouse from their abdomen, rapidly surmised by a bass heavy -PPPFprrrrrlffflpth- bout of flatulence that rattled their asscheeks like maracas, the drawn out drone of the puttering expulsion echoing along the run down walls, boosting it, so I could hear every wrinkle the smog forced on their furrowed butthole.
	The beasters joined together in a heckling laughing fit, exaggerating with plugging their nostrils or fanning over their faces. 
	“Well, fag? We are waiting.” Boss told me again, taking a step back, awaiting my response.
	I felt nose wrinkle. That certain… aspect, was something I had omitted from my own fantasies, I did dream of getting as close as possible to those well-trained, sculpted bottoms, but getting blasted with farts straight form the butthole, and gagging on its stench… stirred up repulsion in my guts. My expression softened. Though… It would be appropriate for their slut to accept everything those beautiful globes had to offer and, maybe it was different? Boss's filthy ass had been both more, and entirely different from what I had imagined the experience would be like.  I was surprised by my thought patterns… entertaining such a… disgusting act…but, it wasn't guaranteed they were going to expose me to it, and even if so… wasn't it a small price to pay in order to bury myself in their real, actual cracks? My eyes darted between them, imagining my head lodged in Leash's hind, suckling, lapping, cleaning him out, and him just, casually letting one rip at me, expecting me to continue as if nothing happened, or even… for me to enjoy it. My mind felt like a maelstrom, or a drain, all the thoughts I have centered around Stampede, and at the center laid my adoration and lust, even the fringe thoughts of suffering through their gastric exhaust, eventually swirled down into that core of enjoyment. I suppose it was less the act, but the context of it all. I glanced down, my erection wasn't showing any signs of depletion. With my head still angled down, I cleared y throat. 
	“Arhmf, sm. mm. I wI want to eat your asout your assholes.” 
	“D’aaww. Come on.” 
	“Does he just not get it?” 
	“Eh, better than last one…” 
	Getting scathing review in my pleads for eating ass… how pathetic was this? 
	“This is going nowhere, an, painful without hurry,” Boss said with a sigh and gestured to Lens. Leash stepped up, but Boss dismissed him with a wave. Lens knelt in front of me, angling his camera right at my face and zooming in for a close up. -clutch- Just as I felt Boss's clutches grasp around my head, fingers pushing into my temple and cheek, angling my face straight into the camera. 
	Lens gestured to the camera, then patted his lips. In a lower tone, with the emphasized menace in his next words. “Be Descriptive.” 
	My heart beat with fervid excitement. Locked in their grasp, forced to confess, but not just to them any more, but the camera, and anyone who would see ever see this video. Boss's grasp tightened on my head. 
	“Please let me sink my head down your asses and eat your assholes. I wanna polish your crack spotless and wipe it dry with my face, I wanna dig my nose in and smell your gas furnace, and I wanna kiss your buttholes until your buttholes kiss me back.” 
	Lens whistled with an inhale. 
	Leash called out, “Yeah, I didn't quite hear that… did you say you wanted to eat out assholes?” 
	I bit my lip closing my eyes and shuddered before mustering up the words. “Y-yes I wanna taste every speck of your assholes.” Everything felt so intense. I had placed myself in this position before, begging for it, but the roaring emotions and thoughts in me proved more to me than I had imagined yet again… 
	Boss's fingers crawled towards my face, my hair staining on end as he fiddled in one finger after another around my lips, hooked at my cheek, fondling my maw. 
	“Beg…” 
	“Aha, Ih wanna suck yours sewers, please let me lick your stars. Ih'll phaut mah all inta pleasing your assholes aahnd aamahking outh wiff yours mudpits. I waanhg get down on my hands and gorge m-mghyshtlf on your sweaty flankhs.” 
	This proved amusing for the crew, who instead of berated me directly, laughed, chuckling at the fag they made beg for something They were going to do for their own pleasure either way. It squeezed my chest with adrenalin beating through my veins. Then, I saw Lens and Muzzle come closer, turning around, and exposing their cheeks to me. 
	Lens moved back.
	Boss unleashed me. “Let them have it.” 
