Sibirskaia: No More Lies Part 2

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No More Lies No One Else

(November 10th)

Sunday afternoon.

A breeze rolled through the back yard. His fur shifted. It was cool. In fact, it was bordering on the cold...but Jeffery didn't mind. He didn't even bother to pull his clothes tighter to ward it away. After all, he was so used to wearing nothing but the collar, that any amount of clothing was warm enough. The sun was high...or at least as high as it ever was in the fall. The dead and dying leaves shifted about, and he wondered how this back yard -- this yard that was still so new to him, no matter how familiar it felt -- would look covered in snow.

The rustle of leaves. The movements of little feral critters all about. And the sounds of suburbia to every side. It was calm. It was peaceful...relaxing. It was serene, even. But above everything else...

...it was boring.

This? This was how he spent his Sundays? How he'd spent the Friday and Saturday before, and nearly every one for weeks and weeks, gone by? Sure, it was better than the street. It was better than hiding in fear of his biological father. But it was just so damned boring!

Jeffery Hammond -- and it WAS Hammond, not Anderson, no matter what the official records might say -- was a fourteen year old boy! Where were the parties? The sleepovers? Camping trips? Dates? Movies with friends? Games? Food court rendezvous, at the mall? Anything!

This was it? Day in, day out: just Scott and James? No friends, no social life, no life at all!

And the worst part was: he'd barely noticed. Sure, it had crossed his mind. But it had never come barreling on, with a head of steam like this. It had never left him sitting, brooding in silence on his back porch. It had never made him want to rage or cry.

So why today?

No. He knew why. It was because of Scott and James. Today was to be their 'special day' out! They'd warned him last night, so it was no big surprise. But it wasn't until after lunch -- only minutes ago -- when it really hit him. They were leaving. They were going out to town, to see their movie and have their date, and he would be left here...

Alone.

But he wasn't jealous. Not in the strictest sense, anyway. He had been jealous before, and he knew what that felt like. When he thought he was losing Scott to James -- and before he accepted that it was actually for the best -- he had learned what it was to be jealous. He'd seen his fox disappearing into someone else's arms, and he was frightened, and angry, and possessive. But this wasn't that.

He didn't regret their arrangement. He loved seeing how happy his fathers were together. He cherished his new, comfortable live, and having two parents who loved him so dearly. And he knew, no matter what he felt for Scott, that one day he would find something much better with someone his own age. He didn't want Scott, back. He didn't want James. He didn't even want a boyfriend or a lover, at all, yet.

He just wanted friends.

No. This wasn't jealousy. It was just...loneliness. Plain and simple. He hadn't had anyone he could call a friend or a peer since the streets, or any ACTUAL friends since he ran away from home. Except, of course, for Elliot and Hunter. But, barring the funeral, he hadn't seen them in over three weeks!

And now, with the prospect of spending his Sunday alone, while Scott and James left to have their fun...their night on the town? It only stood as a reminder of how alone he really felt. Seeing their love life flourish only reminded him that he didn't have one. No love life. No social life.

No life at all.

The door behind him opened, and the sounds of tapping footpaws approached. But it was no surprise. He knew he hadn't hidden his mood very well. He never could. But honestly? He couldn't say that he'd really even tried this time.

Scott Hammond -- his father, his master, and the fox whose name he would one day take -- sat down at his side. "Okay, Kitten," he settled himself on the edge of the porch, "let's talk."

"Talk?" The little gray cat stammered, "A-about what?"

But his master just shrugged, "You tell me."

"I don't...I don't know what you mean. I..."

"Uh-uh," another voice joined in from behind, "None of that." And Jeff turned to see James standing only feet away, by the now closed door, "You're not gonna' fool us that easy, bud. You're not a good enough liar."

"We know something's wrong," Scott agreed. "So just let us help."

But Jeffery only shook his head, "R-really. I'm fine."

"No you're not," his vulpine father sat steadfast. "Haven't we learned by now that lying to one another just causes more problems?"

