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Daddy's Little Dropout

By Dirt

Father

EdgeTech was rumored to be hosting at least 300,000 people internationally this year. Carl needed to work right at the sides of his crew to cram any last minute improvements before Monday's debut. The maned wolf stalked around the sterile office, his claws rapping at the concrete with every step. The open design made it easy for him to move from one team to the next. Not wanting to completely take from everyone's Saturday, he ordered the entire office to dress casually. He crouched over their shoulders, inspecting their lines as they were being written.

Daisy, a ferret maybe half his age, trembled as his long sleek muzzle peered just above her head. White chest tuff spilt from his pink tank top, draping between her ears. "Everything alright, sir?" she asked shakily.

"Daisy, I can tell you that you're perfect only so many times," he laughed, touching a paw to the strap on her shoulder. "Relax, and stop calling me sir. I'm not that old yet."

Carl made little circles in her coarse brown fur. She let out a squeaky nervous laugh, but otherwise leaned into the touch. Cologne masked a lot of his pungent must, keeping it toned down enough to work closely with his team. Still, he lingered around a second longer just to leave a trace of himself with the mustelid. He could smell her as well, a rich juicy scent that let him know she was enjoying his company. If he stayed around any longer, he might be tempted to show her the privacy of a storage closet up on floor nineteen.

Neon colored desks and warm natural sunlight failed to highlight just how intense the room felt. All fifteen of the crew were in, ranging in different sizes from Daisy, standing a good two feet shorter than his six, to Jafari, a giraffe who's ossicones peaked a foot taller than his black tipped ears. No matter their differences, Carl commanded and pressured them equally. At this, they all did their best to make him proud.

"No, no, no. Hugo, c'mon," Carl chittered as he studied the screen directly next to Daisy's.

A civet underneath him lifted his glasses to rub the rings around his eyes. The wiry short rail-hin man turned his chair so that he could face his boss. Through sniffles, he whimpered, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm a really fucking this up." Carl saw tears building at the corners of his eyes and stopped him with a finger on his lips.

"Sorry's not going to cut it," Carl started, his voice stern. "Remember what I said when I picked you through hundreds of other applicants?"

Hugo placed his glasses back on and gave a single nod. Turning back to his screen, he squinted at the lines to catch up with the rest of his team. Carl placed one paw on each shoulder and massaged his tense muscles. Though the civet let out small murmurs, there was no need to hide it. All of his crew members got regular physical attention from the maned wolf. He said it helped create a strong working environment, but he just liked to feel them sometimes.

Leaning in, Carl whispered into Hugo's round little ear, "You're one of the good ones, kid."

Again, he could pick up the changing scent of his subordinate. Hugo's was different from Daisy's, but he liked it all the same. It was bitter, like ground coffee beans or tea leaves. Carl couldn't help but ponder if the two tasted just as they smelled. Now, he really had to leave else he'd try to take all of his team members up to floor nineteen.

"You can let go now," Carl chuckled, pulling back. Hugo was so caught up that he didn't realize that his tail had wrapped around his boss's leg like a boa constrictor. Slowly unravelling, he apologized only for his headfur to be ruffled by Carl's massive paw. He could feel the tension he was creating in the room and needed to separate himself from them.

Seating himself at his own desk, he typed away at his work. Seethersoft has been proven to reduce stress in patients with PTSD up to 50%. Seethersoft has been shown to relieve stress from patients suffering PTSD by up to 50%. Patients suffering PTSD reported feeling up to 50% less stressed after testing Seethersoft's virtualware. Carl rolled his eyes and turned his head up to scan his team. Optimizing his speech felt boring when he could just let his mind wander on his lust.

Now out of his marriage, he'd been thinking more and more about sex. Not that his ex-wife had put out in years. Asking for a handjob seemed like he was wanted her to lift mountains or bring him a chunk of the fucking moon. And that was just a handjob! When he'd confessed about the things that he really wanted, she laughed him right out of the room. He didn't even bother to mention swinging or inviting a third.

