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Disclaimer: Contains M/M furry smut. Tasty huh? Remember: Only you can prevent Forest Fires ... umm err ... do not read if you're of sans legality. What you have in your electronic paws is the first part of a sequel series to 'Dinner Date'. Some of you were very interested in who that masked mystery master was, or how Grylor could do such horrible things for him. This story series should add a little more back story, and will eventually tie into 'Dinner Date', and beyond. Expect a cameo by Everyone's Favorite Computer Cracking Coyote as well. Grylor is copyright himself, used with his permission. Warning Kiddies: Contains Mature themes, even for some furs, most notably Incest between Father and Son, with elements of Age Play. Read at your own discretion, and Do Not Taunt Happy Fun Ball(tm) !!!

Family Business - Part I - The Loss

2006 by Eldyran

Mycaelis watched with apathy as his hot breath spilled from his muzzle and hung in the frigid, damp air moments before it drifted away and disappeared like a ghostly cloud. The haunting melody of bagpipes filled the air, which only added to the melancholy of the overcast September afternoon. A chilly breeze blew dead, damp leaves across the cemetery grounds, and everyone in the funeral procession pulled their black coats tighter as the ebony casket was lowered into the cold clutches of its moist, earthen grave. Mycaelis felt the chill seep all the way to his wolven bones, and the heat of the smaller male wolf that clung to him, sobbing, did little to shake the emptiness, small sense of loss, he now felt inside.

Mycaelis wanted to cry. He wanted to show everyone that the female in the casket not five feet from him meant everything to him. But he couldn't. But she didn't. In fact, the immense guilt of his impartiality pressed down on him, chilled him more than any overcast September day ever could. The small lupine body that hung on his black suit sobbed heavily, and Mycaelis ran his right paw over the back of his son's preteen furry ears. He dipped a muzzle to Grylor's tan colored ear to try silence him with a few comforting words, but they sounded empty, insincere, even to him. The melody of the bagpipes ended, and the small group of furs started to file away from the grave site.

A timed concerto of retorts pealed across the now deathly quiet cemetery; the sharp crack of the gunshots broke Mycaelis from his morbid reverie with a slight start. Grylor whined, hugged his father closer, but tried to be a brave, obedient little soldier, just like his mother always wanted him to be. Mycaelis led Grylor to the line of vehicles in the funeral procession, some of which were already heading out. As they reached their car, a burly male lynx in similar grieving attire walked up to them.

"Hey Mike. How is Grylor holding up?" Mycaelis patted the back of the preteen wolf, who sniffled and shivered in the clammy air.

"I think he's doing just fine, Samuel." He rubbed Grylor's ears and he looked up to the older males, his icy blue eyes still glazed somewhat from shock. The lynx discreetly slipped a orange pill bottle into the paw of the older, tan colored wolf, and put his other paw on the shoulder of his lover to comfort him.

"I ordered this up in case he needs it. Mild sedatives. He should take two with a bit of food if he can help it." Mycaelis smiled lightly at the lynx and hugged him with a free arm, the other around his son. He wondered if anyone still around would care. He thought most, if not all, knew about his relationship with the feline doctor. The lynx stepped back after the hug in respect, and nodded to Mycaelis. "How you doing?"

"Fine."

The lynx blinked, but knew better to pry. He knew he had a good thing going with the wolf, and didn't want to butt into what was most decidedly 'family business'. He nodded again, and opened the passenger side door for Grylor, who sat down quietly in the seat, paws folded in the lap of his dress slacks. He never looked up.

"I understand," Samuel said to Mycaelis as he shut the sedan door. There was a brief moment of silence as the two furs regarded each other.

"Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I'm here for you if you need anything."

"Yeah ... I know ..." The lynx sighed for a brief moment, then with a final nod, walked away. The wolf looked down at his feet. The feeling of overbearing guilt returned again, and he chided himself over the fact he was more upset over his lover's concern than the death of Grylor's mother. He looked up. Everyone was gone. He shook his head as he gave one last look to the grave site, got into the car, and drove home.

* * * * *

"Why can't you be more strict with him?"

Mycaelis tried to shoot up in bed, his light green eyes now wide open, but something clutched his midsection and whimpered. He looked down to Grylor's form. His arms clamped around his lower chest, refusing to let go even in his restless sleep. Grylor whimpered once more, then nuzzled his father's chest before falling back into his fitful dreams. Mycaelis blinked once at his son, before looking at the alarm clock on his nightstand, the red neon numbers burning through the impenetrable darkness of his bedroom.

