Obligatory Content Warning:  The following story contains GRAPHIC SCENES depicting MURDER and SEX between and ADULT and a CUB.  If any of this offends you, DO NOT READ ON!!!  By reading beyond this point, you waive your right to be offended by my work, because YOU WERE WARNED.  Now, for those of you who I haven't scared off... enjoy!

Little Frankie sighed as he rode in the back of his father's brand new Studebaker.  He watched as they pulled up outside the opulent mansion, taking a moment to marvel at the architecture -- the pillars, the massive bay windows, the double doors that looked like they could have come straight from St. Patrick's Cathedral.  He didn't have long to gawk.  As soon as the car stopped, his parents pulled him from the seat as the valet climbed in to park the car.  Frankie gave one last glance behind him at the car, taking in the sight of a Rolls Royce before he was dragged in to the massive foyer.  

Frankie stared about in wonder at the foyer.  A massive staircase dominated the middle of the room, with a red velvet carpet covering the stairs.  Above, a huge chandelier illuminated the space, as much from the glitter of its gold frame and crystal hangings as from the electric light bulbs.  Below, an imported Turkish rug covered the floor.  Never before had the boy seen such luxury in person.

Unfortunately, the boy was hardly able to enjoy it.  The suit his father forced him to wear itched terribly, and the bowtie around his neck was practically choking him, but this was of no concern for the kit's father.  Appearances had to be maintained, after all.  If you were invited to a ball thrown by the Vanderfurs, you made damn sure to look your best.

"Now, Frankie," the older male fox said, looking sternly down at his boy.  "Remember to be on your best behavior.  Mr. Vanderfur is a great personal friend of mine, but you mustn't do anything that might offend him or embarrass me.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, father," the young kit replied.

"Good," he said, clasping the boy's paw in one of his as he took his wife's into the other and proudly strode into the ballroom.

Frankie's jaw dropped as he entered the ballroom.  It was the most magnificent scene his young eyes had ever beheld!  The massive room was lavishly decorated with massive oil paintings, and the intricate details in the meticulously paw-crafted pillars were a sight to behold.  The little cub examined the nearest one, marveling at the carvings of fur of various species, posed as though taken straight from Greco-Roman pottery.

His eyes were quickly drawn away by the crowd of furs at the party.  A small team of waiters weaved between the crowd of stunningly-dressed elites.  The males wore stiffly-starched tuxedos, the females in fabulous, glittery dresses, some in white, some in black velvet or silk.  The young kit's eyes were immediately drawn to a slender vixen in a glittery red dress, a stare that did not go unnoticed by the kit's father.

"That's Mrs. Vanderfur," the father whispered to Frankie.  "You'd best be careful around her.  She's notoriously quick to anger, and I'd hate to see you ruin this evening for us."

"Y-yes, father," Frankie muttered, his paw slipping from his father's grip as he wandered into the crowd towards the vixen in red.

"Don't go too far, dear," Frankie's mother called as he slipped into the crowd.

The young kit weaved among the sea of adults, soon getting near enough to hear the vixen in red.

"Oh, yes, Augustus certainly knows his way around the business, but his fashion sense is truly abominable," the vixen tittered, earning many appreciative laughs from the furs surrounding her.

"And where is Augustus?" a male asked.  "He shouldn't be missing his own birthday party!"

"I last saw him in the garden," another female piped up.

"How long ago was this?" another male asked.

"Oh, now," the vixen in red said, "We needn't bother with Augustus.  He is a tad eccentric, after all.  I'm sure he'll make his way in once the mood hits."

Frankie found his curiosity piqued.  While he could not claim to know Mr. Vanderfur -- indeed, this party was the first indicator that his father had known him at all -- he found it odd that anyone should miss their own birthday party.  As stealthily as he could, Frankie slipped out of the ballroom and out the back door.

The sound of furs mingling and the light sound of the live band faded as the little cub emerged into the darkness.  He looked out at the garden, taking a moment to marvel at the large fountain before stepping out onto a path, slowly tracing it around the expansive garden.

Frankie kept his ears perked, listening for any sound from the missing Mr. Vanderfur.  As he walked further from the mansion, the sound of the party faded, replaced with the gentle chirping of crickets.