Searching through all of his team in front of him, they all seemed like perfect prospects. He wanted to take Jafari upstairs and see if giraffes lived up to the rumours. Carl's muzzle was long, and surely he'd want to start with head, but eventually he'd need to feel his flare dragging his insides along. Hot giraffe cum would shoot hard into his prostate, sending him to his own climax, and Jafari would pull out hard with a pop to spray sticky ropes all over the maned wolf's back and tail.

Chewing his lip, his eyes hovered over each and every one of them, fantasizing the various things he'd been missing out on. Samantha had the fattest tits he'd ever seen on a cow, and he wanted to wrap his lips around her nipples. He was eager to sink his black mitts into Andres' folds of fat while plunging deep into the boar's backside. Both Daisy and Hugo could make out with his cock at the same time, his paws on the back of their heads guiding one to suck his dick and the other to lick his balls.

Unable to get up off his chair, he spent the rest of the day just working hard on his speech. Surprisingly, the sexual arousal helped him to add intimacy to his speech. Patients experiencing PTSD felt 50% more relieved after trusting the Seethersoft program. Our virtualware has been proven to treat anxiety, depression, bi-polar, and even dissociation in some clients. No single user has reported any negative side effects nor has any user reported Seethersoft having no effect on their psyche. Our technology is creating a better tomorrow by helping people today.

The maned wolf approached each of his team individually, sending them home one by one as they wrapped up their tweaks. All were spared something intimate and thoughtful, a personalized thank you for coming in over the weekend. They warmly accepted it, some returning his gesture with a hug or stroke of the whiskers. Even Hugo, the last to be sent home, received praise and admiration for his accomplishments.

"You really came through today, Hugo," Carl started, reaching a paw forward, "I'm proud of you."

Hugo stared at it for a second before clasping Carl's paw with both of his own and shaking vigorously. "Thank you, sir. That...that means the world to me."

A sadistic streak flashed in Carl's eyes, and his lips pulled back in a wicked smile. In a single move, he snatched both of Hugo's wrists tightly and pulled him in. "You know what would mean the world to me?" Carl asked with a lusty growl rolled into his words.

"W-what?" Hugo asked, the nervous civet trying to wriggle his arms free. Carl didn't let loose. Instead, he reached into his back pocket with his free paw. He could feel the small man's heart thumping in his veins. His blood was rushing as he pulled out a small leather collar.

"I want you to be mine," Carl said between gritted fangs. "I want you to submit to me."

Hugo was awestruck, but bared his neck submissively. He wanted it too, eyes wide, but nostrils flaring in anticipation. "Take me to be yours sir, sir, Sir?"

Carl snapped out of it, shaking his head before looking down at the civet before him. There was no collar he'd drawn from his back pocket. Just his smiling subordinate, head cocked puzzled.

"Right, right. Um, yes," Carl said, shaking his head. "Really great job today."

"Are," Hugo paused, letting go slowly and pulling back. "Are you fine?"

Carl nodded up and down, mouth dry as he looked for words to say. "Um, you enjoy the rest of your weekend," he coughed and gave a weak salute. Hugo nodded and turned towards the exit.

As he watched the civet's long felinelike tail spindle around, Carl questioned asking him to the nineteenth floor. Sharp teeth prodded the edges of his tongue as he ran it over his canines watching him sway to the door. Black stripes painted the civet's tan coat around his muzzle, and rings circled around the base of his tail, but Carl wanted to see the spots he knew were hidden underneath his shirt and shorts. Hugo was short, short enough to easily lift him, hold him against the wall with his fangs in his nape, and fuck his ass right there against the glass walls of his office.

There was even a slight turn to his head as if begging him to tell him to stop. All of the signs were there. Carl didn't even have to imply sex if he could just ask to take him across the street to a rooftop bar. They'd spend the night together over a couple gin and tonics or a bottle of wine. It would be such a perfect date, and Hugo seemed so lovely. With a snort, Carl shook his head and remained quiet.

Hugo was maybe the same age as his son. There'd be no way that the young coder would want to sleep with him. Same with any of his team members. Nobody would be interested in bedding the thirty-eight year old when they were surrounded by hot young singles themselves. As much as Carl enjoyed the inside of the nineteenth floor storage closet, no one other than him and the rag he finished on had ever seen it.

