Second story commission I’ve written. This was an interesting one to write for a few reasons:
- I enjoyed the central theme the commissioner requested for this one.
- While this seems like a serious test of strength between two men, things get a little…silly (per commissioner request). That made writing this a bit interesting.
- This one gave me an opportunity to try my hand at writing action/fighting sequences.
This story is a little on the mature side due to strong language and mild violence.
The commissioner wishes I keep them anonymous, but have allowed me to post their story to my gallery.
Characters © commissioner
Story © yours truly
“I’m gonna teach that old fart a lesson! And beat the shit out of his bitch-ass son too!” Mase thought as he headed towards Duke’s and Sol’s house. Fortunately, or unfortunately, for him, he didn’t live too far away. Having been there before, only to get humiliated by the old coyote, he took the quickest route he could. He didn’t care that he wore jeans and a tight, black t-shirt while it was this sunny and hot out, or that his grey fur took in more heat rather than reflect it; he marched to their house, puffed up and burning for revenge. If anything, his tight shirt would at least accent his thick, beefy muscular frame for anyone in the neighborhood who happened to admire his body.
As soon as he got to their house, he nearly ran up to the front door and pounded his fist. “I know you’re in there old man!” he shouted, not caring if the neighbors heard. He waited only a few seconds before pounding the door again. A greying but well-toned and tightly muscled coyote answered, wearing only loose, tattered jeans and a stained undershirt. He was shorter and somewhat skinnier than Mase, but his body was more built for agility and defense rather than pure strength. Just like in their last fight, Mase hoped that the coyote’s age would work against him.
“So…the fag has returned huh?” Duke taunted. He voice was firm, but collected.
The wolf pointed a finger at him. “I’m gonna be sure to fuck you up good this time. Fuckin’ cheater!”
“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re queer.”
“It’s not my fault your son’s a homophobe!” he shouted, charging at Duke.
As Mase was about to throw a punch right at the coyote’s face, he found himself almost falling to the floor as he dodged his attack.
Duke quickly jabbed his knee right into the wolf’s soft belly, his tight t-shirt providing no padding.
The knee sank right into his gut. All his built up aggression seemed to rush out of his lungs, while saliva dripped out of his muzzle upon impact. He sank further towards the floor, but kept enough balance to recover. He quickly tried to catch his breath.
“Fucker,” he growled, standing back up to face the coyote despite his sudden imbalance.
“You want revenge? I’ll let you have it,” he said. He maneuvered behind the wolf and closed the front door. He continued. “But I’m not in the mood to humiliate you in another fight.”
Mase snarled at him, trying not to clutch his gut after taking a knee to it. He didn’t want to show any weakness to the older coyote.
“How ’bout we do this mano-y-mano instead? Say, a gut-punching challenge? Receiver keeps his paws up over his head while the attacker throws a couple jabs. If the receiver can still stand, we switch off. First to submit loses.” Duke stuck out his right paw. “Fair enough?”
The wolf looked at him quizzically, still trying to ignore the pain from the knee jab earlier. “Sounds like you won’t be able to cheat this time. It’s a deal then.”
They shook paws.
“You won’t be able to let your eyes wander at my son this time,” he scolded.
“I’m the only one here to see you puss out…again,” he said with a smirk.
Mase snarled, showing his ivory-white teeth.
He maneuvered back in front of the giant wolf and headed towards the back of his house. “Follow me,” he said, waving a paw for him to do so.
It didn’t take them long to make their way through Duke’s house to the backyard. Given that he lived in a sketchy neighborhood in the South, his house wasn’t all that big or clean. The front door seemed right across from the back door. Mase focused on Duke, wanting to see him finally fall to his strength. He allowed his rage to build back up again so he could stand a chance against the coyote. It pissed him off that someone well over half his age could beat him in a fight so easily. His eyes soon turned to Duke’s ass as they walked out the back door. The older coyote might as well not have been wearing a shirt; his jeans presented his ass and back so well. He remembered how good it felt against his groin during their last fight when he had Duke in a sleeper hold. He hoped to go further this time, whether the coyote liked it or not.
The midday sun warmed their skin through their thick fur as they walked outside, but the slight breeze kept most of the heat off. It didn’t matter to Mase though; his thirst for revenge boiled inside him, giving him the energy and willpower he needed to finally take down Duke.
There wasn’t much in the backyard: just some lawn equipment, a bike, a football, garbage cans, and other miscellaneous objects that didn’t seem to get put away. All of this was either up against the fence or next to the house, leaving the center of the yard wide open to use for their test of manliness. Mase remembered it looked almost exactly like this from last time, though the grass seemed like it hasn’t been mowed for some time.
“At least the ground looks soft enough when I knock you on your wrinkly ass,” Mase thought to himself, glaring at the coyote. It’s as if his yellow eyes pierced through his half-closed eyelids from the sudden change in light, right into the coyote’s back.