	I crawl up to them as soon as I was free, first staying close to the floor, gazing upwards. Ahead I saw the four brown hams, jutting out in a delicious curve from the lama's thighs, Muzzle's softer at the touch, trained and yet keeping that seductive layer of plumpness that invited me in, just like my pillow. Leash, on the other hand, was muscular, his rear exemplified the after, whilst Muzzle was the before. His cheeks chiseled, a faint curve on the outward line of his squared hind, layers of brawn forged and maintained sculpted his rump. It jostled in a flex as he noticed me staring. 
	“What is the hold up?” 
	His rear was a weapon if used right, and it had already enthralled me. I rose up, to my knees and pried his cheeks apart, feeling the rigid structure work against me, before I could bury my face inside. I felt my nose slip past the taut embrace, spelunking into the canyon, soon meeting with the butthole, the brim winked at me, flesh tensing and relaxing in gentle throbs. I wedged and forced myself the rest of the way inside, till my tongue met with the pit, swirling and brushing a few curling strokes of saliva over the furrowed texture of the skin which tickled my tongue as I moved in for a kiss. -Shrlrlspths- I sucked my lips against it to match the circumference of the pit’s smooching, suckling in deeper and moving my lips back with a -Smmspwp- pop accentuated by a splatter of drool. I buried myself in again, lapping up the excess spittle and pushing it against the brim, kissing to hold the building pool of drool between my lips and his, when the kiss ended the fluid drooled down his crack, along my chin and drippled onto the floor in a splattering puddle, my suckling smooches and moans laid muffled by the surrounding buns. The others gathered close, I could hear the smacks of their palms jerking along their shafts. The cheeks compressed around me, I felt Leash flexing and shifting it as I slobbered over him, all my vision consumed by his rear and my head bending at its touch. It was a dream coming true. My breathing shifting to a moaning heave as his well toned cheeks kneaded against my head. 
	“What a disgusting freak,” Brawn mumbled, Left-Cheek agreeing. 
	“Just plunging right into his ass without a care for hygiene, bitch just saw me let out that disgusting fart, and he's all over that ass” 
	“Takes a lot of determination, built from a lot of lust, a real passionate lil love bug, for his desires to fully outclass common sense,” Brawn replied, scoffing. 
	“Could also be that fags, likes flies, are just drawn to dung.” 
	Brawn nodded. “Could be.” 
	I pried myself free of the cheeks, panting heavily and shifting over to Muzzle, my fingers sailing across the smothered cheeks and sinking in gently, only to be stopped by the bulk underneath. 
	“Mfms, about time.” 
	I heard him huff above, and I brushed my cheeks against his ass, grinding myself in to slot inside of the crack. -Ghhrlslstsh- I felt sweat smear against me. The sensation let me pick up on the scent of the seat, and then all of the malodour crashed into me. The crack reeked of a stale caramel and tar brew, a sickly scent crawling up my nostrils, daubing its greasy air throughout my lungs, accentuated by the oozing odour of congealed sweat brewed into a musk I'd expect from an unmaintained locker room. Yet, the embrace of the cheeks, so much gentler than a pillow, inviting me in further, into the domain of stinking grease. I heard what they discussed behind my back, talking down to me so casually, without, without knowing I would hear it… I had come to the point where this fuelled my desires more than anything else; I couldn't devise if that was helpful or inhibiting in the long run, but I just didn't care.
	I ground myself in deeper, feeling his cheeks bump up against my ears, wiggling into the depths and greeting his broad, plush pucker. I curled my tongue around it and wound my way down, feeling the squeaking squeal of my sweat soaked face polishing the cleft of his ass as I slotted down, feeling the air moisten as I reached the perineum, his sack hanging not far away from my nose, I pant, catching my breath before rolling out my tongue, planting it over the stretch of skin between his balls and the end of his cheeks, his trundle felt warm, and my tongue picked up a quiver as I lapped upwards. My tongue swayed out a like a mop, lubricating itself again and again in spittle, drawing up from the lowest reaches of his ass, funnelled up the cleft between the cheeks. -Slfllstsh- Gunked up musk slobbered over my tongue, sweeping up the drove of brine infused sweat as it traversed and bent along the depths o the crack. -Chrhrlslsfh- -Flhshs- I slurped up over his pucker, spreading and lapping my tongue along it, then persevering, journeying up to the tip of where the buns begun to jut out, lapping at the base of his umber tinted tail. Then, I shifted down, lapping and smushing my tongue down the same lubricated path, smushing the sweat as I went along. Passing over the pucker, I felt my tongue pick up droves of the coagulated musk that had pasted off at it, and all at once my taste buds revolted as they were tainted with the raw, concentrated sensation of salt.
