Chapter 12

Cockzilla sat on his chair, taking long drags on a fresh cigar. It was Sunday. He was naked, but freshly washed. He had spent the entire morning cleaning out his trailer, removing the garbage and cleaning the floors. He had forgotten how much work it was, but it would be worth it. He needed the place to be clean and well lit so that what he was doing could be seen. The bitch needed to fucking see, and he wanted to see the tears run down her cheeks once he was done.

Roland was very prompt and he showed up exactly when he said he would, not a minute before or after three. He didn’t knock, but instead let himself in, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts. Whereas Nekkie had been aloof, Roland was filled with contempt, his frame emanating a surprising amount of resistance. He didn’t come with any pretense of fucking Cockzilla to keep away blackmail or even to protect Nekkie’s career. He was coming to best Cockzilla at his own game, to show the big lizard that he was a faggot who fucked guys even when he was drowning in pussy. Too bad the fox didn’t know Cockzilla was going to play his trump card.

“So what are we doing first?” said Roland. “Want me to put on a little sailor suit? Or maybe a cheerleader outfit? Or maybe I should get one for you?” Already the fox was undressing, his hands neatly flicking loose his belt and removing his shirt.

“Shut up you fucking faggot!” said Cockzilla, hissing and setting down his cigar. “And put this on!” Cockzilla tossed Roland a heavy leather collar he’d borrowed from the supply closet. The dragon wasn’t into such things, but he needed physical control if things were going to play out properly.

“Oooh, kinky, you want me to put on a ball gag too?” said Roland as he buckled the collar around his neck.

“No, but I do want you to shut the fuck up!” said Cockzilla. Though he was showing irritation, deep down he knew he was still in control. He just needed Roland to think that victory was at hand for awhile, that Cockzilla would be outed as gay and that it somehow mattered. Cockzilla knew he wasn’t gay, and all that really mattered was making sure that today was Nekkie and Roland’s last day together. Come Monday there would be new pussies to fuck and new bitches to bend to his will. He’d wasted time on that useless bird Nekkie and her faggy little boyfriend. It was time to get rid of them, to crush their spirits and make sure they didn’t get in his way.

As soon as Roland put on the collar Cockzilla clicked a leash onto the front, pulling the fox down onto the floor. Roland continued to play coy, striking poses and pretending to be astonished by the size of Cockzilla’s shaft. His sarcasm was painful, and Cockzilla considered yanking on the leash hard enough to make the fox fall forward and smash his muzzle on the coffee table. But things wouldn’t go right if Roland was beat up. He needed to make it look like they were enjoying themselves.

Roland went to work on Cockzilla’s shaft with his usual enthusiasm, making up for a lack of skill with an excess of movement and tension. It wasn’t half-bad, really, and if things had been different and Roland had been a girl, Cockzilla might have sat down and enjoyed himself. But as it was, he wanted only to keep Roland going for now. He pushed and shoved into Roland’s mouth aggressively; panting and hissing as the fox worked him over. They both glowered at each other, their anger driving forward the sex as they both tried to force pleasure on the other, not out of a sense of love but out of a deep-seated hatred.

Soon Roland was swallowing almost the entire length of Cockzilla’s shaft, gagging on each forward thrust and closing his eyes. On one such thrust Cockzilla seized the initiative and grabbed Roland with his right hand, trapping the fox and holding him there. Roland pushed back, writhing a bit, but there wasn’t much he could do short of biting down, and Cockzilla’s firm grip let him know that was not the best of ideas. His shaft cutting off Roland’s air, Cockzilla quietly picked up his phone and hit the speed dial, waiting for an answer.

“Hello?” came Nekkie’s voice, amplified as much as the small speaker on Cockzilla’s phone would allow. Roland froze. Cockzilla grinned, his plan now coming together.

“Come back to my trailer, there’s something I want you to see,” said Cockzilla. He hung up, grinning down at Roland for a moment, then pulling the fox free. His eyes were full of hatred, and Cockzilla knew that it was only his superior size that protected Roland from attacking.

“That wasn’t part of the deal, you motherfucker,” he said. Cockzilla hissed, grabbing the leash taut and pulling on it until Roland visibly choked. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he remained defiant and hateful.

“What’s the matter? I thought you said she didn’t mind if you were cheating!” said Cockzilla. Roland spat in Cockzilla’s face, summoning up the last of the air and saliva in his throat. Enraged, Cockzilla threw Roland onto the bed and then pounced on him, cuffing his hands behind his back. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but he needed to restrain the fox, lest he break free and make a run for it.

“FUCK YOU!” said Roland. He writhed against his bonds for a moment, then righted himself once he was certain he couldn’t escape. “You want it? Fucking come and get it! You fag!” Roland raised his twin tails, wagging his ass at Cockzilla. The big lizard hissed, lubing up his half-hard cock and pressing it against the hole.

“Listen here you little shit! I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to like it so fucking much, your little birdie friend will think you’ve switched teams!” Cockzilla began shoving and jamming his length into Roland, making the fox whine and growl as he was filled. It was a tight fit, and Cockzilla wasn’t in the mood to be all that gentle. “I’m going to blow your fucking mind!”

“You’re not just ugly, you’re stupid too,” said Roland. Cockzilla hissed, yanking on the leash again.

