The Hangunder

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#154 of Patreon Reward Vignettes

the NINETEENTH vignette for Kobalt, a direct sequel to last month's showing how Cody gets out of that mess!

Brione gets ready for work and finds a stow-away. He has to figure out how to keep a micro safe until he can return the stoat to Kobalt.

Contains: Implied Oral Vore, Clean Full Tour Release, Micro Aptophilia, Phone Conversations, Dooks Mussed Up After Washing, Clearly The Best Option and Flustered Acceptance of Circumstances.

This was written as a reward for the $30 tier on my Patreon! People who pledge $5 or more can vote on polls. $15 or more you can submit up to two OCs to be available for use in future stories!

Right now, all unpublished writings are available to read for all Patrons!

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Cody wriggled and grasped forward with his paws. The tiny stoat dragged himself through yards and yards of digestive tract and finally made it to the rectum. Part of him was thankful that Doberman intestines weren't too dissimilar from buckaroo guts; meant that he didn't get lost on his way out. Admitting that fully, however, would be acknowledging how familiar he had gotten with buckaroo guts.

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Brione yawned, the Doberman scratching his stomach and standing off the bed. His snug purple briefs hugged his hips tightly as he stretched, hand paws pressing to the ceiling as his spine popped a few times. With a wiggle of his docked tail, the dog walked over to his closet to get a work uniform compliant shirt.

A few steps in, he perked, wriggling his hips at a strange feeling under his tail. Something stretched the fabric of his briefs. Said something was also now writhing against the cleft of his cheeks.

The dog dug a paw into the back of his undies and found something decidedly fluffy and alive, if moistened. Brione brought his paw in front of his face, tiny interloper in hand.

The white-furred stoat gasped for air, hugging onto the canine's thumb.

"Who are you?" Brione narrowed his eyes. "And why exactly were you inside me?"

"Cody..." The mustelid breathed deeply, still out of breath. "You ate me last night at Kobalt's house."

The dog perked. All the last night Kobalt had been wondering where his housemate Cody had gone! And all that time, the stoat had been somewhere inside him. Brione clenched his jaw a bit in embarrassment. "Okay, I'll let you get cleaned up while I call Kobalt." He carried the micro into his bathroom.

With his free paw, Brione adjusted the stopper in the sink to allow water to drain but not be wide enough for a micro's foot to get caught in it, before setting the stoat in the basin. He carefully opened the tap enough to be a laminar drizzle and squirted a pump of fur soap to splat on the porcelain.

Cody dipped a paw into the detergent and started to work it into his fur with a sigh.

The Doberman, meanwhile, got his cell phone and dialed up his friend.

After three rings, Kobalt answered the phone. There was the sound of ruffled fabric, followed by a low pitched, mumbled "Kobalt here... Hello...? It better be important waking me up on my day off..."

Brione held in his amusement at the buckaroo's state. "Kobalt, I found Cody. It seems he got in something I ate yesterday and spent the night wriggling his way out."

Another rustling of fabric followed. "H-how is he?" Kobalt suddenly sounded far more awake. "Is he okay?"

Leaning to peek into the bathroom, the dog saw that the stoat was rinsing off under the faucet. "He's getting cleaned up. Yeah, he's fine, just a bit tired from fighting my guts all night."

"Well, once he's done with that, bring him back over here, okay?" The buckaroo insisted, now sounding entirely awake.

Brione glanced at the time on his phone. He had already woken up with a narrow margin to get dressed and head out the door to his shift at the bakery. "Sorry, I can't drive all the way over there and still get to work on time, you're in opposite directions!"

Kobalt audibly slapped the side of his own face with a hand. "Ughhh. It's not safe to leave him at your house, you don't have the accommodations for micros at your place..."

The Doberman froze. He hadn't even thought of that. Now his mind was whirling with worst-case scenarios. "And if I took him to work and he fell in someone's food, we'd never find him again!"

The connection was silent for long enough that Brione checked to see if the call was still going.

"Okay, I have a solution." The hybrid spoke plainly. "You stow Cody in your briefs. It's the safest option for him until you have the time to come over here."

Squinting a bit at the phone, the dog returned the flat device to under his floppy ear. "If you say so... I'll be there after work." He walked back into the bathroom.

"See you then." Kobalt hung up.

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Cody had tugged himself out of the sink basin and wrapped himself in a hand towel. He stepped out of the terry cloth with his fur all mussed up in every direction. "What did Koby say?" He smiled up at his impromptu host.

Brione carefully scooped the stoat into one hand as he set the phone down. "To do this!" His newly freed paw dug one thumb into the waistband of his briefs and tugged open. Before Cody could react at all, he was released over the gap.

The micro flailed in freefall, before striking the inside of the briefs' front pouch, stretching it out and getting bounced back.

Straight into the dog's junk.

The briefs snapped closed with a release of the elastic waistband, pinning the stoat there.

Cody huffed, cheeks flared brightly. He'd just cleaned up and now he was subjected to canid musk directly. At least he remembered the Doberman showering before bed the night before. The sound of water striking flesh from the inside was something he was also fairly familiar with, living with Kobalt.

As he pondered his predicament, the mustelid heard fabric moving as he was jostled from one side, then the other. The zipping sound accompanying everything compressing down on him told him that was the dog putting on trousers. And then they were off and walking. Or rather, Brione was.

The stoat blushed deeply and fidgeted in place. At least this new soft and warm containment was dry.