Carl waited a second in his office, wanting to take the elevator alone to the garage. All the while, his paw fiddled his balls and junk with the lining of his pocket. He didn't stop playing with himself inside his car. Keeping himself on edge was part of the fun; doing it out where he could get caught was the other part. By the time he reached the exit booth, his hot breath fogged the windows.

Thomas, the hulking fox manning the toll post, smiled down on him. "Late night, Mr. Flacks?"

Carl grinned and nodded, his cock fully erect. It ran down his leg, a perfect outline barely hidden underneath the steering wheel. He rested his arm out the open window cooly and said, "You know how it can be."

Leaning out of his booth, Thomas peered into Carl's lap with a dangerous smile. "I see you're excited to get home. Or maybe just excited to see me?"

The maned wolf licked his lips, poking his head out of the window to get closer to the fox. "I'm always excited to see you."

From behind the booth door, Thomas pulled out a leash with nose hooks attached to the end. He hung out and inserted the metal ends into Carl's nostrils. With one paw, the fox grabbed his chin and with the other, he yanked up the leash. His maw was stretched wide open; a thumb trailed over his bottom teeth. He traced a claw down the center of his outstretched tongue before pinching it.

"Yes, that pretty muzzle of yours will do well, well, whelp," Thomas clapped his paws together and whistled.

Carl blinked, unsure of the world. There were no metal hooks in his nose and the fox hadn't leaned out of his booth. The maned wolf's maw was agape, but there were no curious fingers inside inspecting him. Thomas shifted uncomfortably before saying, "Certainly must've been a long one."

Carl agreed and pulled out onto the road. Calataza's packed roads and free flowing bike lanes should've kept his paws on the wheel, but his mind was elsewhere. Several times he was saved by the automatic brakes and road assistance. A red light stopped him just short of the freeway and a calico passed between the cars with a plastic bucket. Carl waved dismissively until a hard clank against the glass brought him to attention. Instead of a bucket, there was a revolver's barrel pointing directly at him.

"What the--"

"Get the fuck out," the calico shouted.

Carl made to lock the door, but the feline was faster, opening it and pressing the gun to his temple. His heart raced but he was unable to move as shouts were aimed at him. A knock against his head got him going and he unbuckled his seat belt before he was hoisted out of the vehicle.

Though he looked around frantically for help, no one moved a muscle for him. He was dragged into a nearby alley where a donkey and raccoon were waiting. Carl held his paws up, not wanting to put up a fight. They didn't care and punched his gut anyways. With the wind knocked out of him, the men had no problems tearing off his clothes.

Carl was scared, naked, and at the mercy of three thuggish men. Their gaze told him everything they wanted, and the maned wolf cried out for help. They took turns pushing him between each one roughly before the raccoon and calico hoisted him onto a dumpster.

Naked on his back, he kicked at the two fruitlessly. The donkey unzipped his pants, revealing his long black equine cock. It gleamed with sweat and pre, a terrifying obsidian rod. Carl kicked again, but he just grabbed his ankles and held him still. In spite of it all, he was rock hard in front of all these strange men.

"Alright boys. I'll loosen him up. You two can enjoy the seconds."

HONK

Carl jolted upright in the seat of his car. Before he could even fully process what was going on, a luxury sedan sped around him, narrowly missing the calico at his window. He shook his head, his surroundings coming into focus slowly. He grabbed his money clip from the center console. Quickly, he spared the feline a twenty through the crack of his window and rejected any gratitude before peeling off.

He needed to get laid. Bad.

Location software prompted the center console's screen as soon as he pulled onto the highway. Glowing red and green buttons flashed about, one reading manual and the other reading assistant. Relieved, he tapped the green button and kept his eyes on the road until a chime rang from the center console. He released the wheel and gas pedal at the same time; the seat pulled backward as the car took over. It seamlessly blended into traffic. If there was anything that he was glad to have kept in the divorce, it was his car.

He would have liked to keep the flat just a few miles from his work, but it was cramped and he hated the concrete forest itself. Skyscrapers, bustling urban streetlife, vendors, bars and nightclubs, and all the conveniences that the city life could provide were great to casually experience. Living in it 24/7 was never his idea to begin with, and he practically gave her the flat just as an excuse to escape. Perhaps he would have actually liked it if he hadn't wasted his twenties and thirties in a loveless marriage.