	“Pfhaha, ofutusk phafa.” I coughed out into his ass, feeling the cheeks rattle around me, and laughter brewing outside. 
	Lens whistled his approval, shifting closer for a good look at my face buried down Muzzle's ass, making the globes rattle with my coughs. Muzzle held his hand ready at the back of my head, to screw me back in if I went for a breath. Though, I didn't leave. Only dragging myself down the same path again, pelting a road of spittle with more slurps and licks, shifting back down to his grundle, with long, slurping smooches. I planted my tongue down and moved up again in one, single, moaning stroke. I felt the salt absorbed into my taste buds, infusing me with the crystallised ore fermented from his taint and sweat mines. I kept coughing, yet kept up the path, slobbering in the bundling clutches of the asscheeks, up to swirl and smack my lips over his butthole, gyrating my lips along its rim and massaging it with kisses of taut suction -Shhhwpwp-. I dragged myself up and down along the path, I lost count how many times, only feeling the ripples and tugs of the rear, the taste of drooling brine, the uncouth star of the ass as I cleavedwith my head, swiping up and down along it as if on tracks, swaying along the crest from the grundle to the base of his tail. 



Once I pulled my face free of the cheeks I felt the sticky hold of drool and musk prying off of me, -Cwhllrshts- ripping free like two strips of velcro and out into the refreshing air. Of which I only needed one breath before I tumbled and dove into Leash's rump again -Smsmtch- The buns of steel smacking into my own cheeks with a swat of a well forced slap, which left my heart leaping in my chest. I slapped myself with an ass. 
	“Ooh, easy there yo corpulent slut,” Leash huffed above, prying a hold of one of his cheeks aside for me to slot in, and then grinding it back over my face as I smushed inside. The pummelling urging me on even more. 
	I wedged deeper, feeling the presence of the pit in front of me. Having huffed Muzzle's crack for so long one whiff of Leash gave me the distinct scent of dry maple - left to fester in a sock. My mind coloring in all the strange and filthy scents with what it could, relate to, a method of coping? Or were I showing the first sings of addiction perhaps… I grab a hold of Leash's cheeks. desire ruling me, my tongue rolling out straight from my mouth, as I pierced his butthole with it. -Sfhfsltlptsh- With a sound of fisting a bog I bobbed my head into the depths of his crack, tongue sneaking through the brim, squeezed by the pinching pit, but dragging and thrusting through it along my eager pace. 
	“Mmgms, aw skies and earth…” Leash huffed out above, “This faggot is going mammf, don't…” 
	I halted, shuddering, with my tongue locked deep into his rear. I felt the pucker yawn around me, then clenching, pinching its rugose flesh into my slender saliva brush. Feeling it massage me, and getting a sense of the rotten humidity cooped up in his rear. Had I gone too far, was this, considered an act of dominance? Then I felt a familiar tug at my leash, towards the rear…? 
	“I cannot seem to recall telling you to stop, faggot,” berated. 
	With renewed joy I swirled my tongue down his butthole, lapping and bobbing my head to shove a stiff tongue inside and slump it to curl and slobber about the insides, grinding my taste buds against the filled reaches of his pit. 
	“What was that about?” Right-Cheek wondered. 
	Leash smirked. “Fag went ahead for an unprompted french kiss.” 
	Right-Cheek scoffed, chuckled, then laughed, “What a nasty slut, can't believe it.” 