“Shut up you little prick!” Roland was showing more resistance than Cockzilla had counted on, but he knew he only needed Roland to look like he was enjoying it for a few brief, fatal seconds. Roland knew this too, and he growled at Cockzilla, his entire body offering up nothing but resistance. This was going to be tough, especially as Cockzilla didn’t exactly have a lot of experience here, but he had to do it. He needed to break the both of them by forcing them to confront the lies he’d led them to.

Cockzilla moved slowly at first, testing Roland out and searching for sweet spots. The fox wasn’t giving up any hints, but Cockzilla had about thirty minutes to work with, and that was more than enough time. His huge fingers teased and tugged, pinching and caressing and stroking the fox as he was relentlessly fucked from behind. He brought his shaft in again and again and again, pistoning so hard it made the trailer shake on its cinderblocks. Roland’s resolve remained stiff, but Cockzilla had all the cards, and he knew that he would win if he just kept up the assault.

Roland’s resistance slowly began to give. It started with the occasional moan or whimper, but was soon giving way to full-blown whining and crying. Cockzilla hissed with delight as he continued to press down his conquest, fucking the fox harder and harder. He was going to break Roland the way he did his bitches, intending to leave the fox gasping and panting by the time Nekkie walked in the door.

But even as his moans and writhes showed he was feeling the sensation, his body remained stiff and rigid. He refused to relax, refused to give into what his own muscles wanted him to do. His body wanted him to cum, but his mind did not, denying Cockzilla the victory he desired.

Though it pained him to do so, Cockzilla reached around with his free hand, rubbing Roland’s shaft vigorously. He had expected the fox to make some kind of comment, but he just growled, steeling his resolve behind clenched teeth and closed eyes. Cockzilla was invigorated by the challenge, though, and continued to press himself on the fox, timing his squeezes with the thrusts, working hard on Roland’s shaft even as he attacked from the rear.

Just when Cockzilla thought he had the upper hand, though, Roland began to laugh. It was not the light, pleased laugh of someone enjoying the delights and intimacy of sex, but rather the sort of mad laughter reserved for the truly hopeless employing the truly desperate. Roland squeezed down on Cockzilla’s shaft and began thrusting himself backwards as best he could, an impressive feat considering that his hands were cuffed firmly behind his back. Cockzilla was caught off guard and almost fell backward, his hands letting go of Roland’s leash and cock as he pressed against the wall to steady himself.

Roland continued shoving and squeezing and thrusting, trying to milk out Cockzilla to a conclusion. He knew that the monstrous lizard couldn’t keep it hard purely on hatred, and though Cockzilla could normally keep it hard through two, three even four girls at a time, straining to keep it up inside Roland took all of the will he could muster. He regretted now not popping some pills or shooting an injection into his shaft to keep it hard. Roland now realized what Cockzilla was trying to do, and he had every intention of ruining the little farce by making Cockzilla limp and impotent. The result might still look pretty bad, but Roland was short on options, and apparently crazy enough to try anything.

Cockzilla pressed himself hard into Roland, trying to regain control. Roland kept laughing, tears streaming down his cheeks as he pressed himself on the lizard. It was almost frightening, how much strength he was able to muster. Why was he doing this? Why wasn’t he just giving in and enjoying it? From their first encounter Cockzilla had presumed Roland was weak willed and prone to giving in to lust. What was driving him to fight back so hard, especially when the war was clearly already lost?

There was no time for Cockzilla to think on this, however. Nekkie would be here any minute, and he needed to have Roland cumming or basking in the afterglow when she opened the door. Doing his best to ignore what Roland was up to, he fucked the fox harder and harder, hissing and grunting with the force of each impact. Roland continued to 81fight back, but his resistance was useless at this point. Cockzilla would win; the only question was whether or not he would win when he wanted to.

At long last Cockzilla felt Roland shudder and gasp with orgasm, his shaft exploding beneath him and sending out hot, white jets. Cockzilla looked forward to see them splatter on the coffee table a full four feet from the bed. It was impressive distance to say the least. As Cockzilla continued to look forward, he saw Nekkie standing in the doorway. Her eyes were half lidded, and her face was one of disappointment, not shock.

“I had a feeling you were cheating on me, but I had hoped you had more taste,” said Nekkie. She turned to leave, and Roland went limp, as though the life had been drained from him. Cockzilla let go of the leash, taking a big drag on his cigar as he let the fox lay there on the bed for a moment. Roland was in shock, and Cockzilla now regretted angling it such that he couldn’t see the fox’s face. The look was probably priceless.

Suddenly Roland bolted, his leash trailing behind him as he ran. As his hands were bound behind his back it was difficult for him to balance, and as he ran towards the door he tripped and fell hard on the floor. The impact was enough to shake the trailer, making Cockzilla wince reflexively. But it wasn’t enough to stop Roland, who bolted through the door onto the back lot outside, abandoning his clothes as he chased after Nekkie.

Cockzilla couldn’t see outside from where he sat, but he could hear everything through the open door. There was the quick patter of Roland’s feet as he dashed after Nekkie, interrupted only by his gasps for breath. “It isn’t what it looks like!” said the fox. “I was doing this for you! To get RID of him!” There was a loud slap of palm hitting cheek, then the thud of a bound body striking the ground, followed by scrabbling feet and finally crying. Cockzilla hissed and took another long drag on his cigar, blowing the smoke out towards the open door. Cockzilla might not have gotten what he wanted, but at least he’d won. He always won.