And then he heard it.  From the other side of a large bush, he heard a gasp and a splutter.  The little cub gingerly pushed aside the bushes.  What he saw filled his young frame with terror.

A shadowy figure was running from the scene, and a fox in a silk suit was on his knees, grasping at his neck, trying desperately to stem a free flow of blood.  It took Frankie a moment to realize that the fur's neck was cut.  He spotted the embroidered "V" on the cuff of the fur's sleeve, and knew it at once to be Augustus Vanderfur.

The little cub ran back to the mansion as quickly as he could, afraid both of the scene he had just witnessed, and of the possibility that the murderer might have seen him.

He ran right in to the party.  No one seemed to notice him.

"Someone killed Mr. Vanderfur!" Frankie bellowed.

All action instantly halted, and all eyes turned to look at the little cub.

"What did you just say?" a male asked, walking up to the young fox.

"Mr. Vanderfur!  The garden!  Dead!" the cub cried, desperately pointing towards the bushes.

A fat wolf emerged from the crowd.  His full dress uniform revealed him to be the chief of police.  "Show me," he said, waving a few other furs towards him.

Frankie ran back into the garden, the other furs close on his heels, and he looked away as he rounded a corner, pointing towards the body.

"My word," the fat wolf whispered.  "It is indeed."  He turned to one of the other furs, a German shepherd.  "Lieutenant, go call in some officers to seal the party.  We must act quickly to solve the murder."

The dog nodded and ran back towards the mansion, and the other furs walked forward to examine the body.

Frankie slipped back towards the house, his mind reeling.  He'd just witnessed the murder of one of the most powerful furs in New York.  Perhaps this was a chance to try out his detective skills...

As he walked back into the mansion, it was immediately obvious that the mood had changed.  The furs were much quieter, gathered up in little groups and speaking in hushed tones.  The cub looked around, and noticed that Mrs. Vanderfur had gone missing.

The little cub snuck up to the nearest group and listened in on their conversation.

"So it's true... Augustus is dead," a male whispered.

"Who could do such a thing?" a female asked.

"Augustus does have many enemies," another male put in.  "It could have been any one of them."

"Or what of the rumors of Mrs. Vanderfur's infidelity?" another male suggested.  "Perhaps it was a set-up --"

He was silenced by the first male.  "Don't suggest such things.  Do you truly think a female is capable of organizing a murder?"

"Where is Mrs. Vanderfur?" another female whispered.

"I saw her heading upstairs, to grieve, I suspect," another female replied.

Frankie slipped away, his young mind working furiously.  Perhaps Mrs. Vanderfur would know something of the murder.  He could begin his own investigation and beat the police to the criminal!  He made his way through the party, unnoticed by the frantic adults, and slowly walked up the grand staircase to the second floor of the mansion.

The cub slowly walked down the large hall.  While he had never before been in the Vanderfur mansion, he surmised that the big double-doors at the end of the hall would lead to the bedroom where he might be able to find the widow.  He reached the door and raised his paw to knock when his sensitive ears picked up the sound of voices inside.  He pressed an ear to the door and listened.

"We shouldn't rush, Victoria," a male said.  "How would it look if you so quickly recovered from the death of your husband?"

"Oh, Stuart," Mrs. Vanderfur replied.  "You are so utterly pigeon hearted.  Have you no sense of adventure?"

There was silence for a moment.  "Of course I have a sense of adventure," the male said.  "But I also value my life.  Augustus has some powerful friends who I don't care to cross at this juncture.  Surely you of all furs could understand that."

"Stuart, I want you," the vixen whispered, barely loud enough for the cub to hear.  "I need you."

"Soon, darling," said the male.  The cub's ear twitched as he recognized something in that voice.  He didn't have long to ponder where he'd heard it.

Mrs. Vanderfur sighed.  "Fine.  Leave for now if you must."

The little cub stifled a gasp and quickly moved aside, just barely avoiding getting hit by the door as it swung open.  He watched as the male walked down the hall, waiting until he was out of sight before he slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him.

