Daddy Dementia

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7 of All Punk Rockers Go To Hell Dallas runs into someone who he never thought he'd find at the local Wal-Mart.

I now had two business cards in my jacket pocket nestled next to my cigarettes; as well as a fresh new hundred dollar bill. I was richer than I ever had been in my entire life and had two hot guys who wanted me to eventually get in contact with them. Sure Ryan said he had a boyfriend and probably played by the law; letting a fourteen year old porcupine suck him off was probably out of the question. But he was still pleasing to look at, as far as I remembered. I figured I could make a call and maybe talk to him or his boyfriend about all the sex I've had and see if it gives them a boner.

With the park behind me and Wal-Mart looming before me the growling in my stomach was becoming a roar. My foot-paws already felt the heat radiating up from the black tar parking lot as I dodged between the cars of early morning shoppers. Some fur's had nothing better to do than give their money to an evil mega-corporation.

With my paws stuffed in my jacket pockets I was greeted by the deceiving comfort of air conditioning. The air temperature was so drastic a change it almost gave me a headache but my eyes found the magical golden arches of fast food heaven and my stomach took over my brain. I ordered the largest number five I could and filled my drink cup with Coke. I ate like a beast after a long winter of starved hibernation; devouring my burger, demolishing my fries, and pounding my pop before going back for a re-fill.

I must have sat there for a good twenty minutes just letting my food digest. With all the walking I had been doing since yesterday I deserved a little spoilage. I felt ready to pop and I purposely undid the button of my pants. I little puppy sat with his mother and older sister at a table beside me and for some reason the little brat had been staring at me the entire time I had eaten. Obviously his mother never bopped him upside the head for rudely staring like my mother would have. This kid had no fucking manners at all. Neither did I, but I didn't stare at people like a freak.

So I stared back, glared at him, his eyes dipped a bit for a moment but he continued to look at me as if he did only because he could. His mom and sister were busy chatting about the shit they had just bought; something about new sunglasses and a dress. I didn't care. The boy was probably eight or nine, quite for his age, but still a pesky little fuck. He saw me undo my pants button, his eyes dripping to my fly only long enough to notice the bulge my tight pants gave me. I grinned and squeezed my crotch, stroking my semi-hard sheath within. The boy's mouth fell open a bit and I chuckled to myself. I mouthed the words 'suck my dick' before standing up and mimicking jerking off and cuming in his direction. That turned him around rather quickly. His mother and sister never even noticed.

I refilled my drink a third time and took off to walk around the store. I went around the long way; passed the sports gear, the electronics, and shoes until I got to the men's clothes area. Though I did stop to look at all the laptop computers they had on display. I knew there was lots of free porn on the internet but when I saw the price tags I knew nothing in this world was as free as it was made to sound.

Most of the shirts I owned I had bought at shows, most of the underwear and pants I had my mother had bought me years ago and I still wore them. I didn't know the first thing about buying my own shit. I figured I was a size large, but I liked tight fitting clothes so I found the section for male undergarments. I made to turn into the isle and stopped dead instead. Crashed was more like it. I hit something firm. I guess my mind couldn't process what it was fast enough, too lagged by all the fast food. I stumbled back and immediately remembered running into Ryan the same way yesterday afternoon. Only this time I wasn't looking up at a six foot four hyena. I was looking almost straight into the eyes of a rather bulky porcupine wearing small black rimmed glasses: My father.

We stared at each other for a moment, each of us obviously too stunned to really process what each of us saw. I saw what I saw; a well-dressed porcupine, no more than five inches taller than me. We looked almost nothing alike. Aside from our equally rounded middle, he had more bulk in his shoulders while I had most of it in my belly. His navy black office slacks were similar to Benjin's and the light blue button up suggested he was ready for work but the bag of black boxer briefs in his paws said he was shopping. My mind flashed back to my uncle tearing my father's underwear from behind and forcing his thick slimy cock between his cheeks. I felt nauseous.

