Friends
By DirtCoyote

"You're gonna fucking take it all, bitch," Jonah roared into the basement.
The maned wolf was strapped to his own wooden horse, pulling hard at the restraints. He hadn't expected the raccoon to have gone so rough on him. Part of him was struggling to escape, but the straps were too strong. Most of him was glad they kept him bound and helpless.
He'd always known Jonah was a bit of a monster, but this was too much for him to handle. Turning his head back around, he could see the raccoon’s foot long dick held tightly in his paw. He was stroking it up and down, the tip only barely lubed. Trying to call out got nothing. Carl hadn't remembered when he was gagged, but he couldn't make a single protest.
Even trying to recall the safe word wasn't coming to mind in time. Jonah approached slowly, claws clicking against the cold concrete underneath. He tried to flip his tail around to bat him away, but it was just grabbed and twisted harshly to the side. The hot head pressed against his rear end and slowly began to force Carl open. It was too large and too quick, stretching him out painfully before—
Carl flung his sheets up, waving his arms around in defense. His fist went flailing left and right, catching mostly his comforter and nothing else. He reached up and grabbed his pillow off his face, tossing it to the side to look at his surroundings. The pounding in his ears subsided when he realized he was just in his room.
Slowly, the week slowly started to come back to him. It was Saturday and EdgeTech was over. Jonah's offer was refused, but the raccoon had left it on the table in case he changed his mind. Though he wanted to take it so bad, he'd come to his senses knowing Everett would have complicated any invitation to take him home.
The thought of his son took him fully out of his fantasy, and he turned to the clock. It was almost nine in the morning, and he hadn't been taken for his walk yet. As soon as he threw off the sheets though, he saw his raging erection and the mess that he'd made. Pre soaked his boxers through and through, leaving a sticky puddle over his crotch.
"Fuck," he grumbled as he got out of the bed.
Putting on a tanktop and a fresh pair of briefs, he ambled his way out of his bedroom. The hall lights turned on, though the windows illuminated the house well enough. With a paw rubbing underneath his eyelids, he worked his way downstairs still trying to wipe away the sleep. Just as he got to the bottom, Everett began his typical morning routine.
"Daddy," his son cried out, trying to push against the door.
"Sheesh, didn't I take you out last night?" Carl asked, annoyed as he worked his way to the cage.
His son rustled against the bars, trying to rush him along. Carl didn't bother to look for the leash, his mind still thinking back to the dream. It made his aching cock stretch against the fabric for release. It was almost too much to bear. And then, he realized he didn't have to.
"Nope," Carl said, just as his son tried to leap from the cage.
Grabbing at the boy's collar, he yanked him back and pulled him towards his crotch. Without much concern for his son, he pressed his muzzle right up against his throbbing shaft, pre already seeping through his underwear. It smeared against his son's nose, eliciting a whimper from him.
"You don't get to do your business until you’ve handled mine," Carl growled, thinking more of his swollen knot than his son's bladder.
Everett protested, "but I really have to go."
Just as soon as he did though, he could see that his son was regretting the refusal. Something like a headache scrunched his brow and he fought with his conflicting feelings. Not able to put up any more fight than he already had, Everett reached his paws up and pulled down Carl's briefs until they were down to his knees.
"Good. You better work fast if you wanna make it," Carl chuckled.
Without any further delay, his son wrapped his lips around the fat of the maned wolf's head. Everett slurped away vigorously, taking in half the shaft in a single go. His head went bobbing on the length, tongue swirling in quick circles around his meat. All Carl could do was lean back and let his son work.
The dream had definitely got him most of the way there. Already, he was dumping glorious amounts of pre into his son's maw. He reached down and grabbed hold of his head, forcing him down with both paws until he was hilting against the back of his throat. Carl wanted desperately to fill his stomach with seed.
He humped at his face, keeping him from pulling back. Everett all the while whimpered and moaned around his cock. His legs were quivering, wobbling and straining to hold in his bladder as best he could. His muzzle was strained, eyes closed tight while he let his father facefuck him.
Just as Carl threw his head back to moan, the sound of dripping filled the basement. He turned his head back down, cocking his muzzle to the side to look underneath. Despite mid-blowing his father, Everett was beginning to piss straight onto the concrete floor. It started as a slow dribble, him valiantly trying to hold back, but soon piss began pouring out the tip and sides of the cock cage.
"Bad dog," Carl grunted, still thrusting his cock into him.
Everett's ears went back, but he didn't stop urinating the slightest. No, in fact he was pissing harder, flooding his crotch and legs. He could feel his toes getting soaked in the warm growing pool. Carl stretched his paws underneath it, enjoying the feeling despite his words.
