[18+] Follow The Stud as he goes throughout the city to make his bread one partner at a time.

Today’s story is the first of two parts of “I’m Just Your Stud” by Dirt Coyote, who, when he’s not causing all sorts of trouble on twitter, is writing a novel, a novella, and short furry fiction. Find him at DirtCoyote on Twitter for future updates.

Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.

This week's two-parter is an adult story for mature listeners.

If that's not your cup of tea,

or if there are youngsters listening,

you can skip these and there'll be new stories for you next week.

You’re listening to The Voice of Dog. I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,

and Today’s story is the first of two parts of

“I’m Just Your Stud”

by Dirt Coyote, who,

when he’s not causing all sorts of trouble on twitter,

is writing a novel,

a novella, and short furry fiction.

Find him at DirtCoyote on Twitter for future updates.

“I’m Just Your Stud”

by DirtCoyote, Part 1

of 2 Ahh, good mornin’ world.

I stir a little, getting wrapped up tighter in my sheets.

Good night world. Mmf,

I’m ready to go back to sleep, but the sun’s been creeping in and cooking my room.

Late risers like me benefit from some AC in the house, but that don’t exactly come standard in the communal apartments I’m staying in. Nah, all I got is my dinky ceiling fan and I don’t leave it on at night cause it gets too cold then.

Guess it wasn’t meant to be. An opossum like me can spend all day slumbering, but it ain’t my day off

and I’ve got people to do.

I get outta bed and a not-so-warm shower wakes me up for the rest of the day.

Slipping on a pair of tight jeans over my pink thong, I grab a white t-shirt and I step outside in the shared kitchen.

Light conversation and hot coffee offset the cold water in my fur

and I’m ready to go.

Ding. What do you know?

Just in time for me to finish my drink and work is ringing me.

Now my day is really starting up and I’m feeling pretty good.

I pull out my phone and click on the notification for the Stud app sitting on top.

While it loads, the screen flashes the Stud logo, a tacky looking mess where the

S is ‘spose to be a raised tail or something.

We get it. I’m a sex worker, though,

they ask all of us to refer to ourselves as Studs.

That might sound cute to some of the higher ups,

but I don’t mind being called a hustler or an escort.

I’m a professional at the end of the day and I’m good at my job.

I’ve got all my shots, so I don’t have to worry about picking up anything other than fleas.

Which, embarrassingly, I’ve gotten not once, not twice, but four times now.

But that was back when I was just starting and jobs took me to shitty motels along the outstretches of town.

Now that I’ve maintained a 4.95 average monthly rating, I’m one of the first guys you see when you turn on the app

and I don’t take any hook-ups in the seedy places no more. When you

deal with me, you better be cleaned,

groomed, and have a fresh set of sheets.

Hold the fleas. A flash and the screen lights up,

throwing up a map along with a picture of a male tiger.

Hey there, handsome.

He looks to be in his early forties or is just taking damn good care of himself.

Sharp dressed in a midnight blue pinstripe suit and a striking red tie, he’s dressed to the nines and gots on a devilishly charming smile.

I read the requested services and think it over for a second.

He ain’t asking for too much,

but he’s in the middle of the city and it’s a Friday. I’m gonna have to take the train which means once I’m out there, there ain’t no coming back early unless I wanna waste the fair.

Ahh, fuck it. City’s better business anyways and I shouldn’t be taking so many

half days. Rent isn’t much,

but I still owe it and I don’t wanna be dipping into my savings just because I’d rather be playing video games instead of earning cash.

I click accept

and give him my time frame for showing up.

It’s well within the slot he’s given me and before I finish looping a rainbow set of earrings in, he’s already agreed.

Money in the bank.

Getting down the high speed rail is a short walk from my building and I arrive at the terminal just in time to catch the 10:25 in.

With a touch of my ID card to the turnstiles, the gate lets me in

and I hurry to a spot towards a cab in the back.

I take the city in for a second coming out of the station,

observing the glass and steel buildings surrounding me.

It’s beautiful,

but expensive and way out of my league.

Seriously, condos are like,

$10,000 a month, so I better off moving along. Also, my tiger’s waiting for me and I ain’t ever once been late for an appointment. Like I said, 4.95 average and part of that is punctuality. Actually, I’m sitting at 4.97 right now and so long as I keep it over 4.96,

all the customer sees

is a perfect five point O.