Devon Green, hardly my father anymore, stood there and fixed his glasses on the bridge of his nose and shifted uncomfortably. I didn't know what to say to him and he clearly had the same dilemma. This was the first time we had been 'alone' like this in months. My mother was almost always home when he was, and if she wasn't he was locked up in his home office working over the phone with some client from work. He was the systems manager at some big building downtown. He got paid the big bucks to run the network, made sure their systems always worked, and that the computers ran the way they were supposed to. It was glorified tech support.

I remember the games we would play on his laptop when I was little. They were the cheap preloaded games that came with the computer but to a seven year old they were the greatest. I could tell he wanted to say something, I wished I could say something, but every time I wanted to ask about what had happened yesterday evening or even seven years ago when he first found out his brother was fucking his son, the words would just get stuck in my throat.

"Hello son." He spoke softly almost as if he were talking to a co-worker. "Fancy meeting you here."

I could hear the strain in his voice. How do you talk to your own son after being shamefully fucked in front of him? My mind ran through a bunch of stupid things that sounded parental and downright wrong at the same time. 'I'm sorry you had to see that last night my boy, you see, sometimes when a male loves his older brother a whole lot he lets him fuck him in the ass, even in front of his children.' Or 'Don't worry son, daddy and uncle weren't fighting, we were only fucking.' If it were anyone else I would have had a perfectly good reason for the wood in my pants. But now I felt like vomiting up all the crap I had just eaten.

"What are you doing here?" Was all I could ask, all I could say, when my mind screamed a million questions all at once. He looked rather startled by the question and had to shift his feet and fix his glasses again before replying to the simple question.

"I needed some underwear." He said in a rather defeated sounding voice. "All of mine old ones have...holes in them now."

I wanted, for the first time in years to hug him. I felt sorry for him, but I had to remind myself that he had knowingly let his own brother fuck me for three years of my life without ever lifting a paw to stop him. I knew why now. I knew that Markel treated my father in much the same way he had treated me. But that was still no excuse. I kept the fury inside and tried to show utter indifference by stuffing my free paw into my jacket while nonchalantly sipping my Coke. I could tell it worked.

"I'm heading downtown if you needed a ride anywhere." He spoke looking rather forlorn. I could see dark circles under his eyes. Who knew how long my uncle had kept my father up with his cock? I was too young at the time but I remember my uncle always sniffing and rubbing his nose before and after I'd made him cum. Who was to say that Markel had used coke to keep not only my father up, but himself up as well? The guy was a sex addict. He knew no satisfaction.

"Sure," I said offhandedly looking around the store. "I needed to buy a new shirt. All of mine are at home and dirty. Mom doesn't do my laundry anymore. But honestly everything sucks here. If you wanted to take me to the mall instead, that'd be cool."

I could tell he was eating up this father son interaction like a junkie to his dope. He smiled half-heartedly and nodded as eagerly as he could.

"Let me just pay for these and we can go, do you need any underwear too?"


I couldn't remember the last time I had been inside my father's black BMW. It was an older model but I remember he had bought it new when I was seven and drove me around the block five times the night he brought it home. Now, I stared out the passenger window as Wal-Mart disappeared behind us thinking of too many things at once. My father cleared his throat and I knew he wanted to talk. He hadn't spoken while he checked out; a pack of large and a pack of medium black boxer briefs. I held my pack now and thought about what he would do if I decided I needed to put on a pair right here, right now. I did need to.

His work phone rang and he answered it through the headset in his ear. It was almost weird to hear his voice. I know he had spoken to me the other night but he had been drunk off his ass. It almost saddened me that it had been at least a few months since I had last heard him like this; clear headed; my father. I tried to only remember that fury inside from all those years.

I reached inside my patched and graffitied leather jacket, going straight for my Marlboros. I was getting low on them too. Probably couldn't ask my dad to buy those for me but hell if he was going to prevent me from smoking. I rolled down my window, the smallest courtesy I could give him, and brought my cigarette to life with my lighter. I saw him glance over as smoke filled the cabin before being sucked out through the window like a ghost being busted.

