Cecile and Madeline
A story of children gone terribly wrong
Content warning: cub rape in conjunction with orientation play, derogatory language

The Nanny’s Boy

	“Show Mrs. Fitzwilliam in.”    
	“Very good Sir.”    Baxter bowed and backed out of the room, keeping his enormous black and white striped tail pointed well away from his employer.    
	Madeline Linkletter sat with her younger brother, Cecil, on a leather sofa in their father’s office, his hand nestled into hers, head resting on her shoulder, and looking innocent, with their long, bald tails discretely and inappropriately coiled between them.  The formidable and implacable Sir Horatio Linkletter the Fourth, Diplomat, lord of Linkletter estate and archduke of Devon-shire sat impassively at his mahogany desk, shuffling papers around, ears forward and whiskers twitching with impatience, ready for the ordeal of finding a nanny to be done.  Rain pattered against the ancient windows of the study, as it had the whole evening, and drenched all of Devon-shire for the last three days.
	“I hope you two approve of this one.” He said in a deep voice befitting an archduke in his own home.  A fire crackled behind him, the cheery light and warmth robbing his usual dour and intimidating affectation of its usual power. “She’s the last candidate.  Every time I hire a new one there are fewer applications.  Your less endearing habits and exploits are no doubt making the rounds at last.  If you don’t like her, then I’ll be forced to pick a nanny for you, and you will deal with them.  You will have a nanny before I leave for Italy the day after tomorrow.  Am I understood?”
	Cecil stirred from stupor long enough to nod flippantly at his father, but Mr. Linkletter never saw it-he was already holding up a sheet of embossed, and magnificently type-headed paper from among several in a manila folder and nodded to himself as he confirmed something or another, then dropped it languorously back into place.
	“Ms. Ophelia Fitzwilliam and son, Sir,” Baxter announced, ushering a shocking orange furred creature into the room ahead of himself.  Clutching to the woman’s skirt, an equally orange boy with a fluffy white tipped tail and black fur from finger tips to elbows and showing and inch above his knee-high socks entered.  Madeline nudged her brother and pointed at the boy.  He looked to be less than a year younger than he.  She grinned, delighted, and Cecil sat up, more interested in the proceedings than before.
	“Mrs. Fitzwilliam-”
	“Ms. Fitzwilliam, your lordship.”  Ms. Fitzwilliam corrected Mr. Linkletter.  “Mr. Fitzwilliam passed away six years ago.”
	“My condolences.”  Said Mr. Linkletter, startled, unused to such brusque interruption and correction.  He appreciated her spine.
	“Thank you.”
	“Your references are quite impeccable.  Goes back more than twenty years.”
	“Thank you, your lordship.  I’ve been a maid, nanny, or wet nurse, even occasional cook since I was fourteen.”
	Horatio shook his hand across his neck in a casual negative.  “Sir will do, thank you.”
	“Of course, Sir.”  
	“Says here you’ve done stints of service in two or thee different homes of eminent members of foreign society in the last ten years.  I happen to know your last employer, Devereaux, personally.”  Horatio tapped the manila folder beneath his fingers lightly.
	“That’s correct Sir.  Devereaux was a fine lord and very kindly to me when my son was sick a year and a half ago.”
	Mr. Linkletter gave no indication that he heard her speak.  “Why did you leave your last post?”
	“His Lordship no longer required a nanny for his daughter, who turned fourteen three months ago.  He was most gracious in allowing me to stay after she turned twelve.  I offered to continue on as a cook or maid, but he politely declined.”
	“Is that a fact?  I can hardly believe she’s that old already.  How about posts prior?”
	“Downsizing of the staff mostly.  Seems that as time goes by, there is less and less need for help.”
	“I see.  It looks to me like all your references are abroad.  The Devereauxs are in France I know for sure.  Are you a native Brit returning for work closer to your homeland?”
	“No Sir, I was born and raised in Sweden, but my husband was British, so I’ve been here on vacations when we could afford them.  Almost all of my service has been for English speaking lords and ladies also.”
	“Your affectation and accent are most impressively British, I never would’ve guessed.  So you’re new to town, so to speak.”
	“Thank you Sir, and yes, I am.  Never been to Devon-shire.  I have currently settled in the hotel by the river and am doing odd jobs here and there to pay for my rooms until I find more permanent work and lodging.”
	“And you’d like to work here?”
	“I would.  You offer the best pay and lodging.”
	“I like that you mince no words on the subject.”  
	“Wouldn’t be doing either of us any favors if I did.  You need an experienced nanny, I need work and a home.”
	“Tell me about your boy there.  What’s his name?  How old is he?”  Madeline and Cecil leaned forward.  Ms. Fitzwilliam glanced at them, then addressed Mr. Linkletter.
	“His name’s Winston, and he turned ten last week.”  The boy, half visible behind his mothers bushy tail and skirt to begin with, moved deeper into his mother’s shadow as the discussion turned to him.
	“He seems very shy.”  Cecil gave a sidelong glance at his sister and smirked.  Definite interest there.  Any more, and he’d have to wipe the drool from her mouth.  He was interested himself, and sat up to make his erection less conspicuous.  Maddie glanced back at him, then at his lap, and tittered behind her hand.  Horatio ignored them, and Ms. Fitzwilliam glanced at them again.
	Turning her attention back to Horatio, she said, “Very, until he gets to know you.  Then he becomes very precocious.  Talking at a hundred and twenty kilometers an hour and getting into everything.”  She smiled down at her son and hugged him close.  “Has a bad habit of popping up out of the strangest places looking oddly guilty, but he never seems to have done anything wrong.  I can only assume he likes hiding in weird places.  The Devereauxs found it rather endearing, as do I, actually.”  Cecil stifled a gasp as Madeline took her hand from his and slid it into his pocket, which was torn open at the bottom at her direction.  She reached under the waistband of his underwear and cupped his penis.  It was warm and hard in her hand.  It pleased her.
	“You don’t say?  My children too, are extraordinarily precocious and are always popping up out of unexpected places.”  He glanced at his cubs sharply.  The fire did nothing to lighten the implied threat in his drawn brows.  “I should think they’ll get along rather splendidly.  Won’t you, Madeline, Cecil?”
	“Of course, Father!”  Madeline said, giving her best angelic impersonation.  Cecil merely nodded.  He could see the devil horns propping up the imaginary halo between her big, beautiful ears.
	“Excellent.  Will your son be going to school in town?  Would you prefer he goes under private tutoring with my children should you be hired until the new semester starts?”
	“You’d allow my son to attend under your children’s tutor?  That is most gracious of you.”
	“That will be all for now, Ms. Fitzwilliam.  If you and your son could wait in the great hall with the other applicants please.  Baxter will show you the way.”  Horatio rang a bell, and Baxter entered, swift as the wind.
	“Please take Ms. Fitzwilliam to wait with the others.”
	“Very good Sir.”  Ophelia rose from her chair, and Baxter escorted them from the room.  Horatio shook back his sleeve as they left and looked at his watch.
	“So?  Does she meet with your exacting standards, children?”  
	“Can we talk about her first Daddy?  Just Cecil and I?”  Madeline asked.
	“Like you have after each of them so far?  If you must.  But make it quick, I’m a busy rat and you’re holding up the potentials too.”  
	Madeline extracted her hand from her brother’s pocket, and they stood up.
	“Did you have your hand in your brother’s pocket?” Horatio asked, incredulous.
	“My hand was cold.”  She replied.
	Cecil rubbed the spot over his pocket as if warming up an area leached of its warmth.  “Now my leg is cold.” he complained.  At least his erection had calmed and would not be pointing the way into the lounge across the hall.  Horatio narrowed his eyes at them.  He didn’t believe the show for a minute, but dismissed them without further comment.  They skedaddled from under their father’s gaze and into the old, wide, wood-paneled hall of the west wing.  Across the hall they went and closed the door so as to not be overheard.
	The instant the door closed, Madeline yanked her brother around hard by the shoulder and shoved him hard against the wall behind a chintz armchair, and stuck her tongue into his muzzle.  He struggled against her for a moment, then relaxed.  As soon as he gave up, she let him go, turning to pace by the fire.  
	“Bleh, you give up too easily Cecil.”  She said, licking his spittle from her lips.
	“I’m sorry Madeline.  I could fake it, but it would only be real as long as I’m surprised.  You’d know the difference in an instant.”  He leaned against the wood paneled wall of the empty room and stared at his pacing sister.  