Mrs. Vanderfur stood at the window, staring out at the grounds.  Her back was to the little cub.  At this distance, the kit could clearly make out all of the lines and curves of the vixen's figure, lines beautifully accented by her red dress.  Frankie cleared his throat uncertainly.

The vixen spun around at the speed of light, drawing the curtains as she did.  She looked down at the little cub, and cocked her head.  "Who are you?" she asked.  "What are you doing here?"

Frankie stared at the vixen, his tongue suddenly seeming to fill his mouth.  He started to tremble as a chill ran down his spine.  "M-My name's... Frankie," the little cub sputtered.

Mrs. Vanderfur slowly walked up to the boy, looking down at him.  "Hmm... Frankie... how old are you, little one?"

"S-s-seven," the boy said, slowly starting to back away from the advancing vixen.  "I-I'm investigatin' the murder of M-M-Mr. Vanderfur."

The vixen giggled, a sound that was both enchanting and slightly sinister.  "Now, why would you want to do that, little boy?  It's dangerous for little cubs to be meddling in the affairs of adults."

Frankie gulped as he found himself pressed up against the door.  "I-I wanna be a... detective," he muttered.

The vixen let out another giggle, sending another chill up Frankie's spine.  "Let me make a deal with you, little one," she whispered.  "You stop playing detective, and I'll play a special game with you."

Frankie looked up at the vixen curiously.  "W-what kinda game?" he asked.

"It's a special game that adults play," Mrs. Vanderfur whispered.  "It's about the most fun game anyfur can play.  But if I play it with you, you must promise to stop this silly detective business."

Frankie remained silent as he considered the options.  He thought hard, desperately looking around as he tried to make a decision.

The cub's indecision was not unnoticed by the vixen.  "How about I give you a little... preview of the game?" she asked in a sickly-sweet whisper.

Before the boy could respond, the vixen took a few steps back and reached behind her.  Her paws seemed to fumble with something, and then her dress slipped down, revealing her slip underneath.

Frankie's jaw dropped, and he blushed deeply as the vixen began to undress.  He covered his eyes with his paws, trying to avoid the temptation to look.

The little cub heard the vixen moving about, and gasped as he suddenly felt her paws on his wrists.  "Look at me, little one," she whispered as she pulled his paws from his eyes.

Slowly, hesitantly, Frankie opened his eyes.  What he saw astounded him.  Kneeling before him, Mrs. Vanderfur was completely naked.  Her white chestfur beautifully showed off her pert breasts.  He found himself unable to tear his eyes from her bust.

"Like what you see, little one?" she whispered.

The cub merely stared, his breathing speeding as she guided his paws to her breasts.  He gasped as his paws made contact, and before he was aware of what he was doing, he began to rub the vixen's mounds, marveling at the feel of her flesh against his paws.

"Good," she whispered, and wrapped her arms around the cub.  Frankie meeped as she lifted him, but didn't struggle as she carried him over to the bed and laid him on his back.  "Let's get you out of these clothes," she whispered as she began to untie his bowtie.

Frankie whimpered, blushing red-hot as the vixen slowly undressed him, laying his clothes out on the bedside table as she stripped him.  A peculiar feeling filled his body, centered around his suddenly stiff cubhood, and he blushed deeply as his member was suddenly exposed.

"My, my," the vixen whispered as she took the little cub's stiffy between her thumb and forefinger.  "Looks like someone's excited by our game."

The little cub shivered as the adult gripped his little penis.  "I-it f-f-feels weird," he stuttered, trying to wiggle away from the vixen.

Mrs. Vanderfur let out another of her giggles as she crawled up on the bed, pinning the little cub on the bed under her.  "You think it feels weird?  Then let me show you what you're supposed to do with it."

A gasp escaped both furs as the vixen brought her crotch down against the cub's, the vixen's paw guiding his two and a half inches right into her hot sex.  The vixen leaned forward, placing her paws on either side of the kit's head as she ground her crotch into the cub's, rubbing her engorged clitoris against his delicate frame.

