Chapter 1

19 Mourn Street, Fait

9th of September 2015, 5:49 AM

---

'You're straight, Lyall' The rabbit told himself with a cool-headed voice that wasn't his own.

'Straight. You're a straight, male rabbit.'

His chest rose and fell rapidly, so fast that it looked that he was having a panic attack.

It, the haunting voice, stressed 'S-T-R-A-I-G-H-T' again and again; each pronunciation of the word hammered thoughts into his head.

Boobs, vaginas, pencil skirts, panties and bras... anything that Lyall associated with femininity.

He listed every word he could think of for boobs: 'Breasts, bosoms, milk jugs, lady balloons, titties, tiddys, knockers, cub feeders, assets, boobies, baps, bazongas, bazookas, breasticles, testicles... Much to Lyall's disgust, the image of that wolf's furry orbs penetrated his mind, smashing every straight thought he had temporarily. He managed to force the image away, freeing his mind of any nauseous thoughts.

The commanding voice, like a recording playing back, repeated:

'You're straight, Lyall.' twice before defining it. 'Straight, attracted to the opposite sex.'

It spelled it out again and this time the letters sunk into Lyall's mind like ice picks.

Finding the energy, Lyall hauled himself out of bed. A part of wanted to make sure if the voice was telling the truth; if he was straight, he wouldn't have came over the dream, right? Checking the sheets revealed no stains, no wet patches, no nothing. Perfect. Breathing a long sigh of relief, Lyall turned away.

His room was surprisingly immaculate, his study books were on his desk lined up, his reading books were alphabetically ordered on their shelves; although Lyall could have sworn that he'd never even ordered them! Hell, he couldn't remember getting them! Lyall stopped, his bookshelf. He got a sense of confusion mixed with nostalgia, as if he should remember something. Checking his bookshelf, he discovered nothing out of place, not even a book edge or a spec of dust. As he scanned the shelves, his head throbbed as if it had been hit with a mallet. No, it wasn't his head. It was his mind.

His mind was throbbing.

Backing away, Lyall flopped on his bed and groaned in pain, clutching his head. This had started when his family had moved back to Fait after five years. Constant, violent migraines that came with no explanation that were seemingly random. They came once every day, violated him for half an hour then left.

Violated.

Groaning louder, he writhed about in his bed as his dream came to him.

Gay rape, a cheetah, a wolf and a blowjob all flashed through his head. The cheetah held onto him from behind, arms coiled around the black rabbit's form like a snake whilst the wolf pushed forwards with his... penis; all the other words were too dirty. Everything sexual seemed too wrong to Lyall, which was a disappointment to everyfur around him.

His parents wanted cubs by the time Lyall was twenty one, yet the rabbit wanted to be alone. He was only fifteen, his parents expecting him to be so sexual was creepy in his opinion.

His friends back in his old city were sleeping with others all the time (narrowly avoiding knocking up their mates), the furs in his new school were probably doing too.

His friends told him that his virginity would define him before long, that he'd be disappointed or that he'd be too sensitive and blow before he could even half-satisfy his mate. Lyall didn't care much; what mattered was that his parents were happy with him. Yes, they wanted him to find a mate, but if he even so much as looked at her chest before he was eighteen he'd be in trouble. Appeasing his parents was harder than it sounded, there were so many rules and demands to keep up with things were becoming convoluted. Some rules contradicted others, some rules weren't always active...

Now the labyrinth of rules was making his head throb. What he wouldn't do to just switch off his mind sometimes!

The black rabbit clambered out of his bed and looked into his mirror. His eyes fell on the line of tape he had attached to his mirror, he pressed up against it and he saw that he still hadn't grown one bit. He was still that four foot nine bunny kid who, despite his growth not being stunted, was never going to get above five foot. Grumbling, Lyall backed away and that was when it caught his eye.

A wet patch, smeared over his black night shorts. The crotch, the band, the legs, it was everywhere. Now that Lyall had noticed, he could feel it. It was sticky, cloying and disgusting, the scent had these very same attributes as it bunged up his nose and made him gag. It was a strong scent, musky, male and virile. It smelt nothing like the rabbit, so he was curious as to where it came from. He touched a patch, still wet, but only moisture came away.