Grinning somewhat stupidly, I smoked while he talked. He was going on about a server that was down. I couldn't understand a word of it. Who the hell knew what bandwidth was? And what the fuck was an ISP address? I imagined a room full of nerds fighting over who was less virginal than the other. I chuckled and my dad noticed. There was this club at school for geeks like them; glasses wearing, mouth breathing, dorks with braces. One in particular was in charge of the school newspaper and had written an article about 'Bullies in the Hallways'. It told kids how to spot a bully and how to avoid them. It described me to a T. I knew he stayed after school on Fridays before the paper draft was printed for Monday. He thought he had been safe. No bully stays after school unless he's forced. I had found him alone in the paper room. Boy was he surprised to see me.

I could recall the whole twenty five minutes it had taken me to cum. With his face pressed into a desk full of papers, shorts around his ankles; I turned that little ferret into a man. He never said a word the whole time except for his pathetic little moans. His last words had told me that he'd tattle on me. That was before I had slipped my cock into his tight virgin ass. Sure he cried and squealed a bit but back in the paper room no one heard us.

"Come on, you're becoming a man!" I had told the thirteen year old ferret as I pulled on his tail with one paw and squeezed his skinny little ass with the other; my thighs slapping against his ass with each thrust. Both his paws were clutching wads of paper in an attempt to withstand the pain and pleasure as I slowly built up to orgasm.

I shot a rather impressive load into that boy's rump that afternoon. I remember standing back after I had blown my wad, pulling up my pants and watching as his still rather tight hole pushed my creamy seed from the pulsing star of muscles. Before leaving I leaned over him one final time; slapping him good on the ass and kissing his tear stained cheek.

"I guess you'll think twice before writing anything about me." I whispered in his ear.

"I... I... I..." He tried to speak, to refuse such a thing. But I knew he had me in mind when he wrote that article. He was friends with another boy who rubbed me the wrong way until I made him 'rub' me the right way only a week before that article had been written.

I exhaled an impressive, billowing cloud of smoke and grinned as I rubbed my crotch in remembrance. I didn't care if my father saw me, it's not like I had never noticed his hard-ons before. He was wrapping things up on the phone with his work and I could see him looking over at me from time to time. I made no attempt to hide my attempts at rubbing my dick through the denim of my jeans.

"Well if you have any more problems feel free to call me back." My father was saying over the phone. "Cynthia is out today and I won't be in for another couple of hours. If it's not up and running by noon we may have to call the manufacturer and have them solve the problem. Yes. Yes. You too. Bye. Sorry about that."

I glanced over at him and I noticed his eyes flash up from my lap and I shrugged; flicking my ash out the window as we pulled up to a red light. The mall was another four blocks away and I liked the idea of walking through the parking lot with a boner. It was little sexual times like that that I really lived for because when other furs noticed it was still hot but not entirely illegal. Kind of like using the urinals in public restrooms and making a point to stand just right so the guy next to you can see your cock plain as day.

My father took a deep breath and held it a moment before exhaling in a question. "Would you mind if I joined you?"

My paw stopped and I looked at my dad with a rather curious look. I wasn't sure if he was talking about my cigarette or me half-heartedly jerking off. When I motioned with my cigarette if he wanted a drag I could tell he looked a little embarrassed.

"No, no, I meant at the mall." He spoke and waved a bit of smoke out of his face before pressing on the gas at the signal of a green light. Though my heart had begun racing at that first question--I shrugged again, and he nodded. "I just figured. Maybe I could buy you that shirt you need. Maybe some lunch."

"I just ate a crap ton." I replied rather annoyed that he was trying to be my dad after five years of being around but never really there. Instead of deliberately rubbing my crotch I decided on simply gripping dick and squeezing in slow successions. "Besides, I thought you had to be at work soon?"

"I could go in a little late." He said a bit defensively, but continued on in a somber tone. "I know we haven't been on good terms and..."

"And now you want to fix it?" I had to force myself not to yell.

"I probably can't fix anything." He admitted sounding utterly defeated. I felt sorry for him but I also hated him for never helping me when I needed help. I wasn't going to refuse his charity because free stuff was free stuff; free for me at least. But if he thought we were going to be best friends all of a sudden he was sorely mistaken. "I just want you to know that I'm willing to support your in anything you want to do."