2:12 am.

He closed his eyes and exhaled, the tension from the nightmare draining away. He rubbed his son's back; the tan, cream colored fur there rippling under his loving paw pads. Mycaelis didn't know when the preteen wolf had got up from his own cot in the guest room and slid into bed with him, but he guess he wouldn't mind, not this once, and especially not after the stress of recent events. The older lupine closed his eyes, exhausted.

The alarm was set for 6:00 am sharp. Maurice's lawyer wanted to get things some things taken care of right away, and she had been rather insistent about it. As he drifted back off to a light doze, Mycaelis secretly wondered if the two had been involved at one point. Not that it mattered, and certainly not that it was any of his business anyway. He chided himself again for not knowing more about Grylor's mother, and that was his last thought before succumbing to Morpheus' twisted dream scape.

* * * * *

"Tell me Mr. ... Avenches ... just what was your relationship to Ms. Stillwater?" Mycaelis blinked. He hadn't expected the picture perfect female lupine in front of him to be so direct. He shifted a bit under her intense, direct eye contact, now nervous.

"Quid pro quo, Ms. Starling." The female wolf with very distinct bands of white and black running through her gray fur stopped smirking.

"Fair enough. I suppose there is no harm in telling you, as you have no legal right to Maurice's assets." She swiveled slightly in her office chair, paw tip fingering a set of decorative pens held by a pair of female wolves, wiping off a small bit of dust that had collected there.

"We were going to move in together ... but of course the accident changed all that. It was ..." She stared off into space for a few moments, saddened by what seemed intense memories. " ... is ... hard for me, you understand. For a while after I wrote up her will, we were quite close ..." Mycaelis closed his eyes and nodded briefly, and for a split second was envious of those feelings; the feelings he thought, at some point, he should have felt about Grylor's mother.

"I see. Then she probably told you why she approached me fourteen years ago."

"Yes. Although from a legal standpoint, verbal contracts are hard to enforce, especially given the complicated nature of this particular agreement. When I found out about it last year, I warned her about what could happen should she ..." She trailed off, and reached for a tissue to whip off the few specks of dust that had momentarily collected on the mahogany finish of her luxe office desk. Mycaelis shifted in his seat, the silence uncomfortable.

"Then you know of our agreement?" The female lupine dumped off the barely soiled tissue into the empty trash bin by her desk and turned once more to stare at Mycaelis with amber eyes through her wire framed glasses.

"Just the gist, not the details, which I'm afraid, are of great importance right now." Mycaelis cleared his throat.

"Yes ... of course. Maurice approached me fourteen years ago, after quite a bit of searching on her part. What she asked of me was unsettling of course, it is not something a stranger usually asks of another."

"So just why did you agree to impregnate her then?" The lawyer tapped her claws on the desk, as if ... angry ... that she wasn't included in this decision made over a decade ago. Mycaelis blushed a bit.

"She agreed to fund my projects. The market for independent documentaries, as you can imagine, is quite small." She raised an eyebrow, still taping her claws, not buying it. Mycaelis sighed a little, noticing the other wolf's impatience.

"Also ... because ... I'm afraid, of my ego. It's not often I have strange females come up to me and tell me I'm superb genetic stock." He paused. "She said I was rather attractive, for a male, very intelligent, and free of any unwanted ... defects." The lawyer smirked.

"Sounds like something Murray would say ... maybe it was the military upbringing in her. So was she upset that she gave birth to a boy instead of a girl?"

"No ... not that ... she confided in me anyway."

"I see."

"What she did make it clear to me is that one, she wanted a gay male to father her offspring, so that there was no chance he could fall in love with her, to keep things as she put it, 'simple'." The other wolf nodded, following so far. "And second, that she wanted to ... conceive naturally." The female lupine blinked, taken off guard. Mycaelis shrugged.

"I'm not quite sure why she was so insistent on that, but for what she was offering in exchange, I had no reason not to." The other wolf looked somewhat disgusted, and Mycaelis shrugged again. "It was not altogether, unpleasant ..." The female lupine leaned back in her chair now, turning green.

"Thats not at issue right now. What was your verbal contact in regards to your son?"