Lyall thought it through, there would be a logical explanation somewhere.

Had he pissed himself? Then again that wouldn't explain the new stench. Was there something wrong with his piss and had he pissed himself? That would probably be the reason.

Shivering in revulsion with a little bit of shame mixed in, Lyall slid them off and stared at his crotch fur hoping that it hadn't taken a new, more yellow-ish colour. To his horror, it had. Much more to his horror, it was a pearly white. Lyall immediately knew what it was.

'Oh God I enjoyed it...' Lyall panted. 'I enjoyed having that fucking cheetah do those things to me! And that wolf-"

Lyall cut his thoughts off, he couldn't think about it. That would only make it worse, make it bother him more.

Shaking his head seemed to dispel the thoughts, as if it were knocking them to the back of his mind or to the edges. The rabbit, picking up his night shorts, stuffed them under the pillow and dashed to the bathroom.

The bathroom was across the landing to him, Paloma (his sister) and his parent's rooms being between him and safety. It was a risk, running stark naked across the carpet, but they'd moved only yesterday, so everyfur should be exhausted. Lyall wasn't though. It was as if being in a new home and a new place gave him energy. Despite having only been in the city for a few hours, Lyall could tell that he was going to love this place.

Slipping into the bathroom, Lyall locked the door. He moved the stopper in front of it, just to be safe.

Lyall inspected his fur more closely as he got ready for the day. There was tons of the stuff, so much so that Lyall almost thought that some of it belonged to the wolf. Then he smelt it again, it was definitely his. The wolf's musk, his seed it had smelt (and tasted)... powerful. Compared to the memory, or the dream really, Lyall's was pathetic. It was a slight tingle to his nose where as the wolf's had been a blaze, his own was a tickle and the wolf's was a punch. The cheetah's was weak too, but his was a good weak. It was an aroma more than a musk and strangely Lyall could remember the cheetah's much better, as if it was real. Lyall dismissed the thought. There were plenty of explanations as to why the feline's musk smelt so real, everything in dreams had already been seen or smelt right? So Lyall must have smelt it on a guy, perhaps in the changing room at school or a church boy he'd stood next in choir sweating under the stage lights. Lyall relaxed, he'd never even known a cheetah before!

Chuckling at his own stupid thoughts, Lyall turned on the shower and put himself beneath the water. Letting it pour over him, Lyall slid a forepaw down his chest and into his nethers to wash away the dream.

It was only a dream after all...

Right?

---

Meanwhile...

He tipped his head back and groaned as he finished across the wall of the shower. Off white, glue like liquid stained a different shade of white tiles, gradually dripping down onto the shower floor.

Panting as his cock retreated into his sheath, the boy leaned just next to his strands of jizz and watched them trickle away along with four weeks of orgasm denial. Rex hadn't been joking when he'd promised that edging was a god send. Max had half expected it to be another of the devilish wolf's pranks and that he'd wake up to be the ten stone testicle fox. His balls had felt a little heavier than normal after the first three days, but the euphoria he felt now was worth it. And the cum shot! God it went high! Up in an arc, then against the wall. Max reckoned he could get it in his mouth if he tried hard enough. Maybe he'd go for five weeks next time.

Aiming the shower wand at the remains, Max washed the evidence down the drain and let his mind wander. What did the stuff taste like? How did it feel? He'd smelt it, as it cloyed to the rim of the toilet or the floor, yet he'd never bothered touching it for fear that it would stain his fingers. Max had gotten that from Rex, yet despite all the other lies that wolf had told the fox believed him completely. When he'd worked up the courage to just reach out and taste just a little bit, the last drops were off down the drain.

'No matter' The fox thought to himself, for there was always next time.

Only an hour later, a groomed Max set out for school. The first day of Year 11, a time of stress, important decisions and what was supposed to be your first time having sex. Anyfur Max could name had broken that rule. Though, he'd yet to do it with another guy. There were some furs he'd considered: Rain Tirell; a strapping orca who was the oldest in the year, Lukas Carrington; the only other openly bisexual furson in the year who was apparently gifted with his mouth and tongue, Leo Lenivo; a tiny, geeky bat whom was assumed to like being on the receiving end on things and finally Quinn Kelly, his best friend.

