Friday, June 30th, 2006 — Samwell Parker, age 9

     My name’s Samwell, but all my friends call me Sammy. I live at home with my dad and my older sister Tracey. We’re red foxes, and proud of it!
     My dad’s like my hero. He’s funny and awesome, and we have lots of fun games we play together. He says that they’re grown up games, but that I’m almost a grown up and I’m big enough to play them with him. And he’s got a big old grey tummy that’s perfect for taking naps on sometimes. He usually even takes a nap with me ‘cause he works all day long as a policeman and then he has to come home and take care of us kids. My momma passed away when I was four years old so ever since then it’s just been us three.
     My sister used to be cool but lately she’s been kind of a bitch. At least that’s what my dad calls her. She used to hang out with me a lot and help me with my homework and play video games and stuff  with me, but not really anymore. She’s always just in her room by herself or with her boyfriend. But her boyfriend only comes over when dad’s not home.
     His name’s Scott. He’s pretty cool, too. He’s a Doberman and plays on the football team. But me and my dad always liked baseball better. 
     Today’s Friday, and on Monday I get to go to summer camp at the Y with my friends, Todd and Teddy Bear, who I haven’t seen since school let out ‘cause Tracey never lets my friends come over when she’s watching me. She says we’re too loud and she doesn’t want to have to watch so many kids. But she’s always in her room anyway smoking her funny cigarettes so I don’t know what the big deal is.
     Today she has her boyfriend over as usual and she told me not to bother her under any circustentses or something like that, so I’m all by myself with nothing to do but kick rocks or play video games. I’m not even allowed to call Teddy or Todd ‘cause she says the phone has to be open in case dad calls. But she has a cell phone. I think it’s just ‘cause she hates me.
     They’re in her room and I’m hungry and bored of playing my Nintendo 64 and I really want a snack. So I walk up to her door and step in when I’m immediately pelted by a pillow.
     “Sammy! What the fuck?!” 
     She’s got her hands wrapped around Scott’s thingy ‘cause I guess she was giving him a blowie. She’s sitting on the floor between his legs and his wiener’s all hard. It’s so big. Much bigger than my dad’s. I’m staring at it wide-eyed, so I hardly notice Tracey coming towards me. Sadly, Scott finally notices I’m here and covers his privates with a pillow. 
     I look at Tracey, who’s madder than I’ve ever seen her before. She’s got her shirt off so she’s only wearing her skirt. Her boobies catch my attention ‘cause they’re jiggling as she rushes to me. I’ve never really seen boobies before besides on the internet a few times. Not even Tracey’s. But I guess I had to have seen my momma’s boobies when I was a kit ‘cause that’s how she fed me.
     “Get out! I told you not to bother me!”
     “But I’m hungry and I can’t reach the freezer.”
     “I don’t care! Get some cereal! I’m busy!”
     “I don’t want cereal! I want a Hot Pocket!”
     “Ugh!”
     She must have realized that she was have naked ‘cause she sort of yips and covers up her nipples. She storms over to where Scott is still laying with his shirt off and his jeans and undies around his ankles. She finds her bra and shirt and starts dressing. 
     “You got a pretty cool knot, Scott.”
     I guess no one ever told him he had a cool knot or something ‘cause his mouth hangs open and he doesn’t say anything. Tracey turns around and screams. 
     “Sammy! What the fuck? That’s so gross! Go to the kitchen!”
     “You were the one playing with it!”
     “I know, but—Where did you even learn that word? I—Just go!”
     She’s holding her shirt over her boobs with one hand and pointing angrily with the other. Her voice scares me when she screams “go!”, and I’m starting to feel tears form in my eyes so I run to the kitchen like she tells me.
     I’m waiting for a few seconds fighting off the tears before she comes into the kitchen. I’m a big boy now, and big boys don’t cry, my dad always says.
     Tracey doesn’t say anything as she grabs a box of Hot Pockets from the freezer and starts setting one up on a paper plate. Ham and cheese. I wish it was five cheese pizza instead.
     “I want two!”
     She still doesn’t say anything as she opens the second Hot Pocket and slides it into the shiny paper envelope. 
     “What were you and Scott doing?”
     “I don’t want to talk about it, Sam.”
     “Were you giving him a blowie?”
     I guess I’m right ‘cause she looks like she got caught red-handed yet again. She freezes in time for a second before she turns to me. She didn’t even finish typing in the numbers on the microwave. It says 00:33. 
     “Where did you learn these things, Sam?”
     From daddy. But he said I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone that. Or else.
     “Um, internet?”
     She sighs, buying my lie. She takes a deep breath and finishes starting up the microwave.
     “God, of course,” she says before sighing again. “Yes, okay? I was giving him a ‘blowie’. A... a blowjob. But you’re too young to know about that shit. To be seeing that kind of thing on the internet. Your... stuff probably doesn’t even work yet.” She pointed at my privates.
     “It does work! I promise!”
     “Ew, I don’t—I mean, good for you, I guess, but—I don’t need to know about that. Just. Keep it to yourself.”
     I’m quiet and kind of disappointed ‘cause I thought she’d be proud of me. I guess that’s guy stuff for only dads and their sons to talk about. Not brothers and sisters.
     “So, um, can I watch you give a blowie?”
     “What? No!”
     “Please!”
     “Absolutely not!”
     “Please!”
     “No! That’s weird. Just go watch some porn if you wanna—jerk off or whatever. If you’ve already seen it once you might as well see it again.”
     “But I just wanna learn how you do it so I can get better at it.” Oops. I think I said too much.
     “Jesus! What are you, a faggot? You don’t need to be sucking anyone’s dick for a long time. You’re nine years old for Christ’s sake. You don’t need to learn how to give a blowjob from anyone yet, let alone your fucking sister.”
     I guess this is why dad calls her a bitch.
     “But I—”
     “No, go to your room!”
     “But my Hot Pockets!”
     “Ugh! Fine! Get them yourself!” 
     She storms off and slams her door. My tail is tucked tightly against my butt and the tip of it tickles my knees. I’m looking down at my feet when the microwave beeps. A single tear drips down onto one of my toes. I sniffle and take my Hot Pockets into my room.
     I end up playing my GameBoy Color in bed for the rest of the afternoon. I heard Tracey and Scott fighting for a little bit before their shouts turned into grunts. I know what they’re doing because Scott’s making the same noises dad makes when he’s—well, you know. I start to get tingly down there thinking about it. I wish they would’ve just let me watch. I would’ve been quieter than a fox in church. 
     What exactly are they doing, I wonder? Is he putting it in her butt? Or her... pussy? What’s her face look like when he’s got her really feeling good? Is he going to put that big old knot of his inside her? I kinda wish I could’ve felt his knot. Or at least looked at it a little longer.
     I start to rub myself through my pajamas ‘cause I’ve got a stiffy and it sure as heck ain’t going anywhere while I can still hear Scott and Tracey doing their thing.
     I’m in the middle of a daring gym battle on Pokémon Gold and I’ve got two Pokémon left. But Tracey starts to loudly whimper as the thumping of the bed gets faster. And I can’t get the image of Scott’s big knot out of my head, thinking about him squeezing it into Tracey’s tight little—
     My thoughts turned to my dad and his knot. He told me one day when I’m older he’ll let me try to take it in my butt. But these days we stick to using our mouths and our fingers. Thinking about finally feeling my dad inside me... now that’s what finally makes me give up on my gym battle and undo the tie on my sleep pants. I just changed the batteries so it should be good for a while since I can’t save it and turn it off. 
     I turn on my bedside lamp and watch my weenie twitching underneath my tightie whities in the soft glow. I always like to look at myself while I rub it. My dad doesn’t—he closes his eyes when I do it to him like he was wishing I was someone else. But he usually pets me and gives me kisses and tummy rubs afterwards.
     “Oh, Scott!”
     I pull my shirt up and tuck it in my mouth so I can see my belly rising and falling like a wave at the beach. My stiffy is at full mast now and it’s making my undies stick up like a tent. I love rubbing my privates nice and slow while I’m still wearing my undies. The fabric tickles the fur on my nuts and my sheath real nice and it makes me twitch my toes inside my socks.
     Finally after a few minutes of light massaging I can’t take it anymore and pull my undies down too. I tuck the elastic part underneath my balls so that they’re all nice and plump and mine for the taking. The small pink tip of my wiener is poking out from the end of my sheath. I poke at it and it kind of waves at me, as if to say hello.
     I do the trick my dad taught me to get the pink part to come out more. I wish he was home already so he could do it for me. It feels a lot better when he does it. 
     I pull my sheath all the way down. I can feel my knot there, at the bottom, under my fur. I’ve only been able to get it out of my sheath once so far, and my dad did it for me so I don’t think I’d be able to do it myself. It kinda hurt a bit at first, but once I finally got it out it felt soooo great. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Daddy told me I had an organism.