	“I know, I know.  You don’t have to fake it for me.  I appreciate that you would.”
	“I’d do anything for you, Madeline.  Anything, and forever.”
	“I’d do anything for you, too, Cecil.  Anything, and forever.”  She said, coming back over and putting a hand on his shoulder.  “Now fuck me.”
	“Don’t make me laugh Maddie.  You wouldn’t get any more out of it than I would.”  He leaned forward and stuck his tongue into her mouth.  It was passionate, but uninspired.  They peered into each other’s eyes, searching.  Adoration and desire lurked, but the kiss utterly failed to stir it up.  She pushed him away; he’d reproved the point.  “Now, that Winston boy…”  
	Madeline’s smile contorted into a wicked grin.  “Mhmm, he looks gay.” She returned to pacing, this time between him and the lounge chair.  
	“Just the way we like them,”  He concurred.  “and he’s just a few months younger than me.”
	“I have a mind to believe that Ms. Fitzwilliam has no idea her son is a faggot.  Popping out of unexpected places.  It sounds Just.  Like.  You.  Dear brother, just not out of the closet yet.”
	Cecil flattened his ears and he put a hand to his chin in mock embarrassment.  “Why thank you for noticing.” He giggled and turned his hand to waggle his fingers at her.  Madeline spun him around to face the empty room and held his back to her front.  Anyone entering the room would see them, wedged into the corner, compromised.  Her long bald tail coiled about his ankles so he couldn’t get away.
	“Faggot.” she whispered sensually, venomously, into her brother’s ear, and unzipped the front of his pants, and pulled his little cock out through the flap.  He actually blushed, for real embarrassed now.  “I saw how hard you got just looking at him.  I bet you would’ve cum in your pants if I hadn’t intervened.  Sometimes your being a faggot has its benefits, little though they are.”  She pulled his cock straight down then let it go, making it slap up into his belly.  He couldn’t help rocking his hips to make his glans rub his belly fur on impact.  “Let me help you with it now.  Just pretend I’m another boy, and I’ll stay quiet so you can believe.  Just look up at the ceiling or at one of these bloody awful paintings and let me make it all better….”
	Madeline held her brother firmly to her body, one hand on his throat, tight enough to ensure he couldn’t look down at her fine, feminine rat paw on his cock, ramping to a speedy stroke.  She sighed inwardly-how much longer would she’d be able to do this with him as she nibbled her way down his ear to neck?  Soon her breasts would start developing, and it’d be impossible for Cecil to fantasize about his being beaten off by some random boy when she did it.  Much more gently than she liked, she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, nipping now and then, unable to help herself from biting.  He began to pump his hips against her, seeking his way toward release.  Madeline peered down at his cock, which was turning red and motioned blurred as her grip and speed had its effect.  His glans swelled.  A few thin, white strings of cum pulsed from the tip and fell impotent to the wood floor.
	“Ma-Ma-Madeline, s-s-stop!” He whined, as she continued to jerk him off.  She could keep going.  The struggle would turn real if she did.  Her pussy moistened just thinking about it.  “Madeline, p-please!” He pleaded, and he began to sag against her as his knees weakened.  Daddy would hear if he started crying, or wonder what was taking them so long.  She let him go.
	“Lick it up, Cecil.”  He considered the command.  She did, after all, let him go, and he did rather like the taste of his own essence.  And if it amused his beloved sister, then it was worthwhile enough to do.  Nevertheless, he flushed as he got on his knees and licked up his own cum.  When he arose, Madeline had her dress hiked up above her knees and was furiously fingering herself using a little of his cum as lube.
	“Gross.  So you think we should take Ms. Fitzwilliam?  She looks like she’ll be strict.”
	Madeline slowed her self pleasure and answered: “The other cubs are all boring as dirt to look at, none are even remotely likely to be anything, let alone a faggot, and I’m willing to accept a strict nanny for a sweet treat to molest.  Aren’t you?”
	“I’m less into the ‘molest’ part than you are, Maddie.  But I would definitely like to get inside him or have him inside me.  I suppose I’m willing to get spoken to extra sternly in favor of such a sweet looking piece of ass as that.”
	“I thought-What was that?”  Madeline pulled her hand out of her dress and licked it clean as the sound that startled her came again.  
	“It’s Father at the door I think.  Come in!”  Cecil said.
	Horatio poked his head into the room, and scanned for his children.  If he was surprised that they were huddled and disheveled looking in the corner of the lounge with fine chintz seats by a roaring fire on the other side and a wet spot on the floor between them, he kept it to himself.  
	“So?” he asked.  “Do you have a decision?  Or shall I pick one of them for you?”

	Madeline and Cecil sat on either side of their father.  Enormous windows opened upon rain drenched airplanes taxiing around the runways.  It was as gloomy inside as it was out.  The cubs leaned into him as he spoke softly and made promises about his next diplomatic mission, passing on some sort of familial comfort in the uncomfortable public waiting space.  Ms. Fitzwilliam and Winston sat facing them across the aisle, uncomfortable themselves in the cheap plastic seats and trying not to appear like they were listening in on the family as they waited for Mr. Linkletter’s flight to begin boarding.  Winston clutched his mothers skirts like a boy half his age still, and stared surreptitiously at the other cubs, but in particular at Cecil.  He winked cheerily every time he caught the shy boy’s gaze.
	“NOW BOARDING FLIGHT 218, NONSTOP FIRST CLASS TO MOSCOW.”  The announcement repeated twice, and the attendant at the booth nearby began organizing the crowding businessmen and people of means flocking to get the best of the best seats.  
	Horatio disentangled himself from his children and stood up as the echoing announcement faded below that of the ambient noise.  Everyone rose with him.  He turned to his children and put a hand on their shoulders and spoke sternly.  “You two be good for Ms. Fitzwilliam while I’m gone.  I don’t want to be getting any phone calls while I’m abroad about you two behaving improperly.  I’ll remind you I’m helping negotiate some important political documents and being interrupted during them could be very bad for all the parties involved, including the three of us.  You understand me?”
	“Yes father,” his cubs said, lowering their heads.  
	“Good.  I’ll be home in a month or so if things go smoothly, as I expect them to.  I’ll call if things take a bad turn and I have to stay longer.”  Mr. Linkletter released his cubs and turned to Ms. Fitzwilliam.  “And if you and Winston have any needs while you finish settling in, please don’t hesitate to ask the other staff, they’re all good people and will be glad to help.  Thank you also for moving in and taking over my children’s care so quickly, it really takes a lot off my mind at a time when I can’t afford to have anything else on it.”
	“Of course, thank you Sir.  You’ll fine Madeline and Cecil well cared for upon your return.”
	Cecil and Madeline’s eyes met, and they shared a secret smile that only Winston spied from behind his mother.  They wandered a short and inconspicuous distance away from the conversing adults and shy boy and conspired.
	“He keeps staring at me.  He must like what he sees, even if he isn’t sure of why he likes it.”
	“Do you really think he’s gay then?”  Madeline asked.
	“Almost certainly, Maddie.  Trust me.  I can smell my own from a mile away.  When have I ever been wrong?”
	“Well, there was that-”
	“Time three years ago,” he finished.  “I was seven!  I was barely out of the closet myself!  I’ve learned a lot in the last three years.  But, anyway, I know just how to be completely sure and I can do it before we even leave the airport.”
	“But how?  We’re gonna be leaving any minute now!”
	“Just wait, you’ll see.”
	“LAST CALL FOR FIRST CLASS BOARDING, FLIGHT 218 NONSTOP TO MOSCOW”  Again, the message repeated twice.  Horatio and Ms. Fitzwilliam conversed faster and the father pulled his luggage closer to himself, but it wasn’t until the attendant called to him that they broke off their hurried discussion.
	“Kids!  I’m going now!”
	Cecil winked at his sister and mouthed, ‘just wait’, and they hurried to give their father a hug.  He departed in a hurry, almost leaving his carry-on and was through the hatch a moment later.  Ophelia gathered her charges.  
	“No sense in tarrying, let us be off.  I’m sure that the chauffeur is bored to death of waiting on us to depart.”
	“But that’s what he’s paid for, isn’t it?”  Madeline asked.  “He gets a handsome sum so that we can go where we please when we please.”  They all started off towards the lobby, and the waiting limousine.  