Quinn was attractive to say the least and happened to be the first furson Max had even considered having sex with. Before Max even knew the word, he'd assumed he was gay. Females just didn't do it for him, but the fox knew it was good to at least keep up a bit of an appearance.

The black wolf wasn't bothered at all when Max confessed, he laughed and admitted himself that at a time he'd wanted to be more than friends, but complicated matters made that impossible now. Still, Max could dream.

More than twice he'd imagined that tundra wolf kissing him, being both around the 5'8 range there was no raising or lowering needed and they could just lean in and lock lips. The wolf's cropped hair made him as handsome as anyfur could get and the cock he'd whipped out to compare to the fox's... the wolf was huge for a teenager and even an adult! If what was making the complications happened to be a lover, they were in for a treat.

Chuckling, Max pushed aside the dirty thoughts and squeezed his sheath to tell his dick to calm it down; the last thing he wanted was a tent on his first day. That and he didn't want to show up to the career adviser's office with a hard-on, though as the fox began to fantasize about that man and the other sexy studs he had for teachers, the possibility got further and further away...

---

"So you have a career goal?" The brown bear, Max's career guidance counselor, asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Mr. Murphy. I want to be a sports coach or a psychologist." The fox answered.

Max was sat on the other side of the bear's desk, legs pressed close together and forepaws in his lap looking as docile as a trained, senior dog.

"Those are two very different jobs..." Mr. Murphy stroked his chin and frowned. "But that's not what we're here for today. I didn't call you in to tell you that your options are varied."

Mr. Murphy shuffled through the folders, papers and notes on his desk until he found one with the sticky note: Max Vaughn. Ripping the note off and dumping it, the bear opened the report up to the only page.

"You've got less than a year to decide what you're doing in Year Thirteen, have yet to decide on options, cause no problems, but seem to be getting rebuked a lot about what you say when you don't stop to think..."

"That's not my fault!" Max cried out, snapping forwards and barely avoiding smashing his curled up fist on the wood. "And how is this relevant!?"

"What I'm trying to say is, jobs... let's say revolving around the idea of teaching and instructing are really only given to furs with clean rap sheets."

"I've never committed a crime before." Max quipped, baring sharp teeth slightly.

"I know. I have that written down." The bear peered over his glasses. "You're also on the most likely to offend list too."

"That's bullshit!"

Max kicked his paw against the desk, causing it to shake and knock a few things off of the table.

"Vaughn." Murphy's calm voice spoke.

The fox took a deep breathe.

"Sorry, Mr. Murphy."

"All I'm saying is, you need to get off that list. Raise your grades, don't even think about touching anything you shouldn't be, get yourself some fur to anchor you down and for goodness sake stop hanging around Rex Kelly." The bear spat his name. "You know he's bad news."

"How is he?" Max scowled. "He's never-"

Mr. Murphy cut the fox off as he furiously shifted through papers. Finding one, he read from it:

"One furson impregnated whilst both parties were drunk and possibly high, dozens of accounts of underage drinking, once caught in possession of Class A drugs, has cheated on tests multiple times, lowest grades in the year, his attendance levels are so low they're unprecedented and finally he can't go three days without getting into a fist fight. He's lucky he's not been expelled."

"Half are those aren't that bad." Was all Max could answer with.

The bear didn't even bother to start speaking about how wrong Max was.

"Max, will you at least do your best to ignore him classes? Your teachers and parents-"

"Parent." The fox said solemnly. "Singular."

"Parent, then... They all want you to do well, they see potential in you."

"The P.E teacher only likes me because I'm better than average and my psychology teacher really only looks at me as an example of how cubhood severely affects the mind during the teenage years."

"Both are why you have potential. My... partner." The bear swallowed for a moment then resumed speaking. "They're a psychologist, they say that no fur in the business is as good as some fur who's had first paw experience with mental illness. You could help hundreds of furs!"

