Commissioned by Anonymous
Meanwhile, Derrick had wandered quite deeply into the upper floors, finding the rather maze-like hallways more than a little disorienting, but he was enjoying his exploration, and the house seemed to constantly reveal something new to him at every twist. The rooms, however, conformed to a logic which he was slowly unraveling–while he’d first thought that they were rather messily organized, he found instead that the rooms appeared to be grouped into suites and collections. One of the first set he’d discovered was a large bedroom, beautifully lit, with nearly every wall lined with bookcases chock full of dusty tomes and pulp paperback alike. Every door led to more rooms of books, some disheveled, some shelved, but they were simply everywhere. Another suite which he found next, followed a more mythical theme, with marble statues of bizarre creatures, high, vaulted ceilings, and every room in the suite, for some reason, had a rather large balcony jutting off of it, overlooking the gardens behind the house.
Looking out from one of the balconies in the fading light, Derrick saw someone he hadn’t met wandering out of the house and into the garden–some other attendee of the professor’s club, apparently. Derrick sighed–he didn’t know what he was doing here. If Luis was here–that guy was brilliant. Derrick had heard some stuff about him from one of his nerdier friends-with-benefits, one of the guys he fucked on the downlow on campus, since he couldn’t risk being out if he was still thinking about going career after school. Derrick wasn’t dumb by any means, but school bullshit wasn’t his strong suit. If this was some sort of academic group, he was going to be a fish out of water.
He left the balcony, and smelled food down below, and wondered whether it was time for dinner yet. He should still probably try and work his way back downstairs somehow, but try as he might, he couldn’t quite figure out how to retrace his steps. He ended up in a suite he hadn’t passed through yet, one which was far more athletic in flavor, with antique sports uniforms and equipment hanging from the wall. The room he found himself in was all wood and leather, and something about it just smelled so…inviting and comfortable. He kind of wanted to get a little too drunk to drive tonight, so he might have a chance to sleep here.
He wandered deeper and found himself in the suite’s study, and he saw something very strange hanging next to the desk. It was one of those mascot costumes you saw people wear at times, but decidedly older and mustier than any he’d seen. He was decent friends with the mascot for the college, a big guy named Bruce. He hung out with the team as an honorary player from time to time, though they kept his identity secret for him, and the guy always complained about how hot it got in the suit, and how much it stank. Still, it was one of the highest paying student jobs on campus, so he didn’t complain too vocally. Still, Derrick had always sort of wondered about them–and then here one was, almost like it was waiting for him.
He walked over to it, and found it hanging on some sort of rack, and he picked up the heavy mask. At first sight, he thought it was a bear of some kind, but when he picked it up, he saw that it had horns, and that it’s snout was more bull-like than anything else. The body though, with it’s big padded gut, and the hands, which had claws, were definitely more ferocious than a bull. The costume had on a jersey, and when he got a good look at it, he saw that the team was “The Ursavines” which was one of the most ridiculous team names he’d ever heard of. Still, the costume was effective, even if the name was not.
He pulled off his shoes and socks, and then stopped himself. He wasn’t actually going to put this thing on, was he? Why not? It wasn’t like anyone would ever find out if he did. Without really thinking about it, and without intending to, he ended up taking off all of his clothes before he started putting on the costume. Sure, Bruce always wore something underneath the costume at school, but for some reason Derrick knew he needed to be…naked. How else would he get a good feel for it? It just didn’t seem right to wear it with clothing on. He pulled on the bottom half of the costume first, pulling the suspenders up over his shoulders which held them in place, his feet sliding into the hoof like shoes which were attached at the bottom, and then he pulled the top half on, his hands sliding down the sleeves and into the gloves at the end. The paws were a little awkward–the hands only had four holes, and the fingers were a bit clumsy, especially with the bear claws sprouting from the tips. Lastly, he picked up the mask and plopped it on, surprised to find that it fit him quite well, and that it wasn’t too hard to see out of. Still, the costume was awkwardly shaped, and he couldn’t really get a good look at himself–instead, he thumped his way back a room, remembering that there was a mirror in the bedroom he’d passed through first.
