Entering the male locker room, you are awash with the smell of sweat, musk, and most pungently, semen. Seems like the men here either don't like to use soap or perhaps, their scent overwhelms it. In the ladder case, you fear what these locker rooms would be like if they weren't cleaned. Your furred foot makes a wet *splech* as you step in a puddle of cum, looking around, seems like the floors are mostly soiled with semen. There would not be much point into avoiding them so you trod on though it. Just walking in the salty humid mist, already makes you short of breath. for your sake there better be some sort of mach making system to throw you in a fair fight.
Fehago toured the surprisingly large locker areas, row after row of the maze like arrangements. "This place is more like a barracks than a locker room!" Thinking to yourself. As you plodded along on the wet floor, taking care not to slip - as this was leagues worse than a prison shower - you have a strange sensation. You look around the towering figures of all species, cocks being equally varied, some were unusually long, short and fat, bearing pink cock flesh, furred foreskins, balls that dragged to the floor and more. The cocks alone were as varied as the preds that wielded them. Going back to trying to find the locker, Fehago hears the sound of licking lips and faint murrs accompanied by the feeling of a thousand eyes boring into the back of your skull. The weasel turns to look at someone, only for them not to notice... Until the weasel returns to his business, and they give a brief glance to your slender figure.
You turn the corner, and you see a stocky, dark, brown, stallion that was easily more than twice your height. In between his well-built thighs, lies a jet-black cock with a wide flair that was of such length, that it nearly touched the floor! Beginning to feel a bit threatened by your lonesome, you: