Sean and Ian sat in the back of the car and each stared out their window. Sean smiled warmly and watched the earliest Trick-or-Treaters out with their parents. A pair of hyena pups dressed as a banana and a bunch of grapes held hands as they walked down the street. When one stopped, the other stopped, and when one went to touch the cotton cobwebs the other had to rub it to. An older hyena behind them followed close with her cell phone out to snap picture after picture of the little cuties. A tickling in the back of his brain reminded him of his own plans for the evening and he turns from the scene, a little ball of anger ignited deep in his chest at the thought that anything should happen to those hyenas. But he pushes that down, dismissing the idea. There wasn’t a yard in this neighborhood that hadn’t been seen to by a professional gardener. They’d be fine.
	The dog’s mother barked away in the front seat. The Rhodesian Ridgeback was dressed for the party she was about to attend. The frills from the shoulders of her top were an array of bright colors matching those of the trees outside. It contrasted the darker red of the fur on the arm that waved to try to hold her younger son’s attention. Her voice carries on the way it had for the last half-hour, halted only be interjections from Sean and Ian’s father, “I can’t believe you got in a fight at school. Who cares if the other boy called you a girl! You know you’re not a girl! And even if you were would that be so bad? I’m a girl and I run an entire store practically by myself. There’s nothing wrong with being a girl, so why do you think being called one is worth hitting someone over? And who taught you how to fight anyway? We always told you it was better to run away. It was those cartoons you watch, wasn’t it? The superhero ones. Well, I thought superheroes were supposed to be good guys, not thugs that start throwing their weight around the second anyone has a bad thing to say about them. Oh, Mr. Big Man deciding he’s going to hurt anyone who so much as has a cross word for them. How would Megorilla feel about you beating up another kid for no goddamn reason? He’d tell you you were being an idiot and you should have just sat down. What is it? Was your coach slipping you steroids and making your balls shrink so you’re all pissy? Oh, don’t look at me like that. What, you going to hit your ma too? Cause even if I’m a girl I can hit back harder. Don’t you start with me, little boy.”
	“JUST CAUSE IT’S HALLOWEEN DOESN’T MEAN YOU GET TO CROSS WHEREVER YOU WANT, ASSHOLES!” The bigger dog next to her shouts to the family of hyenas. His ears are pinned back and a genuine growl rumbles out from his snarling muzzle. When the car speeds up again, their mom continues to rant at the puppy whose gone back to staring out the window.
	Ian’s legs are curled up underneath him, his costume hugging the boy’s sumptuous behind, outlining the cub’s briefs perfectly. The cub’s costume was gaudy. Ian was the Yolker, the yolk from a golden egg that went insane after selling it’s shell. He held the golden fur paint tightly in both paws and every word saw him squeeze the lid tighter and tighter. Sean looked back out the window to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. 
	The family of Rhodesian Ridgebacks step out onto the sidewalk, bags in hand. The mom wheels toward Sean and waggles her wrinkled, old purse in his direction. “Now, you remembered to use the restroom before we left, right? Because you aren’t going to be leaving your brother outside with strangers just to take a piss. And don’t forget we’re picking you up at nine, no matter where you are. Keep your phone on.”
	Sean tugs at his shirt, fanning out the hot air from his heavy costume. The leather of his pants clung tightly enough that he could constantly feel it pulling uncomfortably at his fur. The leather jacket didn’t breathe well and he could feel the moisture in his pits as the cooler air traveled through them. Even the bandana he wore over his muzzle trapped the heat of his breath. But it framed his body well. The jacket broadened his shoulders and bent to enhance his pecs. The undershirt and pants showed off his well-muscled body so well that his mother had told him to go without underwear to avoid a panty-line. He says, “Phone’s charged. Piss taken.”
	“And don’t let Ian have any candy tonight. He’s still grounded,” she continues, pulling a fruit-covered hat from her seat. A pained whine coming from behind him is met with a glare that she has to lean over to give. “Don’t let him carry his bag between houses, he might sneak some.”
	“Yes, ma’am.”
	And their steps into the space next to her, “And don’t do anything stupid like leaving your brother behind to chase some tail. We don’t need another missing person for the wall. I know you broke your toy, but if you want to fuck someone he can stay and watch. Save us the trouble of giving him the talk,” He laughs at his own little joke while Sean feels the cold grip of death latch onto his heart. They’d found the shards of it in the bathroom trash a month ago. He’d had to come up with something, and his only answer was that he’d tried knotting it and it broke.
	“Maybe if he actually listens to me,” Sean says, letting out the closest thing he can to a laugh while silently cursing the child. 