With my backpack of goodies slung over my shoulder, I mozzie

on down the street until I find the right building.

There’s directions from the tiger in the app about what floor he’s on and which hallway to walk down, but it’s all pretty straight forward.

As I stroll into the reception area, I’m greeted by a mare who’s got a beautiful toothy equine smile that

almost literally lights up the room.

I wave and introduce myself,

“Hello. Yes, I’m Mr. Yardley’s 11:15.”

And the smile is gone.

She doesn’t even need to see the Stud logo on my backpack to know who I am.

She mutters for me to follow without any of that same politeness I was given a second ago.

Don’t get mad at me, sweetheart. I’m just doing my

job. By the way that she’s sizing me up, I can sense a bit of jealousy.

She probably had my job up until HR got a whiff of what was going on in the back rooms.

Ain’t my fault policy’s gotta problem with management fucking the receptionist, but turns a blind eye letting me walk up in here

to handle some workday stress.

Heck, I’m probably on the company card.

At least she holds the door open for me as I step into his corner office.

He’s got one finger up for me and I can’t tell if he’s in the middle of a conference call or panic attack.

Taking my time to get comfortable, I lock the door behind me and shudder the windows facing out to the rest of the office while he click-clacks away at the keyboard. ‘Bout

a minute of this and I’m getting antsy waiting on him.

Maybe I should start stripping off some clothes all sexylike to encourage him to speed things the fuck up.

I can tell that his call is wrapping up,

so I lean into the desk

and give him googly eyes until he hangs up.

“Sorry about that,”

he apologizes to me stiffly before slouching in his chair

exhausted. “Meetings all day and I just really need something to take the edge off.”

“No problem. Clothes on or clothes off?”

“On. Gotta wrap this up fast before my next call.”

Clothes on it is. Mine, at least.

I sit my bag down onto a leather loveseat while he adjusts himself in chair.

Guy’s loaded, or at least his company is.

The dark cherrywood desk and matching credenza behind him

accents the plush red carpet neatly.

I glance to the windows facing outside, but there’s no curtains.

Some people enjoy having an audience for people to appreciate my work,

but like the clothes,

he doesn’t seem to give a rat’s ass.

He’s just waiting for me patiently as I walk around the desk and rest my rump on its edge.

The tiger’s wearing a suit

just like the one in his profile

picture, but no tie today.

Instead, he’s popped open the top button of his shirt and pulling off a few more to show me some chest fur.

Not gonna lie, but I’ve got a preference for the big predators and he’s kinda getting me going

too. What can I say? Little opossums such as myself like a big man to take care of them every now and then.

White fur drapes out and he touches a paw to sternum, stroking himself while he waits.

Oh right, I guess I got a job to do, don’t I?

There’s no part in it for me to be enjoying myself, so I need to focus up and get going.

He ain’t making a move to his crotch, so I guess he’s expecting me to work for it.

That’s ok. That’s why I’m getting paid.

Down on my knees, I grab hold of his pants button and shimmy it loose before unzipping his fly.

Guy’s got on some brass silk boxers,

so he definitely either planned this from the start of his day

or traded into them at some point. That, or maybe he just likes the feel, I guess?

They’re gaudy as all h ell,

and honestly, just kinda in my way. Let’s get a looksie.

I reach up and wrap both paws into his waistband,

careful not to pull any fur

as I tug them all the way down.

Aw, heck. He’s a big guy.

That’s the problem with these apps.

Customers get to know every single detail about me before they place their order,

but I just get to go off services requested, a profile pic, and a map.

It doesn’t make sense if you ask me,

but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

I’d rather not start my day off with a sore jaw, but I’ve trained for this and it’s certainly not the biggest cock I’ve choked down.

Paw wrapped around his shaft, I stroke up and down along his nine inches of barbs until I can get some pre going.

Working his pre into his sensitive skin,

I slicken him up before reaching forward and giving him a long kiss over his red tip. That earns me several new pearls that I lap up greedily. He likes that! Hopefully his doors are thicker than they look, ‘cause he’s purring like he’s got a v8 hiding in his chest.

Panting myself, I’m inhaling all of his scent and

it’s making my eyes see stars.

I can barely hold myself back before I wrap my lips around his shaft and run my tongue in circles around his length.

He puts a paw to the back of my head and helps guide me down his cock.

Careful with the claws there, tough guy!