"Might have to get you in diapers if you can't hold it the full night," Carl laughed before going in at full force.
By now, Everett had blown his father enough to know how Carl liked it. He anticipated the increased ferocity of his thrusts. Angling himself forward, he allowed him to thrust deep into his throat. His knot rammed up against his lips every time, Carl trying to tie with his muzzle. With several more hilts, he bucked hard before he hit the point of no return.
"Fuck, kiddo. Here it comes."
Only a few more snorts for warning, Carl's cock shot a load straight into Everett's gut. He felt the boy's esophagus greedily clench and pull at the tip of his head. It milked him for all that he was worth while his lips sucked in anything daring to escape. His knot twitched and expanded, pulsating with every rope of cum he shot into him.
Carl watched his son, his eyes still clenched tight. Despite having pissed himself, he could hear him moaning and purring. His chest heaved as he filled his belly with his father's spunk. His paws were underneath him, one rolling his own balls around while the other fingered at himself. There was no question Everett was enjoying this as much as he was.
"Does that count as breakfast?" Carl said as he pulled his cock free from his lips.
It released with an audible pop, Everett still sucking on it to the very end. When he finally opened his eyes though, his brow was furrowed in an annoyed stare. Carl patted his son's cheek, flicking his dick with a freepaw to get everything out. The remaining cum dripped audibly into the piss underneath.
"Kidding, kidding. I think that earned you eggs today." The boy's ears went up, a look of excitement that he hadn't seen in him for a while. Cutting his joy short, Carl finished by pointing down at the mess, "After you've cleaned this up."
Everett splayed his ears, but nodded. Carl watched as his son tried to crawl out of the puddle, most of it dragging with him. Shaking his head, he stepped out of it himself and took wet steps to the metal table. He hopped up on it, lifting his paws and clicking his tongue in his cheek for Everett to come over.
Without even needing to be told, his son hurried over and pressed his face against the bottom of his soles. An eagerness was in his diligence to lick clean his feet. Up and down went his tongue over his pads and toes. Anything of the piss that remained was quickly slurped up by Everett's loving laps and kisses.
After bringing down a bucket of soap, Carl was quick back in his kitchen preparing the eggs. It felt like eternity since he'd been able to just cook for himself. With Edgetech finished, his life was slowly returning to normal. Well, as normal as it could be having a slave for a son.
There were still some obligations he had to deal with. As he stirred the eggs with a whisk, his other paw swiped through his phone. Emails were coming in every day, mostly good, but requiring him to work even while he tried to unwind. Thankfully, everything planned for the dinner tonight was set and he wouldn't need to put any more effort into that.
Everett came into the kitchen just as Carl emptied scrambled eggs into his dog bowl. "Hot," he said, letting his son know to wait a second. He was patient, though his tongue hung outside his maw. Little plops of spit dribbled off of it while it cooled. Feeling particularly generous today, Carl pulled out some ketchup from the pantry and poured it on top the way he knew his son liked it.
It was disgusting, but only fair to reward him.
As soon as Carl sat at the table and started to fork into his own eggs, his son began devouring his own pile. He could hear the hungry bites Everett made, the first real food he'd had since the pizza slice. Before Carl was even halfway through his portion, the boy crawled with an added skip over to his side.
"Messy," he said, seeing ketchup hanging off of his snout.
With a paper towel, he cleaned up his son's face. Everett fussed like a little cub the entire time. Carl just laughed at that, finishing the cleaning by ruffling his headfur. A second later, he was crawling over to the couch to lay at his usual spot.
The two of them spent most of the day watching TV together. Everett would get into his routine of servicing his father's paws while Carl mostly worked from his phone. When evening hit, Carl stood from the couch and patted Everett's side. The boy did as he was told, helping his father dress in another three piece suit; the last time he'd have to be in one for a while.
"Up," Carl commanded, helping his son onto the wooden horse.
His soles were healed enough that he could stand and get into position. Carl strapped each of his limbs against the sides. There wasn't a need for the gag anymore, knowing his son would quietly accept his training. All that was placed on him was the SeetherSoft visor before he started the program.
"Alright kiddo, just the usual training. I'll be back in a few hours," Carl said, double checking on a tablet.
It was the same lush green hills, grass and flower pedals waving calmly. Everett did as instructed, the feral horses guided neatly along the path. He gave a pat to the maned wolf's behind, feeling him up before turning out the room. Nothing left to do, he told Rekha to turn the lights off in his house before getting in his car.
Sure, Carl could have chosen a spot inside of the city for everyone’s convenience, but dinner overlooking Calataza’s skyscraper lights from across the bay felt fantastical. Dim bulbs hanging from wood patio pillars zig-zagged overhead the rooftop seating of the Marsican restaurant. Attentive white bow tie staff waited on his entire workforce. All twenty-something employees were split between five tables equally.