	“You heard that little man, you listen to your brother and he’ll let you see a girl naked,” he says, before his wife slaps him gently in the side. 
	“Seriously, no girls. You’re trick-or-treating not replacing your… toy. Get their number then go on your way,” she says, before tugging on her husband’s arm. The pair hug their children before heading into the party for the rest of the evening.
	And Sean smiles, backpack in hand, as he takes the cub he’d been fucking for the past couple months directly to the nearby creek. It was a little hideaway grown wild in the suburb. Sheltering trees grew tall around the leaf-strewn gully through which the water flowed. Ian follows hesitantly, but Sean was confident the puppy was well-trained enough by now to know better than to run. Mostly. Still when Sean points to the giant pipe the creek drained into, Ian pauses. 
	The bigger dog turns on his cell phone light, and says “Just needed a little privacy, pup. For your new costume.” 
	Ian flinches at that, and before he can say anything Sean growls. “I don’t want to hear it! You broke my toy. You’re getting in fights at school. You’re an asshole. You need to learn your lesson. It’s this or we just hang out in this ditch all night.”
	The puppy stares at him defiantly. Sean looks down at the puppy’s angry expression and it almost makes him want to take Ian back up to the neighborhood. He can’t say he hadn’t felt that way before, after he’d tug his knot free of the raging red hole and be left with a crying puppy whining into his pillow. He huffs through his nose, meeting the intense glare of the little dog with his own.
	Ian takes a few short steps into the pipe tall enough that even Sean has room to reach his arm above his head. The puppy looks into the same darkness that Sean’s light shines. It’s empty, nothing but the trickle of water echoing through as each dog hunts for signs of the threats they conjure in their head. Satisfied, Sean clicks off the light to provide optimum cover for the little pup to change.
	“Well, strip,” Sean says. Ian turns back to him, body tense, before turning away to hide his privates. Ian kicks the shoes off his digitigrade paws, careful to avoid the little bit of water flowing through the mostly dry pipe. After stuffing his socks into them, he stands up stiff. The little velcro latches on the back of the onesie come free one at a time, slowly, as the pup inches his way down the back of the shimmering golden outfit. He shifts on his heels as he does so, and the shine of his fur catches the light in ways almost counter to how the golden outfit shimmers against his thick behind. The narrow opening slides free to reveal his back as thin little back, ending just below his tail. He looks over his shoulder to see if Sean was still looking at him, and his half-lidded eyes look almost seductive in the half-light of the tunnel.
	Sean feels his breath catch in his throat. The delicate form of the nervous dog undressing for him tamping down any sort of concern he has for the boy. A feeling of warmth in his loins demands only that the boy continue undressing, that the body before him is laid bare to his touch. The stirring in his crotch pushes out against the tight leather of his pants, and he adjusts the jacket specifically chosen to be long enough to cover whatever bulge may come with tonight’s activities.
	Ian continues to undress, careful to avoid his costume touching the ground, but Sean only focuses on the thick cheeks so obvious through his tight, white briefs. The elder dog wishes the pup had kept his jockstraps, but he’d gotten rid of them all in secret after mysteriously quitting basketball last month. Maybe if he still did that, he wouldn’t be quite such an ornery little jerk. Ian folds the costume into his arms before turning around to look plaintively at Sean. 
	“Underwear too.” 
	The little dog grimaces and passes his costume to one arm. The briefs slide down slowly, catching on the thin little puppy sheath, making his tiny balls bounce gently when he slides them down further. Sean guides his cock sideways through his leather pants, feeling a tingle of pleasure splash through it at the sight. It was something he was more than used to, he might even say he enjoyed watching it twitch every time he brought the taciturn pup to orgasm. Which was something he was dedicated to doing every time they had sex. Maybe a little more often, especially when he was too busy to knot the puppy but the little dog was still tempting him.
	The bare puppy looks up at him, eyes and face held firm in the semi-dark. The costume goes into his backpack and out comes his plan for the evening. A rubbery cone nearly as thick as his wrist at the widest part, covered in little bumps, and with a base designed to keep it in place sits in Sean’s hand. The cub’s eyes watch it carefully and he takes a step toward Sean. As quickly, he takes a step back into the darkness. 
	The bigger dog feels an unpleasant hollowness in his gut. He bites the inside of his lip and says, “Turn around. This is going right where you think it is.” And then he grabs a little plastic bottle of lube from a pocket of the bag and pours it liberally on the plug. “You’re going to learn some respect for other people’s stuff even if I have to shove everything in the world up your butt.”
