Circumstance part 4

Story by Wip on SoFurry

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#4 of Circumstance

Part four, in which we get a little more insight into our deeply flawed co-protagonist, Glen.

I wish I was more poetic. That is a gap in my abilities that really need to be filled. It would help me with my descriptions... you know, that "paint with words," sort of a thing.

Well, I can take solace in the notion that every piece I write is a learning experience, inching me closer to my goal of competent writing.

Hope you find this enjoyable! And as always, feel free to offer criticisms, thoughts, suggestions, demands, etc. :-)


10

Doubt crept into Glen's mind like mold in a leaky basement. He recognized his own ineptitude in the realm of relationships and how that could fuck up an otherwise great setup. If he came to genuinely care about Sid, could he continue to indulge his sadistic kinks?

He had seen people who repressed their deviancies. They were never happy. And their work suffered.

Sid was excitedly pacing around the kitchen while Glen finished his meal and second guessed himself.

"Hey, Glen. You never told me what it is you do. I mean, I know there's an office involved, but, um, what do you do?"

Glen blinked slowly. The true nature of his job was somewhat less than legal. Not illegal, per se, really more of a gray area.

Keep it fuzzy, he thought to himself. "Risk management. Consultations. High level troubleshooting. That sort of thing."

Sid's face twisted in a vain attempt to understand what that could mean.

"So... What will I be doing?"

"I'll get you in a paid internship. You'll basically be an office boy."

Sid considered this. "Alright!"

Rather than fucking that evening, Glen spent a few hours on his laptop, filling out the necessary paperwork.

Sid sat next to the bear, giving information where he could. Most of it Glen had to make up. How could someone not be sure about their exact date of birth?, he asked himself with disbelief.

Glen made it clear that besides being directly under him, Sid should just assume everyone outranked him. Do whatever they tell you unless it conflicts with a "Glen-given order", was how he phrased it.

Sid was still enthused. "This is going to be great! At all my old jobs, my coworkers were dicks, and my bosses always hated me. But now, my boss is also my best friend!"

"Damn it, Sid. Don't get mushy. And remember, you'll be representing me, so try not to fuck up."

The fox snapped a quick salute. "Yes, sir! I won't let you down."

Glen kept his doubts to himself.

***

Four in the morning, Glen woke Sid and told him to get ready.

The fox was sleepy but by the time Glen was dressed Sid was standing outside his door, fully clothed. He wore black pants and a white collar shirt. Glen smiled at how uncomfortable and awkward the fox was in standard office attire.

Sid sang along to the radio while Glen drove through the canyons of glass and steel. He worked in the heart of downtown's business district.

Normally the drive would be taken in silence so he could mentally prepare for work. Listening to Sid sing Bohemian Rhapsody, he could not help but wonder if this impending clash of his two worlds should warrant more worrying.

What was that old adage about mixing business with pleasure? Oh, yeah. Don't.

The black SUV pulled into a small lot off the side of a highrise office building. Glen had a reserved spot. Unless you were a visitor, client or pretty high up the corporate ladder, you would be parking underground.

"Let me look at you," said Glen.

Sid swivelled in the passenger seat.

The bear's massive paw smoothed down the fox's wild hair. He gave an appraising look.

"Do those come out?"

"Huh?"

"The earrings," said Glen.

"Aww," pouted Sid.

That expression always gave the bear the simultaneous urge to violently fuck the fox and to give in to his petulance. "Brat." He rolled his eyes and got out.

The building's lobby was a cavernous mix of neo-classical marble columns and mid-century modern furniture. Just the right amounts to inspire awe and respect while telling you your money would be in the hands of people who care. At least that is what the overpaid interior decorator sold it as.

Glen walked briskly across the lobby. Sid followed a little behind, still unfastening the last few earstuds.

Before the central bank of elevators was strung an incongruous line of metal detectors and ques partitioned by velvet ropes.

Without giving it a thought, Glen walked around the side, bypassing the lines and security protocols. Only stopping when he heard a loud yelp followed by a scuffle.

Oops, he thought.

A rather muscular wolf had Sid pinned with his knee on the fox's neck and a taser pointed. Even as other private security rush to aid their fellow, the wolf was shouting into his radio. "Code four! Code four!" He growled to the fox, "Don't fucking try it, scummbag!"

"He's with me," declared Glen.

Despite the rules-are-rules aura about the guard, he quickly holstered his weapon and sprung off of Sid.

"Sorry, mister Hess. I didn't know."

Glen turned and continued to the elevators. Sid struggled to his feet while the wolf glared menacingly.

When the fox was safely next to Glen, he turned around and stuck his tongue out.

Inside the gilded lift, Glen told Sid, matter of factly, "if he gives you hard time again, he's gone."

Glen watched the fox's reflection in the polished gold doors as the tail that instinctively tucked itself between his legs relaxed.

Near one of the top floors, Glen exited wordlessly. The fox rushed behind. Through a pair if expensive teak wood doors was the reception area for Glen's office.

"Holy shit!" he heard the fox exclaime.

It must have been the view. Glen had long ago become accustomed to the godlike perspective the wall length windows gave him, looking down on most of the city. But to someone not used to it, he could understand why the fox had to pause and gawk.

Glen let Sid take in the view. He walked to the cluttered desk of his secretary.

"Good morning, Mr. Hess," said the full figured female badger.

"Morning, Ann. I need you to take him down to Resources," he motioned over his shoulder. "Get him an I.D. High security clearance. He should already be in the system but you might want to stop by accounting to make sure they've got him on payroll."

"So, you finally got a personal assistant," she said accusingly.

Glen had made it a point thus far to refuse many of the perks that he was offered. Among them was the offer of personal assistant. Glen thought it would be more distracting than helpful. But he had told his loyal secretary if he ever did get one, he would make sure she filled the position, and got the pay raise that came with it.

"Of course not, Ann. Just bringing in a new paid intern. You know I keep my word."

If she doubted that, she hide it well. After switching on an automated voicemail system, she got up and walked towards Sid.

Glen entered his private office and closed the door behind him.

***

11

It was almost noon when Glen pulled himself away from his desktop. He stretched and rubbed his eyes.

He tapped the intercom. "Ann, would you have the new guy paged."

"Yes, Mr Hess."

She had been his secretary for several years, but never lost the formalities. He appreciated that.

Buzz. "Mr. Hess. Your intern is here."

God damn it, thought Glen. Don't call him my intern.

"Send him in."

The door cracked and the fox slide in. "Hi ya, Boss!"

"Looks like you're having a fun day."

"Yes, sir! I'm learning all sorts of shit." Sid took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs opposite Glen's desk.

Glen looked at the new laminated I.D. card that was clasped to Sid's shirt pocket. "'Sid Blassko, employee number 64319.' Love the picture."

Sid blushed. The I.D. picture showed the fox wide-eyed and ears flattened. It looked more like the last image recorded by a kamikaze drone, than a typical workers picture.

"You want to eat lunch with me, foxy?"

"Of course I do."

Glen tapped the intercom. "Double my usual lunch order."

An unnecessarily long pause. "Yes, Mr. Hess."

Great. She sounded pissed. If she knew a fraction of the debauchery that goes on in some of the other executive's offices... fuck it, I'll get her a present.

Sid was all smiles.

They chatted about what Sid had been doing all morning. It was clear to Glen that the fox was really grateful for the bear's continued benevolence and putting a lot of effort into it.

"They showed me where the supply rooms are. And how to mark off things from the inventory list," said the fox. "And I'm going to be helping with 'intra-office' mail."

"So, they're showing you around all the departments?"

"Yes. Did you know you have racoons working in accounting?" asked the fox.

"Yeah. So?"

"Well... you know. Natural thieves, around all that money..." Sid raised his eyebrows.

"Jeezus, Sid. Remind me how many times you shoplifted in the past year."

Sid lowered his ears and took a bite of his panini. He changed the subject. "Did you know that most of the other interns I met don't even get paid?"

"Well, that's typically how an internship goes down."

"Heh. I guess so."

"Anyways, foxy. Did you want to knock off early today, or stay 'til two?"

"I'd like to stay until two, if that's alright."

"As long as you're having fun."

***

12

When Glen arrived home that evening, he was once again greeted with the odors of home cooking.

"Good, boy," he whispered before opening the door. He did not want to build up Sid's ego too much.

He found Sid, shirtless, in the kitchen, frantically poking at a stir fry.

Glen let out a lewd whistle.

Sid jumped and almost drop the spatula. "Glen! I, uh- Hi."

The bear folded his arms across his chest. "What's wrong?" The fox's tone was easy to read.

Sid hung his head. "I kinda, sorta fucked up dinner."

Glen hardened his face and watched those big, round fox eye's well up.

"I need a cook book or something." He wiped his eye's. "I can't do anything right."

Glen rolled his eyes. "Calm down." He walked over and put his arm around the fox's neck, while craning to see how bad the stir fry really was.

Blackened shrimp floated in a nearly liquid puddle of green. Can vegetables just liquify like that? he wondered.

"Yeah, I'm not eating that. Call someplace and have something delivered." Glen took his arm off the fox. "Something mediteranian. I don't feel like oriental, now."

Glen went to the living room to let Sid wallow in self pity. He turned on the television and flipped to the news.

I guess I'll have to discipline him, he thought. That might make for enjoyable after-dinner entertainment.

Moments later, Sid slunk in and stood next to the couch.

Glen motioned for him to speak.

"I ordered some pizza and bread sticks."

Glen watched the screen while the fox fretted.

"H-how was the rest of your day, Glen?"

"It was fine. Until now when I find out you don't have an edible supper ready."

He heard the fox swallow hard.

"I'm sorry. I told you I wasn't good at cooking."

"Now you're fucking arguing?" The bear's words took on a deeper tone as he turned his head to stare at Sid.

Sid looked down. The bear was starting to scare him. "I- I'm not arguing with you. I just- I'm sorry." Sid's voice cracked. "I just need a little more practice."

The radiating fear in Sid's voice was like an aphrodisiac. "Now you want to make excuses?" growled Glen

"Y- No! Please, I'm sorry. You know I wouldn't want to disappoint you!"

Glen Stood up and the fox cringed. He reveled in the quivering fear he could inspire in his fox.

"You will be punished. Do you want it now or after we eat?"

"After!" Sid squeaked.

Glen had hoped he would have said that. The tension would build to a low boil. He was not entirely sure how he would play this, but just the options he could think of were getting him hard.

"Take off your pants, boy."

Sid dropped to his knees. "Pleease! I-I-I said after!" His voice was as shaky as his body.

"I know," the bear said coldly.

Sid unfastened his belt and started sliding off his pants while still cowering on the floor.

Pathetic, thought Glen. "Go set the table."

Sid, naked except for boxers, scrambled on all fours out of the living room. Glen heard him pulling plates out of the kitchen cabinets.

As subtle as the fox could, which was not very in his panicked state, he tried to keep the table between himself and Glen.

Glen could hear him breathing fast. If he did not possess such excellent self control, he would already be pounding Sid.

There was not much to put out, as far as place settings go. It was pizza and bread sticks. But Sid tried his best to slow things down. Plates, cups, forks and knives, all brought out one at a time.

A knocking provided the distraction Sid prayed for.

Glen smiled as the fox literally ran to the apartment door. He overheard the delivery guy start to ask if everything was alright, before the door slammed on him. Sid must have forgotten his state of near nudity, and with that expression of abject terror... "Mmmhm," He groaned in pleasure.

The fox timidly came back to the kitchen carrying a large pizza box and a smaller one containing the side.

Inspiration struck the bear with the smell of the mouth watering food. "Sid."

The fox looked up from the pizza he was doling out to the two plates. "Yes, Glen?"

"Get a bowl."

The puzzled fox complied without hesitation.

Glen took the bowl and walk slow and deliberately to the stove.

"I guess accidents do happen. I'm still not happy about it, but I'm not as angry as you think." He turned his back on Sid and looked into the wok. "As much as it pains me to do it, you will need to learn a lesson from this."

Glen repressed a huge smile and dipped the bowl into the wok of burned crustacean, semisolid unidentifiable vegetables and way too much cooking oil.

He put the bowl in front of Sid, and removed the slice of pizza.

The fox stared blankly into the aborted stir fry.

"Eat your mistake," said Glen, "and maybe you can have some leftover pizza for breakfast. If there is any left."

He watched the struggle play out over Sid's face. The furrowed brow and the plaintive eyes. Whatever was going on in his head, Glen was impress at the fox's ability to bite his tongue.

Sid did not set out spoons, one of them would have been more appropriate for the bowl of mush. Surprisingly, it did not smell that bad.

Glen leaned closer and held out a slice of pizza. "Cheers."

Sid ignored that, tipped the bowl to his lips and swallowed a mouthful.

The bear found it hysterical. Sid began retching.

"If you throw any of that up, you'll just have to eat it again."

Sid bent over and wrapped his arms around his stomach. Somehow he managed to compose himself.

"Please, don't make me do this. I learned my lesson," Sid whimpered.

Glen shook his head. As fun as he found it, the thought that this might be needlessly cruel poked at the back of his mind. "I spoil you too much. You know that?" He dropped a slice of pizza in front of Sid.

"Thank you," murmured Sid. "Can I go throw up now?"

Glen laughed, "no. This is actually good practice for you. You need to work on that gag-reflex."

Sid groaned, still bent over.

Glen chewed another bite. "How much oil did you use? Look's like a fuckin' soup."

"I thought... with it being a 'fry,' I'd just do what they do at that chicken place."

This brought out a fit of laughter. "It's really lucky you're so damn fuckable, 'cause you're dumb as hell."