The maned wolf danced from group to group just as much as the waiters and waitresses, praising every single person’s hard work individually. Everyone clapped for Carl's rousing speech, letting them all know that the event was a success. Due to their combined effort, even with Carl being distracted by Everett, the company was in a position to thrive.
Spotting Daisy alone leaning against the outside railing of the deck, Carl excused himself from Jafari's rambling. The giraffe was a machine, even after he'd liquored him up good, he still wanted to talk about SeetherSoft's future applications. It wasn't just an excuse to get away from work, though he was glad to take a minute from coding. Seeing her staring listlessly out across the bay had genuinely pulled at his curiosity.
"Think you'll stick around for a while?" Carl asked, a small smile on his muzzle.
She sighed, not turning her head. "I think so. It's a beautiful city with a lot of lovely people in it."
Daisy finished that last part by turning slow to Carl. A glass of wine swirled with her wrist. Ever reserved as she was, she'd only come in the restaurant with a white floral patterned dress and some comfortable plain flats. Her legs were exposed only slightly above her ankles, and the only accessory she wore was a yellow ribbon bracelet. Carl thought she was stunning.
"I'm glad. I'm hoping this team stays together for a while," he nodded, taking the mai tai in his paw and tipping it in his muzzle.
Relaxed, he leaned against the railing himself and took in the scene with her. She mimicked him, finishing off her wine and setting it aside. The two stared out silently, words on both of their minds but none coming out. Instead, she reached a paw over and rested it on his elbow.
Carl turned, looking to her for confirmation before turning to the tables behind him. All of his team was focused on each other, Hugo becoming the center of attention. The cacomistle had been pounding away drinks on his own, now standing up and trying to perform a dance to the music.
They were distracted enough for him to turn back to Daisy, close his eyes, and lean in to seal the gap between them. He was soft, sensual with a quick kiss right on the mustelid's cheek. She cooed, brushing her whiskers to his. The two held close, huddling into each other for a second. He could imagine her, taking her home tonight and laying her out on his bed. They'd spend a magical moment together, something he'd been wanting for months now. Maybe she'd be interested to see his...basement where Everett was waiting.
"Oof, I'm sorry," Carl pulled back, turning back again to see if his employees saw anything.
She was taken aback, ears swiveling in confusion as she spoke, "Is everything— I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?"
"No, nothing. You didn't do anything wrong." He fluttered his paws about, and took a step back. Turning, he motioned to the tables. "Let's get back. I think I should probably settle Hugo down before he hurts himself."
She nodded and walked silently with him. Daisy on his mind, he ordered another drink and tried to cool himself down. A double this time, hoping to catch up with Hugo. Some joined Carl, taking any excuse to drink after the harrowing week. One by one though, people began parting, dropping like flies and getting rides home. Daisy's goodbye came swiftly, but the maned wolf had put back too many to give her the attention she deserved.
With only Hugo left, the cacomistle keeping up surprisingly well, he too needed to head home. "Alright, big guy. Your car is here," Carl said, holding the smaller man by his shoulders.
Hugo hiccuped loudly and followed it with a snickering snort. "But we were just getting started," he playfully whined.
He turned his head left and right, realizing now that they were no longer on the rooftop. Everyone had gone home, including most of the restaurant staff. It was only them standing together out front. Carl had been feeding the cacomistle plenty of water before ordering the ride.
He could see on the app that the car was a minute away and patted Hugo's back. "You can party at home, but you can't stay here."
With no warning, Hugo spun around and grabbed hold of Carl's unbuttoned blazer. He pulled the much taller maned wolf in, and muttered, "Or we can keep the party going over at your place."
The cacomistle had pulled himself close enough to Carl that he could smell the alcohol on his breath. "What?" he asked, a little surprised at the offer.
"I know you think that I don't think that you don't know the way that you look at me," Hugo slurred, another hiccup followed after. "But I know and that you think that you'd want me."
Needily, he pressed his body up against Carl's. His paw went down, rubbing against the maned wolf's crotch. He couldn't help but moan at that and all sorts of thoughts flew through his mind at once. As if he was thinking his same thoughts, Hugo focused hard on the words he wanted to say before whispering,  "You could do anything you wanted with me."
Carl couldn't help himself, even knowing it was his employee and they were both drunk. He leaned in and kissed him hard, much deeper than he did with Daisy. Their tongues ran up against one another. Carl's paws were pressed firmly against the cacomistle's ass while Hugo stroked up and down at the growing bulge between them.