	Ian’s ears fold back and his cute face scrunches up into a grimace. He looks to the ground and his naked body. Seconds pass while he looks at the ground as he breathes heavily, fists clenched tightly at his sides. He turns on one heel and reaches for the side of the pipe. His little body has to lean forward enough that his back develops a slight arch that lights up Sean’s eyes. The puppy’s full behind is on optimal display, the plentiful curvature of the behind filling the hollow space in Sean with a roaring lust. 
	The bigger Rhodesian Ridgeback grabs a handful of ass and squeezes it roughly. Giving it a light smack makes it jiggle slightly and the pup the behind was attached to growl lightly under his breath. The next grab seizes the little dogs tail to lift it out from between those plentiful cheeks. He has to kick apart the pup’s digitigrade legs to get him to spread them enough so that he can see his real goal. The little dog’s anus was far from the speck it was when Sean had first started fucking the cub. Now he can easily slide two of his lube-covered fingers inside without more than a strangled groan from Ian. The hole stretches and struggles against the appendages invade his shuddering body. Sean plays with the little hole, scissoring it and pushing against the now familiar little bump of flesh that made the cub clamp his little mouth closed in an attempt to avoid his brother knowing exactly what he was doing. Nevertheless, small noises mix with the wet, sucking noises as he plays with his little brother’s asshole. The big dog laughs echo through the pipe as the puppy squirms before him. 
	“Breathe deep, pup,” Sean says as he lines the toy up with the stretched hole. He pushes forward and resistance only starts when the plug is more than halfway in, but it’s a simple manner to keep going and ignore the whines from the puppy. Watching the anus pucker around the wide end of the cone  and grip the thin base has his own breathing deepen. He keeps a firm grip on the little base meant to keep the toy from slipping in too deep, and rolls it around in the pup’s anus. The toy pushes hard into the cub’s insides and another deep groan escapes from Ian’s clenching jaw. 
	Satisfied for now, Sean returns from to his bag and wipes his hands off on the Yolker costume inside. The costume he pulls out instead is a far cry from what Ian had been expecting to wear this evening. In Sean’s hands were the components of a bright pink harem girl outfit. The pup stares at it, backing away but finding he had nowhere to go but down the spooky tunnel. He stops in place as Sean grins down at him and his hard little dick.
	Walking up into the street with the costumed cub, Sean can’t help but feel he outdid himself with it. The loose pants weren’t quite see-through, framing the boy’s shapely legs in shadow, and slowly getting less transparent as his eyes traveled up the legs until the shape was only barely visible if lit from behind. At the top of the pants was a golden sash that hung just low enough that it had fully covered the hard-on that Ian was left with when Sean had put the plug in. They’d made sure to keep it loose enough that no one would notice if he popped another one. The midriff was bare, displaying the extremely thin fur of the cub’s stomach, begging to be tickled when Sean had the chance. The top was mostly pink as well, with golden straps holding it tight enough to the cub’s body that you could see his little nipples poking out against it. The headdress and veil completed the costume, gold embroidered into the smooth pink fabric hiding his true identity from everyone around him. On seeing him, Sean had dug the golden furpaint out of his backpack. He’d put some on the pup’s lips, even though they’d be covered, and used a little as eye shadow as well. Sean’s heart had started thumping in his chest at how they made the tearful brown eyes of the pup pop and put his long eyelashes on full display. They were showing much more vividly than he’d ever seen them before.  It was part of the reason Sean’s jacket was now buttoned up to cover himself.
	But now, the biggest distraction the costume provided was the slot for the tail. The costume was generic, meant for tails of any size from fluffy fox to alligator. Buttons were provided to make up the difference, provided the puppy didn’t run too fast or wag his tail too much. But every once in a while, Sean would get a glimpse of the bare fur of his cheeks and his heart would beat twice as fast in his chest for a few seconds. 
	He fiddles on his phone, only occasionally glancing at his little brother as he follows the cub closely. He’d chosen his own mask specifically for the large eye-holes that let him keep an eye out for anyone that might cause trouble, but right now they were mostly useful for making sure Ian didn’t run off while he got things ready.
	The little cub keeps peering around furtively, tail between his legs. His steps aren’t awkward in the way Sean had imagined they would be, short and quick as he huddles over the burlap sack instead of walking like he had a stick in his ass. It was, perhaps, the most suspicious way one could walk through a crowd that wasn’t waving a gun around and screaming. Sean leans forward, taking Ian’s shoulder to whisper in his ear, “Act natural, stupid. Everyone’s going to know you’re some little queer if you can’t convince them you’re a girl.”