"I said I don't know what I want to do yet. Can I leave yet? And, why are you telling me all this? Why isn't my form tutor or the head of the year doing this?"

"Aside from them both being lay abouts?"

That earned a snicker from the fox.

"I'm the one giving you this speech because the final point is career advice. Points even."

Mr. Murphy took a deep breathe and picked up a sticky note. As he spoke, he wrote.

"Raise your grades, to at least As in everything. Don't get distracted in lessons. Choose what you want to do in life and pick relevant options. I want you back here before Christmas with that answer and also back here in period one."

"Why?" Max asked as he was handed the sticky note.

Scrunching it up, Max shoved it in his pocket and almost instantly forgot about it.

"We noticed you're falling behind in psychology and history, why doesn't matter. You're getting a tutor to shove you up to an A in both of those subjects."

"And what about P.E and Geography?"

"P.E your practical looks like it'll get you an A regardless. In Geography, you're more than smart enough to get that grade. You can go now."

Mr. Murphy watched as the fox got out of his seat silently, picked his bag up from between his paws and walked to the door.

"Mr. Murphy?" He asked, looking over his shoulder. "Is it alright if I hang around with Quinn Kelly?"

A look of surprise almost briefly flashed over the bear's visage.

"Quinn?" He questioned in a way that one might when a old friend is mentioned. "Of course. He's no trouble at all. Run along now, I've got more than enough paperwork without having to answer as to why you've been in my office for half an hour before school."

"Sure thing Murphy."

Max closed the door behind him and hummed his way down the corridors to C1, his tutor room. Just outside was a black wolf, whom Max assumed was Quinn.

"Quinn!" He called, waving as the canine turned around and grinned.

The sharp, white teeth he exposed were menacing and the way they reflected the light caught the attentions of a few furs around him.

"Ah. Max. How's it going?" The wolf spoke.

Something about his voice sounded... off. Max dismissed it as a cold.

"Fine. Fine. I just had a chat with Mr. Murphy, first thing he said was to stop talking to your brother. Yet, you're fine."

A snort from the wolf:

"Little rude! Doesn't matter though, you're not going to listen? Are you?"

"Ehh... I don't know." The fox shrugged.

A scowl.

"Dude. He's my brother, you're not really going to let an old asshole tear you two apart are you? You've been friends for years!"

"Murphy wouldn't say it if it wasn't serious! Did you know he got some fur pregnant?" Max sounded flabbergasted, as if he hadn't already heard about that.

"That's just a rumour. You know that. What else did he say?"

"Stuff about drugs, how he always fights-"

"You fight with him half the time! Why isn't Murphy on your ass about that?" They snarled. "Or is he up it instead?"

Max caught the little innuendo faster than usual, mostly because Rex had been suggesting stuff like that since he found out about what gay and bisexual meant.

"Shut it, Quinn. You're starting to sound like, Rex."

"What's got on your nerves all of a sudden? Did I get it right?" The wolf smirked, the smug bastard.

Putting on an overly sincere voice, the wolf pouted and leaned in a little:

"If it's rape, you can always talk to us. Just tell an adult." He mocked.

The fox took a swing, letting out a primal roar. It was hardly the most precise or refined, but without a doubt it was a strong one. He connected with the side of the wolf's muzzle, he would have hit him square in the temple had the wolf not stepped out of the way.

They staggered back:

"Fucking animal!" The wolf laughed. "Go on, take another one!"

Panting, Max was about to raise his fist again when he saw blood trickling from the side of the wolf's muzzle. Something in his head told him this wasn't right, punching his best friend, getting angry, it would only get worse.

"Walk away. Keep saying your mantra. Steady breathing. Say it slowly." His psychologist's voice echoed in his head.

The fox stormed away, walking in times with his ragged, rapid breathes.

"Follow the rabbit wherever it goes, follow the rabbit as it passes the rose. Follow the rabbit wherever it goes, follow the rabbit that holds a rose..."

He didn't know where he was going, repeating the mantra, regulating his breath and trying not to scream at every fur who looked at him funnily was more important.

"Follow the rabbit wherever it goes, follow the rabbit that..."