	“Don’t be condescending, young lady.  He makes a wage on it yes, but that’s no reason to deliberately and callously inconvenience or delay others.”
	“If you say so,” she drawled.  Cecil chuckled and earned himself a piercing look.  It made him shiver.  What had his father been discussing with her just before he scrambled for the boarding platform?
	His sister dropped behind with him and tried to stick her hand into his pocket, but he shook his head and knocked it away.  Now wasn’t the time; he was neither in the mood to be fondled, even by her, nor was it the time.  She withdrew, irritated.  He shook his head and mouthed, ‘just wait’ again.  He moved abreast of the nanny and tugged on her sleeve as they entered the lobby, brushing by and smiling at Winston in the process.
	“Ms. Fitzwilliam, I need to use the bathroom before we go.” Cecil said, affecting as whiny, childish voice as he could muster.
	“Oh, that is a good idea Cecil, perhaps we should all try before leaving.  We have been here rather a frightfully long time, and the trip home is not so short either.  Madeline, with me, Cecil and Winston, the boys room.”
	Ophelia led the way to the restrooms, and the Linkletters fell to the back of the group.  ‘Clever.’ Madeline mouthed, just before turning into the women’s room with the nanny.  Cecil smiled, and proceeded through the other door, and held it open for Winston.  
	With multiple flights in varying stages of boarding, the room was empty but for the boys and someone in the furthest stall, listening to music on their phone.  Winston stood to the side, looking unsure of himself.  How endearing, Cecil thought.  
	“Don’t you need to go?” he asked, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants right in front of the other boy.  
	“N-not really.”
	“Oh, well, okay.”  Cecil pulled out his penis, stiff just from being so near this handsome boy.  Winston ogled it, ears turning red as the setting sun on autumn leaves.  He left it in plain view for him to enjoy for several seconds, giving it a couple of soft, sensual strokes, then turned to the child urinal.  He stood at a wide angle, so that if he chose, the other could observe him pissing.  He couldn’t tell if he did for sure, but it certainly felt like he was being watched.  Yes, he was just the boy he and Maddie were looking for.
	He stepped away then turned quickly to see Winston still staring.  “You like it?” Cecil asked, giving his freshly flaccid cock a few more rubs and making it hard again.  Winston looked away, and he put it back in his pants, sad that he’d have to let Madeline take care of it in the car.  	
	“Come on, they’re probably waiting for us.  We should go.”
	“But…”
	“Unless you’re gonna go pee, no buts.  Madeline and I wish to get home.”
	Winston hustled to the vacated urinal.  Cecil did his best to get a good look at what the boy was packing, but he couldn’t get a good view without risking giving himself away too soon, and that would make getting him to open up harder.  Best to just make himself obvious and wait for him to come to him.  After all, he and Maddie were his only playmates.
	The boys washed their hands, then Winston followed Cecil back out into the thronging airport lobby where the girls were waiting for them by the exit.  Through the automatic glass doors, their limousine waited to take them back to the estate.  Ms. Fitzwilliam led them out and ushered them into it, then went and sat in front.  
	In the back seat, Madeline sat next to her brother directly below the closed connecting window, facing the back and boldly stuck her hand into her brother’s pocket.  Their tails curled about each other’s waists in a blatant, possessive, and completely inappropriate display of intimacy for siblings or children.  Winston stared as the front of Cecil’s pants rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell in time with the flexing of his sister’s bicep.  Cecil closed his eyes and pretended it was the hand of the boy across from him playing with his penis and breathing on his neck.  Madeline delighted in putting on a show for the new boy.  

	A week later, Cecil wandered about the garden at the back of Linkletter estate.  It stretched over fifteen acres in every direction from its center and its nearside abutted the building on both the east and west wings.  It was his favorite place to be outdoors.  The greenhouses were worked into it and housed all manner of exotic flowers with sweet scents and stunning blooms, and the rest of it was filled with topiary that were equal parts art and plant.  It brought him a sense of peace whenever he sat on any of the dozens of ornate marble benches that dotted it, or as he strolled among the maze-like paths of hedges, flowerbeds, and fruiting trees and shrubs.  Only himself, his sister, and the gardeners ever spent more than a few minutes there, and so it was always a calm place to relax where you were unlikely to run across unwanted persons that could put an end to fun.
	In the aftermath of last weeks rain, which rendered the gardens more of a marshland than anything else, was now hot and brutally humid in the partial, but scorching sun of early July as the last of the clouds passed overhead, each searching for a new home to piss on.  Midges, gnats, and mosquitoes were out in full force, ensuring it as the safest and most pestilential place to hide from the omnipresence of the help.  He hadn’t done anything wrong; at least, not yet.  He did have a room that needed cleaning, but he, like his sister, refused to do the maid’s or nanny’s work for them.  What was the point of servants if they didn’t do the things you didn’t want to, the very tasks for which they were paid to perform?  
	But Cecil had a real objective in seeking the gardens, and his objective came into view in a familiar and remote corner of the gardens, framed by hedges, the woods beyond the estate’s wrought iron fences, and tucked quietly behind a small rotary path with thick bushes in the front that blocked line of sight to the windows across the whole of the estate.  It was rather a favorite spot for himself and his sister to produce and conduct their devious plans when the weather was nice and victims were at hand, and so he had shown it to him at the first opportunity as a place to come and relax with his comics.  Cecil scoffed inwardly at Winston’s plebeian choice of reading material as he luxuriated in the memories he and his sister had perpetuated on this spot, and of which this small boy remained wholly unaware.  It was enough to make him hard.  
	“Hi Winston.  What’cha reading?”
	“Huh?!  Oh, it’s you, Cecil.  Just a comic.  Superwolf, he’s my favorite,” he said, revealing and swooning over the buff wolf on the cover, then lowered it, forgetting to be shy.  “Do you read comics?”
	“Not in a long time.  I read mostly novels these days.  There’s a novelized version of Law and Order, Special Victim’s Unit that I rather enjoy in spite of the tiresomeness of the defendant never getting away with it.  I suppose part of the draw of comics is that the villain might get beaten, but he or she is always there to terrorize again for Superwolf to take down.  It would be rather boring if Superwolf won and then never had anyone else to fight.”  Cecil took a seat next to Winston, keeping a few inches away, and then leaned into his personal space on the pretext of looking at the pages.  It was an unreadable mess of colors, faces, and nonsense words like ‘brrr’ and ‘nyoom’.  Oh how he wished there was another gay boy on his intellectual level.  Such a thing would have been wonderful.  “I think I might have some of my old comics stored away somewhere.  If I find them, would you like them?  You can keep them if I do.  It’s not like I’m ever gonna read them again.”
	“Oh wow, really?!  That’s so nice of you!”
	“That’s only if I find them though.  I never said I was gonna go out of my way to do it.”  Winston’s face fell.
	“You mean you aren’t going to give them to me?”  
	“No, I mean I will find them, just maybe not for a few days.  I have other things that I need to do first.”  He said, backtracking and cursing himself.  That is not how you get into another boy’s pants.  He tried a redirection tactic.  “Tell me about this comic?  Who is Superwolf fighting in this one?  What’s the issue number?”
	“Oh!  It’s….”  He flicked to the cover again.  A big glossy three-hundred and eighty-nine was embossed into the cheap paper in red and yellow.  He flicked back to his page and continued;  “In this issue, Superwolf goes up against these weird alien guys that seem to know all his weaknesses.  He even needs a little help from another hero, Batfox and his sidekick Catcat.”
	Cecil held up a finger, but Winston, in full flow and gushing about the comic, plowed onward.  “The aliens apparently come from a planet near his home world, because Superwolf isn’t from earth, and are a species that had bad relations with his species, so as possibly the last survivor of his entire people, they put their grudges on Superwolf.”  Cecil put his finger down and nodded encouragingly.  
	“Obviously that’s not fair, and Superwolf is a good guy, so he tries just talking to them and reasoning out to them that things aren’t what they seem.  The aliens don’t believe him, and use a magic rock that steals away most of his powers.  That, of course, is when Batfox shows up to talk with Superwolf, and sends the villains packing.  BUT, of course Batfox doesn’t know what they’re capable of…”
	Cecil listened patiently as Winston continued to expound on the dynamics, combat and dramas of the comic, all the while thinking about how to get him to open up in other ways.
	“So then another guy shows up, and he happens to know something important about these aliens that Superwolf and Batfox and his sidekick don’t know, and that’s when they figure out how to defeat them!”