"In anything?" I asked and laughed outright? "You want to buy me a pack of smokes?"

"I didn't mean like that." He said sounding frustrated now but still beneath that layer of guilt and melancholy. I tossed my smoldering butt out the window and sat back rolling my eyes. "I meant like, well, your mother talked to be about the boy at school. I just want you to know that. I love you and that even though your mother doesn't approve, I think it's great that, you know, that you like boys."

"Oh, Jesus Christ dad." I blurted out after hearing his attempt at giving me the 'it's okay to be gay' talk. I don't know why any parents would want to have that talk with their sons; especially if they were an only child like me. It meant I would never give him his own grandson. It meant this fucked up family wouldn't survive after me. I was perfectly content with that thought, but was my father? "Mom thinks I'm going to hell and you're telling me it's all okay?"

"Your mother found god after we got married." He spoke in defense of his statements. "She's not quite the same lady I married. We were rather different when we were younger. I wasn't always so..."

"Dorky?" I spoke looking out the window apathetically. My father made the turn into the parking lot of the downtown shopping mall and began his search for a parking spot. I thought about bringing up him and his brother. Maybe he was only okay with me being 'gay' because he would take it up the ass from his brother. If he wanted to support me he would have to do something about Markel. If he ever wanted me back home he would burn down that bastard's new house, cut his car's break wires, poison him, anything. If he wanted me home he would have to prove to me that this just wasn't some passive aggressive attempt to make me okay with what happened all those years ago.

We parked finally but before I could push open the passenger door my father's paw on my leg stopped me from pulling the handle to let me out. I glanced down at it and noticed just how close it was to the angling bulge in my pants. The pre I must be leaking would be showing through the fabric any moment now. And what would happen if he moved his paw? What would happen if I made a move, kissed him, grabbed him, let him fuck me? I felt sick.

"Listen." He spoke earnestly and at the very least I gave him my rather impatient attention. "When I was your age, I wasn't much different that you. It's hard to believe but I've changed so much since then. But in the back of my mind I still remember the way I thought, the way I viewed life. I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't want to go back and change things or that I never lost sight of my roots and who I was. I just don't ever want you to do the same."

"I'll never change." I said in protest and rather appalled that he thought I ever would.

"I said the same thing!" He spoke quickly. "I believed I would be who I was forever and no one would ever stop me."

I didn't 'not' believe him but I was having trouble believing that my father, as stiff and as plain as he could be, was ever anything other than that; plain, stiff and boring. He pulled away and for a moment I thought he was about to get out of the car. He shifted his butt in his seat and reached his paw down beside the passenger window; appearing to dig for something in the crack of his ass. When he pulled out his wallet I remembered again the hundred in my jacket and the urge to want to get drunk. That gulp of whiskey the other night was a tease.

"I've kept this in my wallet for over ten years as a reminder of who I was." He said procuring an old faded picture from behind his ID card. The picture in his ID was similar to how he looked now only he wasn't smiling. He stared at the photo fondly and passed it to me. The older photo however looked nothing like him. If I would have found this on my own I would have thought someone had taken a picture of me while I was blacked out but the background didn't look the least bit familiar. "That's back in British Columbia when I was fifteen. A few of my friends were waiting outside this club for a show. We waited for five hours only to be denied entry because we were underage."

"You're wearing Dead Kennedys shirt!" I said rather speechless. The only reason words came out of my mouth was because it was agape in astonishment. A fifteen year old version of my dad stared smugly towards the camera; tight faded D.K. shirt on over his husky youth body, tight black pants, loosely holding a green beer bottle with a logo I was unfamiliar with. "What's Moosehead?"

"It's a Canadian lager." Devon spoke with rather nostalgic undertones. I could tell he was reliving his past, however briefly glorious. I knew he met my mom at nineteen and by then he must have changed because my mother would have had nothing to do with a porcupine dressed as he was in the photo.