"M-M-Mrs. Vanderfur," the cub gasped, shutting his eyes and arching his back as the vixen's sex sent waves of hot pleasure through the young cub's frame.  Without even thinking, he reached up and grabbed her breasts, which were conveniently located just above his head, giving the boy an eyeful of the grown vixen's bust.

Mrs. Vanderfur let out a low moan as she ground her crotch into the young cub beneath her.  A combination of factors drove her on -- the little boy's paws on her breasts, his small, tender cubhood within her folds, the feel of his soft crotch fur against her clitoris, the very thought that she was screwing a young cub.  It certainly helped that the boy bore a certain resemblance to her own lover, though in her heat, anyone with a penis would have been acceptable.

Beneath her, the little cub writhed in pleasure.  The soft sheets against his back felt heavenly, though his mind hardly had time to dwell on that as wave after wave of tingly pleasure flooded his body from the female's hot sex against his rod.  His paws kneaded the vixen's firm breasts, and he held his eyes shut tight as his hips unconsciously bucked up into the hot vixenhood engulfing his small member.

"Oh, yes," Mrs. Vanderfur whispered as she felt the little cub's hips starting to move on their own.  "Yes... that's a good boy."  She ground her hips more insistently into his crotch, moving a paw to gently caress the cub's head.  His length may have been small, but the lustful vixen, driven by her body's needs and the sinful nature of yiffing a cub, was finding herself quickly approaching the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced.

Frankie, for his part, was completely lost in the act.  His mind had already gone blank, all conscious thought wiped clean as he focused in on the pleasure flooding his young frame.  It was maddening how good it felt to have this vixen tending to his cubhood, and a tad frustrating that he hadn't before known of the intense pleasures his body was capable of producing.

The cub began to whimper.  "M-M-Mrs. Vanderfur... oh... ah... aaaaah!"

Frankie cried out, his whole body convulsing as the boy's first orgasm rocked his frame.  His immature cock twitched madly in the vixen's sex, trying desperately to eject the semen his body was too young to produce.  He thrashed madly, his entire world falling away into the abyss, just to savor this one moment of carnal bliss.

Mrs. Vanderfur's cries mixed with that of the cub as his body's convulsions sent her over the edge.  Her walls spasmed around the cub's rod, trying to milk him of the seed that wouldn't come.  Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she was flooded with pleasure the likes of which she hadn't experienced before, an orgasm much more intense than any previous, driven on by the very fact that it was produced by one so young.

The two furs found themselves suspended in time as they rode out their peaks.  Days, weeks, months could have passed, but time was inconsequential to the vixen and cub.  All too soon, however, their orgasms were over and done.

The vixen rolled on to her side, panting from the exertion.  "Did you enjoy our game, Frankie?" she whispered.

The little cub merely nodded, snuggling up close to the vixen as he tried to catch his own breath.

Mrs. Vanderfur opened her eyes as she felt the cub's crotch pressing in to her tummy.  She looked down and saw how wet he had become from her juices.

"Well, now, we can't redress you looking like that," she muttered.

The vixen rolled the cub onto his back and brought her muzzle to his crotch.  She inhaled the boy's scent mixed with her own, and began to lap her juices from his fur, ignoring the cub's squirms and light cries of protest.

Once satisfied, she crawled from the bed and pulled her clothing back on, taking her time to make sure she looked presentable.  She turned to face the cub as she finished, satisfied that he was still exactly as she left him.

"Now, then, Frankie," she said as he returned to the bed.  "You will not tell anyone what has transpired here.  Do you understand?"

The little cub opened his eyes for the first time since she began to yiff him and nodded slowly.

"Good," she said, and proceded to dress him.  Frankie sighed and resigned to the treatment, moving as needed to allow the vixen to return his clothes to his form.

"Now," Mrs. Vanderfur whispered as she finished.  "Get out."

The little cub needed no further encouragement.  He leapt to his feet and flew from the room as fast as his little footpaws could carry him, back through the halls, back down the stairs -- and right into the back of his worried father.

His parents wordlessly took his paw and led him out of the mansion to the car.  He knew that there would be a scolding when he got home.  He knew that he had seen and done things that would forever change his life.  And he knew for certain that he was never going to tell a soul what transpired in the Vanderfur mansion.