Surprisingly, Marroc found the darkness and the scattered laughter as welcoming as could be.

It had been several years since Marroc last visited Cave 47, a fairly prominent underground bar in Heidelberg. Even though the wolf was back in Germany on a two-week vacation, he resolved to catch up with his old friends who he hadn’t seen face-to-face in ages. He didn’t recognize the bouncer in the slightest, but that was to be expected. Even still, Marroc couldn’t help but twitch his silver-tipped ears when the burly equine simply nodded and let him by, as if he was a regular.

What welcomed the chubby canine when he entered the front door was nothing but pitch black nothingness. Soon enough there were familiar voices welcoming him, growing all the closer. Marroc could have sworn he recognized each and every one of them, but he couldn’t help but at least be a bit nervous. All those years away in the States have added even more pounds to his rotund frame, and his belly jutted out a bit more than it used to in years past. He still stood at a good height, but his ink-hued fur with slate highlights along his elbows, tailtip, and feet remained obscured in the absence of light.

“Time for a nice ‘Welcome Home’ party for our little boy,” a voice cheered out from across the room. A rousing cheer from dozens of patrons of the bar ensued, mixed with the clattering of glasses from all around.

Before Marroc could reply, he yipped as he was hugged from behind. The burly arms wrapped around the wolf’s upper-arms, close enough to his shoulders, as the figure’s belly pressed prominently against Marroc’s spine. “Everyone knows the rules we went over last night, right? If not, whisper to your neighbor for the scant details.”

“Table 1, you’re up. Tend to the pup and send him along!”

Chair legs scraped against the tile floor as Marroc could sense figures approaching. Despite his eyes trying to focus in the darkness, he could only make out their faint outlines. He could feel the fingers slip around his form, removing his pince-nez glasses before tugging his shirt upwards and off. Others fingers danced around his belt buckle and hips before depriving him of his belt, jeans, and boxers. Finally, Marroc’s spiked collar slipped free from his neck, and he couldn’t help but whine. 

Thankfully, he could feel the cool sensation of leather slip around his neck a few seconds later as he was fitted with a new one. Still, his original collar had sentimental value to him, but the soft thud of clothing meeting a tabletop nearby assured him that everything was going to be kept together and safe.

What he didn’t expect, though, was a prolonged kiss on his cheek. Nor was he expecting a pair of hands to start massaging deep into his right thigh, or the curious hand that traced its way up to Marroc’s balls. The fingers rolled around softly against his benefactor’s supple paw pads, curling inward to slip along his taint. The burly figure behind the wolf lowered his arms a bit more from their hug, taking the time to massage Marroc’s chunky belly.

Just as soon as the random affections began, they slowed to a half. The figures quietly departed, soon to be replaced by another team of mystery admirers. One individual groomed 17 inches of Marroc’s tail. A more curious fellow got on their knees and started to knead along the wolf’s plentiful rump. The excess fat slipped between their fingers, right before they parted the cheeks and graced the canine’s taint and star with licks.

As he moaned out in pleasure, Marroc could feel his sheath protect less and less of his cock as it slipped out into the open. The scent easily attracted another bar patron, who made sure to help give the twitching member just as much of a warm, welcoming home as Marroc’s own covering. As his dick was engulfed by an elongated muzzle, the porcine wolf could only whine with glee, his tail swinging so fast he thwapped the people behind him. 

“Seems like this lovely mutt needs to be quieter,” whispered someone, right as a rounded object started to press against Marroc’s lips. The pressure was too much to fight against, and soon a ball gag was firmly affixed into his maw, with the straps securely fastened behind his head. As thanks, the figure nuzzled into the scruffy onyx fur all around the wolf’s neck, nipping at it every so often.

As Marroc’s pre started to flow with enthusiasm, the group changed once more. With each passing round of people the doting his body received changed drastically. Some were happy enough to smooch, embrace, and grope all along his body in a loving way, checking out his additional pounds and added fat since his last visit. Others were far more eager, with some taking their entire turns to affix a large harness, strap-by-strap, onto his frame. 

Still, others were more enticed with making the wolf whine like a newborn puppy. A handful were more than happy to add additional glaze to his tender star. Either they took their time to just tease his ring, letting their broad heads slicken his opening and stretch it all the more for the next patron, or they slipping in all at once. A few in particular caused Marroc to yipe as they hilted with a single thrust. In each of those cases he could only thank himself that they had time to prep themselves, since they came so heavily and so fast past his prostate that they must have been stroking themselves as they waited for their turns.

Even better was the flared tip of one particularly feisty horse, who happened to empty himself three times over in his particular round. The excess seeped out and down the wolf’s legs, oozing towards the floor. Thankfully some additional helping hands were more than eager to massage the stallion’s milk deep into Marroc’s fur as more maws and tailholes made sure to take care of Marroc’s raging hard on. Handjobs were more common than anything else, but as much as the digits stroked and tugged along his shaft and knot, they always ended just a hair shy of climax. It was as if they were working together to prime the pup into his eventual, uncontrollable releases into many enterprising mouths and ample backsides.

After a solid hour of being passed around the bar, drained and dripping with love from everyone, Marroc slumped against the wall and slid to the floor. While he ordinarily would lament about his ass landing right in the middle of a huge puddle of club member jizz, it just felt far too good to be able to sit down at last.

“Everybody have a turn?” A voice called out from behind the bar. Dozens of voices chimed in the affirmative, with a few cheeky ones mentioning what they did to Marroc as well. “Alright then! Turn up the lights, next round of drinks is on the house!”

The entire establishment exploded in approval as the orders started coming in. The lights, however, only seemed to go up a tiny bit, as if on a dimmer. Marroc could have sworn that, years ago, the system was rigged to be entirely on or entirely off. Still, it didn’t matter. At least he was getting some rest, albeit in the nude, and someone he could barely see was nice enough to remove the ball gag and help him to a frosty mug of ale.

“Thanks to all of you for welcoming our good friend Marroc back! However, he’s been away for six whole years, and we’ve only given him fitting welcome for one!”

The boos from the crowd were almost deafening, with some yelling about how it was an utter outrage.

“I know, I completely agree! So, to truly welcome our friend back into the fold, we at least deserve to give him five more entire rounds. AM I RIGHT?!”

The bar grew all the more rowdy with their responses as Marroc wiggled in his spot on the floor. Even if he wanted to refuse, it wasn’t like he was going to get far. The plush handcuffs affixed to his wrists at some point would have seen to that, and it’s not like his bondage attire would be all that welcome if he ran out to the street early on in the evening.

“Moving forward we have some excellent toys for your use right by the pool tables. Drink up, stay hydrated, and be sure to treat our puppy right!”

With five more entire rounds to go, and with the burly wolf already feeling quite full and content, he couldn’t have asked for a better homecoming.