The short walk was enough for him to start sweating in the suit–it really was hot. It didn’t help that the whole get up was made out of leather and actual fur–most of the new ones were lighter and fully synthetic, but he kind of liked the feel of it. It was heavy, but not too heavy, and it smelled, well, musky and even a little smoky inside, with a definite whiff of grass in there too. He tromped in front of the mirror, feeling a little silly for even putting it on, but it actually looked…really good on him. Well, the costume just looked good period. Most of the ones wandering the sidelines these days just looked silly, more than anything, more like cartoons, but this one, it was actually a little terrifying. The real fur and leather gave it a sense of reality that fake fur can’t convey, and the padding was very well done. He actually looked like a massive, muscular beast, and the feet of the costume were actually on platforms, adding several inches to his height. It was scary and even a little…hot?
Mostly just hot. The costume was heating up really fast now, and he was sweating buckets inside of it. Still, he didn’t want to take it off. The sweat was making the smells he’d gotten whiffs of earlier even stronger, and the was actually getting kind of horny. Still, the heat was getting to him, and he stumbled back, suddenly off balance. He reached out to steady himself but the only thing close was the bed, and he collapsed down on it, hot and horny and worried he was going out of his mind. In the costume, he rolled over and started bucking into the bed, thrusting against it, breathing heavy and snorting, and he gripped the sheets in his clawed hands, ripping into them with his grip. Something was coming out of him, something was pushing out, and as he humped the mattress, he felt it pushing out of his groin, and he snorted and grunted until a cock pushed its way out of the furry crotch of the suit, followed by a heavy, furred ball sack filled with two massive low-hanging balls.
Overheating now, he rolled over, not quite able to believe what he was feeling, he reached down with one of his gloved hands and wrapped his paw around the massive shaft. It was close to ten inches long and very thick, but he could feel it–actually feel it, like it was really his, and he started jacking it roughly, unable to help himself. So hot, so horny, he started snorting, feeling his hot breath push out his bull like nostrils. At first, he could only feel the jacking off one way–it was just a glove jacking his cock, but slowly the paw started tingling, and then he could feel the soft flesh of his cock under the rough pads of his paws. His whole body started tingling then, and running his other paw across his hard chest and firm gut, he could feel them too, the sweaty, wooly fur, the shiver his claws sent as they ran across his skin.
“Mind if I give you a hand with that thing?” a voice said, and Derrick gave a snort of surprise, looked over and saw the professor in the doorway, except he was looking less and less like his usual self with each passing second. He walked over to the bed, shedding his clothing before he could outgrow each piece, and then leaned over Derrick on the bed, shoving their snouts together. Derrick didn’t need anything more than that, and he started working his long tongue into the professor’s mouth, feeling shivers as his tongue ran across both of their sets of sharp fangs, but his hand never left his cock. How was this happening to him? Was he hallucinating? He’d never thought of fucking his professor, but he couldn’t stop, it was like his instincts had grabbed all of the reins and were driving him off a cliff.
“Mr. Sullivan what’s happening to mooeee…” Derrick said, as the professor pulled away from his new snout and started sucking on his cock. That was all he could get out–after that, the sensation of his professor’s mouth around his cock left him snorting and groaning, thrusting up to meet Mike’s throat, and then he gave a bellow, sat up and shoved Mike off his cock. “Noooo, what happened, tell me nooow.”
“Shut up, and let’s just fuck, boy! I haven’t had this much cock in ages,” Mike said, and tried to go back down on Derrick, but he kicked him back with a heavy hoof, Mr. Sullivan landing on his chubby ass in the middle of the bedroom, and then Derrick flew at him, the two of them wrestling, and while Derrick started out with the intention to pin the old man down, or werewolf rather, and get some answers, but instead he found him rolling the professor onto his belly, and he was running his massive cock up and down the professor’s crack, and then he was working it inside of him. The old wolf’s hole was surprisingly loose, but that was the last thought Derrick had before his lust overwhelmed him, and then he was snorting and roaring and pounding the professor’s hole, the wolf shouting encouragement back at him.
Derrick didn’t even notice his first orgasm, it was just a spike of intense pleasure, but his cock wasn’t done yet–his massive balls were churning, and so he kept on fucking, and Mike braced himself for what he hoped was going to be a long and intense fuck from the brand new Ursavine of the manor. Off in the distance, he thought he heard the doorbell, but ignored it–whoever it was could wait–the house would take care of it, if it needed taking care of. Besides, it didn’t seem like Derrick would be finishing anytime soon, and he didn’t care one bit.
Bracken's Corner 