Trying to gain some control, Carl broke the kiss. A string of saliva hung between them, breaking off only when they pulled apart to examine each other. Hugo's glasses were crooked on his snout, but his eyes were piercing behind them. Those dangerous thoughts of unbridled lust flashed brightly. And drunk as he was and as much as he wanted this, he couldn't push Everett out of his mind.
"Hugo, wait," he said, pushing the cacomistle's paws off of him. It was harder than he meant to, and the smaller man almost went to the floor. Hugo caught himself though, looking up stunned and dumb. That same look of hurt that Daisy had was now his, and Carl didn't know what to say.
Beep!
They both turned, the rideshare waiting impatient. Between the kisses and gropes, neither realized that he had pulled up. The chubby otter behind the wheel tapped a finger to an imaginary wristwatch. Carl just wrapped an arm around Hugo's shoulder and led him up to it.
"Let's put a pin in this, alright?" he said, opening the back door.
Hugo nodded weakly, though it was obvious he had a lot to say. All that came out was a shameful, "Sorry." as he stepped into he car.
"Hey kid. You have nothing to be sorry about. Like I said," he reached over and stroked along the white and tan fur of his face. "You're one of the good ones."
Hugo smiled, but it was unsure. The door closed and the driver was quick to peel off the curb. It hurt to watch him go like that. Turning back around, he thumped his fist against the front door of the restaurant until one of the bussers opened it up. With a quick exchange of a couple hundreds, the large elk came back stealthily with wine concealed in a brown paper bag.
By the time his own rideshare driver came along, he was already halfway through the bottle. He slipped the last of his bills to the driver, a small acknowledgement not to ask what was in the bag as he downed the bottom half of it on his way home. All the while, his thoughts were on Everett. His son was royally fucking things over for him. He brewed on that, thoughts shifting between Hugo, Daisy, Jonah, and any other potential partners he could have if it wasn't for him. Things were quickly getting out of his control, and he couldn't help but be angry about it. With help from the wine, his thoughts began to spiral.
The wolf was nice enough to help him to his front door, making sure he got inside before returning to his car. Carl stumbled into his hall, knocking into the side of the entryway table and almost spilling onto the floor. Cautiously, he worked his way down the steps of his basement. Everett didn't acknowledge him, slack jawed with the visor still on his head.
Thumbing through the racks on the wall, Carl pawed at each punishment device he had. There were whips, paddles, crops, and floggers of various sizes lined up in a row. A steel spur stood out amongst a tray of similar torture devices he'd not yet used. Nothing was stopping him from picking it up and pushing it against his son's side to take out some frustration. The sharp prods would leave him just as hurt as he was feeling at the moment.
It was tempting.
Everett's tail flicked up, and Carl could see him turning his head. Even though he didn't know his father was right behind, he was still following along mindlessly with the program's instructions. Like all week, his son was obediently doing as he was told. Carl, on the other hand, was getting ready to punish him for something he was completely unaware of.
"Daddy?" Everett murmured as the headset was taken off of him.
Carl placed it back on the table, returning to undo the straps. "Easy does it, kiddo."
Groggily, Everett came back to. He turned his head left and right, blinking quickly to adjust to the light. When Carl undid the last restraint, his son just helped himself off of the wooden horse. Careful with his feet, he sat himself down on all fours and came up to his father's side.
"Bedtime?"
Carl nodded, but when his son tried to pull towards the cage, he tugged on his collar. Everett was confused, but followed along the older maned wolf's side. They walked up the stairs, Carl desperately hanging onto the railing for dear life. He had to use his son's back to lean on as they made their way into his bedroom.
There was no ritual tonight. Clothes were peeled off haphazardly, cast left and right. Everett looked to protest, still having that same need to clean. Carl stopped him as he tried, snapping his finger and pointing at the bed. When he hopped onto the bed, Carl relieved himself of his underwear and tossed it aside as well.
"Just, lay down," he said and Everett obeyed.
He looked stiff on his back. Carl could see his son struggling to figure out if this was a trick or some sort of sexual thing. It didn't matter, because all he did was curl up against Everett, arms wrapped over his shoulders. His whiskers brushed into his son's mane, giving him a peck before whispering, "See you in the morning."
And he couldn't help but be a little surprised he did. When Carl woke up, his son was still lying there next to him. His head was sunk into the pillow, eyes closed in slumber. At some point, they'd both crawled underneath the sheets. One of Everett's arms had wormed underneath Carl and the other clutched around a stray pillow.
Carl shifted, trying to pull away and immediately felt his brain slosh inside of his own skull. He jerked a paw to his head, grunting at the hangover. It dizzied him, forcing him to close his eyes and rethink his drinking habits. When he opened his eyes again, Everett was already stirring from his sleep.
"Mormin'," Carl murmured, paw still clutched to his muzzle.