	“Huh, all those characters are boys.  Are there any girls in it at all?”  Cecil asked.
	“Well, there’s one, but she’s just the girl that Superwolf is always trying to save, but that’s okay.  Girls are icky anyways.”  
	Sensing an opening, Cecil struck.  “Yeah, girls are gross, aren’t they?  Not like boys who are strong and cool and handsome.”
	“Yeah!  Who needs girls anyways?  They just spread cooties.”  Cecil couldn’t help laughing at that.  How childish!
	“What?  Girls do you know!  Don’t laugh at me!”
	“What?!  No, I’m not laughing at you!  No, it’s just the truth.  That’s all they’re good for.  Bothering you when you don’t want to be bothered and spreading cooties.  I have a sister, I know all about them and their cooties.”
	Winston was mollified.  Cecil closed the gap between them, so that their legs and shoulders almost touched.  “Yeah, girls are so nasty.  Can’t let them get close like this.”
	“Yeah…”  he said, uneasy.
	“Something wrong Winston?”  Cecil batted his eyelashes.
	“Uhh, maybe?  I’m fine, I guess.  I just feel a little weird about you being so close, that’s all.”
	“Because I’m too close?  Do you want me to give you some room?”  
	“Yes?  No?  Like, I don’t know you well, but it also feels kinda nice?”
	“Nice?  Nice how?”  Cecil asked with a disarming smile.  
	“Nice like- like, it makes me feel a little warm.  I don’t know why, this didn’t used to happen.  It only started when I got close to boys that I liked back before Momma moved here.  I think something might be wrong with me.”
	“Oh Winston, there’s nothing wrong with you.  I know exactly why you feel like that.  I feel like that too.”  He put his arm around Winston’s shoulders and hugged him into his side.  The younger boy flushed and his tail fluttered side to side.  He struggled halfheartedly to escape.  Cecil was not fooled.
	“You do?  What is it?  You feel that way too?”
	“I do.  And it feels even better, I bet, with my arm around your shoulders, even if it also makes you feel a little uncomfortable.”
	“It… it does, yeah.  It’s kinda funny.  Uncomfortable, but I kinda like it.  Makes me feel like something is moving around inside me.”  Poor boy.  Cecil shook his head imperceptibly.  Hasn’t had someone to talk to his age for weeks, possibly months.  Starved for physical attention from other males too.  All the better for him, it made getting under his guard easier.  He grinned.  This might be too easy.
	“Well don’t worry Winston, I’m your friend now, I know what’s happening, and it’s a good thing, for us boys.  But it’s best if it stays just between us boys you understand.  The girls and women like your mom or the maid don’t need to know about it.”
	“What?  Why?”
	“You said it yourself.  They’re just girls.  They wouldn’t understand.”
	“Ooh, okay.  I get it.”
	“So, since we’re friends, you want me to tell you why you feel like you do near other boys like me?  And why I feel the same way?”
	His eyes went wide.  “Yeah!  Please tell me!”  
	“It’s because,” Cecil lowered his voice and put his muzzle to the boys ear, “we are both gay.”
	“What does gay mean?”
	“Shh!  The gardener that’s on today is female!  Though come to think of it, no adult, male or otherwise, need to know what we do together.”
	“Oh!  Sorry!”  He lowered his voice.  “what does gay mean?”
	“It means,” said Cecil, making a show of finding the right words before continuing, “that you like boys.  I mean… LIKE like boys.”
	“Like like boys?  You mean in that way that girls say that they like boys?”
	“That’s the way.  But when girls do it, it’s gross.  But between us boys, there’s nothing more natural!  Definitely fewer cooties!”  Winston giggled like a girl.
	“Okay, but why does it make me feel this way?  I don’t really understand.  What does it even mean to like someone like that?”  Winston asked.  The wagging of his tail slowed.  Cecil chose his words with care.  
	“Well, when girls like someone, they usually mean devotion.  To put it another way, they don’t like it when their boyfriend does the special feel good things to or with other boys and girls.  But when two boys are like that, we are free to do all the nice, special, and fun things, but without having to give up other friends or get cooties.  And why does it make you feel the way it does?  No one really knows for sure.  But it feels good, so why not enjoy it?  I like like you, Winston, and I’d like it if you like liked me too.  I could show you so many fun and good feeling things if you just tell me you want me to.”
	Winston fidgeted in silence for a long time, where only the occasional slap of a hand killing a mosquito and gentle wind intruded.  Cecil was surprised that a commoner boy was capable of such deep and prolonged thought, but he let him think uninterrupted.  He was on the verge of victory.  
	“What kind of things?”  Winston asked at last.
	“What kinds of things?  Oh, all sorts of things.  Things that your mom, like most girls, try to keep hidden from you.  From us.”
	“L-like what?”  Cecil gave real consideration to how he should approach it.  Should he launch straight into the main attraction?  
	“Well, have you ever considered... kissing?”
	“What?!”
	“Shh!  Quiet!”
	“Sorry!”  He whispered.  “Kiss a boy?!”
	Cecil smiled.  “Yeah, kiss a boy.”  
	“That’s gross!  But who would I even kiss?  I don’t know that I wanna kiss anyone!”
	“It feels good once you get pass the initial shock of what a good kiss feels like, and you have me.  I’d like to kiss you.”
	“Does it really feel good though?”
	“Yes!  I’ve done it with other boys lots of times, it’s really nice.”  Cecil pulled a dumdum from his pocket.  “You like root beer?”
	“Who doesn’t?  But what does that have to do with-with kissing?”
	“You’ll see in a moment,”  He said while sucking on it.
	Winston remained doubtful.  “Is kissing the only thing that boys who like-like each other do?”
	“Not at all!”  Cecil took the other boy’s hand into his own.  “There’s hand-holding, though that’s pretty girly.  But if it’s okay with you, then I’m okay with it too.”
	“That is really girly!  No thanks!”  He took his hand from Cecil, but he wasn’t perturbed by it.
	“There’s two other options, and they’re the best of the four, but I won’t tell you what they are until you kiss me.  Trust me, you’ll like it.”  
	“Well, if you’re sure,” he said, doubtfully, “and only if no one is looking!”
	“Of course.  Just open your mouth, close your eyes, and let me do everything.  It’ll feel weird, you’ll want me to stop, but just let me do it, you’ll love it once you get past that shock, okay?”
	“Al-alright.”
	He did as he was told, like a good boy.  His mouth was small and his lips were moist.  Cecil tossed the remains of the dumdum over his shoulder and leaned in.  Winston stiffened as he touched his shoulders and turned him for a better angle, and pushed back when their lips touched, and it almost became a struggle when he put his tongue into his mouth and began to explore it.  After a moment, he relaxed, and only shivered in his hands as he made out as sweetly with him as he could.  Unsure of what to do, he tried and failed to mimic the movements of his tongue, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless.
	“So, how was it?  Did you like it?”  Cecil asked, pulling back after a moment, then licked his lips of the boys saliva.  It was sweet, all on it’s own.
	“I…”  He stared off into the distance for a second, ears rosy red on the inside.
	“Go on.  Tell me!  What did you taste?”  
	“I-I tasted root beer.”  Cecil beamed.  
	“You must’ve enjoyed it at least a little bit then.”
	“I-I guess?  It made me feel really hot.  And uncomfortable.  But in that way that feels kinda good like, like we were talking about.  I feel all shaky now.”  He held up a hand; it was unsteady.
	“To be expected.  If it’s not really your thing, don’t worry, we don’t have to do it.  But I do like it, so if you ever want to kiss again, I’d be happy to anytime, anywhere.  As long as no one is watching, of course.”  He winked.
	“Oh.  Yeah.  I don’t want anyone to ever see me doing that!”
	“So, do you want to know what the other things are now?”  Cecil side-eyed him with an evil looking grin.  He wanted to just dive between his handsome legs and get sucking, but he would remain patient a little longer.  He was nearly there.
	“What are they?”
	“You remember last week, when we were at the airport, yes?”
	“What about it?”
	“Remember when I pulled my penis out in front of you before using the urinal?  You couldn’t look away from it the whole time, even while I was going.”
	“No way!  I didn’t look!  I swear!”  Winston flinched, mortified.