"What happened?" I asked as I continued to gaze at the picture. I didn't know many porcupines other than the ones in my crummy family but if I hadn't known any better I would have been more than willing to get with the teenage version of my dad had he been around now. When I looked back at my dad he had lost his brief expression of joy and had returned to his rather dreadful, somber, demeanor.

"The whole reason I lived the way I did then was because Markel was always around." He spoke as if remembering a bad dream. "You can't tell in that picture but I was always unhappy, sad, alone, and I turned that all into anger when I was out with my friends. When I turned eighteen I had the chance to move to the states and enroll in an IT program where I learned the skills I know now. I had to change, and within a few years I had. I met your mother through a small side job working as a telemarketer. The rest was history I guess."

"You lost your anger because of him?" I spoke out loud without meaning to and only noticed because my father sighed. I 'did' feel sorry for him. I knew now that Markel had not only ruined my life but had almost ruined his brother's life as well. He was able to get away, escape and start a life somewhere else where he got a great job and raised a son with his new wife, until one dark day when 'he' returned and what my father once was became me. "I found your anger."

"I guess you did." He said not sounding so hopeless. I expected him to say something else; attempt to come up with something else that could maybe magically fix this whole situation. But I knew that what he had to do would be far from simply telling me things would be all right. In the end, Markel would have to be confronted and it was something that my father would have to do himself. I was still only a kid after all. As much as I hated to admit it, there was nothing I could do but sit back and watch. "So how about that shirt?"

I handed the old photo back to him and smirked; seeing him in a new light. So my father was a punk rocker back in his days, but we'll see just how much he knew about such a lifestyle. I left my underwear on the floor in front of my seat and lead the way to nostalgia.


I left 'The T-shirt Shop' feeling like a hundred bucks. It's amazing how a new shirt can make you feel so good inside. It was only a Misfits shirt; the classic skull image known by many, but along with my patched and gratified jacket, tight black pants, the shirt added that final contrast to my father walking beside me. He had tried to lure me into the Hot Topic a few stores down but I had only laughed and walked on. He meant well but I showed him the wonders of The T-shirt Shop and how it called more to the punk rock scene and less to the trendy ways of the scenesters. I even pointed out a mother taking her young son in Hot Topic along with her older teenage daughter. It made me want to vomit.

"So it's wrong for family's to take their kids into Hot Topic but going into this store with you is alright?" My dad had asked clearly questioning me on my logic.

"You used to be punk." I explained simply with a dumb grin. "And punk never dies. It's still inside you. So this store will welcome you."

And it did. The cheetah working behind the counter smiled and greeted us warmly as if we were family; her many piercings actually standing out even over the spots in her fur. She wore a black Leftover Crack shirt with a pentagram that had been cut and made into a tank top after years of use as a shirt. She said to ask if we had questions and continued sorting through piles of merchandise.

I had found want I wanted and even tried to get my dad to by a Dead Kennedys shirt similar to the one worn in the old photo. He had smiled and even held the shirt in his paws almost as if weighing the option. He finally shook his head and put the shirt back leaving the store as he had entered. He offered to hold the bag with my old shirt for me. Said he would take it home. I felt like it would be a while before I saw home again.

We walked on talking about music and shows and for the first time in a long while I was bonding with my father. Because the topic was music I found it easy. We had never shared this common interest before. I had never given a single thought about my dad's musical tastes before now. I always figured it was something god awful like classical or oldies. But he knew about the punk rock legends from the seventies and eighties and even some obscure Canadian ones I had never heard of before.

"They were called 'The Wash Outs' because they purposely played to sound like some drunks who had found instruments and just decided to play them." He spoke as if remembering it like it only happened last night. "They were from B.C. and only a few cities over. Every time they'd come into town we'd gather up the crew and hang out all day in front of the theater. It was the only place that played all age shows and was a popular venue for a while. We'd skate and drink; secretively of course. It was me, a wolf named Andy, Raven and his on-again off-again girlfriend Sara, they were both bats, and then Rys who claimed he was part panda but we could never see it."