Everett wasn't much of a princess either, wrapping himself in the sheets as he turned his head away. There was a spot on the pillow where his maw left a puddle of drool. A patch in his fur was matted over against his cheek. Without much care, he muttered out, "Not yet. Thirty more minutes."
Awe, hell no.
Glass clanked loudly on glass as Carl sat his cup down on the patio table. The overcast kept him in his grey hoodie, but the cold wasn’t enough to keep him out of his jorts. Maybe it was just a maned wolf thing, but he loved his long legs to keep his long legs free. Sitting on his rocker, he crossed his left leg over his right and stretched out long onto the wooden deck.
He took a sip of his Arnold Palmer and wrinkled his muzzle. Lifting his glass, he pointed with his finger at Everett passing by with the lawnmower. His son released the handle, killing the engine to listen to what his father had to say. “It’s half and half!” Carl called out, twisting his tongue so that he could see his sour expression. “Half lemonade. Half iced tea. This is like, at least seventy percent lemonade. Maybe eighty!” Even though he complained, he took another sip anyway. It wasn’t completely ruined.
Everett rolled his eyes at his father while he stood holding his arms over his chest and his crotch. Misery clung to his muzzle as he stood staring back at his father. The crisp air wasn’t too bad for him wearing his hoodie, but his son was shivering blatantly. “What’s wrong?” Carl asked with a begrudging wince.
“Sir, I’m cold!” Everett cried back with his high pitched whine.
Sitting up in his seat making to look like he might get up, Carl taunted, “Then you better hurry up! This is as warm as it’s gonna get this week and it’s only getting cooler.”
Near naked, Everett shuffled in front of his father, trying his best to pout like a wounded cub. As far as Carl could see, he had left him in more clothes than he’d allowed him to wear all week. He had his thick new nylon blue collar that covered most of his neck, the large cow bell that hung off of the ring on his collar, clamps chained together hanging off each nipple, his slick stainless steel sheath capping chastity cage, and now, his own pair of flip flops that he had lent him while his soles were still healing. If anything, he should just let him tough it out and do chores outside on his bandages.
“Dad! What if someone walks by or comes up the driveway?” Everett whimpered, his paws growing tighter to his chest and crotch.
Carl just smirked and laughed, ignoring the fact that he referred to him as Dad instead of Sir like he was supposed to, “That’s what the bell’s for! Wouldn’t want anyone to miss an opportunity to see my new work mule.” Everett looked to complain more, either about the embarrassing bell he had to wear or the fact that he was naked outside. With his free paw, he grabbed hold of the bounded handle of the nine foot whip he’d set at his side. Letting it unravel out onto the deck, he gave a stern look at his son to test him.
As Everett watched, he frantically tugged at the pull cord to start the engine of the lawn mower. His first attempt failed to start the mower, and when his second attempt also failed, Carl raised from his seat. After sitting his glass back down on the table, he made a threatening step towards his son with the whip dragging at his side. Everett panicked, pulling several times to get the engine running again and by the time Carl was right at the edge of the deck, it caught and Everett got back to work.
The sound of the lawn mower barely muffled the clink-clank of his cow bell, directing anyone’s attention to him if they would see. Carl’s house was pretty deep into the wooded area though. Neighbors were so far away and so shrouded in thick trees that he couldn’t even make out what direction to look to find their houses. Still, it was embarrassing for him and he did like to watch his son tuck his tail between his legs from the humiliation. Wanting to get a rise of him, Carl pulled his arm back and practiced a crack a few yards short of Everett’s behind.
“Ow!” Everett yelped, kicking his feet up as he heard the crack of the whip behind him.
Carl grumbled and glared at his son, watching him duck his head with his ears back flat as plates. Part of him wanted to really step up off of the deck, chase his son up and down the yard with the whip and give him something to actually say “ow” about. Not a single day went by where Everett would cry out without actually being hurt. It was some defense mechanism that frustrated him to all hell and after a full week of Everett’s training, Carl felt he’d made hardly any progress on that at all.
Rolling his shoulders, the maned wolf tossed his whip down onto the glass table and picked up his drink. Getting mad was only fun if he could release it constructively so he slumped back into his chair and relaxed. Carl inhaled the air, taking in the freshly cut grass and loosened his shoulders until he was slouched in the cushions. Thirty minutes of relaxing on the deck disappeared his hangover like the empty drink on his table.
Just as Everett was passing by in front of the patio again, he let go of the lawn mower and killed the engine. Carl cocked his head to the side, confused at what his son was doing. The lawn was only halfway finished and he certainly hadn’t been working long enough to deserve another water break. Everett’s muzzle was facing him, but getting a better look, he was actually looking past him. Slowly, Carl turned his head back to look through the large sliding glass panel behind him.