	“Shh, it’s okay, Winston.  This isn’t a school locker room and I’m not a jock.  I knew you were looking and I wanted you to look.  I already knew I like-liked you when I did that.  I did it because I wanted to be sure you were gay, like me.  You can’t do gay boy things with boys who aren’t gay.  I’m sure you felt very uncomfortable when I did that, but I’m willing to bet that you liked it anyways, just like now.  It’s okay, you can admit that you were looking, and that you liked what you saw.”
	Winston looked everywhere but at Cecile, and Cecile preened inwardly.  He unbutton his pants and hooked his underwear beneath his balls.  “It’s okay Winston, you can look again if you want.  See?  I like you, and I want you to see it if you want to see it.  If you’re too embarrassed to look, you can touch it instead.  I’ll guide your hand to it.
	“Feel how hard I am.  Boys get like this when they like other boys.  The harder, the more they like it.  See how hard I am for you.”  Cecil took his hand in his own again, and this time placed it over his erection.  He didn’t resist.  Soft warmth closed over his cock as Winston tightened his hand around it, and Cecil sighed.  Winston took his hand away immediately.
	“Did I hurt you?!  I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean to!”
	“What?  No, no, you didn’t hurt me!  It just feels really good to have someone touch it.  If you’re too nervous, and don’t want to look at or touch it, maybe you’ll let me look at or touch yours instead?  I promise it will be the best feeling thing ever.  You can trust me.  You liked the kiss, didn’t you?”  Cecil stood up in front of him, not bothering to hide his erection, making sure it entered Winston’s field of view, then crouched in front of him as he nodded.  “Come on, you’ll like it.  If you don’t, I’ll stop.  I pinky promise.”
	Cecil stared into Winston’s glassy brown eyes while kneeling on the cold flagstone path with his pants around his ankles, and he nodded again.  He was wide-eyed and open-mouthed; shocked and possibly somewhat haunted by what he’d gotten himself into, but Cecil cared very little at the moment.  He’d succeeded in worming his way past his childish sensitivities and inexperienced guard, and now he could satisfy his sexual hunger.
	Gently, Cecil put his hands on the other boy’s knees and spread them apart, then moved between them so he couldn’t close them.  Slowly, so as not to alarm him, he moved his hands up Winston’s legs and to his button and zipper and undid them.  
	It was a small relief to see that he had an erection hiding under the tight white cloth of his underpants, and Cecil nuzzled his prize before he finished unwrapping it.  When he rubbed his cheek possessively over the boy’s virginal dick, Winston sighed.  Wanting to maximize his time, he moved on and pulled his underwear under the other boy’s balls and nuzzled it again, but without the fine barrier between his nose and the soft peach colored rod of flesh that protruded from dense orange and white fur that surrounded it.  
	Winston’s penis was a little bigger than he expected it to be, but he was pleased with the discovery.  The last boy had such a tiny little dick, it had been too small to get it inside.  This magnificent tool would be worth riding.  He was circumcised like himself.  In spite of it’s overall size, it was still narrow and undeveloped like his own, but the glans was full and robust; a shower, not a grower.  There was a slight rightward curve to it that interested him.  Cecil began masturbating, and took the other boy’s cock into his muzzle.  He hoped that he produced cum.

	A short distance away, Madeline hid in the bushes and recorded everything on her phone for him.  Her knees had begun to cramp and she was worried that her precious brother wouldn’t succeed in charming the pants off the boy.  Without a broken heart, the crying when she took her turn with him would be that much less satisfying.  When they were done and gone, she sent the video to Cecil’s phone and stood.  Her panties were ruined.

	Madeline loved knives.  She kept a switchblade in a little pocket she’d sewn to the inside of her skirt.  It hung just below the hem and just off center, and was both reassuring and pleasurable to feel its weight, positioned so that it rested between her legs, always.  Having it there always gave her a little thrill when she stopped to think about it, or sat down and it rested against her private parts.  
	Right at this moment, it was not resting against her vagina, but instead to the left, against her thigh as she leaned against the kitchen counter, fingering the cook’s knives.  She imagined that if the switchblade ever found out she did that, it would get jealous.  It would be thankful the cook never let her in the kitchen anymore when she was on.
	The grip of her favorite settled into her hand like it was made for her.  It wasn’t the largest, the sharpest, or even the prettiest of them all, but something about it’s old, worn wooden handle and heft was special to her, like one day she might do something great with it.
	Cecil gazed lovingly at his sister as she stared into the mirror finish of the knife and continued: “I appreciate that you’re horny and want a turn with him Maddie, but don’t forget that the boys go squealing like stuck pigs after you’ve had at them.  I’ve the luxury of being able to enjoy my lays for extended periods.  If you could just bring yourself to play nicely with them once or twice, things could carry on much, much longer.”
	Madeline passed the knife to her brother and hopped up onto the marble counter.  The knife in her skirt fell into place.  “We need new knives.  If we got new knives, I could take that one and no one would know.  It shouldn’t be in the kitchen.  This one doesn’t belong here.”  He examined it as an object of importance to his beloved sister, then passed it back to her, trying to be interested for her sake.  “I wish she’d teach me to clean and gut the animals she cooks.”
	“It’s very nice.  It’s your favorite, isn’t it?  But that’s not the issue here.  We’re talking about Winston.  You were complaining that you haven’t gotten your chance with him yet.”  
	“I know, I know.  I’m sorry that I have such specific tastes.  I can’t help that any more than you can help being a faggot.”  Madeline set the knife on the rack and took her brother’s hand in hers.  “Things could be so much easier if you weren’t gay and I didn’t desire someone who resisted like the dickens.”
	He sighed.  “Yes, the could have beens, beloved sister.  Never has a faggot like me wanted more than to be able to stick his dick in a pussy and be happy about it than I.  I try anyways because I want to be the boy you need.”
	“I hate that peasant boys are so well protected.  Like, why do the poor even care?  What’s the good of money if you can’t just throw a few thousand at one of them and get what you want?  What are the livestock even good for if you don’t get meat out of them?”
	“That’s a little disingenuous.  They’re worth more than that.  They’re still people.”  Cecil hoisted himself onto the counter and leaned into his sister.  Their tails curled together automatically and she laid her head on his shoulder.  “Beneath us or not, they still have feelings that should probably be considered.”
	“Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it.  Why shouldn’t I be able to just take the sex I want from them?  We’re rich, and the children of someone important to boot.  People literally serve us hand and paw!  At least until one of us needs to get their rocks off, then it’s suddenly a problem!”  She put on a mock of their father’s voice:  “You’re too young, you shouldn’t even be thinking about sex!  You can’t have sex without the other’s consent, that’s rape!”  She returned to her normal voice, and gestured feebly into the empty kitchen.  “What about our needs?  Isn’t that what we pay them to look after?  It doesn’t seem fair!”
	“No, no it doesn’t feel fair.  We’ve always had everything we want, we can pay for anything.  But for some reason, this is the one thing that can’t seem to be bought.  At least the staff is almost all new, or paid well enough to keep their mouths shut if nothing else.  It’ll be a lot easier without them breathing down our necks and telling each other, right?”
	“I guess so.”  Madeline shook her head on his shoulder, tickling his neck with her wiry whiskers.  
	“Hey, that tickles, stop it.”  She pouted and relented.  
	“When will I get my chance with him?  Can we do it together this time?  It feels better when I get to do it with you.  I always like to imagine it’s your little faggot cock in me when I do my thing with the boys.  When I get to hear your voice and actually feel your body too, it makes it so much better.”
	“Soon.  Very soon.  He’s very shy and I may have pushed a little too hard that first time.”
	“Sounds like a skill issue.”
	“It was a skill issue.  I was too greedy for his dick, and I didn’t gain the trust we needed because of that.  I only got him to agree to some light touching and a blowjob.  Thanks for recording that by the way.  It was a good watch.”  Madeline gave him a peck on the cheek.
	“Is that why I have to stay horny for however much longer?”
	“Probably.  I’m sorry.”
	“It’s okay Cecil.  Everyone makes mistakes.  Even you.”
	“At least it has only been a week and a day.  Dad won’t be home for another few weeks, and that should keep Winston and his mom here for awhile on its own.  You just keep filming him whenever we’re doing things without getting caught so I have something of him to enjoy after you’ve had your turn, and in another two weeks, we’ll have a whole week at least in which we can do whatever we want with him and no one, not even his mother, will say anything about even if she can guess what we’re doing.  If we’re lucky, we’ll have a month after that before father comes home, pays the nanny, and she takes Winston and flees.”