Don’t wanna go damaging company property. Alright,

I shouldn’t joke like that, but he’s really digging those tips into my skull.

Looking up, I clear my throat and he gets it instantly.

Must be a regular problem cause he removes his paw altogether and settles it on the armrest.

Before I keep going though,

I notice him reach his other paw to his desk, slapping something down against the wood before

relaxing himself. Oh ho ho,

don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, buddy.

But that’s beside my business,

so I get to work. With my tongue expertly running down the veins of his shaft,

I glide my muzzle up and down his length.

His fat head just barely fits in my throat,

flaring up to deposit more pre in my gullet.

It throbs inside my muzzle,

but I keep it clear from my teeth and my rhythm steady.

My paws fondle his balls, playing with the

heavy white orbs between my fingers.

He really wants to grab me and slam me down.

I can hear his claws dragging curves into the plastic underneath.

Good thing he won’t have to, cause I go down myself, taking in all of his shaft until it hilts right into the back of my throat.

My muzzle isn’t quite long enough to hold in his entire dick, but I angle myself so he can continue to push deep into me.

Moans and whimpers escape out into the office and there’s no doubt in my mind everyone on the other side of that door knows what’s going on. “Fffffuuuuuuck.”

Only his moans for warning, he slams a fist into his chair and I feel cum splash out straight into my gut.

Holy crap, he really was pent up!

I’m taken aback, forced to drink up as much as I can before

it can shoot outta my nostrils.

My lips wrap around him tightly, keeping everything inside as I drag his head back into my mouth.

It continues to spurt cum against my tongue, but I gulp

it down faster than it comes out.

I suckle on his tip to drain his balls of every last drop.

Don’t wanna ruin that pretty suit he’s got on.

When he finally settles down,

I open my maw wide so he can see his cock balancing neatly on my tongue.

A few drops puddle up, but he’s not quite paying attention.

The tiger’s eyes are half open,

staring off into space before he slowly comes to

when I lap up what he’s left for me.

Licking him clean,

I help his shaft back into his boxers

and pull them up for him.

Didn’t miss a single drop.

“Wow, you’re really good,”

he mutters as I get to my feet.

I know. Okay, I’m more modest than that.

I thank him for the compliment

and wish him best of luck with his meetings for the day.

Still bathing in his afterglow, he mostly just

waves me out and

makes some mention of a tip.

Not a bad way to kick off my day, and my jaw isn’t feeling a quarter bad as I thought it might feel.

As I leave his office though,

I notice the picture frame knocked over on his desk. Right.

Walking out of the office, I pull my phone out and say some nice things to the receptionist on my way out.

She wishes me a bright rest of my day, so I guess

no hard feelings.

Well, for her. I bring up my Stud app and when it loads, there’s five empty stars ready for me to fill out.

I give him three and click the send button.

Now, you might be asking what went wrong, but nothing went wrong.

I don’t work with cheaters.

No, not cheetahs. I ain’t no speciesist.

Adulterers. It’s not that I have any problems with what anyone wants to do in their free time— Well, that’s not true.

It’s a little scummy and I’m not a big fan of it, but not only that:

It’s also bad for my health.

There was one time I was pounding away at this twinky wolf when his six foot five rabbit boyfriend comes barging in the room. Starts screaming and swinging at me and I have to practically dive out a window in nothing but my chonies.

Never again. Out of curiosity I check his score, and, lo and behold, he’s still sitting at the 4.9 I walked in with.

He must be ordering Studs quite a bit for my rating not to shift his average even a tenth of a point.

That’s alright though, cause the three stars just guarantees that I’ll never show up in his app again.

Some other boy can do their dealings with him,

and that ain’t none of my business.

Stepping out into the street again,

I remember exactly where in the FiDi I am and get excited.

There’s a killer froyo spot just a couple alleys up,

and I haven’t had them in a full week.

Strawberry banana with granola and almonds is already making my mouth water until

—Ding. My shoulders drop

and I look at my phone.

Of course! High dollar client making a request for services rendered ASAP and he’s deep into the city.

If I wanna make it, I gotta hop onto the nearest bus.

Sorry tummy. Guess it wasn’t meant to be.

I accept the request and spin around in a circle to orient myself, before remembering

a bus stop near me.

The driver opens the door just in time for me to arrive.

Taxes on those condos I mentioned early

pay my fair, so all I give the German Shepherd behind the wheel is a smile.