Meanwhile, his raccoon lover, through a hint of timidity, offered: "Would it be better if I left you two to talk alone?"

Great! Now James thought Jeff didn't want him here? Thought he wasn't comfortable talking about this in front of him?

"No!" the kitten assured him. "No. Y-you don't have to go. I just..." he shrugged, sincerely hoping they'd just leave it be, "It's just not that big of a deal, okay?" The last thing he wanted was for them to find out it was their date that had set him on this little fit of depression.

Scott though, wouldn't be turned away so easily, "Not a big deal? Yeah, I've heard that before. And if memory serves, it was back when you were upset about me and James being together." He raised an eyebrow at the boy, "You know? When you loved me but didn't want to say?"

"But, hey!" the raccoon behind them chirped. "At least we're making progress. We got him to admit that SOMETHING's up."

"And now we find out what," Scott nodded. And with a soft, comforting smile he looked his kitten in the eye, "It's okay, Jeffery. I promise we won't be mad. You can talk to us about this, no matter what it is. And -- whatever we've done to upset you -- we'll fix it."

Oh, well this was even better! He hadn't even said anything about the date, yet, and they already thought it was their fault!

"But," James added, "if you don't tell us, then we're just gonna' keep right on doing it, keep right on hurting you, and...well, you've seen how that stuff can snow ball."

"W-wait. You? No. No, no, no," the cat shook his head, and then looked back and forth between the two. "You didn't do anything wrong. This isn't your fault. It's just..." There was no point in hiding it. They couldn't help him, but they wouldn't leave him alone until he gave them an answer. And it was far better that they knew the truth, than to think that he was angry with THEM. So, "I'm just lonely, okay?"

And his raccoon repeated: "Lonely?"

Of course, he didn't need to tell them that their date had anything to do with it. "I just wanna' have friends, again," he explained. "I-I love you -- both of you -- and I wouldn't give up what we have for anything. But...but it would be nice to have a few friends, too."

Softly, Scott's paw lit upon his shoulder, "Kitten..."

"I know," the boy stopped him. "I know I can't go to school or anything, and..." he sparked a little smile, "and I know I already have a few friends, too! Like, y-you know? Elliot and Hunter? But I haven't even seen THEM in weeks. And I just..." with a shrug and a sigh, he simply repeated himself: "Like I said, I'm just...lonely."

"Well, is there anything we could do to help?" the fox asked.

"No. Not really," Jeff shook his head, yet again, and turned his drooping eyes on the ground. "I mean: it's...it's not like you could MAKE them want to hang out with me."

Behind him, though, James laughed aloud...

...and he sharply turned his gaze on his master's boyfriend, "What's so funny?"

"You," he answered. "You're being silly."

"I am not!"

"Yeah you are." With a wide smile, the raccoon explained: "Elliot and Hunter aren't avoiding you, kiddo. It's not like they don't like you, or don't wanna' hang out. Their lives are just kinda'...well...fucked up, right now."

And Scott added: "What with Elliot's parents' divorce, Hunter's grandmother's funeral..."

"...those pictures..." James interrupted.

"...and the accusations Elliot's father is having to fight?" the fox went on. "I mean: you remember me telling you about the detectives, right?"

"Yeah..."

"With all of that, they really just don't have the time for much else," his father concluded...

...and the raccoon to his back echoed the sentiment: "It's nothing against you. Their lives just really suck, lately."

"Okay? So..." Jeffery took a breath, being careful to phrase this just right: "...isn't that the BEST time for them to have a friend?"

And Scott could only blink in silence...

...as the cat continued: "Someone to talk to and hang out with? Someone to vent to? Someone...just to distract them from all the shit they're dealing with? I mean: that could be me! Or..." his moment of certainty, though, passed him by, "I-I could try, at least..."

"You know, Scott?" James spoke up again: "I think he's got a point."

"Okay!" his vulpine father clapped his paws together. "How about me and James talk to them tomorrow, then? I'm sure they'd be up for it. Because, with everything going on, they've been too busy to even THINK about contacting us...but if we contact THEM? I'm sure they'll be over here in a heartbeat!"

Jeff felt a smile spread across his muzzle, but before he could say a word -- before he could thank his fathers, ask them any questions, or make even the smallest of suggestions -- he heard James snap his fingers. Scott's eyes turned toward the sound, and the raccoon approached. He knelt, and borrowed his muzzle in the fox's upturned ear.

Jeffery couldn't hear what was being said: only the Morse buzz of his one of his fathers whispering to the other. He watched Scott's eyebrow rise...his eyes widened...and, as James stood and stepped away, his forehead fall into his paw.

"I'm an idiot," his vulpine father groaned.

"No you're not," the raccoon argued. "You had good reason: you were just being careful. You didn't know if you could trust him with it, at first."

"But that's been a thing of the past for a while now," Scott looked back up...

...and Jeff finally asked: "What are you two talking about?"

"James's fantastic new idea!" his fox turned to him with a smile. "Tomorrow after school, I'm going to go get another line added to my cell phone plan."

"Just for you!" James added. "Like any normal teenager has."

And Scott nodded, "And then, from now on, you'll be able to get a hold of them on your own! Whenever you want..."

In a burst, the cat dived forward, wrapping his arms around his master, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" It was everything he could've hoped for and more!

But, above the two, a raccoon stood pouting, "Hey! What about me? It was MY plan!"

And so, Jeffery released his fox, stood, and wrapped his arms, instead, around his other master, his other father, and his raccoon: James Callaway. Happily, that father lifted him off of his footpaws and swung him around with a grin...

...as, behind them, Scott stood as well, "Why don't we take this back inside?"

And back on solid footing, Jeff just nodded and went along...letting his fathers lead the way. To say he was ecstatic seemed nearly an understatement. But was there really a better word? After all: what more could he possibly ask for? This was perfect!

He could call or text Elliot and Hunter whenever he wanted to! There was no more wondering when or what they could do. No more waiting around and hoping they might contact him, or trying to get Scott and James to make the connection, for him. He could just do it himself, like any normal teenager! And why should it stop there? Certainly they had other friends, too: friends he could meet through them and make into his own!

Because...they DID mention that hyena, after all...

Meanwhile, though, as his head spun, and he imagined all the varied possibilities -- both platonic and carnal -- his fathers had slipped away to the far end of the living room, muttering and whispering amongst themselves. Again, he wasn't sure about what...

...but after a few moments, James broke away and drew close, "Uhm, kiddo?"

"Yeah, yeah," the kitten just waved a paw. "I know: you two have your big day all planned out," he acknowledged, assuming he knew what the raccoon had to say. "Don't worry. I'm all better. You two go have fun."

"Actually..." James tilted his head, "that's not what I was gonna' say."

And Scott followed along behind, "See? We talked it over. And I'm sure the cell phone plan made you very happy, but you're still feeling lonely."

"And," his raccoon father continued, "your little high is gonna' wear off pretty quick once we leave, and you're left here all by yourself."

"So we decided that we can wait to have our night on the town some other time." Their fox smiled, "You know: save it for when you don't need us."

"And, instead, we're gonna' spend the day with you!"

~

A cry shot from his lips, as James's cock pierced his hole.

It was a short, sharp, and feeble little cry -- a yelp -- and it was to be expected. After all: it hurt. It always hurt. No matter how good it ever came to feel, Jeff had never completely overcome the pain. So he'd expected that yelp. He'd expected the gritted teeth and the collecting tears in the corners of his eyes, as the raccoon's shaft plunged deep beneath his tail.

Of course, this time, the yelp wasn't Jeffery's. They weren't his shifted tail, his stretched hole, his gritted teeth, or his watering eyes.

They were Scott's.

Jeffery sat, nude but for his collar, with his small, barbed, feline prick in paw, and watched as his master was fucked. Watched his ankles hoisted into the air, and his calves laid upon James's shoulders. Watched his back arch out -- from its place flat on the bed -- and his paws grip at the sheets...

...as his raccoon pulled those orange hips against his own, forcing inch after inch of his thick, knotless meat deeper and deeper inside. Jeff was more than familiar with that meat, himself, by now. He knew how it felt. He watched it disappear into his master's hole for as long as he could...and, then, once the view was obscured by hips and thighs, he turned to watch his vulpine father's face.

There was no point in watching James's, of course. He already knew how the raccoon's eyes fluttered shut as the heat enveloped him. How he sighed and shook as he hilted. And how he grinned as he pulled back...just before the real ride could begin.

But Scott's face? That was a sight to behold!

Especially how his eyes shot open and his jaw fell slack. How his chest heaved and his breaths rolled free, when the raccoon's thrusts truly began. When his body was rocked back and forth on the bed, there, at the mercy of his lover...of Jeff's second father...of the rigid and unforgiving lust of James Callaway.

"S-slow down, honey," Scott begged, a meek and helpless little whimper like Jeff had never heard.

"Oh, don't be like that!" His raccoon, though, just smiled, fingers digging deeper into his hips, "You know you like it."

And Jeff's master met his lover's continued speed with a rumbling growl, "Seriously. Just...just be a little gentler, okay?"

But James -- with a punctuated thrust -- simply answered: "You're not being a very good fox!"

"Ohh..." Scott's head fell back, "I'm gonna' make you regret this..."

"Well then I better make the most of it, now...right?"

And as the raccoon leaned in, sped up, and as the slapping sounds of their hips filled the room...

...Scott turned his strained, but loving eyes on his boy. "Enjoying the show, Kitten?

Jeffery could only nod in rapt silence. And if that nod wasn't a good enough answer -- it nor the leaking barbed cock in his paw -- then nothing else would be. This was exactly what he had hoped to see!

His masters had felt guilty. Despite his best efforts, they knew their date had contributed to his sullen mood, and when they all inevitably ended up nude and in bed...

...they gave him a choice.

This would be for him. They wouldn't use him as their pet. They wouldn't take his frail little body and make it theirs -- like they so loved to do -- unless it was what HE wanted, today. That was how they phrased it. Word-for-word. And he could see in James's eyes how much the raccoon hoped that that was, indeed, what Jeffery would want. But of course, what the kitten DID want...definitely didn't disappoint the 'coon.

Scott, after all, was always on top. He'd never so much as taken his kitten's little thorn, let alone James's impressive bone. So, once -- just once -- Jeffery wanted to see HIM have to be the one to submit. And James was more than happy to make it happen!

The boy loved the show.

It was everything he wanted it to be. But, of course, he wasn't content with just sitting on the sidelines, either. And so, before his father even knew he had moved, the kitten's rough tongue was snaking its way out and into the fox's sheath.

Scott tensed and inhaled as the tongue touched his tip. He sighed as it traced circles all around, and lapped up his pre. He moaned as he swelled, trading the warmth and moisture of his sheath... for the warmth and moisture of his son's muzzle.

And Jeffery sucked, and lapped, and drew it out into his mouth...but his eyes never closed. He watched James's stomach advance and withdraw with every thrust. He watched Scott's balls bouncing to the rhythm. And he watched his master's knot swelling in his sheath...before he finally took hold of his father's white-furred sleeve of flesh, and pushed it back to reveal the swollen bulb beneath.

It was difficult for him to pull away. It took some effort to leave such an enticing view, or to give up the taste tickling his tongue. But he did. He replaced his muzzle with his paw, and he turned his grinning, sticky face toward his master's...

"See?" he giggled, waving the twitching, leaking, marble-red meat all about. "You DO like it!"

Scott's breaths were ragged from the thrusting that had never stopped, and never slowed...but he managed to meet his kitten's giggle with a laugh of his own, "You're, uh...definitely distracting me from the discomfort."

And without another word or wasted moment, Jeffery climbed over the fox, and lifted his tail. For an instant, he wondered if James would pull free of Scott and take his opportunity with the cat's suddenly-presented, pink hole. But Jeff knew better. The raccoon wasn't about to give up this afternoon's vulpine prize.

And so the cat lowered himself down, pointing the slimy, dripping rod directly at his hole. And he took it all! In one sharp, violent drop: everything but the knot! And it hurt. It always hurt. No matter how good it ever came to feel, Jeffery had never completely overcome that pain.

But after the show he'd just been given?

He was too pent up to care. He needed it. He wanted it. It was worth the pain!

And so the kitten bounced there on one of his fathers, as the other's thrusts rocked them more and more violently with every plunge. He gripped Scott's chestfur in his paw. He clenched his eyes shut. He sprang again and again. And finally, he slammed down with all of his weight! The knot slipped in, with a brutal and audible pop, but one drowned out entirely by the sound, in stereo...

...of both Scott and his son howling aloud.

~

"So, what about Ender's Game?"

The bathroom was filled, wall-to-wall, with steam. No surprise to anyone present, though. After all, none of the three would take anything less than a scalding hot shower.

Luckily, the water heater was up to the challenge.

Scott, already in his underwear, stood at the sink, obsessively grooming his nearly dry fur in the foggy mirror. Behind him, Jeffery, with even his collar cast off, now, rubbed violently at his own fur with a towel, desperate to soak up every drop of water from every gray hair. And behind the near-opaque shower curtain, James continued to scrub himself down...

...especially the stickiest parts of his groin and sheath.

"I'm not sure," Scott answered his pet. "I liked the book. But that could be a really good thing...or really bad."

"Ender's??" James called out, louder than his lover and their son, so he could be heard over the shower. "Doesn't that star a kid?"

"Yeah," their kitten answered. "So?"

And his fox explained: "He has a...problem with that sort of thing."

"Ah!" Jeff nodded and turned his muzzle toward the curtain, to joke: "You don't wanna' get a hard on in the theatre, huh?"

"Nah!" The raccoon joked back: "I'm sure you'd help me out, if I did."

"Now, now. Don't get his hopes up!" Scott chuckled.

"Hey!" the little cat hissed playfully...

...while James continued from behind the curtain: "Seriously, though. I just find kid heroes in situations like that to be uh...a little too unrealistic."

"And I keep telling you," the fox called back, "it's different in Ender's. They don't try to make him out to be a...badass."

"Yeah, that's what you told me about Potter, too. But, still, I-"

A piercing chime abruptly cut him short.

The doorbell.

Curses dripped from Scott's muzzle, as he snatched up his clothes and rushed out into the hall.

His pants were in his paw and his shirt was flung over his shoulder. The doorbell rang again, and the fox stalled in the living room, hopping on one foot to shimmy his way into his pants. Buttoned and zipped, he stumbled on, blinded for a moment before his head could pop through the neck of his shirt, and nearly knocked over a lamp with his flailing arms.

But, as the doorbell chimed its third, he finally reached the door, clothed, disheveled, and ready to greet whomever this was, with reason to visit, unannounced, on a Sunday afternoon.

And as he pulled the door open he was met with two smiling faces. One stark and monochrome, and one striped: orange, white, and black.

Elliot and Hunter had come to visit.

~

And Sibirskaia continues...

* This particular chapter (and the rest of Sibirskaia) was written entirely by Oloroso Rhone. But it was based on characters and story lines I created jointly with my friend Phil Anthro Pist

If you'd like to go say hi to Phil, he's got an account on here at http://phil-anthro-pist.sofurry.com/ *

We could talk about a few things here...

Jeffery's loneliness, his and his fathers' immediate reaction to being left home, his soon-to-increase social life, or how popular Ender's Game seems to be with my cast...but really? This was a very calm and chill chapter in comparison to most of Sibirskaia. Or TM & AWB. Or Forbidden et al. Or anyting I've ever written, really. So how about we just ask ONE question to wrap this up:

What are Elliot and Hunter doing there??

Anyway, thanks for reading!

I welcome any feedback. Comment or PM me here, or email me at theottercoon[at]gmail.com

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See you around for the next 18 chapters of Sibirskaia!