	Sean bumps into Ian as the little dog suddenly stops. The pup stares out at all the little groups of trick-or-treaters as they mill around the upscale neighborhood. The night isn’t yet in full swing. And Ian  sighs out from behind the mask, tail low. His steps take on an exaggerated femininity, swaying non-existent hips ever so slightly. Rolling his eyes, Sean holds him in place by his shoulders. 
	“No girl your age walks like that. Just... pretend your in your old costume. And don’t say anything other than ‘trick or treat’ or well, those little nubs on the plug? They can become spikes with the push of a button. I have a button for it on my phone. You’ll never poop right again,” Sean says. It was a harsh lie, he admits, but he wasn’t going to let the cub ruin his life over a little payback when Sean had even made sure Ian was enjoying himself. He walks the nervous puppy forward, pushing him into a crowd of other cubs being propelled forward by their parents. Ian continues to glance around before he pointedly ignores everyone around him.
	“Do you mind if we join you? She’s a little shy,” He says to one of the parents.
	“Oh, sure, hon. You taking your little sister out in just that? She’ll be freezing by the end of the night,” A black cat says from underneath an equally black witch’s hat. Her hand does a weak semi-wave of her fingers when she says it.
	“We have a spare jacket,” Sean says and holds up the bag. He watches the careful approach of the puppy to the door as he says it before glancing back to say, “Spare costume, too. And our parents will pick us up by nine anyway. Is yours the little ninja?”
	It’s not more than a couple blocks worth of awkward conversation for Sean before Ian starts to seem like he’s over his little predicament. He stops pausing and starts running to the door alongside the other kids. His standoffishness fades and he starts letting the other cubs crowd around him. In half an hour, he even starts to pose alongside the ninja cat, an exaggeratedly feminine curtsy where he pulled up his sash ever so slightly . Every little morsel of candy that falls into his bag sees a little bit of life return to the puppy’s tail. Maybe he was onto something getting him a girl’s costume? He didn’t seem to mind looking so cute.
	But soon enough, he gets what he really wants. He hears a voice that might be Ian’s coming from the crowd. It was hard to tell with all the masks, but the reminder couldn’t do too much harm. He flicks his smartphone on in his pocket and slides his finger along the glass screen. The yelp that follows makes him grateful that his mask hides the wide grin on his muzzle. He shouts, “Oh shit! Her voice thing,” and runs over to Ian. The rest of the parents look on as he kneels next to the cub, turning the veiled face to look him in the eye as it struggles to hold back tears. “Okay, stand very still and open your mouth. Don’t say anything.”
	And a show is made as he lifts up the veil to examine the squirming puppy’s throat. He reaches in a thumb to pull down the puppy’s jaw, running across his thin, wide tongue. It was something he hadn’t felt yet, mostly out of fear that he’d try something stupid. But he let’s his imagination run wild for a half a second before pulling back to tell him, loudly enough that everyone around could hear, “You aren’t hurt yet, but you shouldn’t say anything for the rest of the night. You got that? We don’t want to risk you losing your voice forever.”
	And Ian stares at him for a second, mortified. His little head bounces up and down fiercely following the threat. Which makes Sean nod back. Large hands leave the shoulder straps of the costume, and work to straighten out the chest and make sure that the little sash at his waist is positioned properly to stop any undue signs of his predicament. Sean leans forward, giving the cub a gentle kiss on the forehead, before yelling back to the parents of the other kids, “She’s still good. Nothing’s torn.”
	The short jaunt back to the group has him smirking wider, grateful that he could find a leather jacket long enough that still fit his biker aesthetic. Most had made him seem like some sort of kinky longshoreman. But it was worth the hunt, watching the little cub shiver as he walked back to the group. He pulls out his phone for a second, seeing what exactly he’d done.
	The screen was a bright orange with various digital green dials and buttons on it. Each carried with it a little label in small black text. Pulse was set to medium at the moment. That meant that the little machine in the buttplug was pushing out against the rubber at regular intervals. He slides his finger down the switch, and rather than a smooth glide it simply flashes to low. The little knob for the twist function is smoother, switching between four of ten different speeds rather than flashing between two. Now the toy was pulsing, but the tip of it was squirming like the end of a tail and rubbing over the cub’s insides. Combined with the pulse, something was surely hitting something in there. Looking over what remains, he decides he might as well turn on vibrate for the moment. But on low, there was time to build.