     I’m holding my sheath down with my left hand so the pink part of my weenie is showing. A breeze rolls in from my open window and tickles the skin. I shudder and gasp and grab my dick—my wiener—with my other hand. It still feels kinda weird to call it a dirty word like that. Even though my dad calls it other things, like his cock or his meat. I’m trying to get used to it ‘cause my dad likes it when I use dirty words like that. But I always preferred to say “wiener”. It’s just more fun to say.
     Tracey lets out a big yelp and then starts moaning like a ghost in a scary movie. It sounds like he’s hurting her, but I know better. I start to rub faster now. I imagine Scott’s knot inside her, throbbing and pulsing like daddy’s does when he squirts. I wonder what it would feel like to have that happen inside. My daddy’s stuck his finger in my butt a few times before, and his tongue a few times too, and I liked it, so I figure I would like it even more if it was his wiener. His... cock.
     My weenie’s stiff enough now that it stays out all on its own, so I don’t have to hold my sheath down anymore. I take my left hand and start rubbing my balls instead, feeling them jiggle and moving around in their sack. It feels better when dad does it. It’s kinda like when you try to tickle your own armpit but it doesn’t even make you giggle even a little bit. I can’t even make the sparkles happen by myself yet. Only daddy can do that for me.
     So I’m rubbing and pawing myself as fast as I can, trying to make the sparkles come out like I’m trying to start a fire but nothing happens. Eventually I’m just lying there with both my arms sore and listening to my own heavy breaths being drowned out by the final few grunts and screams that came out of Tracey’s room. I turn the light out. The gym leader theme music still plays quietly from my GameBoy. I guess at some point I fall asleep, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling.

*   *   *

     I wake up to more screaming, this time of anger and not pleasure.
     I’m not really listening, I never pay much attention when Tracey and dad fight, but I do hear a few things they’re saying. I realize my pants are still down and my weenie went back into its sheath but I just let it all hang out in the wind while I wake up. The music on my GameBoy stopped and it’s sitting on my bedside table now. I guess my dad or Tracey must’ve come in while I was sleeping and turned it off. I hope I saved before my gym battle.
     “I can smell it!”
     “Dad, we weren’t—I wasn’t doing anything!”
     “You think I wouldn’t know? That I wouldn’t smell it?”
     “What are you talking about? I was here all day with Sammy!”
     “The pot, Trace. The sex. I could smell the stink of cum and pot from the fucking front lawn! You know what would happen if someone found out my daughter’s smoking that shit? I’m a cop, Tracey. I—”
     “Don’t try to act all high and mighty with me, dad. It’s better than drinking and you know it. You come home drunk every night—driving drunk! You’re drunk right now! I can smell it. So don’t—”
     “Don’t you dare talk back to me, you bitch, I raised you all by myself—”
     I stop listening and tuck my privates back into my underwear. My pajama pants are still down around my knees but I don’t care. I can still hear them yelling but I roll over and try to go back to sleep. I’m almost in dreamland when I hear the door slam and my dad shout a final “Fine!”. Tracey’s car pulls away with a squeal—I can tell it’s hers ‘cause it takes a few tries to start up. A minute or so goes by before a tiny strip of light shines on me from the door. It’s my dad. I pretend to still be asleep as the light from the hallway lights up my room and then disappears when the door clicks shut.
     “Hey, buddy,” he whispers. I can feel him sit down on the bed next to me. His hand starts to rub my back, then my butt. I moan and adjust, ‘playing hard to get’, as my dad would say. I roll over on my back, pretending to be asleep, and knowing that the sight of my private parts underneath my briefs would drive dad crazy. It always does, he tells me. 
     As I expected, he takes the bait and puts his hand on my thigh, just above my knee. He tickles my knee and I jerk and can’t help but giggle a little bit.
     “I knew you weren’t sleeping,” he says with a smile.
     “I wanted to surprise you!”
     “You aren’t a very good faker.”
     “Aw, but I was trying my best.”
     “Okay, I guess I was fooled for a second there. But just for a second.” He starts rubbing my thigh again, and I can feel a little tingle at the bottom of my wiener. His hand moves from my thigh and he sticks his hand up the front of my undies, petting my hip, dangerously close to touching my sheath. 
     “Daddy? Will you take my knot out again?”
     “Were you a good boy for Tracey today?”
     “I guess.” 
     “Was she a good girl?”