	“Okay.”
	They sat on the counter staring into space for some time, before each moved their hand into the other’s lap, bumped them, looked at their hands, then each other, and laughed.
	“Hey, Maddie.”  Cecil asked as he pretended his middle and forefinger weren’t about to go up into the nastiest place on earth.  
	“What?”  she asked.
	“I love you.”
	“I love you too.  Always and forever.”  
	“Always and forever.”  He completed and started playing with his sister’s pussy.

	“Hey Maddie, I think it’s about time.”
	“About time for what?”  She asked, marking her place in her book and rolling over.  
	Cecil sat on the bed as his sister sat up.  “It’s Sunday.  The best part of the staff are on their day out.  It’s been an hour since tea, so the cook is out, probably shopping, and won’t be back for an hour or more.  When she does return, she’ll confine herself to the kitchen making dinner.  Baxter is with the chauffeur, running errands.  Most importantly, the nanny is away, though I have no idea what she’s doing or when she’ll be back.  There’s no one around who can tell me.  It is just us, the old, half deaf weekend gardener, the newer of the two maids, who is currently doing a deep clean of the guest rooms in the east wing… and Winston.”
	Madeline’s eyes shone with excitement.  “When are we getting started?”
	“I’m gonna get started in a moment.  I think it best if I get a few extra kicks in before you join if I can.  He trusts me implicitly now, and I think I can convince him to let me tie him up for a little fun.”
	“I like that.  I can’t wait to see him all tied up, cock hard and waiting for me to slide onto it and make the little faggot cum in me.  Does he really cum so much?”
	“More than me.  He must be an earlier bloomer than I.  You’ve seen his penis.  It’s larger by over a centimeter.  I can hardly wait to see how much you enjoy having it in you.”  
	Madeline leaned over and kissed him.  As usual, he fought back for a moment, then went limp and she let him go.  A strand of saliva connected their mouths.  “Alright, alright.  Where are we planning on doing this?  The garden?  The basement?  Do I need to clear out of the room so we can do it here?”  
	“I want to do it in his room.  I’ve gone out of my way since the first time in the gardens to make every experience fun and pleasurable for him, and done every one of them in his room since the garden, so that it’s easier for him to think about sex while he’s in there.  He sleeps in that room, and he’s something of a recluse, so he can’t really escape the thought of sex unless he leaves it… which he won’t.”
	“That’s devious, Cecile, I love it!”  
	“I thought you would.  Anyways, all this talk of the coming fuck is getting me unbearably excited.  I don’t think it will take me long to convince him and get him tied up, but it’s probably for the best if you aren’t anywhere nearer to his room than here until I’ve got him ready.  Just keep your phone handy.  I’ll let you know when he’s all tied up and I’ve gotten my first go.”
	“I’ll be waiting, little brother.”  Cecil stood up and smiled.  
	“I’ll try not to keep you waiting.” he said as he closed the door behind him.

	Cecil looked both ways before knocking on Winston’s door.  It wouldn’t do to have anyone see him bringing a length of rope into the room.  All of his handcuffs had been confiscated by father before he left.
	“Come in!”  He hid the rope behind his back and opened the door.
	“Good afternoon Winston.  What are you up to in here?  Would you like some company?  I know I could use some.”
	“You’d like company?” Winston asked, perking up at the code word they’d agreed on for their special play.  He put his hand into his pants and fondled himself for a moment with a puzzled look, then nodded.  “Yes, I think I’d like some company.”  He left the Super Wolf toys he’d been playing with and sat on the edge of the bed, spread his legs, and waited expectantly.  While he was turned away, Cecil closed the door and locked it.
	“Great!”  Cecil said, turning to face him and going and standing between Winston’s legs.  He bumped their crotches and ground them together.  The other boy’s cock stiffened.  
	“I have some ideas to make this time special.  You interested in trying them?”
	“Ooh, what are you going to do this time?”
	“Well… If you’re willing to trust me, I’d like to tie you up before we do the main event.”  He held up the rope he was concealing, then deposited it on the bed next to him.
	“Tie me up?”
	“Yeah.  I want to use this rope to tie your hands and feet together.”
	“But why?  That sounds scary.”
	“Oh Winston.”  Cecil shook his head, then leaned in and kissed him on the mouth.  The other boy opened his mouth and let him stick his tongue in and explore without question.  Such a sweet tasting mouth.  
	Pulling away, he said, “Have I been wrong yet?  No matter how uncomfortable you’ve been, you’ve always enjoyed it, haven’t you?  Whenever you’ve asked me to stop doing something, I’ve always stopped.  I promise that you’ll enjoy this, and if you want me to remove the rope, I’ll do it, no questions asked.  I do have one other thing I want to use, but we’ll get to that later.”  
	From his pocket, Cecil pulled a black leather strap with a large red rubber ball threaded onto it and deposited that on top of the rope.  “For now, don’t worry about either of these things.  Let me just make us feel good first, okay?”  He thumbed the side of the boy’s muzzle, cleaning a strand of saliva from it.
	“Okay.  What do you want me to do?”
	“For the moment, just sit there, and let me do all the work.”  Cecil stopped grinding on him and unzipped his pants, then pulled his dick out through the flap in his underwear and fly without unbuttoning.  He laid it across the crotch of the other boy’s pants to gauge.  Then he knelt down to crotch level.  What a big tent Winston pitched!  He unzipped the other boy’s pants, and pulled his cock out through it the same way.  He gave it a few licks and kisses, put the glans into his mouth and sucked on it, then put it back into Winston’s pants and underwear.  
	“Why’d you put it back in my pants?”  He asked.  “Don’t you want to play with it anymore?”
	“Oh, I do.  But I’m going to do it very differently from usual today.  I just couldn’t bare to not get it into my mouth for a moment first though.  You know how much I love your cock.”  Winston giggled at the coarse language, and nodded.
	Cecil opened the flap of Winston’s underwear again, then placed his dick to the undone zipper, and pushed into the opening he created and sighed as his stiffy slid against the other inside his pants.  There was no space inside for them to not be touching; the tighty-whities kept them pressed together.  He pulled back and their penises slid satisfyingly along each other, and then he thrust back in, until their hips met and their balls squished together, separated by two layers of underwear, and two of blue jeans.  
	Cecil stood between Winston’s legs, waist thrust forward, pants zippers mashed together.  Only a tiny triangle of his own penis could be seen, a patch at the base, the rest buried in the others underwear.  “How does that feel?  Do you like my cock in your underwear?”
	Winston nodded.  “It’s… It’s different.  I like how warm you are on me down there.  Sort of like when you have me in-in-”
	“In me, in my butt.”  
	“Y-yeah.  That.”  Winston’s ears turned red and his tail beat against the sheets.
	It was rough, tight, and warm inside.  Cecil humped again.  Most of his penis was visible on the back stroke.  Winston’s dick remained completely hidden, but its outline was clear.  The space his had occupied a moment before collapsed as he withdrew.  The rough fabric rubbing his sensitive glans was hell, but the smooth skin of Winston’s penis and the downy fur of his crotch was heaven.  Would it have been even better if one or both of them hadn’t been circumcised?
	Satisfied that this would work out well enough, he pushed Winston flat on the bed, with his legs hanging off.  Cecil pressed between them harder, and laid on top of him and humped hard and fast while kissing the other boy sloppily.  Winston rubbed back, his soft belly flexing and pushing their rods together harder and faster.  
	Cecil underestimated how arousing having sex like this would be.  Pre slicked their members, making fur and underwear clingy and skin moist.  It increased the friction as much as it eased it, and he found himself on the edge of orgasm sooner than expected.  He wanted to get off Winston and spray his seed over his clothed body, but the other boy had wrapped his arms around him and was holding him hostage as he bucked with him.  
	He came in Winston’s underwear.  Cecil filled the tight space with hot, white sperm that squished between their cocks and soaked into the fur and enveloped him in the golden heat of climactic bliss.  It was pretty damned hot to cum in his clothes while he was still wearing them.  He fantasized about convincing him to wear his cum-filled undies until bed time, when he would invite him to his en-suite for a hot shower and more sweet love-making before bed.  But Maddie would have something to say about the change of plans, and he wanted her to be happy too...
	Cecil got his paws back under himself and slid his penis out of the shared underpants.  The silky smooth cum made it easy and pleasurable.  He examined his handiwork, and was pleased.  A large, whitish wet spot spanned a portion of the cloth, outlining and hugging Winston’s phallus.  