"Rekha?" Carl asked softly. A line appeared on the center console's touchscreen, wiggling to show that the car was listening. "Bring up all notes from today."

A dot circled the screen several times while he pulled his tablet from a carrier bag. The console made the sound of a water drop and as he turned on the tablet, everything at the office was in front of him. "I have found notes titled Presentation in your Cabinet folder. Would you like me to read this to you?"

"Yes, please," he requested, watching along the text as she spoke the draft as clearly as if she was a real person. Listening helped him envision how he would talk and walk on stage in front of tens of thousands of spectators.

An hour passed, a pinging from the car interrupted him. Carl rubbed his eyes, putting his tablet back inside of his bag and pulling his seat forward. When he clicked back into place, he gently grabbed hold of the wheel and pulled towards the tree shrouded offramp. The autopilot fought him for a quarter second before releasing control to him again.

Only a gas station, a fast food restaurant, and a grocery store could be seen coming off the highway. Feeling a little burnt out from the day, he pulled through the fast food restaurant and ordered two of Peppered Patty's number ones before finishing the trip to his house. This one road town, Casari, was nature's property. Green leaves roofed the roads as mist from the coast leaked through the tree's branches.

Even with the car's onboard safety awareness system, he still drove slowly through the wooded area. Cars turning out of their driveways and feral animals leaping from the forest kept him fixed to the wheel. After a ten minute ride, he started his trek up the windy driveway. Trees broke another minute in to reveal his single story mansion sitting lonely in a grass field.

"Living the simple life," he joked. Even if this wasn't a ten million dollar flat in the city, it was still substantial. Grabbing his bag and food, he kicked open the door and rose from his seat. He got halfway to his door when he felt a need to rub his sore ass. There, hunched forward, he noticed the grass. Slowly dropping down until the base of his tail was just a foot over the ground, he inspected the blades along the concrete slabs. A grumble escaped his lips as he noticed that it was all the exact same length it'd been when he left.

One job.

Well, not one job, but he didn't ask for much. Clean the house, organize the mail, and take care of the yard when he was away. He'd been gone for almost a week, cooped up in a hotel room so he could be at work every morning early and stay until late into night. Somehow, he convinced himself that Everett would have it all done before he got back. Granted, Carl didn't say that he was going to be back on Saturday, even implying he might not be back until late on Sunday, but he'd thought his son would have at least started his chores by now.

A long creak followed as he pushed open the front door of his house. Plastic thudded onto the ground, a hiss escaping out of a soda bottle. Carl cursed, stepping inside quickly to drop off his bags. All along the entryway table were empty pizza boxes and food containers. The maned wolf struggled, trying to find a single spot that he could drop off everything he was carrying. Frustrated, he just threw his food and tote bag onto the pile and reached around for the bottle jetting soda. He grabbed it, twisting the cap just as something went slip slip slipping out of his carrier bag.

Crack!

"Rekha!" he gasped.

The tablet remained lifeless on the tiled floor and he called again to her. Instead, he heard a listening device from his kitchen call out, "I'm sorry. I cannot hear you clearly from this distance."

Tablets like that one could cost a couple grand for the normal user, except there was no tablet like the one on the ground not responding to his voice anymore. Graciously, he accepted it as a gift from the CEO of Zephyr industries itself when he'd asked to borrow it for himself. Now, it was an embarrassing story about the famous Carl Flacks fumbling between fast food and a state of the art prototype worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.

"Everett!" Carl shouted, ready to tear into the boy.

The only response he got was, "I'm sorry. I cannot hear you clearly from this distance."

"Rekha, shut up!" He yelled, still waiting for his son to walk out of his room.

"I'm sorry. I cannot hear you clearly from this distance."

Fuming, he grabbed his tablet off the floor and walked out of the foyer. His large pointed ears dropped back against his head and he scouted everything that his son had done to his house. Empty bottles of beer and liquor littered the granite countertop of the kitchen island. Cups and plates balanced haphazardly over more stacked pizza boxes. Trailing from a red puddle, Carl followed a stain that started from one end of the kitchen, wrapping through the cracks of tiles until ending up on the other side just underneath a crushed box of wine.