Light poured in from the front door directly across the living room. The door closed behind a figure hidden in the glare of the glass and underneath the mesh of the screen door. Unsure who the fuck would be inside his house and too scared to do anything about it, Carl froze. It felt like his heart was wrapped in wires and dragged down straight into his stomach. The person inside moved cautiously, glancing around until noticing the backyard and approaching the patio.
Finding his nerve, Carl propelled himself a foot into the air and grabbed hold of the whip’s handle. He moved so fast, his glass knocked over, clanking hard and spilling out remaining ice onto the table and deck. Heart pounding he spun back around and waited for the stranger to reveal himself. If this was a cop doing some missing persons checkup, he wasn’t sure if even his connections could keep him out of trouble.
Instead, a fox’s muzzle pressed up against the glass, tongue sticking out just enough to leave a mark of saliva on the panel. Even with the ugly lime green uniform, Carl was too wound up to recognize the intruder until he called out, “Evee? The heck you wearin’?”
“Billy?” Carl shouted so loud, the fox stumbled backwards, just barely keeping his footing.
“Mr. Flacks?” Billy looked between them, particularly focusing on Everett’s nakedness and the whip in Carl’s paw. The hamster wheel inside the fox’s tiny mind turned slowly, but he began to put pieces of the puzzle together. They clicked into place and just as Carl saw the lightbulb dimly flicker in his eyes, he knew he was in trouble. Billy must have thought the same thing because one foot dragged backwards to the front door.
Both were off at the same time, Billy shooting towards the front door like a bullet and Carl leaping off the deck to sprint around the house. The whip in his paw flung about in the wind. His long legs gave him a definite speed advantage, but he still put all of his might into flying towards the driveway. His bare paws kicked up fresh cut grass into the air, leaving a green cloud trailing behind him. There was no time for him to even think of a plan other than catching up to his vulpine counterpart.
Carl’s large ears folded back as he heard the front door slam just as he turned the corner of his house. He barrelled right, hoping to intercept the boy before he could get to the driveway. Unfortunately, Billy was already there, longboard clattering against the ground and he was picking up speed. There would be no chance that the maned wolf could catch up once he got going on the driveway’s downward slope.
Still running, the gap was closing between him and the fox. He wasn’t catching up fast enough and soon the fox was starting to get a little bit further away from him as he sped down the driveway. Desperate, Carl pulled his paw back, the whip uncoiling out behind him. Lunging forward, he flung the whip as hard as he could and cracked it just inches short of the vulpine’s black tipped ears.
It left a ringing like the shot of a gun, but completely knocked Billy off his course. He faltered, swerving for only a millisecond, but enough to trip him up. The board went sailing forward and the fox went down onto the concrete, rolling a couple times before skidding to a stop. Not able to take a victory lap yet, Carl had to get right back to running before he could recover.
Billy indeed sprang up like a wire, ready to start running for his life again, but went right back down as the maned wolf tackled him to the floor. A little too fast, Carl couldn’t slow down his momentum and dropped a yard past the fox altogether. They were both slow to get back up, elbows and knees scraped up from the scuffle. They took their places, Carl defending the exit of the driveway and Billy looking for holes that he could escape through.
Carl moved first, diving into the vulpine with his arms outstretched. Billy juked right, but the maned wolf was too large to be dodged entirely. He grabbed hold of his shoulder, spinning him around and they both hit the floor. This time, Carl wasn’t intending on overextending himself. He wrapped his arm around to grapple the boy as best as he could with his long limbs.
Billy was lithe and wirey. He wriggled and squirmed in the wolf’s grasp. It was hard to hold onto him and before Carl could realize it, the fox had positioned his muzzle where he wanted it. Vulpine fangs sunk deep into Carl’s arm and it took all of his might to cry out. They pierced his fur and skin, the hot smell of blood flooding into the air. Carl gave Billy a sharp strike to the back of his head, but he didn’t release. He tried again, hitting him harder, but the bite didn’t let up.
Unable to withstand the pain, he let go of Billy altogether and his arm was freed in reward. Both sprang up to their feet at the same time, but neither looked to be able to run anymore. The fox just dropped back a few steps, phone pulling out of his pocket while Carl drew back the whip again. “You hit me with that, I’m callin’ the cops,” Billy threatened through tears.
“You go ahead and call the cops. I’ll tell them I caught you trying to mug me. They’ll cart you off and put you in the pin with the other half of your bumfuck family,” Carl shot with iron in his words.