Ooo la la! He catches the rainbow set of earrings I got on and gives me this lusty smile.

Sorry fella, but I’m on the clock,

but you can buy me that drink any other time.

I pick a spot where I can look out the window,

my muzzle almost pressed to the glass.

The bus prepares its slow climb to the heights, and I fixate on the buildings passing by.

Skyscrapers break for complexes as we move through the inner city.

Those apartments might be within my budget, but they’re soulless and kinda run down.

I was lucky enough to get the tiny commune I’m in, though,

I think they accepted my application mostly for my prior work experience.

Right, I should probably mention that.

Back in the sticks, before I was getting ordered around by an algorithm, I used to be a kindergarten teacher.

Whodathunk?

Actually, second thought, fuck you, pal! I was damn good at my job, and the cubs loved me!

I’m great with the kids and if the damn district didn’t mix up my paperwork when I moved out here, I would be doing that instead.

The only reason why I got into this job was that I needed some quick cash and didn’t have a car to go driving chumps around all day.

Signed up with Stud, found some undiscovered talents, and the rest is history.

I guess I could go back to the classroom.

Could’ve reapplied at any point these past two years,

but waking up at 5am wasn’t really my thing to begin with.

I kinda miss the tykes sometimes though,

and you should see me in my blue checkered shirt and bow

tie. Add the glasses, remove the earrings, and I go from sexy male order hustler to dorky ass opossum getting mauled by a dozen noisy brats. Can’t think about that now.

I jump out about a block away from the clients house.

This neighborhood is cushy as all hell.

White tightly packed two story homes stand over the rest of the city like they’re

looking down their noses at it.

I suspect these are a lot of old money families passing these houses down throughout their lineage.

Most of the tech, researcher, and investor folks stick to places more lively than these quiet parts.

He answers almost as soon as I knock and my

jaw just about drops off.

He’s so much more gorgeous than his profile pic gives him credit for.

This snow white arctic fox is standing in the doorway with nothing but a bathrobe on.

Groomed and scented pleasantly, he stands the exact same 5’4 as me

with a gentle but nervous smile.

Fingers tangled up, he greets me

and invites me inside bashfully, taking a quick peek outside as if to make sure the neighbors didn’t see.

Hun, you have no right using an app like this.

Go out and get it for free at the clubs like everyone else.

I wanna tell him that, but then I’d be out a job and this one

is easy money. Also,

I get it. Short guys like us get nervous sometimes when we’re surrounded by big bustling bulls and

hungry eyed wolves on the prowl.

This is easy and he’s got the money to pay for it,

so why not get exactly what you want without any of the guesswork of hook-ups.

Besides, this one really knows what he’s looking for.

“Clothes on or clothes off?”

“Would you mind taking yours off, please?”

Puh-lease? Look at that! You got it, champ. I pull my shirt over my head as he leads me down the hall to his bedroom.

There’s a bench on the end of the bed for me to sit my clothes and backpack on while he sprawls himself out on the bed.

Instead of pulling off his bathrobe,

he opens it up and shows me his beautiful cloudlike body over the satin red sheets.

His head goes back,

the pink tip of his cock poking out of his white furred sheath.

Hey, don’t get too comfortable, cutie.

You got some decisions to make. He ain’t

so much interested in my package, not that I have a whole lot to offer him.

I’m not even hard yet when I fold my shorts and thong onto the bench I’m kneeling on.

Even if I was fully erect,

I don’t come up much larger than four inches and this boy needs something big in him.

Don’t worry your cute little head.

I brought back up.

Reaching into my backpack,

I pull out my not-so-tiny team of helpers one by one.

In my right paw, there’s Timmy the Tiger.

In my left paw is Willy the Wolf

and Hayden the Horse.

Last but not least,

I’m holding up Fanny the Fantastical Dragon in my tail for the vulpine to see.

They’re five, six, eight, and ten inches long respectively and get substantially wider the bigger they get.

He seems hesitant to make a choice,

glossing over them back and forth,

but I see the one that he keeps side glancing to.

Gotcha covered, kid. Tossing three of the dildos in my paws into the backpack,

I reach one paw across the bed and grab hold of his ankle.

Come’re lil’ fella.

He slides effortlessly across his satin sheets, squirming slightly and yipping as I bring him all the way to the bed’s edge.

Aw, don’t be so scared.

I ain’t gonna hurt’cha.