"Damn dad." I spoke. It was obvious that he had better friends when he was my age than I have now. I mean, TK was okay but he was a huge stoner and only probably liked me because I got so many furs to buy drugs off him. He said once I made him laugh a lot but I hardly ever heard him laugh and I didn't think I was all that funny. Who else was there? There were the guys I hung with; Mariah was an older, raggedy ferret in high school who was dating a fox named Jill who went to school here. She would be in the ninth grade next year but Mariah would be a senior then. I figured he just liked her because she was only thirteen, but they got along like a real couple, fought like a real couple too. I didn't pretend to understand.

There was Fink; a chubby blue Sheppard who, although he only smoked cigarettes, was a junkie for all things junk food. I thought I was bad; I once watched the boy eat twelve cupcakes in under thirty minutes. The odd thing about him is he always walked to and from school every day, seven miles there and back; fourteen in all. The kid was chubby, but oddly not fat. He once blew me for a dozen donuts. With the load still in his mouth he had bitten into one of the Boston Creams; for all he cared, my cum was just more filling. I don't think Fink wasn't gay though. He confessed to liking girls. He told me once about all the pornos his father had. How he actually would watch them with his old man. Not together. Most times Fink just hid behind the couch late at night and watched the females getting pounded while his pops pounded his dick with his fist. He didn't think anything odd about seeing his dad jerk off; he was only there to see the girls. I had face palmed before shaking my head in disbelief. Fink was a weird kid.

There was Terrance and Jacob too; brothers actually, and neither was like the other in any way except that they were both Bangle Tigers. Jacob was your regular orange and black striped tiger while Terrance was white and black. Even thought they were born within the hour of each other Terrance was taller while Jacob was larger. Terrance smoked cigarettes and weed and hated drinking while Jacob was a boozer and anything smoke flared his asthma. Terrance actually did okay in school while Jacob was failing all of his classes like me. The list went on and on but to sum it up they were practically night and day. I actually got on more with Jacob than his brother but I knew Terrence had a weakness for pop punk bands and I was able to turn him on to a few good ones. He always had something to say about music to me whenever we were around each other. He also got me high a lot.

I hadn't said anything for a while. My dad was still walking beside me, glancing over at me from time to time as we both were thinking about friends and old friends. I guess I had more than I thought but in reality they were more acquaintances than friends. TK said he cared about me but would any of them take a bullet for me? I don't think I would, but then again I was a cold-hearted bastard at times. I cleared my throat and spoke. "Have you talked to any of them since you left Canada?"

"Hmm? Oh, my old friends?" He replied in his semi-monotone voice. "No, I've seen that a few of them are on Facebook but I haven't had the nerve to contact them. They would probably all think I was a sellout. Andy still had his old rocker vest even at thirty-seven and Rys was wearing a Black Flag shirt in his default picture. They'd be ashamed that I wore a tie to work every day."

"You won't know until you try." I spoke sounding like Kasai. I wish I could have taken the words back but I noticed that they had made my father smile and nod as if he knew I was right. I thought about the 'friends' I had and wondered what they would think of me if I ever stopped being that I was, changed. I still hadn't come out to any of them except for TK and that was an accident. I'm sure Fink wouldn't care but I wasn't sure about Mariah, Jill, and the tiger twins, or anyone else for that matter. I have yet to meet a fur that had a problem with it other than my mother, but I wasn't keen on meeting one.

In the parking lot we were greeted by hot dryer air; the humidity having begun to already burn off in the late summer sun. We had been talking about where I wanted to be dropped off because Devon needed to be at work in thirty minutes. I told him I could get to where I needed to be from here. He casually slipped me a fifty and I was giddy with excitement by the time we reached the car. I had to find someone to buy me smokes and alcohol for tonight and knew I could do that at the hookah lounge down just the street.

"Oh, what about your underwear?" He asked when he noticed them on the floor of the passenger side; knowing I wasn't about to carry them around town with me. "I can take them home with me. I'll make sure...everyone is out of the house tomorrow around noontime if you need to take a shower and stuff. I'll keep Markel distracted."