     I don’t say anything at first. I already know he knows what she and Scott were doing. Sex. That’s what the grown-ups call it. 
     “I guess.”
     “I bet she was.”
     He leans down on top of me and gives me a kiss on my forehead. He takes his hand out of my underwear and starts giving me belly rubs instead. 
     “So does that mean you’ll help me get my knot out?”
     “Sure, bud. I’ll help you. But you gotta help me out too, right?”
     I nod my head. This is the way it’s always been with us. Tit for tat. He usually gets his tits first. 
     “Alright, bud.”
     He stands up and takes his blue shirt off, so he’s standing there in his sweaty white tank top and his dark blue pants. He doesn’t shower or change before leaving work, usually. He knows he’ll just get sweaty and sticky again later if he decides to play with me.
     He undoes his belt and steps out of his pants. He wears loose boxers so I can never see what’s underneath. Until he takes them off, that is. But he always likes to tease me first.
     He comes over and pulls my sleep pants the rest of the way off in a flash. I giggle ‘cause it makes my legs and butt lift up off the bed and bounce back down a few times. He lets out a scary snarl that I’ve learned is just his way of saying he really loves me. I cover my privates like I’m embarrassed, even though I’m still wearing my underwear and I’m not actually embarrassed at all. I just think it makes him happy when I pretend like I’m scared or embarrassed. I don’t really know why he likes it, but I like making him happy. ‘Cause he’s scary when he’s angry, like the Hulk. He doesn’t usually get angry at me, just Tracey, but he got angry the first time he tried to play with me, ‘cause I didn’t want to and I didn’t understand how the game worked. But I learned to like it ‘cause I didn’t want to make him turn into the Hulk again. And it is fun once you get used to how it feels. And how it tastes.
     He’s on top of me now, and I can smell the beers he had at the bar. Dad let me drink two whole beers once. I liked the taste but it made me feel funny. He’s kissing my neck and tickling my shoulders with his chin scruff. I’m wiggling underneath him, and his chest is pressed up against my private parts, which are starting to get stiff and tingly again. He must be too, ‘cause while I’m wiggling, my feet accidentally kick against his wiener, which is poking out from the fly of his boxers. He leans up like he’s about to do a push up and looks into my eyes. He smiles and gives me a big long lick on my cheek.
     I know what he wants me to do. I wrap both my feet around daddy’s... cock. He loves it when I do that. I don’t know why, I think it’s kind of gross. My feet always stink ‘cause I don’t change my socks much. I’m a kid, my dad says. I don’t have to worry about smelling good yet. I think he just likes it when I’m a little stinky.
     Maybe if my dad rubbed his feet on my weenie I would get it. But his feet are so big that they’re twice the size of my wiener, even with the knot out. Maybe when I’m older.
     He hangs his head and begins to pant, drooling on my face a little bit. 
     “Jeeeezus Wheezus, kid. You really know how to crank my gears.”
     I don’t really know what that means, but I smile anyway ‘cause I know I’m doing a good job when he drools like that. I move my feet a little lower and squeeze his knot with them. He shudders, panting again.
     He reaches down and pulls his boxers down just enough so I can see his pink part and his soft ballsack. He does the trick he showed me and pops his knot out like it was nothing. I hope I can do it like that some day.
     “Come on, do it again,” he says, almost whimpering. I go back to rubbing him with my socked feet and he says “mmm” like he just ate a slice of yummy pizza. He starts moving his hips slowly back and forth so his dick is rubbing against my feet. I feel my whole bed moving with him, thumping the wood part against the wall like Scott was doing earlier. I wonder if Scott ever makes Tracey rub him with her feet. 
     He’s drooling on me again, and his wiener’s drooling too, dripping clear stuff my dad calls pre-cum down onto the front of my undies. It’s like the calm before the storm, he says. It means he’s feeling good, and he’s about to have his sparkles. When it drips on my underwear, it’s warm and wet at first, and then it starts to dry and gets cold and sticky. But I like how it feels.
     He takes one of my socks off so I’m rubbing him with my bare paw. I wonder which feels nicer, my sock or my paw pads? Dad takes my sock and puts his up to his nose, sniffing it hard like it’s a fresh baked slice of apple pie. He starts drooling again, out both ends. He growls like a hunter who’s spotted his prey.
     I like making him drool like a little puppy. My dad’s not always a bad guy, even when he’s like the Hulk, or when he has too many beers. I know he loves me deep down even if he says mean things or gives me a spanking. But seeing my dad act like a kit again and just having fun makes me smile and makes my wiener tingle too. 