"But, you forgive me?"

"Yeah," Glen sighed.

***

By the time they finished the pizza and most of the bread sticks, Sid was feeling a lot better.

The fox belched loudly. "I am stuffed!" he declared.

"Not yet." Glen rose.

The fox scrunched lower in his chair.With no resistance, he let Glen pull him to his feet. The difference in size became apparent once again.

Glen looked down on the fox, still in just his boxers, and began to unfasten his belt.

For a moment Sid was paralyzed with fear as to which hole would be getting violated. When Glen spun him around, it was almost a relief, the unknown was always frightening.

Sid let himself get pushed onto the kitchen table. The empty pizza box fell to the floor. Sid absently observed he would be the one to pick that up.

Glen gave a quick slap to the fox's ass. "Wait here a moment," he told the fox, as if he had a choice.

Glen held his pants up and walked to his room to get something. It was not something he often used. In fact he could not think of the last hooker he had used it with.

A little rummaging through his nightstand drawer and there it was. An almost full bottle of lubricant. He looked at it, what it was saying about his relationship, if he could call it one.

"What a fucked up show of affection this will be," he said to himself.

Back in the kitchen fear was building again inside Sid. His imagination provided a host of hellish tortures Glen could be cooking up. In spite of that, he remained bent over the kitchen table. He knew if he could somehow prove his devotion to Glen...

The bear was standing behind him again. He looked down at the fox's back. The red fur was bristling in anticipation. He pulled down the boxers, exposing that tight, scrawny ass.

Sid grabbed the edge of the table. He desperately wished he had something to bite down on. He did not want to scream.

Glen bent the fox's tail out of the way.

Sid jerked as he felt Glen's other paw slap down on his ass. It was cold.

Eventually Sid realized the bear was rubbing some sort of gel on him. Sid gasped at the feeling. The gel was smeared from the base of his sack and worked in around his hole.

He shivered. The cold was becoming a tingle. Not unpleasant.

Glen probed Sid with his finger. He felt satisfied at how he could slip it in and out. Without giving warning, he pressed his rock hard shaft to the pucker.

Sid was panting. He vividly remembered last time. But the sensation of Glen fingering him and the almost tickling sensation of the lube reminded him of that fleeting feeling of pleasure he had felt before the pain became blinding.

What could only be the cockhead began to stretch him. Sid let out a high pitched grunt. It was hurting, but not like last time. He gasped for air as Glen pushed deeper.

"Oh God," Sid shuddered.

Glen started to withdraw for his next thrust.

Sid let go of the table with his right hand and reached behind him. He grabbed hold of Glen's shirt. Rather than pushing away, Sid feebly tried to pull him closer. The tingling lube was inside him and the bear's motion was hitting those elusive nerves he had so recently discovered.

Glen grinded into the fox again. "You slut," he laughed between huffs. "You're actually enjoying this, aren't you?"

Sid was moaning. He let go of Glen's shirt and reached for his own cock. The pain was still there but not enough to override the pleasure this time.

He wanted to tell Glen to go faster. Deeper. But all he could do was grit his teeth and try to breath.

Glen rammed into the fox. It was taking longer this time. Sid was getting something out of it, too. It somehow made it less erotic for the bear.

He let go of the fox's bushy tail. with his newly free hand he grabbed Sid's arm, the one he was stroking with, and wrenched it back.

Sid shrieked from the pain and the sudden stop put to his jacking.

Glen had the fox's arm locked and twisted back. The thrusting had the fox pinned even as the sturdy table threatened to slide.

Glen twisted just enough to hurt. Sid yelled incoherently. The pain was causing the fox to clench, maximizing Glen's pleasure.

The bear's member started to throb. He reached around Sid, with his other hand, and gripped the fox's cock like a cigarette.

Sid began grunting when the bear started to milk him. Between the sensory overload and novelty of this experience, Sid was soon on the edge.

"Faster," the fox moaned.

Glen stopped jerking Sid.

The fox whined plaintively until Glen let go of his arm. Sid furiously resumed pumping himself.

Glen was now solely focused on his final thrusts. He shot a torrential bust of seed with a roar of exultation. "Take it, you fucking slut!" he yelled, pumping out the last of his load.

The feeling of the bear's cum jetting into him pushed Sid over the edge. He shot his seed onto the floor and felt his legs go rubbery.

Glen was breathing heavily. In tranquil, postcoital bliss, he ran his fingers down the fox's spine. Sid sighed loudly.

"Did I do ok?" asked the exhausted vulpine.

Glen slowly pulled out of the warm fox hole. "Not bad, foxy."