I cringed thinking about my uncle but was glad my father was willing to do that for me. I wasn't sure how he was going to keep that beast distracted or what he was going to have to 'do' to pull it off. It was a sickening thought, but again I felt myself trying to spring to life in my pants. I glanced around the parking lot; a sea of cars but not a single fur in sight.

"Stand guard." I said after he had unlocked the vehicle with his key-ring remote. I pulled open the passenger door and snatched the pack of boxer briefs from the floor and tore into them. My father stood in the isle with me between his car and the red one beside it, nervously watching me and for possible onlookers. He knew what I was about to do and it made me grin knowing it.

He was probably too shocked to stop me. I wasn't a mind reader and didn't know what he thought about sex between relatives. Obviously he couldn't deny his brother when he wanted to fuck, but what would he do if I decided to advance on him. It was an Idea I had been toying with the entire time we had been in the mall.

I unfolded the new undergarment, still fresh with ironed creases, before undoing my pants button and pulling my legs from the constricting denim. It really did feel good to be naked in public, even if only from the waist down, and the fact that my father was staring wide eyed at me made it even better. "Anyone coming?" I asked pausing a moment to turn to him; underwear in hand, pants on the black asphalt. I wanted to look down at my cock but I already knew it was starting to get hard if only still in its sheath. My dad looked absolutely dumbfounded but that was far from an objection. I smiled and stepped into the boxer briefs and pulled them up to fit nicely on my ass. My pants came next but when I glanced back at him he looked pale. His eyes stared beyond me, and his mouth tried to make words but nothing came out. Before I could even ask what was wrong I got one of those feelings you get when you know someone is behind you, only there was no suggestion of comedy in this situation. I was almost too terrified to look but when I finally did it was the last face I expected to see.

"So you get naked in front of your dad too?" The sleepy voice of Fink Garder spoke behind a mouthful of candy bar. He was wearing a denim vest over his naked torso and a cut off pair of light blue jeans. Fink didn't have to try very hard to look punk rock; he also didn't have to try at all to look homeless. Lucky for us I could only smell chocolate, weed, and the faint smell of musk. I felt all the terror drain from me only to be replaced by the need to laugh and tame my impending hard-on. "Don't let me interrupt. I'll just wait here while you two finish up."

"There's nothing to finish." I grunt grabbing my pants off the ground. My dad was still as white as his grey-blue fur could go but was now obviously and thoroughly confused. I felt far too silly to get mad at his usual accusations but putting on my pants was still a challenge. "I was putting on a pair of underwear because I don't have any and I'm homeless and my dad was only watching out while I put them on. Dad this is Fink, I went to school with him last year; he's a freshman. Fink this is my dad."

"I saw the way you were looking at him." Fink spoke almost like a computer at times. The food in his mouth was usually the only thing that changed his pitch. Some of his friends said he did it on purpose. He started smoking weed at nine; maybe that was the reason for it. But either way, it was easy to tell when he was joking because he was almost never serious. "My dad always lets me finish before he turns the movies off."

"Movies?" Was all my dad could ask. I finished buttoning my jeans and shut the car door before glancing from my father's baffled gaze to Fink's half-hearted smirk. They didn't have to be full-fledged smiles to know that Fink was in a good mood; and clearly stoned.

"He jerks off to straight pornos with his dad." I said rather nonchalantly feeling the weird vibe between the three of us and trying my best to ignore it. If Fink didn't care that my dad knew, neither did I. I just wanted to get high now, but also didn't want to just leave my father standing here like this.

"We race." Fink said looking at my father and raising his brow in emphasis as he tossed the empty candy wrapper to the ground without a hint of remorse for the environment. He wasn't helping.

"What are doing?" I asked trying to change this incredibly hot but embarrassing situation.

"Looking for you." Fink said finally leaving my dad alone and turning his attention to me. "All this talk of you molesting that otter and getting suspended got me thinking. TK said he saw you on Friday but didn't say where. I figured I'd find ya," He lowered his voice but not by much. "Smoke ya, and find out what's happening. Heard your gay now too. I had a hunch. That's cool though."