As soon as they were in the middle of the yard, both contestants stripped off their tight shirts and tossed them aside. Mase felt god-like and didn’t mind exposing his full, round arms to anyone who happened to look. He bathed in the sunlight warming his pecs, his tight back, his muscular gut; he couldn’t help but show himself off to Duke and anyone who happened to be looking. He wished he had prepared better for this, as Duke still had his toned, tight abs while his wasn’t as naturally tight. But he wasn’t worried about that; he’d just have to hit harder.
“Still looking as flabby as ever,” Duke taunted, shaking his head, “I expected better from a queer like you.”
The wolf growled and stopped his bodybuilder act. “I am not going easy on you this time old man! I wish your son was around to see his daddy get humiliated. I can see where he gets his good looks from; he’s a cute little bitch!”
Duke huffed at his comment. “Boy! You should not have said that! Unfortunately for you, I’m the host, so I get the first strike. Arms up!”
“Fair enough.” He complied and placed his paws on his head, exposing his taut, semi-soft abdomen as he tightened up before Duke could make a move. He hoped someone would notice his physique, aside from Duke, and he wished Sol or his fox boyfriend were around to notice it too. “You know? Your bitch has a nice muzzle to -”
PAP! PAP! PAP!
Even though Mase tightened up, he could feel the first few punches ripple through his abs and knock some air out of his lungs; the knee to his gut earlier didn’t help either. The punches lifted him off his heals some and he began to double over, but kept his balance. He fought the instinct to protect his stomach with his hands after the very first onslaught. He took a deep breath as he removed his paws from his head and shook out the aftershock.
“Don’t you EVER talk about my son like that again!”
“Whatever. My turn!”
Duke put his paws over his head, tightening his abs.
WUMP! WHAM! SMACK!
“Mmff!” “Huugh!” “Hwaa!”
Mase gave it his all and punched the coyote’s stomach as hard as he could. He made sure each punch was hard and long, sinking into his midsection. The coyote barely flinched and was only knocked back a few inches, but made a noticeable wince as each strike landed on his armored muscles.
He let out a deep breath. “Not bad for a pup who likes taking dick.”
“You’re one to talk. You know you wanted my dick up your ass when I had you in that hold last time.” The wolf put his arms up again.
Duke glared at the wolf, returning the long, sinking punches Mase just gave him.
He could feel his softer midsection wrap around the coyote’s fist with each strike. They knocked him back inch by inch and lifted him up in the air, and knocked more wind and spit out of him. He doubled over further after the onslaught, panting and struggling to recover and stand back up. He felt his strength leave him and felt nothing but pain in his abs.
“Typical wolf. Always trying to be the Alpha to everyone.” He shook his head. “Give up yet?”
Mase managed to stand back up, barely. He started panting and tried to control his breathing. “Never.”
“Alrighty then.” He put his paws over his head.
The wolf took a deep breath, focusing what little energy he has left in him on these next two punches.
Duke pretended to double over and get knocked back, but little air whooshed out of his lungs upon impact; both attacks barely made a dent to his armored midsection. The pain in his aged but toned abs was there, sure, but he hoped faking it would fool the wolf into thinking he’s making some progress.
“Ooooohhh,” he moaned, panting and holding his midsection.
Mase managed a smirk despite the searing pain in his abs from earlier. “Finally feeling it old man?”
Even though Duke still felt little pain, he struggled to straighten his back. When his body was fully erect, he leaned his head back and exhaled to shake it off, keeping up with his act.
“What? Not gonna call me a fag or something?”
He chuckled. “I see you can still hit hard from last time.”
“That’s what these babies are for.” Mase flexed his thick biceps as he put his arms up over his head for the next round.
“But I doubt this pup has any defense. That poor excuse you call a six pack is as soft as you. Bet you enjoy your little foxy boytoy’s cock since you can’t keep up. God, no wonder you’re such a faggot.”
Mase huffed, his yellow eyes fired up in rage. He unintentionally lifted his paws off his head, briefly softening his abs. “Fuck off! You leave my boyfriend out of – OOOOF! GAH! HHHHHNNNNGGG!”
The coyote gave him three deep strikes. Each one forced the wolf’s softened belly to wrap around each punch. Spit and wind flew out of his muzzle from the impacts, leaving him in a slight coughing fit after the onslaught. He doubled-over easily, the top of his ear tips nearly touching the ground, yet he was still able to stand. He legs wobbled underneath him as he struggled to stay standing. No air filled or exited his lungs as he panted. He eventually willed enough strength to attempt to straighten, but it ended up being a fight in itself.
Duke put his paws on his hips and rolled his eyes as he watched the wolf struggle to stand. “Why does this kid always feel like he needs to one-up me,” he thought, “I don’t know, probably some ‘Alpha wolf’ complex or something.” It didn’t matter though; it’s over now. With the wolf still leaned forward, still unable to stand straight up, he balled up a fist and jammed it right into his navel.