	Winston touched the wet spot and his finger came away sticky.  “Ew, that’s so gross!  Why’d you have to do it like that?”  
	“What do you mean, ew?  You liked it, you can’t lie to me.”
	“It’s still icky!  It’s in my undies!  I’ll have to change them now!”
	“But you were gonna have to take them off anyways.”  Winston was dumbfounded.
	“Oh, yeah, that’s a good point.”  
	He went to unbutton his pants, but Cecil took his hands in his own.  “Wait.”
	“What?  Why?”  Winston asked.
	“It does feel good, doesn’t it?  My cum on your penis?  You liked it before when I squirted my cum all over you down there.”
	“Yeah, it does.”  He acknowledged.
	“Good.  Now just wait.  I want to take your clothes off myself, and I want it to soak into your fur a little before I take them off.”
	“I still don’t know why you like taking my clothes off for me.”
	“It’s for the same reason why I like it when you take mine off.  It makes me feel that hot tingling feeling all over my body.  Isn’t that reason enough?”
	“It seems like a weird reason.”  
	“Don’t worry Winston.  One day, you’ll discover some peculiar things that make you feel that way too.  You’re still new to all this sex stuff, a lot of it is bound to be strange to you.  Speaking of bound…”  Cecil picked up the rope.  “I want to make you feel good now, but I want to use this to tie you up first like I said.  May I please tie your hands and feet together?  Once we start having sex for real, you’ll find it adds something to it, just like the many other things I’ve suggested.”
	“I don’t like it, but I trust you.”  Winston held out his hands, and didn’t resist as Cecil wrapped the length of rope around his wrists.
	“There, that’s your hands.  Is it too tight?  It should be enough so you can’t get out of them, but not so much it’s uncomfortable.  Go ahead, move around a little, struggle a bit.”  
	Winston rubbed his wrists together and pulled on the ropes, trying to get it off.  “I don’t think I can get out of this.  It doesn’t hurt to try and it’s not uncomfortable just having it there.”
	“Perfect.  Now for your feet.”  And he knelt down and took the rest of the rope and bound them in the same way.  Winston wiggled his feet, but again it was nicely done.  
	“Last thing,”  Cecil said, holding up the last item.  “This is called a ball gag.  You open your mouth and bite on the ball, and it straps around behind the head to keep it in place.  It gives you something to chew on and it stifles sounds.  That way, you can moan as loud as you like.  I know how much you like to moan.”
	Winston’s ears turned red.  “No I don’t!”
	“Sure you don’t, Winston.  Sure you don’t.  Now open your muzzle.”  He said, climbing onto the bed and getting behind him.  The other boy obeyed and Cecil secured the gag easily.  Then he pulled out his phone and texted Madeline.  It read simply: ‘Come in five minutes.’
	Having gagged many boys already, Cecil was good at understanding ball-gag gibberish.  Winston spoke, and though it was badly mangled, Cecil got the gist of what he said.
	“Now what?  Well, two things.  First, if you get uncomfortable while we’re having sex, give me a thumbs down.  I’ll be paying attention so that I know to stop and remove the gag, okay?  Give me a thumbs up for yes, and then show me the thumbs down that you’ll use when you want me to stop.”  He was given both in the expected order.  
	“What about your clothes?  Yes, usually they’d have to come off first, but bound and gagged people move around a lot more than you’d expect, than they often intend, and claws can hurt.  That’s why we do it this way-” and Cecil pulled Winston’s shirt up and over his hands, tucking it carefully into the bindings, then inverted the boy’s pants so that they bunched up inside out over his claws and hid the rope on his ankles entirely.  
	“Alright, we’re ready then.  I’d ask for a thumbs up, but that stiffy is all the yes I need.  Okay, I’m going to stand you up.  Ready?”  Winston nodded, and held out his hands, and Cecil helped him onto his feet, then took his spot on the bed, then guided him down onto his lap.  
	He guided his cock into Winston’s anus and hugged the boy to his body.  “Are you ready?  I’m gonna start now.”  Winston nodded vigorously, and Cecil reached around and stroked his penis.  It was sticky, throbbing already, and he was only just sitting there, being used as a sleeve.  
	Any moment now Madeline would walk through that door, and then the real fun would begin.
	
	Madeline listened at the door.  Her dear brother was moaning like the little faggot whore he was, loud enough to hear nothing else.  She unlocked and pushed the door open and peered into the room through the crack, hoping to catch a glimpse of them fucking before either realized she was there.  Winston faced the door, eyes closed, hands tied and held up to his chest, chomping at the gag stifling his sharp, pleasured yips.  She savored the anticipation, stroking herself under her skirt, then stepped in and slammed the door behind her.
	Winston's eyes opened blearily, then focused on her.  Cecil glanced up at her and grinned. 
	"Hey, Madeline," he said.  The boy in his lap made a confused noise around his gag and tried to pull away, but Cecil held him still.
	"Shh," he whispered into his ear, "just trust me.  You’ll love it!"
	Madeline chuckled as she moved closer.  "Trust you?"  she asked.  "Why bother with the lies, Cecil?  We both know he's not going to enjoy this..."
	A fat wet spot stained the front of her skirt.  "I mean, you could at least try to go easy on him," Cecil replied, smile fading, starting at the obscene wet spot.  He shuddered, thinking about where his boy toy’s cock was about to go.  And yet, it being in his sister would make it that much hotter to ride in the future.
	"Please," Madeline scoffed, "I've waited for this long enough.  I’ll have my fun, how I want it."
	Winston panicked.  He gave a thumbs down, but beneath the obscuring shirt, it was hard to tell.
	“Shh, it’s okay Winston, really!  My sister just wants to feel good to.  Yes, I know you don’t like girls.  But like you, I’m too much of a faggot to put my dick in that and like it.  You’ll have to do it for me.”  Cecil pet his side tenderly and kissed his cheek; or tried to, as Winston tilted his head to the side.  It didn’t help, and he began to struggle in earnest.
	“I don’t think he believes you, Cecil.”  
	Madeline came up to them and took Winston's dick in her hand.  In spite of his distress, he remained stiff as a rock.  She savored the opportunity to admire it up close at last, along with the confused whimpers when she stroked it.  She drew the tip of a claw along the underside of his shaft-not enough to damage the skin, but it was enough to make him shriek into the gag. Tears beaded at the corners of his eyes; he looked so betrayed that the pain was only one note among many in the melody of his shock.  Madeline squeezed her thighs together, delighted, unaware of how it made the wet spot grow.  She took Cecil’s stare as adoration.
	Madeline cast off her clothing with cool disdain; her shirt to somewhere she couldn’t see, skirt to her paws and kicked to the side, and her soaked panties into Winston’s face. The underwear fell from his muzzle as she climbed onto him, balanced by her knees on the edge of the bed and Winston’s lap.  He squirmed and shoved his bound hands into her chest, trying to push her off. 
	“What?”  Madeline said, grabbing his wrists and pushing his arms above his head.  “Don’t you want to play with me?”  Her claws pricked his skin and he began to cry, shaking his head in pointless rejection.  
	The struggle almost unseated her.  A knee slipped off the bed and Winston used the distraction to try and roll away.  Cecil grabbed him in a full nelson and laid down, pulling him tight against himself.  Madeline climbed back on, and gained better purchase on the bed.
	“Can you hold him still for a second Maddie?  I slipped out when he tried to roll away.”  She laid on top of Winston, and whispered sweet and sour nothings and licked his ears and whiskers as her brother fixed himself.  Presently, Madeline could feel Cecil resume thrusting into him, from the way the boy's hips rose and fell between her thighs. 
	"Thanks.” he said, putting him back into a full nelson so his sister could resume having her fun.
	"You’re welcome!" Madeline replied, and scooted up until her clit grazed against Winston's cock, still hard despite his futile attempts to wiggle away.  Every jerk away from her would just force more of her brother into him, and he couldn't help but enjoy that part. She reached down and carefully guided the boy's cock into her pussy, then leaned forward and closed her mouth over his.
	After a moment of shock, Winston turned his head to get away from her, but she grabbed his chin and forced her tongue between his lips, as far past the gag as she could get without dislodging it. His gasps and whimpers resonated in her teeth, and his dick was pushed rhythmically, relentlessly into her, by Cecil.  She closed her eyes and enjoyed his twitching and struggling.