The little rhyming mantra was over by the time Max found himself an empty bathroom. He locked himself in a cubicle, leaned against the wall and rested his forehead against it as he controlled his breathe.

In... Hold for three... out... Hold for three... In... Hold for three...

Time passed quickly in Max's space, the bell snapped him out of his thinking, but a few repeats of the mantra slipped him back into it. He wasn't calm enough yet to go to first period, not calm enough at all.

"Max?" A voice called out.

"Fuck off, Quinn!" The fox roared, punching his cubicle.

"Do you ever look at my eyes?" The wolf laughed as if he had no recollection of everything he'd just said.

"Excuse me?"

"My eyes are blue. Rex's are red. He can mimic my personality and my speech, but no fur can change the colour of their eyes."

This sounded like something taken out of a spy novel, Max only thought of that because he could remember a whole pile of those books just sitting in his room. They were his Dad's.

"So it wasn't you?"

"No. I'd never say those things." Quinn scoffed. "You're my best friend, more than that even."

The real Quinn and Max fell silent for a moment. It was broken by the sound of the cubicle unlocking.

A shaking Max stepped out who crossed his arms and stayed still for a moment before Quinn approached and wrapped his arms around his vulpine friend.

"You didn't break his muzzle, you're not in trouble." The wolf said calmly.

"Not in trouble until he gets Murphy in trouble." Max muttered.

"I said you were sensitive about the topic of rape because your aunt was raped as a cub. Problem solved."

"You shouldn't make up lies like that."

"Better than him making a rumour, making you furious enough to lash out and get expelled and getting Murphy fired!"

Again, they stopped talking, but instead stood in front of the mirror and shot glances at each other.

"I... err... had a dream about us last night." Max spoke.

"What happened in it?" An intrigued Quinn questioned.

"I don't want to talk about. Nothing... violent happened, but still."

The black wolf picked up on his friend's awkward shuffling and when the fox pulled his shirt down over his crotch, Quinn took a guess.

"If err... what stops the two of us being more than friends says it's alright, I can make that real." The wolf took his friend's forepaw and squeezed. "What happened?"

"Shit..." Max cussed under his breathe. "Err... I don't want to tell you. It's weird."

"Max, we've been friends for years, shared a bed, jerked off together..." The wolf chuckled. "I'm cool with everything you could say."

"I dreamed about, well... getting fucked by you."

"So? That's normal. I'm the guy you're closest too, you're exploring your sexuality... It'll stop soon enough or when you find some fur better than me."

"Don't say that I'm confused."

"You're not confused. I was attracted to you because I knew you the best, then I saw it as nothing more than good friendship and learned the difference between sexual attraction to other guys and well... friendship." Quinn shrugged. "It happens to everyfur."

"Whatever..." Max huffed, he was blushing slightly. "Let's err... not talk about this."

Quinn thought about making a joke about erections, but instead smiled and agreed.

"Come on, you need to go to Murphy's office and I need to go to history. Talk to you in PE?"

"Sure."

Max hugged his best friend again before walking out of the bathroom as fast as he could.

A part of him said it was because he needed to go to Mr. Murphy's office and the rest knew that it was because he was embarrassed. Very embarrassed.

---

An hour earlier...

"Quinn, Rex! Get up now, you're late!" Their mother bellowed from downstairs, it was followed by the sound of the front door slamming shut; their mother was already off to work.

Groggily, Quinn hauled himself out of bed and stumbled out onto the landing.

The layout of his house was fairly simple, two floors with seven rooms: kitchen, living room, two bathrooms, master bedroom and two other bedrooms. At a time, Quinn had shared a bedroom with his brother, but as they grew apart and wanted more privacy, the old study had been converted into Quinn's room. It was small, somewhat dusty and he always managed to find some relic from the room's history, but it was cosy and private.

The only disadvantage Quinn found was that whenever he needed to race his brother for a shower, Rex would always get there first.

The other black wolf was standing outside the locked bathroom door with a towel around his waist.

"Fuck off, I'm going next." Rex snarled. "I got here first."

"Someone's pissy." Quinn snorted. "Move, I have things to do. You don't."