	I huffed and pried myself from the rear, long tethers of drool stretching from my tongue back to the realms of the cheeks. My lips smeared with a lipstick of grease. I Gasped and pounced back on Muzzle's brown ass, shoving myself in to service his asshole, planting my whole mouth around it and breathing hot air to steam up his crack. I Shifted between the two, the switching becoming part of a rhythm: slurping, kissing, lapping, diving into the next. My face red from the heat, flustered with the fact that I kept smacking myself into their rears with such force. In between shifting cheeks, I was certain the jerking claps I heard were growing more frequent.


“Some of us still got nasty assholes around here,” Brawn claimed and stepped up, smacking his broad hind, “or does this slut only work on clean pits?” 
	I pulled myself free, taking a few breaths with my head arched back. I slumped over towards Brawn's ass, grinding my nose up to his hind. It reminded me of Leash's rear. Taut, muscles on display, a chiselled firmness, though there was much more of it. With Brawn being of a broader build, I could feel the layers of muscles bending against me as I slipped in between them, giving the sense of wedging myself between two mattresses. 
	“Mmf, handle my dick as well, I'd prefer your palms jerking my shaft than pinching my ass.” 
	As instructed I let my arms roam to his front, hugging myself in tight into the confines of the rump. I panted into the crack and felt its must soaking into me; the faint scent of rubber infused with the concentrated sea brine. His brim was thick, wide, so I could just barely cover it with my tongue, making me feel even smaller while I plastered it with drool, fingers brushing up along his fat dick an and slowly pumping in a cupped hold while I smothered his butthole in lapping kisses. I clutch and worked Brawn's shaft, fingers trailing over it in my tugs while I bump the plush brim with my lips, suckling in, drool leaking down his crevice, with the spittle draining down the gorge of his tight glutes and dropping out over my chest. I got tactile feedback when I did a good job, feeling the tension and throbs of his shaft, beginning to adapt to swirling into slower circles with my tongue over his rear, eliciting some restrained coos from the buffalo above. 
	“Time for some close up action for the camera, give me your best side,” Lens said as he stepped up, cock in hand. 
	“The side where he's gargling cock?” Right-Cheek wondered. 
	“The very same.” 
	I wriggled free from Brawn's ass, huffing and blowing out air, my lungs somehow roomier than they were before. Without skipping a beat of thrusting Brawn's shaft. I lean in to funnel Lens's warm, gray tip to my lips, lapping over the head in the same swirls I applied to Brawn's butthole. I shuffled in to close my lips around the head, rubbing and grinding my lips against it and drawing my face back to slide over them and the humid atmosphere of my mouth over his dick. -Sslsssphwhap- Smacking free from the mast and dipping down again, taking the shaft further. 
	“Mnfg, sweet job, Fag," Lens huffed out, his tone remaining a low chilled air to it. 
	“You look all the more paathetic from this angle, props for that, thought you were at rock bottom already.” 
	The nonchalance gripped me, and made me ponder if this was part of the demeaning taunting, or if he just… was honest. I pulled off of his shaft, plugging my head back down into Brawn's crack. I dove down and felt the reaches of his cheeks bend and warp over me, smearing previous drool intermixed with grease over me, my tongue working to mix it together with the sweat from Lens. I smacked smooches over his cheeks and worked my way into the pucker, tonguing his fart box and keeping up the massaging jerk with one hand, reaching out and pumping Lens with the other one. 
	I swapped a few more times. Diving on dick or amassing ass, little vines of spittle forming between Brawn and Lens, ripping to droop quickly to the floor, but new ones forming when swapped around. I heared the whirring of the camera zooming in on different shots, catching angles of me doing my best to eat ass and cock at the same time. 
	“Mmfs, hand is not quite fulfilling the job any more,” Brawn huffed and crammed his palm down on my head, forcing me downwards, grinding sweat over my face as I slipped down the crack, seeing his balls hanging in front of me. “Just get tomgms,-.” 