Just beneath the thick of beer, piss, wine, sick, and liquor was the unfamiliar scent of a dozen other people. Rabbit lept into raccoon and horse trotted through hyena as he tried to pick up anyone that he might have recognized. Sharp and long, his snout picked subtle details between the guests. They all seemed young, boys and girls mixed, horny and rowdy. All of them were strangers, potentially dangerous if any of his sensitive data was leaked.

Finally, in the midst of it all, he caught his son's lingering fragrance. Pungent, earthy, and a little floral, all maned wolves stood out stronger than all but the funkiest species. Almost like a second vision, a trail only he could see looped around the entire house, covering almost all spaces in a light hue. As he turned towards the hallway though, that hue grew deeper and more pronounced. Carl followed it, taking a few steps into the hallway that led to the guest rooms.

Spots of brown and grey dotted the eggshell carpet. Along the walls were glasses and bottles varying from half-full, completely empty, and spilt over the puddles they sat. Now further into the house, he could make out the sounds of clicking from one of the guest bedrooms. Carl's heart was racing, his paws shaking as he continued to step into the hall. Just when he thought that he'd never been more upset in his life, he found that he was just at the tip of the iceberg.

Frozen for a second, he noted that the door to the basement was ever so slightly ajar. It shouldn't have been possible. He dove into his shorts, jingling his keys in his pocket before pulling them out just to double-check that he still had them. A black key hung on a ring with several smaller keys used for the various contraptions he kept. Everett's scent could be traced inside the door along with a few other scents. His sanctuary, the one place he told him that he wasn't allowed, had been violated.

"Fucking @#$%&," Carl heard from inside one of the guest rooms.

The maned wolf blinked a couple times, unsure if he actually heard the slur correctly or if it was something else. Everett clarified by repeating it several times in a row with his distinct high pitched cry. A lump sat in Carl's throat, thinking he must've raised him better than this. This monster in the other room seemed like it had been raised by animals.

Opening the door, Carl could see his son sitting in his gaming chair only wearing white briefs and headphones. Jetpack Jaden IV played on the screen soundlessly, the chair rocking back and forth as Everett leaned in and twisted his body around. The younger maned wolf muttered constantly as he played, and it was obvious he was terrible.

"Kill those @#$%&," he repeated before dying almost immediately afterwards. "Shit! I died. Shut the fuck up. I'm just hungover from last night."

Staying quiet, Carl stepped inside on the tips of his toes. Like stilts, he padded along silently to get a clear view of the room that he let his son stay in. Everett had been living with him for a couple months now after dropping out of college. He'd made himself right back at home. Clothes were laid about on every space of the floor. Scorch marks lay atop the wooden desk just below the still smoldering bowl of a bong. Empty bottles everywhere were just par for the course of Everett Samuel Flacks.

"Yeah, party was a'ight. Would've gotten laid too if my dad's fucking sex palace didn't fucking scare everyone off," his son admitted while waiting for the new match to load.

What wasn't par for the course was laying out on the bed casually. Sitting right on the sheets, still slicked with lube, lay Carl's very own dildo. Canid in nature, it was sculpted after a male porn star that he had grown up with: a big German Shepherd, Ivan Nazar. He would make up the majority of his fantasies, so when he saw the replica at a shop, he knew he needed to have it.

"Nah, like super fucking weird. Whips. Chains. Dude's a real freak. I kinda always figured he was fucked up in the head, "Everett continued, the game ready to start again. "Don't know how I ended up so normal."

Of course, sitting right next to Ivan was Sylvia Beker's worn and wet pussy. The silicon mold was dripping of his son's spunk and whatever cheap lube he bought. Carl didn't know Everett was bi, but wished he didn't find out like this. Not even he himself had actually used either Sylvia nor Ivan, having mostly purchased them for memorabilia. Now, they felt tainted and gross.

"Can't wait to tell my mom about this. She's gonna fucking lose her fucking mind. I'm surprised she didn't leave him sooner. He probably would have--"