"School." Rex answered.

"You never even turn up! You're just going to get drunk in an alley somewhere. I'm going first." Quinn argued.

Had he not been naked under the towel, the red eyed wolf would have sprung into a fight with one simple rule: first one to cry Uncle doesn't get the first shower.

"I'll be out in a minute! Both of you stop fighting!" Their father shouted from inside the bathroom.

The sound of electric clippers came from behind the door. Over it, Quinn could just about hear his phone.

"Fine. Go for a shower first." The wolf surrendered; his phone was more important.

He closed the door to his room and, now that he was out of sight, allowed his face to light up with glee. Grinning, he swiped his from the desk and answered it.

"A patient from Fait Cub's Mental Hospital is attempting to contact you..." A woman on the other end of the line spoke before bursting out into laughter. "Is it alright if Leib talks to you now?" She asked, dropping the monotone, fake voice.

"About time!" Quinn choked back a tear or two.

The line was silent for a minute. Then, a boy's voice spoke:

"Quinn?"

"Yeah. It's me, you didn't get the number wrong."

A melancholy smile came to his face, it was difficult to describe how he felt hearing Leib's voice after a month.

"I was starting to worry that Devon or Amanda had swallowed you up."

"Yeah... Devon stabbed my stuffed bear!" It sounded as if the cheetah were pouting.

"Oh no!" Quinn exaggerated, then tried not to laugh. "Is it completely ruined?"

"No it was just a fork, but a bit of the stuffing is sticking out of his paw."

"Devon's or the bear's?"

"The bear's, twit." Leib giggled. "They won't let me fix him back up."

"You'd need a needle and to be honest, I wouldn't trust you with one either. You'd stab yourself on accident too many times."

"No, Amanda said she'd fix it! But could you bring a needle and thread with you the next time you visit? Oh! And a pack of cards and maybe some sweets."

"Anything you want." Quinn caught himself sniffling a bit. "Do the others want me to bring something?"

"We all want to see you, but they don't really want anything at the moment. Apart from Devon who still wants sex."

"I don't blame him, I'm pretty sexy. Just tell him all of you will have to wait until you're out and I promise you on the first night we'll do anything you want."

"Yay!" Leib exclaimed. "When are you next visiting?"

"Sometime later into the month." Quinn sighed. "I need to pick up on work and school work and I know I normally visit on Friday's but it's my first day back to school."

"Oh. Good luck with that!" Leib didn't sound too happy.

"Sorry baby. Why don't we talk about you now? How's Marco?"

Leib fell silent for a moment, only his breathing could be heard.

"Leib?" Quinn called.

"Yes?"

"How's Marco?" He asked again.

"We're not talking to him." A little growl escaped the cheetah's throat.

For fear that he'd be shunned too, Quinn didn't tell the cheetah that they were over reacting.

"But I kinda miss him." Leib admitted. "He solved problems and stuff and... well. The other patients kinda miss him too."

"You'll talk to him when you're ready. Why not wait until Devon says it's okay?"

"Okay. We're starting a diary by the way..."

There he went again, off onto another topic. Quinn chuckled to himself, sometimes he wondered if Leib would ever run out of things to say.

"... so that's why we're writing down everything we dream about and stuff and what's bothering us and what we want and then we all work together to fix stuff."

"That's a great idea. Was it yours?"

"Yep! Are you proud of me?"

"Of course I am. I always am."

Quinn heard his brother stepping out of the shower, it was time to go. Had they really been talking for that long?

"Hey, Leib? I need to go for my shower now."

The cheetah upon hearing the word 'go' burst out into tears, then the line cut off.

Quinn sighed, it always seemed to end like that. Quinn would need to be somewhere and Leib would slam the phone down; Amanda did the same and Devon would call him a traitor. Though, he knew the cheetah would expect a call by lunch time and would be happy to get it.

Getting out of bed, Quinn took a fresh pair of underwear and a towel with him as he went for his morning shower, half hoping that such a short conversation hadn't bothered his boyfriend too much.

---

Thanks For Reading!

As always please tell me if you spot any mistakes! ^_^

Story, characters and locations © Kalebthecat