	The pup squirms a little in place as he adjusts the settings, but Sean doesn’t hear a word from him. He’s careful to avoid the other people minding their cubs seeing his screen as they go from house to house with the group. But he makes sure to adjust something at every house just to keep the little cub on his toes. If a man answers the door, something goes up. When it’s a woman, something goes down. Cubs send something way up. Trying to make decisions based on species is harder, this neighborhood being mostly richer mammals with the occasional avian family, but eventually he settles on a pattern there, too. 
	It’s a fun night, watching the little red puppy squirm as he collects his candy. The puppy pants as he walks back from the houses, staring daggers at Sean half the time and looking plaintively at him the other. He keeps close to his little brother, hugging him close or occasionally giving him a kiss as they walk. Kids and their parents come and go from the mass that escorts them, trading conversation or compliments on costumes for the protection from predators that traveling together provides. It’s not uncommon to hear that someone was dumping something into the candies, from bits of glass to deadly drugs. 
	The shark that answers the door after an hour is the first rest Ian gets from the device in his behind. He looks back, confused and scared as a full-sized candy bar falls into his bag. Sean’s head lights up watching the little pup’s thick ass flex in the thin costume and the mental image of his needy hole pulling in the toy it was not so long ago desperate to push out.
	“Is something wrong with Ida?” one of the mothers in the group asks. 
	“That’s her ‘I need to poop’ face. We have a family friend like a block from here. We’ll see if they’ll let us use their facilities.”
	And the mom’s titter while Ian blushes behind his mask. Sean only notices from the way the boy’s eyes well up as he did when Sean had first started making him undress for his pleasure. “She used to call it ‘making a messy’ until she was eight. Now she just gives us the look and makes up some sort of excuse,” he explains. And all the parents let out little laughs.
	“C’mon Ida!” he shouts, waving for the cub to follow as he walks down a new street. Ian runs after him, holding his candy close to his chest in the slowly decreasing temperatures. His steps are quick enough that he catches up to Sean mid-street. The road they step into is a cul-de-sac, only one large property stands on any one side of it. Each leave the gates that guard their driveway wide open, ready for any young child to take the long paths up to their towering McMansions. 
	Once safely away from any groups of parents, Sean leans in close to have words with his little brother. His hand drifts down to lift the sash as he speaks, where the bulge from Ian’s little dick stands barely noticeable from the fabric. “You know, you make a good girl, Ida. You’re cute as a button, dumb as a brick, and you love something nice and hard up your ass. Maybe I’ll keep the costume after this and we can teach you to belly dance?” The puppy knows better than to say anything for fear of what the mechanical device on his insides might do. 
	Sean stands back up to get his hand at the right height to push the cub forward by his shoulder. He watches the stunned pup take a few unstable steps and says, “Well, get trick-or-treating. You only have a couple more hours and that bags not even mostly full yet.” The phone still in his hands is attended to. For these houses, he thinks, he’s done taking it easy on his little brother. One by one, each and every function is set to max. “Don’t forget what happens if anyone catches you.”
	The puppy’s steps are awkward and strained as he struggles to keep his composure. Every step sees a little fidget or involuntary shudder as the long walk to the door drains him of some measure of his control. He looks lonely now, slowly and fearfully walking to the door. What the fuck would the guy in there say if he knew what Sean was doing right now. Outside the crowd, alone, watching the scared dog carefully make his way to the door, he comes to a decision. Just this one house. 
	There was a little patch of evergreens next to the garage they could use to fuck out Sean’s built-up lust. Then it could just be a normal Halloween. Ian could have his old costume back and he could do his Yolker voice. “Why so cereal?” Sean says under his breath.
	The double doors of the house are tall and wide, sheltered by an overhang supported by columns. Little white stone statues of men and women in togas hang around the patio. None of them had elected to sit in the pair of white wooden chairs by the door, but several were gathered around a cauldron constantly bubbling steam that dissipated about a foot from where it stood. Alone, Ian rang the doorbell a half-dozen times. He fidgets and looks back at Sean by the gate, desperation in his eyes. The door opens to reveal a tall, thin figure in mummy wraps. The gender of the figure is impossible to determine from this far, but they look on as Ian has a dry orgasm at their doorstep.
	The puppy’s little body shivers and quakes with the intensity that an hour and a half long session of prostate stimulation provides. It lasts for seconds as both the figure and Sean watch the puppy pull the bag of candy close to his chest, desperate groans and mewls escaping his young mouth even as he folds into himself from an intense pleasure. Shocked, the big dog can only sit there while Ian and the figure look to one another.  It takes several long seconds for the little dog to regain some measure of control over himself.
	Ian falls forward and pushes past the man to get into his house. And the door closes.