	I didn't let him finish, only hearing him scoffing and huffing as I smacked into his balls, suckling in one and lapping the towards the other. I managed to stuff one into my cheek so it warped around the musky orb, lapping at the free hanging testicle while suckling the other clean. “Bastard didn't let me finish, he is catching on quickly,” Brawn mused, pushing his shaft down towards me, sending the back of the mast to bump into my nose, my tongue shifted to curl up at it, suckling the ball clean until -Sppsltsh- I popped like a cork, sliding it out of my maw, the sound accentuated by the rest of my mouth being open. I engrossed myself in the shaft, feeling trickling musk and sweat smeared along the bottom, swept and swabbed up my personal collapsing form, his grundle to his sack and along the jacked mast. I followed the previous patterns, but this time starting form the bent tip, lapping and slurping up the cock, balls, perineum, and curving along his crack, trailing a smooth coat of drool along that drippled and rained down in my wake, till I reached the end of his tail.


“Fmmfms, heck seeing him go at it that much, just wanna choke this slut out with my cock, ramp it till he feels my tip dip into his stomach.” 
	“That one only seems appropriate, he has been indulging himself on desert for quite a while, and yet he hasn't finished our meats yet,” Boss reasoned, the others rousing up in an agreeable chuckle. Brawn tugged me free of his as, fingers clamped at the back of my head, hoisting me up and then folding me under his arm. 
	“Mmafah,” I cried out ,the hole whipped in front of me and then bobbing back and forth as he carried me to towards the couch. I realised this was the highest I had been for a good while now. He hefted me into the couch, the legs screeching as the impact pushed it back. I scrambled to get my bearings, but his palms guided me onto my back, head going toward the crescent armrest and then past it, letting my head hang over the edge. 
	“Mmf, you look like garbage,” Right-Cheek snickered as he stomped above me, seeing him fish out his cock, sprouting an erection he dutifully nursed, “but a dick hole only matters by feeling, so prove your first impression wrong, fag.” He sneered and aimed his tip at my lips. 
	Tossed around, berated, humiliated at every turn… I don't understand how I could handle it, all, but I just wanted so much mo-mmgpg. My train of thought interrupted when his cock rammed in, lacking any subtlety or build up, just, one second at my lips, the next plunged in. “Hmfmrs, oh yeah,” he grunted, and ramped up his thrusts. The pace was steady, violent, but consistently so, as his meat battered down my mouth, clogging my maw with the white, pale gray baton. The shaft stopping before reaching my neck, only dipping in to were I started to groan, he staggered himself on the couch, raising himself and smashing down his cock right down my face, -splstsh- spittle and cock grease mingled and splattered around me, my tongue slobbering and brushing over the pumping slab, attempting to please it to the best of my ability. 
	“Fmfs, that is better, this is the cock you were craving, fm, the one you were beggins so mcuh for,” He huffed out and shoved further, bloating out my cheeks with each thrust, the others gathering closer to see me quiver in the couch with each hump. Boss leaned in from behind the couch, trailing his fingers along my chest as the tailor inspects the quality of a textile. “How about you admit just how much you adore this for the camera?” 
	I peeked up at the boss, then felt my collar tugged, Leash licking his lips. 
	“Something along the lines of… 'My name is Guss, I love gurgling beast cock'.” 
	Right-Cheek kept up the pressure, his throbbing mast plunging into me, as my eyes peered around me to the beasters, for a moment staring right into the camera. 
	“Flths, My mahnat ie ish Guss, Aa dIsh Lovhe g-garlgung beastchshok.” 
	“Mmths clearer, bitch, can't hear you.” Right-Cheek huffed, thrusts slowing, each swing heavy. His balls smacking, bobbing his thrusts. 
	I coughed, groaned and focused to speak in between Thrusts. 
	“My name issh Guhs, and fmss I love Gargling horsfmscock.” 
	Lens stepped to the other end of the couch, zooming in close to my cock busy face. 
	“One more time.” 
	I panted and waited patiently, only letting clear words out, all while alternating suckling and lapping over Right-Cheek's dick. “My name fmmfs, is Gusshgmldlsmf, and I fmfwf, love, Gargling, fmfmsspsl, beas cock.” 
	This pleased them. Boss nodded and stepped back, while the others roused to a mocking, cheerful laughter. I closed my eyes, focusing on the mast hammering into me. It was easier to time it now, matching my breathing to the rams, suckling and able to split my focus better. I wondered if, it was their goal to teach me this, if they cared… Though, I realised, me knowing how to breathing while taking on a rampaging cock, benefited them much more than it benefited me…