"Well ... as far as Grylor was concerned, I could see him whenever I wanted to, take him for the weekends ... with her permission of course. I moved down the street in her neighborhood just for that reason."

"And the financial part?"

"Well ... she actually owned both our houses. She never asked for any financial assistance when it came to rearing him. I could buy him presents for his birthday, Christmas, but anything else she actively discouraged."

"I see. So you do understand while you have a legal right to take custody of your son, due to the way the current will is written, you have no rights to her assets." Mycaelis nodded slowly. "Furthermore, since Grylor is not a legal adult, he cannot assume responsibility of her estate." Mycaelis drew in a shallow breath, for the first time understanding the precarious financial situation he and Grylor now found themselves in.

"As it stands, as the will is written, her entire estate and all assets are to be sold and placed into a fund, that will be turned over to Grylor when he turns eighteen years of age. I'm sorry. I don't think she expected this tragic turn of events to take place, and frankly, I should have looked out for her son better ..."

Mycaelis' muzzle opened, his green eyes wide. The lawyer scoffed.

"At least then one of us would have ..." The female wolf regarded the male wolf with cold, unsympathetic eyes. "You have six months to move out of her houses and prove to the state that you can support Grylor in a decent standard of living. If you cannot, he will become a ward of the state."

Mycaelis stood up, shaking, and stumbled to the door. As he left, the female lawyer glanced once to his chair, and pondered whether or not to cleanse the seat of his scent.

* * * * *

The darkened house was chilly. But most of Mycaelis' body was nice and warm. He pealed his eyes open, still heavy with sleep. The covers of the bed had somehow got tangled in his hind paws, and they now lay at the foot of his bed. His embrace held something warm, and when he turned his head to see what he held, his muzzle met the sweet musky scent of Grylor's scruff. Mycaelis couldn't help but inhale some of his son's scent when he gave a short whimper of surprise.

The scent was so clean. So pure. So innocent.

Mycaelis shifted a bit, trying not to rouse the smaller wolf from his dreamless slumber. He nuzzled his offspring, eyes closed. Their matching fur pressed, mingled against each other, their forms sharing mutual body heat. Mycaelis gave one of Grylor's ears a small loving, lick with a long, lupine tongue, before returning his head to the pillow. Grylor shifted a bit and moaned, causing his father to look back over.

"Maaaattttt ...."

Mycaelis' breath caught in his throat. Why was his son calling out a male's name in his sleep? He glanced down to Grylor's boxers; the front tented, damp with arousal. Mycaelis' square nose flared, just now catching the scent of young, male heat in the air. The aroma slid deep into his nostrils, his mind filling with incredulous, unspeakable thoughts. It had been two months now since the funeral, since the last time he had seen Samuel, and the musky scent shook awake dormant desires he thought had long forsaken him.

Grylor moaned out his friend's name again, and squirmed in his father's embrace, caught deep in the throes of his wet dream. Sweat broke across his father's brow, and he tried to tear his eyes away from his son's crotch, but his green eyes widened as Grylor's red, tapered tip parted the front slit of his boxers. Mycaelis dared not breathe, dared not move, else wake Grylor and embarrass the preteen with his father's own voyeuristic tendencies.

It was Grylor in fact, who moved first, pressing his small furry rump back into the crotch of the older wolf, rubbing against the bulge that was now forming. Mycaelis gasped, but caught himself before he could cry out, as the younger wolf rubbed the base of his tail against his stiffening member. A torrent of conflicting thoughts, desires coursed through him. His mind told it was wrong to watch his own offspring like this, but his body paid no mind. Its light green eyes locked on the now fully erect, but smaller, adolescent member jutting out from its sheath just before him.

Grylor continued to moan, rub against the hardness behind him. His father was frozen, torn between waking up and embarrassing the preteen lupine, possibly scaring him even more later in life than he already was now, and allowing this mildly incestuous act to continue. Small jets of pre shot onto the sheets, the musky odor filling Mycaelis' thoughts, fueling these aberrant desires even more. Mycaelis trembled; the slight rock caused the smaller lupine to groan, and he reached in his dream for his throbbing member. After a few light, semi-intentional strokes, Grylor's adolescent limbs shook, and he silently squealed out his orgasm.