     He’s leaning against the wall with one hand, holding my sock up to his snout with the other, and letting my feet do the all work. Suddenly, he pulls away like a bee stung him and moves down to rest his forehead on my chest. 
     “Sorry, Sam. I was about to cum.”
     “But I thought you liked it when you cum? Isn’t that when the sparkles come out?”
     “Yes, yes it is. And I do, but... I’m not done with you just yet.”
     He grabs the back of my head and forces me into a kiss. Not the kind on the cheek that he gives me when he drops me off at school, but a deep kiss with tongues and stuff like the grown-ups do on TV. He gets halfway up and is leaning over me again. He puts his hand down the front of my undies, grabbing my whole private area with his one hand. He squeezes my balls and at the same time tickles my sheath with his palm. The pink part is already sticking halfway out. 
     I squirm and yip. It feels good.
     “You like playing footsies with your dad, then, eh?”
     I nod and he rubs my sheath.
     “Does it make you hungry, playing with your dad?”
     I know I had Hot Pockets earlier, but he’s not talking about dinner. He’s talking about a blowie. I nod again.
     “Come here, baby. Get your milk.” He scoots up so he’s practically sitting on my chest and prods at the front of my muzzle with the tip of his private part. I guess it’s not so private right now, though, huh?
     I keep my lips closed tight and shake my head no. A day’s worth of sweat and musk hangs in front of my nose. His boxers are almost as stinky as my feet.
     “Come on, aren’t you hungry?”
     He takes his wiener in his hand and boops me on the nose with it a few times.
     “Open up, here comes the choo-choo train!”
     This makes me laugh, and as soon as my mouth opens I feel him slide into my mouth. I look up at him, but his eyes are closed. I wish he would look at me sometimes so I could know if I’m doing good.
     “Aahhh... there we go, baby. Just keep it open nice and wide for daddy. That’s it. That’s daddy’s good boy.”
     I smile when he calls me a good boy and open wider for him. The tip of my snout is touching his knot and the tip of his cock is almost touching the back of my throat. Dad sucks his breath in like he dipped his toe into an ice-cold swimming pool.
     “Hoo... I’m real close already, kid.”
     I take that as my cue to start giving it my all.
     I start suckling like a kit at his momma’s teat, and rub his saggy balls with my hand. After about half a minute, I change my mind and grab on his knot real tight with both my hands. That does the trick.
     “Oh, f—fffuck!”
     Dad starts thrusting his hips again, making me gag, but I’m a good boy so I stay right where I am waiting for him to be done. He always pulls out and cums all over my face and belly and chest when we do this, only getting a little bit in my mouth so I can have a taste. But this time he doesn’t. He just thrusts really hard one last time with a  loud grunt. My nose presses into his belly and his balls slap me on the bottom of my chin. His knot is trying its hardest to squeeze past my lips and into my mouth.
     I don’t taste or feel the cum at first ‘cause it starts at the back of my throat. But it starts to be too much and it fills my mouth with the weird salty taste. I cough and cough, trying to push him off of me, trying to push his dick out of my mouth but it’s no use. He’s too strong. I’m pounding my fists on his belly now, and his cum is starting to leak out the sides of my mouth and soak into the fur of my cheeks. I cough some more and I think I even feel some cum squirt out from my nose. I stop trying to cough and instead try to start swallowing. This must be what it feels like to be drowning, I think. You don’t know whether to hold your breath or not. 
     I can feel myself starting to cry, because I’m a little scared and I can’t breathe. Daddy finally pulls his wiener out, letting a few more little streams of cum squirt out onto my face. I cough and spit. There’s so much cum in my mouth it’s like I’m throwing up almost. Sorry. I know that’s a little gross but it’s true.
     When I can finally breathe again, I look up at my dad. He’s pressing his forehead against the wall, panting and trying to catch his breath like me. He isn’t looking at me, but his dick is still hard and twitching against my neck. He wipes it clean with the sock he still has balled up in his paw. I start bawling my eyes out. I can’t help it. I’m just too overwelled. Or whatever that word is.
     My dad finally pays attention to me when I start crying.
     “Shhh, sh-sh-shh. Big boys don’t cry, remember?”
     I can’t stop, though. My face is covered with warm cum and hot tears.
     “Come on, be quiet. It’s over. I thought you liked being daddy’s good boy?”