	She reached behind him and grabbed her brother's ass.  The movement under her ramped up as Cecil braced against the bed and went to town. Winston whimpered and tried again to pull away.  Madeline grabbed him by the throat, claws digging deep into his soft fur and growled.  He shivered, gasped against her lips, then went limp between them.
	Madeline pulled away and studied him.  His eyes were puffy, red and watery, cheeks stained with tears, fur disheveled and matted in places from the struggling.  He met her gaze and tried to speak through the gag.
	"What's that?" 
	“He says… he wants… us to… stop!” Cecil translated between heavy breaths and thrusts.
	“You want us to stop?”  Madeline said, incredulous.  “But I’m-" she slammed herself down on his lap and moaned. "-just getting started!"
	Another muffled word.  “He said... please.”
	Madeline smirked.  “I understood that one.  They always think saying please will make me stop.”  She laughed, and Cecil chuckled sheepishly along with her.
	"Go on," she said. "Beg, struggle… you can try to scream if you want, I won’t stop you.  No one’s gonna hear you.  Not through that gag." 
	Winston whimpered, shut his eyes, trying to look anywhere but at his assailant, but Madeline kept forcing him to look at her every couple of thrusts.  Grinning like a maniac, she reached around him and grabbed her brothers shoulders, holding Winston tight between herself and Cecil and bit his neck. The taste of blood, sharp, metallic, was exhilarating.  The boy's muffled cries more so, as she rocked back and forth, rubbing her clit as she went. "C-come on," she murmured into his neck, "you're close, aren't you?  Gonna cum in me you little faggot?"
	Two more thrusts, and the combined movement from her brother and the squirming of their captive plaything pushed her over the edge.  Winston came a few seconds after, pained but moaning.  Madeline didn’t give him any kind of break, and road his abused and oversensitive prick into a second orgasm with cruel efficiency.
	She stilled for a moment, breathing heavily, and waited for confirmation that Cecil had also finished, which came when he flopped onto his back on the bed.  Hands now semi-mobile again, Winston brought his covered fists up to her chest to push her away, but she caught them easily and smiled down at him.  He met her eyes; he was broken and exhausted, staring through her, quietly sobbing.  
	Wordlessly she slid off his dick and stood up, stretched, and went to grab her clothes, while Cecil rolled the boy off himself.  When she turned, Winston was clawing at the ball gag with his still bound and covered hands.  Tear stains crisscrossed his cheeks artfully, and his pathetic, flaccid little dick, all wet and streaked with white flopped comically as he struggled.  She regretted not setting up a tripod to film the encounter… but a photo would be nice, so she pulled out her phone, making sure to capture the small trickle of blood on his neck.
	Cecil and his sister got dressed, then turned and faced their naked and shaking captive.  He glanced at Maddie, who was busy enjoying herself.  He couldn’t believe it; literally just finished, and her hand was already in her skirt, fingering that icky, cum filled pussy.  He sighed, and turned back to Winston.
	“I don’t think we need to tell you that you this will stay between us, do we?”  
	Winston shook his head.  “Good.  We’ll play again soon.  And believe me, we’ll know if you tell anyone, even your mommy, about this, and we’ll know within minutes.  Now, I’m not interested in hurting you, like my sister is.” And he cast his eyes upon her again before continuing.  “She doesn’t always need to be involved.  But she will be involved sometimes, and she will hurt you much more than that little bite if you go telling, understand?”
	Winston nodded again.  “I’m gonna take off the gag.  When I do you won’t bite, and you won’t scream.  Then we’ll get you cleaned up and I’ll fetch you a nice treat for being such a good boy for us.”

	Madeline enjoyed each picture as her brother scroll through photo after photo on his phone, giving each time to be recognized, if not appreciated.  A medley of boys scrolled past, groups of them associated to one person, then the next, each a chapter in their depraved escapades.  She reached out and stopped Cecil’s ceaseless scrolling.
	“There, that one!” she said, and he tapped the image so it filled the whole screen.  She loved this one.  An older boy, thirteen, a rat, just like them.  If his fur had been any darker, Madeline might’ve been looking at her brother, three years older.  He was huddled up in a corner, cheek-fur matted with tears, tail wrapped defensively about himself, trying to ward off the picture taker.  She had been that picture taker, and this physical representation of the memory sent a deep and pleasurable thrill through her that started at her toes and shivered its way up to her whiskers and back down.  As it passed to her tail and hips on its return to her toes, she pinned it with her finger to her crotch and rode out the bliss in a loud and ostentatious, moan-like sigh.
	“I swear I should just always stop at this one whether you say something or not.” Cecil said, setting down his phone and stroking his cock soft and slow.  “I wish I could find as much joy in it as you do.  I typically prefer the ones before they’re reduced to tears.”
	Cecil resumed scrolling, looking for one he liked.  Somewhere in the east wing, there was a colossal thump and some shouting.  
	“Hey, I think that’s Daddy!  When did he get home?”  Madeline said, slipping her finger out of her pussy.  
	“Don’t know.  Lets go greet him.”
	“Nah, I want to keep laying here.  I want to finger myself and watch your little cock twitch while we look at all our past playthings.”  She grabbed her brother’s cock and stroked it for him with her wet hand.  He grimaced and it wilted a little.  She shook her head, wiped her hand on his discarded shirt, then bent over him to start sucking on his prick.  
	“Ah, Maddie, stop that!”
	Spitting his dick out of her muzzle she said; “No.  Just close your eyes and pretend I’m Jacko or Winston or something.  I want your cum.”  She took his cock back into her mouth and sucked on it.  In the few moments it was out of her mouth, it had wilted more in the cold.  She was okay with that.  It added to the challenge of getting him off.  Just as she was getting into it, and her precious brother’s cock was starting to stiffen again, there was a bang on the door.  Madeline’s gaze shot up to the door, then her brother, and back.  Cecil took the chance to pull his pants up.
	“Madeline!  Cecil!  Are you in there?”  Each word was punctuated with another fierce bang on the door.
	“One second Dad!”  Cecil called.  Madeline rolled onto her back, pulled her skirt into a lady-like position, and wiped her mouth of drool as Cecil stood, buttoned his pants, and went to the door.  
	Horatio burst in the second the door was opened a crack, forcing his son out of the way as he entered.  He came in a few feet, stopped, and sniffed.  “It smells like sex in here.  Is it true?  Did you hurt this one too?  God damn it, what is wrong with you two?  When will you learn?”
	Madeline looked down at the phone between herself, her father, and her brother.  The phone was unlocked, and an upset Winston, tied and trussed on the bed, covered in cum filled the screen.  Her naked rear and Cecil’s dripping erection were in the frame.  Horatio's eyes followed hers, and he stepped forward, picked up the phone and stared ast the screen as it went dim.
	“Please, don’t be mad, daddy!”  Madeline pleaded as her brother stood in the corner, still processing shock.  “We were just playing!”
	“Playing….?”  Horatio said, seizing, as usual, on the idea it was all innocent fun as he started scrolling through other images.  “Yes… playing.  Of course.  Children do play rough and like to explore.  But this is too much!  This is the seventh servant boy you two have hurt with your ‘playing’!  It has to stop!  Even if I can afford to pay every nanny you have off, I won’t.  Therefore you shall have no more nannies.  Instead, you will learn responsibility, and the value of people who are below your station.”  Horatio shook his head, staring between his children with anger and disbelief.  “I’ve been home less than a day, but I have already been called away.  But this time, you two shall come with me.  Perhaps seeing how those less fortunate than you live will teach you to be nicer to them.  Your tutor has also resigned, in the wake of hearing about your antics.  You will now attend public school.”
	“What?!”  Madeline and Cecil said.  
	“You can’t do that!  Their education is inferior!”  Cecil continued.
	“We’re above that, Daddy, you can’t put us with them!”  
	“I can, and I will.  It’s high time you learn from others your age how to act, since a nanny isn’t working.  On top of which, you’ll not be allowed TV, books, or your phones while we’re away.  Start packing.  I aim to catch the seven o’clock flight.  We will need to be out of here immediately after tea, and tea is in less than an hour.  You understand me?”
	The cubs nodded, mute and numb.  They weren’t used to being ordered around.  Neither of them liked it.  Cecil took it peaceably enough, but Madeline fumed, and fingered the switchblade hidden in her skirt without being conscious of it as their father turned, their phones in hand, and left, slamming the door shut behind him.