The thick, milky spurts splattered into the sheets, and Mycaelis' muzzle parted with lust as he felt the small frame in his embrace shudder, riding out its first orgasm. In a strange way, his father felt proud of his son, and was honored to have been witness to one of the first rites of adult male hood. After Grylor's paw fell away from his softening member, and his light pants evened out back into shallow breaths, Mycaelis exhaled and pulled the covers back over them both, trying to go back to sleep. The thick, pungent, aroma of fresh, hot male spunk clouded his dreams for the rest of the night, and visions of his son growing into a very attractive, somewhat feminine adult wolf danced about his conflicted mind.

* * * * *

A month later Grylor wandered into his mother's old bedroom while playing a solo pup's version of 'house', and stopped in front of the vanity and mirror to look at himself. He stood there for several minutes looking at his reflection, his paw running up to his cheek to touch a lock of jade head fur, an odd trait he inherited from his beautiful mother. The twinkle in his same colored irises made him giggle, the first time in three months, and his paw shot up to his muzzle lips, suddenly afraid.

He turned to the partially opened doorway and peered down the hall to his mother's old office. His father was busy doing that thing he did with the his cameras, still absorbed in whatever it was that he did. His father told him never to come into this room, but it was now one of the few areas of the home that still had the things he needed to really play house. Grylor slid over to the chair by the vanity and, without making too much noise on the creaky, antique chair, sat down.

His jade eyes peered over the many neat things on her vanity, and his paw pads ran over them, curious. His paw clutched an old picture in a collectors frame, taken before he was born, and when his mother was about his age. He pulled the picture in closer, and gasped when he looked in the mirror. The color of her body fur, head fur, her irises, almost matched his completely.

Aside from the buds of her developing breasts, he could have been her twin brother, and that made him smile. She had been beautiful. He wanted to be just as beautiful as she had been.

Maybe ... if he ...

Grylor picked up a tube of red lipstick and took off the top. He marveled at how pure the red really looked. After a few moments he figured out how to get the tip to extend out of its tube, and with a shaky, nervous paw, applied a bit to his lower muzzle lip. He took a moment to examine his look in the mirror, and was fairly pleased with the results. He took the cosmetic to his upper lip, and this time his paw was more confident, sure of itself.

Meanwhile his father stopped what he was doing in the study and perked his ears. Silence. Grylor's singing voice, still somewhat feminine and smooth, was no where to be heard. Although Mycaelis didn't have a lot of experience raising preteens, he had common sense to know that this probably meant that Grylor was up to no good. Grylor had always been like that around him, trying to get away with what his more strict mother wouldn't even think of tolerating. He sighed, and crept down the uncarpeted hallway to the one room he forbade the disobedient adolescent to go into.

Sure enough Grylor was in Maurice's old bedroom ... applying ... lipstick in the mirror. Mycaelis was more curious, surprised now than angry, and he stepped in behind Grylor, who seemed lost in his own reflection and thoughts. When Mycaelis placed a paw gently on his shoulder, Grylor cried out in surprise, and looked back at his father, suddenly very scared.

"Father ... I ... just saw ... wanted to ..." Mycaelis patted the adolescent wolf gently on the head.

"It's okay Grylor ..." He picked the smaller wolf off the chair and took his place, moving the preteen to his lap. "But you shouldn't be in here ... it might remind you of your mother ..."

"But father ... thats why I came in here. I miss ... her." His dark jade eyes welled up with tears, "Sometimes ... I miss her sooo much ...". Mycaelis hugged the smaller wolf tightly, paw rubbing his back.

"Ohhh I know you do." He kissed Grylor gently on the cheek. "Sometimes ... I do too ..." Grylor nodded, sniffling, and then leaned in to press his red lips against his father's own. Mycaelis' muzzle lips trembled in shock, before he pulled back. "Gylor, you shouldn't kiss me like that ... its not ... proper ..."

"Why not father? I love you. Isn't that what two furs do when they love each other?" He replied, trying to smile through his tear filled, innocent jade eyes. Mycaelis didn't know how to explain it best to Grylor. Even though he was now old enough to understand, Mycaelis lacked the experience to explain it to someone who had a lot of unusual feelings running through his constantly changing, young body. He smiled at the other wolf, and without thinking, said the first think that came to mind.

"That kiss is reserved for special furs, ones who make you feel ... 'tingly inside' ... like ... Matt." Mycaelis' suddenly realized he had let it slip he knew about Grylor's preteen crush on his best friend at school. Grylor's lower lip quivered.

"Father ... how do you ...?" Mycaelis tried to hush the confused lupine with a hug.

"You whisper his name in your dreams, son." The younger wolf suddenly buried his head into his father's chest, ashamed and scared of his father's imminent disapproval. Mycaelis rocked Grylor on his lap, trying to ease his tightly guarded sobs.

"Daddy ... I'm ... sorry ... I promise I'll like girls from now on! I swear I'll change!" Mycaelis hugged the conflicted wolf tightly, kissing his right furry ear, which twitched a bit.

"No no no ... it's okay Love ... its okay to like other boys ... especially that way." Grylor looked up in mid sob, surprised.

"It ... is?" He asked, wiping his tears away in the tan fur of his forearm, still confused.

"Oh of course it is." He smiled and wiped away some stray tears from Grylor's soft, furry cheeks. "You've met Samuel, remember the lynx who used to come over with me when I would pick you up for the weekend?" Grylor nodded slowly, and their light green and dark jade eyes locked for emphasis. "Well ... I liked him the way you like your friend Matt."

"Rea ... really?"

"Yes. Thats why your mother and I lived in different houses. She liked other girls, and I liked other boys." Grylor seemed to breathe easier, but still looked a little confused.

"Didn't you love her?" The unexpected question startled Mycaelis, and his muzzle quivered.

"I ... loved her ... in a different way, Grylor ..."

"Do you love me more than you did mother?" Mycaelis hugged tightly.

"Of course!" Before he realized what he had said, and how the young wolf could take that proclamation of his love, Grylor pressed his soft, lipstick covered muzzle lips to his again. This time his father did not startle as much, and a part of him consigned to relent into his son's ... unusual ... but strangely intimate, display of affection.

The taste of Maurice's favorite lipstick brought back pleasant memories, of the only time he kissed Grylor's mother; that one night they shared, out of a mutual desire to bring Grylor into this world. He closed his eyes and his lips began to move of their own violation; the tender flesh of their muzzle lips gripping each other, refusing to let go. For a strange, fleeting moment, Mycaelis felt as though they were all together again; one complete, loving family.

* * * * *

The ensuing months marched quickly on, and Mycaelis began to fret more and more about the approaching six month deadline. Out of his three documentaries in post production, he only managed to garner sufficient interest from one distributor for one of them, a high brow historical documentary on Seattle's construction boom of the late 1840's. Most of the outdoor shots were local, as he only lived about half an hour from the historic part of Seattle's old downtown, but some he had to take Grylor with, as those historic buildings lay more inland. Grylor seemed to get even more rowdy as time went by on these uneventful trips into the countryside, and Mycaelis' patience with his son began to wear thin.

One snowy, frigid, January day, while Grylor was trapped inside the house with nothing to do, his father was frantically trying to finish up a few cut away informative scenes in Maurice's old office and study. Loops of AV cords coiled around the legs of four different tripods on the shiny, well polished hardwood floor, and stacks of VHS tapes cluttered end tables and the computer desk alike. The only clean spot in the entire room was centered at the apex of all four cameras, where an expensive walnut renaissance armchair sat in the epicenter of a quadruple set of umbrella lighting fixtures.

Mycaelis shot back and forth between takes and editing the footage directly on his personal computer, which looked like a Medusan hairstyle with all the AV cords snaking their way to rear of the case. He much preferred to do the editing through analog tapes and the old way of slicing footage by paw, but he couldn't afford the space right now. Instead he found himself forced to move all of his studio, which normally spanned the entire upper level of his old house, to the cramped, poorly lit study of Maurice's house. He was out of time and over budget, and he knew that this haphazard rush to finish this project would reflect in the quality of the final edit of the documentary. He had little choice.

While attempting to overlay orchestral music in his latest cut scene, he ran out of disk cache, and his computer crashed, corrupting several hours of tedious, hard to replicate work. He slammed his furry fists into the keyboard and left to get some fresh air outside, his nice suit now wrinkled in several places. Although the cameras were idle at the moment, their red LED lights were on, and the umbrella lighting cast a soft, evenly distributed glow around the room.

After a few minutes, Grylor crept out of his mother's old bedroom, dressed from head to toe in her bright red silk prom dress from the early 1980's. The cut of the material was conservative for its time, and emphasized sophisticated, timeless class over trendy period flash. His lips were expertly done up with his mother's favorite red lipstick, and his now red painted claws were well manicured. His hind feet strode across the hallway with confidence despite the red high heels he wore, as if he had been practicing in secret.

He closed the study door behind him and quickly went to the four cameras, knowing his father would be back soon. He couldn't bear this curiosity any longer, he just had to know what he looked liked in full feminine attire. He knew that he looked good in the vanity mirror, but his beauty seemed so ... one dimensional. The camera setup his father had incidentally created was perfect to get a full view of his new sexy look, and at multiple simultaneous angles to boot!

He flicked on the TV and the AV box on top, before hitting a few buttons on the cameras that he thought would begin broadcasting straight to the TV, and didn't realize he was recording himself live on tape. Grylor glanced at the TV screen, split into four separate frames, and smiled. He swiveled his narrow hips left and right, watching the material of the classy dress glide gracefully over the gentle features of his slight lupine form. He sank back into the armchair, striking several suggestive posses before giggling.

His jade eyes stared directly into the camera front and center, and he leaned back, before spreading his legs and pulling up the hem of the dress, inch by inch. As Grylor teased himself, he was so absorbed in the lewd act he didn't hear the footfalls of his father approach the closed door, then open it without warning. Grylor had just exposed the small bulge in his black lace panties as his father shouted out in shock and anger.

"Grylor Stillwater! Just what in the hell do you think your ... my footage!" Mycaelis shot over to the cameras and grabbed his head fur. "Oh Gods! It's all ruined!" Grylor clutched his paw in his muzzle, and for the first time in his life, was actually scared that his father was going to punish him. Mycaelis spun around, his green eyes now lit with a crazed fervor.

"You little whore! You just destroyed what little hope remained for keeping this family together!" He snatched Grylor's wrists, and the adolescent wolf whimpered, struggled against the overwhelming strength of the adult wolf. They wrestled for a few moments before Mycaelis grabbed Grylor around his midsection, pulling him out of the armchair, and taking his place. Mycaelis growled, tried to get the young wolf to heel, obey, but Grylor continued to whine, attempting to claw his way out of his predicament.

"Why can't you be more strict with him?"

This endless struggle, the stress of losing Grylor's mother, his livelihood, and now perhaps his only son, all forced Mycaelis past his breaking point. He threw the disobedient pup over his left knee and lifted up his skirt, drawing the flat of his right paw back.

"Why you little ...!!!"

_ Crack _

Grylor cried out in shock more than actual pain. Nonetheless, tears spilled down his cheeks, leaving damp trails on the tan fur there.

_ Crack _ _ Crack _

Grylor screamed out, now bawling; his jade eyes wide, muzzle open. His claws gripped the arm of the chair hard; the flesh of the knuckles white under the fur there. The pads of Mycaelis' paw stung, the flesh under them now tingling. He continued dealing out Grylor's just deserved punishment regardless.

_ Crack _ _ Crack _ _ Crack _

Grylor suddenly moaned out.

Mycaelis' paw froze in mid-strike, and he blinked. He listened to Grylor and himself pant a bit, both now short of breath. He tentatively ran his paw down to rub Grylor's sore, sensitive tush, the red flesh under the fur was now warm to the touch. Grylor's jade eyes closed, and he moaned again, the sudden caress of his father's large paw on his raw bottom caused a surge of ... pleasure ... to course through him. He opened his glazed eyes, and smiled through his heavy panting.

This is what he deserved. This is what he needed. He didn't want to admit it to his father, but he was the one who caused his mother to lose control of her sedan that horrible night. He was the one who refused to wear his seat belt, and she had taken her eyes off the road momentarily to try to buckle him in. The next think he knew, the car was upside down, and she wouldn't respond to his insistent shakes. He would never forgive himself for the death of his mother.

He would change. He would become become like the willow, bending to the most gentle breeze. He would do it for his father, himself, and most importantly, for the memory of his mother.

Mycaelis watched his son's quizzical reactions to this corporal punishment with puzzlement, and curiosity. He rubbed his son's ass through the black lace panties, the feeling of them gliding over Grylor's furry bottom ... arousing. He gripped the base of his son's tail, and Grylor groaned out as he ran a paw pad underneath it, then down between the cleft of his swollen ass cheeks, just under the panties.