     I can’t catch my breath. I’m sobbing and wailing and howling when dad snaps my muzzle shut with a strong paw. 
     “Shut up, you little brat! Why are you crying? Only faggots and sissies cry like that. You’re better than this. Come on.” 
     He lets go of me and I sniffle and whine. He’s usually not mean like this when I do what he tells me to and make him happy, but he hates it when I cry like a little baby. I do my best to stop the tears from falling but they’re burning my eyes like someone’s chopping onions.
     He gets up off the bed and pulls up his boxers. I try to talk but my mouth and throat are still sticky with cum from my dad and snot from crying. When I finally manage to say something, my voice is sticky too.
     “Are—are you gonna get my knot out for me now?” He sighs at me as I wipe the tears from my eyes.
     “No, Sammy. It’s getting late now. And you’ve got to wash up. You’ve got school tomorrow.”
     “But dad, tomorrow’s Saturday. And it’s summer. And you promised.”
     “Sam, I—”
     “Please?”
     He sighs again. 
     “Fine, but after this get right in the bath and go right to bed.”
     He sits back down on the bed beside me and I scooch over and lay on my back with my legs spread, ready for my dad’s paw. I’ve only been waiting for it all day long.
     He reaches into the front of my underwear and starts to rub. I’ve got a stiffy within a minute, and I slide my undies back down around my knees. He grabs my sheath between his thumb and his pointer finger and starts stroking it up and down. It slides back and forth on my pink part, making it tingle something fierce. I grab onto his arm for dear life as he rubs me. 
     I can tell he’s only really doing it ‘cause I asked nicely. He’s not really paying attention to me, and he keeps looking over his shoulder like someone might be watching us from my closet. He’s going fast like he can’t wait to get it over with. But I don’t really mind right now. Not when I can feel my knot aching to come out of my sheath and the warmth of my dad’s fingers on the pink skin of my weenie. I start thrusting my hips like daddy does when I’m rubbing his thingy or when he’s got it in my mouth. Not just because I’m trying to be like him or anything, but because I can’t even help it. It just feels so good. 
      It feels even better when he pushes his hand down real hard, and I feel his fingers around my knot. I bite his arm ‘cause it starts to hurt a lot, but he doesn’t even flinch ‘cause he’s so strong. But it only hurts for a little bit before I squeeze my eyes shut so tight I see the sparkles on my eyelids. I realize my knot is finally free and my dad’s got his fingers wrapped around it as my weenie twitches in his hand. I don’t make any cum like dad does yet, but I can still have an organism and I’m pretty sure that’s what’s happening right now. My hips jerk and thrust against his strong paw as dad paws at my knot. I open my eyes and look down at my privates and, to my surprise, see just a little tiny drop of cum leaking onto my dad’s thumb from the tip of my wiener.
     “There you go, baby. Just let it happen. You’re finally a big boy for real, now.”
     Another little bit of cum lands on my belly. It’s not a big and explosive organism like my dad has, but I’m super excited that I’m finally starting to make at least a little bit. His squirts out like a water gun, sometimes even like a Super Soaker, but mine is just kind of oozing out slowly. 
     The sparkles start to fade and my hips stop moving so my dad pulls his hand away and wipes some of my cum on my thigh. He sticks his thumb in my mouth and makes me clean up the rest with my tongue.
     “Alright, go take a bath,” he says, standing up. “Or at least take one when you get up tomorrow. I’m going to bed. I’ve got work in the morning.”
     He walks out the door and closes it gently behind him, and I can hardly move. I’m just lying in my bed with my whole weenie out. The knot’s stuck outside my sheath, and I know it won’t go back in for a while. I decide to try and play with it a little more, but it tickles so much it hurts when I try to touch it. 
     Instead I listen to myself breathe and listen to the cars going by outside my window and think. Just think. I think about everything that happened today. I think about Tracey and Scott, and my dad and how he cummed all down my throat and made me cough and choke. I think about Teddy and Todd, and how excited I am to see them on Monday. I think about the pool at the Y, and the playground, and who’s going to be my camp counselor. I hope it’s not Tracey again this year. I think about how sticky my fur’s going to be when I wake up in the morning. I think about whether or not I saved my game before I fell asleep. I think about tomorrow, and what I’m going to do all day. I think about how my dad’s going to come home late ‘cause Saturday’s his drinking day with his buddies from work. I think about how he usually plays rough on the days he goes out drinking. I think about my summer reading and how I really don’t want to do it. I think about anything and everything, until I eventually fall asleep.