Well, he at least felt like he sounded confident. If the police saw Everett, they might not be quite as inclined to believe the maned wolf’s story. Carl kept dodging to the phone, his grip on the whip growing tighter and tighter. What the fuck was he supposed to do? He wasn’t some fucking Doug Riot action hero that could wrap the whip’s end around the smart phone and fling it out of his paw. Maybe he could try, but before today, he’d never actually even swung the damn thing.
“Stop!” Cried Everett running towards the two of them.
The bell clanked about clumsily along with the chain attached to the clamps on his nipples. Even with his long stride, he’d just barely managed to catch up between the two of them and was holding his palm up to halt them. Winded, he allowed himself to breathe for a second before croaking out, “Billy, go home.”
“Everett, get inside and change into your regular clothes. I’m dealing with this,” Carl said in a low dark tone.
Billy pointed an accusing finger at Carl and waved it around while jumping up and down. “He’s doin’ some fucked up shit, ain’t he? I knew something was up! I knew he was—”
“This is none of your fucking business,” Carl said, but didn’t turn his head.
“Please Sir, let him go,” Everett whined to his father, though his words were out of concern. Turning to meet the fox, he addressed him as well, “Billy, go home and don’t say anything to anyone. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Like hell you will,” Carl shot out.
“Dad!” Everett cried, though he squinted his eyes shut like it physically hurt to force out those words. Catching a paw on his temple, he focused and finished his thought, “Just let him go.”
Split between the two of them, Carl knew the situation was completely out of his control. The tension rose like an ocean engulfing them. Though all of them were panting, the air felt thin and the older maned wolf felt his age was showing. Despite the fox having taken the blow to the back of the head and the nasty spill, he looked ready to go at it one more time if he had to. Carl, not so much.
Making the first move, Billy retreated his phone down into his pocket and gave a single nod to the two maned wolves. Tossing down his whip to the ground, Carl made a similar show of peace, but not without getting his word in. “Not a single fucking soul, Billy,” he spat his name out with a finger waving dangerously at him.
Billy wiped his nose on his sleeve, catching snot, tears, and blood from a busted lip. He turned his head left, turned his head right, and looked around for something, the slightest victory he could take from this. When he couldn’t search it out, he swung his head back and yelled, voice cracking, “FUCKIN’ SHIT!” into the forest before crushingly walking off towards where the longboard sailed.
Still pumped with adrenaline, Carl called out, “And stop letting yourself into my fucking house!” as he watched Billy’s tail disappear deeper down the driveway.
Carl wanted to drop right onto his knees right there, the tension releasing out of his body all at once. Without the immediate threat, he could feel the pain spreading across every single square inch of his body. Last time that he got into a scuffle like that, he’d been in college at a bar where his wife escalated a simple misunderstanding. That bear knocked him three times straight on the nose and then tossed him over a pool table, and he still was able to bounce up like it was nothing. Now, he was about ready to collapse from just having wrestled on the ground.
His knees wobbled, and before he could let himself drop though, an arm wrapped around him. Everett’s muzzle tucked underneath Carl’s pit and he supported the older maned wolf with his shoulders. Wordlessly, they hobbled together towards the house, white tail tips dragging like dirty rags out their back pockets.
Inside, Carl allowed himself to be led to the couch. An exasperated sigh escaped loudly from the sides of his muzzle. Aches cried from his elbows and knees and only when he was able to sit himself down did he realize how badly he bruised and scraped himself up trying to tackle the fox. Waiting at attention was Everett, not quite sure what to do with himself after a situation like this.
“Don’t just stand there,” Carl barked disheartenedly. “Medicine cabinet. Little yellow tube and underneath the sink is a little first aid box. Bring those to me and then get me a wet rag.”
Everett did as he was told, though Carl had to clarify harshly that he meant his bathroom when he heard his son dip into his own bathroom. He managed to find it eventually, bringing out the case and the antibiotics before racing into the kitchen for the rag. It hurt, but Carl managed to clean up his knees and elbows just fine on his own. With a wet rag in his paws, the young maned wolf came back just in time to see the gift Billy had left him.
“Your boyfriend really fucked me up,” Carl muttered in annoyance as he showed off the bite.
Ducking his ears back, Everett protested, “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Don’t give a shit,” Carl grimaced, momentarily forgetting that his son had no clue about the fox. Everett squirmed around nervously, not looking directly at the matted fur until Carl waved his arm a bit impatiently. “The rag. Clean it up,” he said as he rested his patched up elbow on the arm rest.
Stupidly, his son nodded his head quickly up and down only to not be sure what to do. Carl grunted and swiped the rag from his paw, padding the bloody spots where the teeth sank into before tossing it back at Everett. Thinking about it now, his son had never done anything that could have caused him to clean himself up like this. Never worked a day in his life and never made a meal more complicated than a mac n’ cheese. That was going to change after this.
If there was an after this.