This is what Grylor deserved. A confident, disciplining paw. A paw that would not spare Grylor the rod, and spoil him. He didn't want to admit it to his son, but he was the one who caused his mother to lose control of her sedan that horrible night. He was the one who refused to correct his son after Grylor ran amok that weekend, and thus called his mother to come take him home, sparing him the need to discipline his own child. She never had a chance to see that patch of black ice on the road that frigid September night. The next think he knew, the county sheriff's deputy had called, breaking the horrible, unbearable news to him. He would never forgive himself for the death of Grylor's mother.

He would change. He would become become like iron, unbendable under the greatest of pressure. He would do it for his son, himself, and most importantly, for the memory of Grylor's mother.

Without realizing it, Mycaelis found his claw had moved aside the back of the black lace panties, and the tip was now teasing Grylor's pink, sensitive pucker. Grylor squirmed, cried out in arousal as Mycaelis felt something small and hard jut into his crotch. The memory of that infamous night, the scent, caused his heart to thunder in his chest, his pulse now racing. His own member hardened, and he felt the two press into each other through the thin material of their elegant attire. Father soon found himself panting in lust alongside son, his own boxers soaked with pre.

The older lupine slid his paw tip into the young wolf's virgin entrance, which clenched around it, gripping his claw like a vice. Grylor shuddered, begged, panted out for more. The father relented, and he slid his furry digit up to the first knuckle, the rough, rigged paw tip running small, forceful circles against his son's prostrate. Grylor's entire body spasmed, and he cried out as he climaxed unexpectedly, his muzzle, jade eyes wide. Mycaelis felt the organ under his paw tip twitch, and felt Grylor's small adolescent cock jerk as it shot its load into his mother's panties.

Grylor jerked about, his climax shooting throughout his young, virgin body. His frame shuddered, twitched for a few more moments before letting out a low moan of deep seated satisfaction. Mycaelis' removed his paw from his son's ass and smoothed out the bristled back fur of the panting lupine. Grylor's nose twitched suddenly, catching a strange, unfamiliar, yet enticing, musky scent in close proximity, and he sat up. His father's light green eyes widened in surprise as the small, inquisitive nose planted itself in the crotch of his dress slacks. Even though he pushed Grylor's nose away at first, the persistence of the young wolf caused him to shudder with closed eyes, before caving in and allowing his son's curiosity free reign.

Mycaelis gave a short bark as a set of petite paws found their way up his inseam, every ridge of every paw tip felt through the thin fabric. When the paws caressed the large bulge contained in his slacks, Mycaelis almost swooned in the armchair right then and there, this relentance into forbidden taboo almost greater than he could stand. Grylor gasped as he fondled his father's privates through his pants, before reaching for the zipper.

"G .. gry ... lor ... we shouldn ..."

His son paid no head, the recognition of this last act of disobedience far from his thoughts. He wanted, no, needed to get more of this delicious scent of musk; find it at its source. With a snap, Mycaelis' slacks came undone and his massive red erection flopped out into his son's greedy little paws. Mycaelis' entire frame shook as Grylor's paws stroked him, one paw running up and down the entire length from tip to sheath. The other ran underneath to cup each of his warm furry sacs in turn, rolling the huge orbs in his palm. Mycaelis' mind swam, and his eyes sealed shut from pleasure, his heart racing.

Without warning he felt the tiny tip of Grylor's preteen tongue flicker at his slit, lapping up the steady beads of pre that dribbled out of his throbbing wolf cock. Mycaelis' knot fell from his sheath, and Grylor gasped in excitement before running the top of his tongue over this slick, hot, new type of flesh. This proved too much for his father, and as his paws gripped the arms of the chair hard, knuckles white, he felt his long overdue climax erupt from within.

The orbs in Grylor's paw pulsed, and he giggled, before a shot of milky white, hot cum exploded from the engorged shaft of the older wolf. Mycaelis howled out as the first thick rope landed across the tan fur of his son's left ear and cheek. The second managed to splatter across his son's short snout, which incidentally grinned from ear to ear, his jade eyes squinting slightly. Grylor's eyes closed as the deluge eased, and he wrapped his muzzle lips around the throbbing, tapered tip of his father's wolf cock, suckling off the tasty cream.

For a few minutes all Mycaelis could do was tremble as he came down from his intense orgasm. Then with a groan of satisfaction he pulled Grylor into a sitting position in his lap, bear hugging him. Grylor wrapped his arms around his father's neck and kissed him, the way it felt the most natural to. This time his father kissed back without hesitation. After a few moments, Grylor drew back, resting his muzzle in the crook of Mycaelis' neck.