My stomach smashed into the ground. 'He had a hunch?' I was content with the situation before but now; Fink had to bring this shit up and fuck shit up. Had it not been for me coming so quickly to terms with myself these past twenty-four hours I'd have not taken this as well as I was. Had Fink said these things a week ago I probably would have given him a shiner; make his blue eye black. My father spoke.

"He was suspended for trying to force a boy to kiss him. That's all." He said mater-of-factly I stared at my father curiously; glad he had come out of his shock-coma, but bewildered that he had explained things so bluntly. "I'm glad my son has friends who support him."

Fink was hardly being supportive. He was probably thinking about sex. If I was gay and he was horny then we could probably end up best friends for a few hours. Sure, I thought Fink was cute, and I was all for being used for sex, but how many other furs knew now? TK said he wouldn't tell anyone.

"Why did TK tell you I was gay?" I asked trying not to sound panicked.

"TK knows your gay?" Fink asked flatly.

There I went shooting myself in the foot-paw again. 'Damn it.' I cursed in my head but I'm sure it was clear as day on my face. All I wanted was for my dad to leave already and for me to be somewhere safe to smoke. Instead, Fink continued to stare at me with his smug grin while my father looked back and forth between me and the blue-grey Shepard.

"I told him yesterday." I said trying to sound casual and not so meek. I took in a breath and looked to my father before letting out. He was almost fully recovered from this odd encounter and all I wanted to do was push him into leaving. "Dad, me and Fink can manage the walk to Ignition, I'll come by the house tomorrow evening if you think you can get 'him' and mom out of the house. I'm sure mom won't be hard, she probably doesn't even care that I'm gone."

"Not true." My father spoke pushing his small glasses up the bridge of his nose again. "She was worried when you didn't come home last night. I had to give her something so she could sleep." He looked rather sheepishly then. "I gave her twice the dose, she hardly remembered yesterday. She just assumed you were out with friends last night."

I don't know why but that made me grin; the next thing I knew I had my arms around my father, hugging him for the first time in years. He hadn't expected the gesture, I could tell; his whole body flinched and tightened. I could feel the neglected muscles under his dress shirt become ridged and tight as my arms went under his. I pressed my face into his chest and felt just how good it was to be so close to him. I don't know if it was a long suppressed desire to feel affection for my father or something a bit more devious but it filled me with more warmth than any liquor ever could. When his arms finally enclosed around me I felt complete.

"Thank you." I said and pulled away before Fink could remark. I glanced and I could see his stupid grin showing his slightly stained teeth. 'Perv.' My father on the other hand was smiling again and I realized just how nice it was to see him actually and truly happy. I felt bad that he had to return to the torment that was Markel. I could plainly see the torment in his eyes as he took a deep breath.

"No problem." He said shifting his glasses again with his forefinger. "I'll make sure no one's home tomorrow. Your mother love's my brother. I'm sure I could get her to take him out to dinner."

"I'll see you then." I said and nodded as my father rounded his car and smiled again as he fastened his seat belt. I felt all remaining contempt for him leave me then. Regardless of the past, what had happened; we were both victims of the same tyrant. Markel knew nothing of compassion and fed off sucking or fucking it out of others around him. How my mother was immune and oblivious to it I'll never know. I understood my father now and all I could do was punch Fink in the arm with a smile as my father drove away. Apparently Fink knew nothing of compassion either but he was much more tolerable.

"So," The blue Sheppard spoke as slyly as his monotone voice would allow. I knew the words that were coming before they were past his breath. I heard a click of a lighter and when I looked back to the dog I could see a rather painful looking bulge in his crotch; the knot was clearly defined as well as the copious amounts of pre leaking through his tight cut-offs. It made me wonder if my father had noticed it too when we had hugged. He inhaled deeply off his cigarette before bellowing out a sweet, acrid cloud of smoke; his free paw rubbing over his denim covered cock. I rolled my eyes and waited for the inevitable words to come. "You wanna suck some cock?"

The End of part Seven