Mase shot off the ground for a moment, yellow eyes bulging. He leaned much further down than before while his entire body was being supported by Duke’s fist in his gut. He felt every knuckle and every impact point of the strike. The next thing he knew, that same fist guided him down to the ground. He soon felt the soft grass along his midsection and chest after Duke released the fist, leaving him prone face-first beneath the coyote.
Duke kneeled down to get close to the wolf; he could still hear him breathing. He put his muzzle close to his ear. “I’ll be damned. You’re still alive after all that.” He stood back up and put a foot paw on his back. As he rolled the wolf over with his foot, Mase’s tongue lazily stuck out of his muzzle as he breathed quietly. His eyes twitched, struggling to stay open between being beaten and the sudden flash of sunlight.
The coyote moved his foot over the wolf’s belly. He gave one hard press, squeezing the wolf’s guts between his foot and the ground.
“Mmmmm!” Mase groaned. He attempted to tighten up his abs, but to no avail; Duke put most of his weight on that one foot, combined with his natural strength. It pushed out what little air he managed to get back in his lungs while lying there on the ground; he could only submit to the coyote for now.
“You’d make a nice footstool; I’m sure my son and I will put your pillow to good use. Just gotta stay down there where you belong you bitch!” He gave one final squeeze before lifting his foot off the wolf.
Mase gasped as soon as the pressure released from his belly. Using his arms, he struggled to sit himself up, abs screaming in agony. He then rolled onto his knees and stood up. Planting his feet, he attempted to straighten his back, still hunched some.
He inhaled as much air as he could. “Fuck” *huf* “You.”
He then charged at the coyote head first, aiming his shoulder at his navel.
Duke turned and dodged the charge. He stuck out a foot, tripping the wolf.
Mase fell flat on his stomach and back on the ground again.
Knowing the wolf didn’t have much strength, Duke quickly rolled him over in a headlock with one arm and pinned his legs with his own. He pulled back to stretch out his stomach.
Mase struggled to free himself, his free arm clawing at the coyote’s around his large neck while his other arm was pinned between the ground and his hulking form.
Duke ignored the wolf’s claws, putting more pressure around his neck. He balled up a fist with his free paw and began pounding at the wolf’s taut stomach.
“Gah!” “Ooof!” “Ffffuuuck!”
He didn’t have any freedom to react to each strike. Every inch of the coyote’s knuckle connected to his navel, directly on his abs, his kidney area, wherever Duke happened to hit him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as Duke kept up the chokehold and he soon could no longer keep them open. Before the wolf blacked out, the last thing he felt was Duke’s fist wailing on his soft, stretched belly, and he swore he could feel Duke’s bulge rubbing against his ass. He too began to get hard from this, despite having his windpipe being cut off.
But Mase didn’t black out completely. Duke eventually released him out of the hold, determining that the wolf had enough.
Blood quickly rushed back to his brain after he gasped for air, turning himself over on his hands and knees. He was surprised the coyote didn’t go all the way and tried to use him as a cock sleeve; he figured Duke thought himself too manly to mess around with another guy.
The wolf coughed and hacked, still on the ground. He began to look up at Duke.
The coyote’s kick knocked the downed wolf under his muzzle. Spit flew out upon impact, the force of the kick nearly broke one of his teeth. His arms gave out from under him, splaying out to his sides; his chest rested right against the grass. His head rested parallel on the ground, tongue sticking out his muzzle, eyes closed. Some drool came out of the corner of his mouth; a tiny amount of snot leaked out of a nostril. His ass was sticking up in the air, tail drooped between the butt cheeks of his jeans, legs loosely supporting his rear.
It was over; Duke won again.
He looked down at the unconscious wolf and rolled his eyes in annoyance. “God you’re too easy,” he said to the wolf. He looked around, seeing if any of his neighbors noticed what just happened. Nothing as far as he could tell.
He pondered what to do with Mase. He didn’t want to just leave him out in his backyard; he’d look too messy and he could sneak up on him when he woke up. He could take him inside, but he would sneak up on him in there too. He figured his best bet would be to get him off his property as best as he could; he didn’t want to give the wolf an easy opportunity for revenge, especially if it would involve his son.
He bent down and picked up the bulky wolf’s form. He leaned the ragdoll against him, grabbed his arm, and threw it around his neck. He slowly dragged the wolf to the back door, through his house, and out the front door, stopping once in a while to catch his breath from lugging around a grey, fluffy deadweight. He casually let the wolf roll down off his front stoop and onto the ground outside his front door for all to see: a topless, unconscious, pathetic excuse for someone his age and reputation. He returned to the back yard and grabbed the wolf’s shirt, returned to the front door, and tossed it on top of him.
“I hope you never come back here again, and don’t you ever go near my son again too. There will be consequences.” With that final warning, he slammed the door.