That’d cost ya extra.

Behind me is the dildo bobbing in the air, waving around tauntingly while I bring lube out and squirt it all over my fingers.

With one paw, I grab hold of his emerging shaft, stroking his pink tip and coaxing more out of his sheath.

He closes his eyes and murmurs softly as I reach down and finger at his sensitive opening.

Whimpers fill the room

as his chest lifts

and falls in excited anticipation of what’s coming next.

One finger; no problem.

Two, three fingers; still pretty good.

Four, five; No biggie?

Jeez, the stretching exercises on some of these foxes.

Alright, buddy. Let’s do this.

My tail brings Fanny over to me like an assistant handing tools to a mechanic.

Thank you, nurse. It’s heavy in my paws, but definitely not going to be a problem for my cute friend here. Rubbing my paws up and down the length, I get it nice and lubed

before lining the pointed reptilian head against his tailhole.

That gets a teeny tiny gasp from him and stretches into a long deep moan by the time it’s halfway in.

His tongue’s dangling out the side of his muzzle

and his eyes are rolled up into the back of his head.

The satin sheets

are no match for his sharp claws shredding into them. Psh,

rich kids. Give my right nut to be sleeping on a bed this soft with sheets like that.

I push another three inches into him quick,

getting a high pitched squeal from him.

A little too fast, but he’ll survive.

With the dildo mostly in him,

I can just focus on getting him off.

Both my paws work in tandem,

one keeping a steady rhythm stroking him up and down while the other pumps the toy in and out of him.

My tail joins in,

wrapping around his ankle to keep him close as I stuff the fox.

I loom over him, reading his pants and whines like a second language only I’m fluent with.

Just a teensy bit faster with the strokes,

add some knot squeezes in there,

let the toy drag in him a bit slower, tickle his soles with the tip of my tail and suddenly, BLAM! His knot

snot slaps up against the bottom of my chin with an audible splat.

Whoops, guess I should be careful where I aim this thing.

Angling him upwards, I let this fox frost himself in icing while I continue to ride out his orgasm.

From the expression of shock on his muzzle,

even he’s surprised I got him to cum so fast.

He doesn’t try questioning it

as he leans back into his bed

and lets the afterglow set in.

“Woah, that was fantastic.

You’re really good,”

he lets out like a sigh.

You hear that? I’ve started a trend.

I accept the compliment

and give him one of my own remarking about the jizz he’s left slabbed on my muzzle.

He chuckles and apologizes,

but before I can begin to get us cleaned up,

he’s got something else to ask me.

I can see it on his face before he even opens his mouth and part of me gets ready to kill his mood.

“Would it be alright if I asked you to lick up the cum on my body, please?”

There it is. Well,

the simple answer: No.

How many times have you ordered a hammer in a hardware store and just expected the nails to come free?

I got my rates and you can order them whenever you’d like.

Complicated answer:

It doesn’t cost me nothin’ to just lean in and lick it up.

If I know that I can squeeze out that thirty bucks just to suck up some cum, I’m gonna do it.

But this fox has been cute

and he did say please,

which I probably only hear once a week or so at most.

I crawl over and say in a low seductive growl,

“Sure. Why not?” He’s lucky I like him.

Leaning over, I reach down and begin lapping up the pools of cum in his fur.

He’s a tad salty, but otherwise pleasant tasting.

The best part is the feel of the soft fur touching against my nose

and the closeness of his body while I’m crawling over him.

Something about this feels right,

natural, and sorta secure.

As I’m cleaning up the last drops from his chest,

he’s staring down at me with these beautiful crystal eyes.

I smile back, feeling flushed at the cheeks.

The magic hangs only for a second until I make out the lusty smile curving up his lips and the arched eyebrow.

Oh, hello again. His stiffness is rubbing against my belly and before I can even get back into position,

he’s diving for his phone on the nightstand.

I chuckle as I pull my pants off the bench

and give him five stars so he can order me one more time.

See! It pays to throw in a little something something on the side.

After accepting his request,

I toss my phone to the side

and dive into the fox for one more round.

Hey, not a bad start to my day, if I say so myself.

This was the the first of two parts of

“I’m Just Your Stud”

by Dirt Coyote, read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion. Tune

in next time to find out how The Stud finishes his day in the city

and works his way back home.

As always, you can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,

or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.

Thank you for listening

to The Voice of Dog.