All the while Everett cleaned him off, Carl thought about what he was going to have to do with Billy. His son trusted him enough to let him go, but he wasn’t so sure about that himself. The fox liked his son, he knew that well enough, and he wasn’t sure what lengths he would go to keep him safe. Thinking about that made him realize exactly how he was treating his son and a twinge of regret crossed his chest.
After several painful minutes of letting Everett figure out how to use the gauze and wrapping tape, he stood up off the couch and helped his son out of his gear. Each clamp received a yelp and Carl couldn’t help but give a flick to his tender nipples. All he got was some whining noises from the boy, but no “ow” and he figured that would be the win for today. Carl unhooked the bell, chucking it over to a loveseat and after a second’s thought, he left the collar on. It did look good on him.
Part of him wanted to tell his son to get dressed in case any cops were going to come over, but he really couldn’t imagine Billy calling 911. As much as he hated him, the fox thought of himself as family and imagined that this was the equivalent of family business. Stupid fucking fox made everything complicated. Carl hoped that he got a good look at Everett, because that was going to be the last time they were going to see each other for a very long time.
Bet the fox was jealous that he could do the things with Everett that he probably had been wanting to do. Carl patted the space next to him on the couch and wrapped his arm around his son possessively. He unbuttoned his shorts, trying to trick himself into relaxing. With his uninjured arm, he grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV to take his mind off things.
Sitting in front of the TV did not bring the sense of ease that it had throughout the week. Everett did not slide down on all fours to wrap around his battered legs, nor did he place his warm soothing tongue about his toes. The boy’s head did not rest into his lap with expectations of gentle brushes and tickling air into his ear. Shows glossed over their eyes as if soundless and meaningless, and just about when the nervous tapping of Everett’s feet was about to drive Carl off an edge, he spoke up.
“Sir, I need to get my phone,” he peeped up quietly, maybe hoping that he wouldn’t get a response if Carl couldn’t hear it.
Tightening his grip over his son, he pulled him in and growled, “No.”
The cheery commercial on the TV clashed against the icy silence inside of the room. A family of shepherds passed each other slices of pizza, laughing irritatingly loud as the youngest cub snatched a pepperoni from his father’s slice. Despite everything in this week, all of the bondage, and the whips, and the humiliation, and the discipline, and the yelling, this silence felt like it was creating a rift large enough that Carl had to let out, “Why?”
Everett kept himself still, taking time with his response before settling with, “I need to talk to Billy, Sir.”
That name twisted Carl’s muzzle and he said, “The only thing you need to tell him is that he’s not welcome back here.” The words sounded stern in his own mind, but he felt himself regressing back to Everett’s high school days. Times where he would tell him, “This is the last time.” only for it to echo endlessly with similar statements.
There was no fight though and when Everett stood, he just nodded his head, “Alright, Daddy.”
“Tch, my closet, shelf above the ties. Only text,” Carl said, not really feeling like he believed his son and not liking how easy he was slipping back into calling him Daddy instead of Sir to get what he wanted.
Everett bowed his head, trying to retain at least some of the things that he had learned from the week. Apprehension soaked into Carl’s mood again, and he pondered exactly what were some of the things that he might say. Would he really tell him that he was not allowed back again or would he tell him to lay low for a few weeks and they’d sneak out and see each other? Carl didn’t want to think that he’d just take the phone from him to read the text message himself because for once, he actually wanted to trust his son.
There wasn’t enough time to brew over the question as his tall ears rose, flicking up high. Just slightly over the sound of the TV and through the front door rang a familiar chime. Fretful, Carl rose from his couch up onto the balls of his toes as he glided over the carpeted floor. Keeping towards the wall, he kept low and shallowed his breathing until he reached the front door. The thought to pull out his phone and use the camera came to mind, but turning it on made too much noise. He’d have to trust conventional resources.
Carl held his breath and slowly poked himself up to the peephole to quickly glance for what he suspected. It only lasted a second and as soon as he checked, he ducked his head back down. Nothing. At least, he was pretty sure that he didn’t see anything. Double-checking though, he lifted once more and pressed his eye right to the hole. Overcast skies, dark trees, an open lawn, the white awning, his parked car, and a completely empty driveway made up everything out front of him.
Before he could even let out a breath of relief, that same chime rang just on the other side of the door. He was now completely sure that he had heard the notification from a phone. That familiar ring was specific too, and he knew exactly who was on the other side of his door. Brow furrowed, he let out a sigh and stepped away from the door.

Incest Gay Male/Male Maned_Wolf Humiliation Slavery Hypnosis Paw paw_worship Foot_Fetish Feet Collar Leash Training Pain BDSM Bondage Watersports Bathroom_control omorashi Violence