"I love you, Daddy ..."

"I love you too, Son."

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Are you going to be a good little puppy for Daddy from now on?"

"Yes Daddy ..."

"That's a good boy ..."

* * * * *

A few days later Mycaelis sat at the computer, pouring over the over written footage taken from the camcorders in an attempt to recover anything worth salvaging for the now overdue historical documentary. After a while, he started to edit the footage of Grylor's little foray into exhibitionism, and his resulting punishment. He clipped off the incestuous bit at the very end, but instead of tossing the tapes and deleting the resulting file, decided at the last moment to keep it.

His claws drummed on the keyboard. Just what was he going to do with this footage? It most certainly wasn't considered high art by any stretch of the imagination. It was very unusual footage indeed. All quite impromptu, really. Sure, there was footage out there of this kind, but it was most likely staged with actors and scripts. Discriminating eyes could pick them out from unrehearsed pieces. Mycaelis leaned back in his computer chair and he thought about if for a few minutes, his muzzle chin resting on his furled paw in deep thought.

Samuel. The lynx doctor. He suddenly sat up in his chair and fired up his modem. Within moments Mosaic had pulled up his email address and Mycaelis wrote a very carefully worded email to his old lover. He double checked it, triple checked it, making sure the innuendo was well phrased, yet saying nothing in plain words, before sending the email off. He leaned back into his chair again, head back. Perhaps the footage was of La Gioconda quality after all, at least among certain circles.

Later on that day Samuel sent back a carefully worded reply, that also said nothing at all. Mycaelis smiled, and began work on his latest, most unusual project, splicing and dubbing the footage with a practiced, artistic paw. He sent the finished tape in the mail the next day, and a few days later, an envelope with a fake return address came in the mail. The plain, discreet envelope contained a money order for five hundred dollars.

Samuel, just as Mycaelis correctly deduced, had a kink for child discipline. Whenever Grylor had acted out on the weekends, the doctor was quick to always offer that he take over punishment of his son, if Mycaelis felt too squeamish for it himself. He tapped the money order in his left paw over and over again in deep thought. A paltry five minutes of footage had earned him more than some entire documentaries that he had made. He thought about the last lines of the doctors reply.

The 'documentary' you sent me was outstanding, however it seemed to end ubruptly. Let me know if you have ex_tra foo_tage along the same lines. Oh by the way, just how has the fam_ily busi_ness been treating you? The way you ed_it some of your stuff should be outl_awed.

He wouldn't have suspected the doctor for that type of kink, but then again, he supposed it wasn't something you even confided with even close lovers. He wonder how much Samuel would pay for ...

He slammed his left paw down into the desk in disgust. What in the hell was he thinking? This was his own son! He futzed around, upset, and got up to pace, being careful not to trip over all the AV cords still lying around on the floor of the study. The deadline was only a few weeks away, and there was no way his historical documentary could even hope of being finished by the deadline. He shook his head. And the two thousand dollars for exclusive rights for one documentary wasn't exactly a live hood to live on for several months of work.

He stopped by the door, looking down the hallway to Grylor's room, who was busy trying on some leather skirts he found at the local shopping mall. No one else would accept Grylor for who he was, not the way his own flesh and blood did. It would destroy each of them if they were forced apart, their little family broken up. He couldn't let that happen, not if he truly loved Grylor the way he did. He went to the computer and pulled up the secret footage, beginning to edit it.

He would do anything for his son.

Grylor, now dressed in a black leather skirt and a green halter, entered the room without warning and sat down in his lap, legs dangling off to the side. The younger wolf placed his arms around Mycaelis' neck and turned to look at the screen, curious to know what his father was doing on the computer. Mycaelis gave a coy grin as he felt Grylor harden under the leather skirt in response to what he saw on screen.

Anything.

~ Fin Part I ~

Comments, Questions, Smart Remarks? Eldyran @ Yahoo.com. The next two installments of 'Family Business' will come at a much slower pace than they did in 'Dinner Date, as I'm now apart of the Second Life Furry community. If your around Furnation or the Fur Dungeon, my avatar name is Eldyran Maladay. He's hard to miss, as he's the only coyote running around with a hard hat on.