Whore Him Out

You **** the fox onto his knees and position him up against the bathroom stall's wall, where a gloryhole has been skillfully carved. While he's still adjusting to his surroundings, you pick up his graphic t-shirt and dig your claws into one of the seams. You start to rip it apart, carefully extracting a long strip of black fabric from the remains of the shirt. A makeshift blindfold. You wrap it around his eyes and tie it tightly around his skull, before patronizingly patting him on top of the head. "Stay put. When a cock presses up against your muzzle, you'll suck it. It's that or the cops."

He nods slightly, and presses his muzzle up against the gloryhole, waiting patiently. Confident that the teen won't be going anywhere, you step out of the stall, close it behind you, and slip back out into the bar. You start making the rounds, trying to find any guy in the bar who's looking horny, lonely, or simply mean. You whisper to them what you're doing and where it's happening, and move on to find someone else.

By the time you make your way back to the bathroom, there's a line well past the door. You nudge your way through and make it all the way over to the back stall. Upon opening the door, you see quite the sight.

The one-innocent fox-boy you picked up from the bar is kneeling, just as you left him, up against the gloryhole. He hasn't touched the blindfold, but his hand is a blur between his legs, desperately jacking off his knotty cock. A massive equine cock thrusts through the hole in the wall to drive into his throat, eliciting a little gurgle from the teen before you. Judging from the sticky white stains running all over his cheeks, chin, throat, and chest, it looks like the horny stallion in the stall over isn't your fox-boy's first companion since you left.

Chuckling to yourself, you step out of the stall again and stand guard outside, keeping an eye on the line. You start collecting a crisp ten-dollar bill from each lustful male looking to have a go at the fox's throat, and nearly all are more than happy to oblige. In a mere hour or two, you've made yourself quite the tidy profit.

The line of bachelors isn't slowing down.

You order the line of eager men to wait and you duck back into the fox's stall. You remove his blindfold and drop it on the bathroom floor, a new smirk on your lips. "You're getting a promotion, buddy. Turn around."

The fox-boy looks up at you with those wide green eyes. The fur around his lips is entirely stained with cum, and he's damp with sweat from all the exertion. Despite that, though, he seems to know what you mean, and he breaks out into a new, huge grin. He eagerly turns around and drops to all fours, lifting his tail pressing his tight ass up against the gloryhole without hesitation. He shook his hips a little bit, and one hand slipped between his legs to beat off furiously.

A new idea strikes you. You kick off your jeans, quickly followed by your briefs as well. You scoop up those briefs from the floor once more and twirl them around your finger, unable to resist the huge, somewhat cruel smirk growing on your lips. You drape your worn briefs around his muzzle, pressing his nose into the crotch of the fabric. The fox whimpers in excitement, and breathes in deeply.

You chuckle to yourself as you swiftly slide your pants back on, now going fully commando. You give the teen one last look before you step out of the stall, turning to address the line of eager men rapidly piling up. "Alright, boys," you call out, raising one hand to get their attention. "It's time to get a go at his other side. No knots, no longer than ten minutes, thirty bucks a piece. Let's go."

Cash floods into your paws like never before. You didn't even know that this many men were in the bar in the first place. You even spot a colleague or two among the masses, but they simply hand you the cash and don't say a word. As the night's coming to a close, you even spot your boss, the heavyset boar who seems to be constantly grumpy. He walks up to you and, to your surprise, gives you a gruff nod and slaps the fee in your hand.

The night's finally come to a close. Looks like you found a job after all, and you think you'll get along quite well with your new colleague as well.