The Coach - Sporting Behaviour

SABLE Briefing

>Powering on. Initiating system start-up.

>SABLE online. Please login.

>Login confirmed.

>Welcome back, MCA-WT69.

>Your target for this assignment will be Dominic Zhang. Target resides within ADBG-6BSLM_R56. As per usual parameters, you are to encourage and develop Mr. Zhang as he has been identified as a Person of Interest (PoI) and integration into the Conglomerate has been deemed to be beneficial. Reality-bending and intelligence alterations are to be kept to a minimum to avoid potential dimensional collapse or paradoxical conflicts. Intellect should be maintained however behavioural modifications are encouraged. Predictive analysis has determined that you will encounter the below obstacles and scenarios in this mission:

· Muscle Growth

· Muscle Worship

· Penile Growth

· Testicular Growth

· Transformation

· Male on Male homosexual interactions

· Mind Control

· Hypnosis

· Multiple Limbs

· Body Hair

· Tentacles

· Incest

>Prepare appropriately.

>As a final note, you are being deployed specifically to transform Mr. Zhang and set his foundation for Conglomerate recruitment whilst maintaining reality and timeline stability. Due to popular demand, you are to convert the subjection into the genus Macropus rufus

>Warning: engagement and subsequent activities should only applied to individuals who are aged 18 or 21 or above based on their origins and local laws. Breach of terms will not leave the Nexus Conglomerate or the author liable to legal ramifications of any corruptive influences the SABLE Interface may cause and possible disciplinary action or termination.

Director's Notes: "I'm going to give you advance warning here, Garret, Zhang is known for being very 'anti-authority' and prone to violence which may cause some problems. This'll be a good test on how you deal with someone who is less willing to cooperate."

>Briefing end.

*******

Detention.

Seriously. Fuck detention.

Those were the thoughts that was going through Dominic Zhang's mind as he sat in Room 147 of Avenue Heights High School. One glance outside and instantly wished that he was out there in the snow away from this shithole of a school and away from the other 'troublemakers' that sat in the small, cramped, piss-smelling room with him. Avenue Heights wasn't the best of schools in the northern part of California. It was an old, rundown and poorly funded nest for dropouts and drug pushers. At least that's what some of the conservative town council members would say whenever someone suggested they bulldoze the place for yet another high rise building. Although they weren't entirely wrong, the school did have a reputation of churning out delinquents and having the highest drop-out rating in the city of Blue Plateau.

The 5'4'' young man with the pale gold skin looked out into the distance and sighed loudly not at all caring that detention was meant to be a 'silent' punishment. The substitute teacher who was supposed to be watching them - a fat, old, grey-haired coot with thick glasses - was too busy watching YouTube clips on his phone to really notice. There was only one another guy in detention with him and he was the reason he was in this stinking room in the first place.

Colin-fucking-Meade.

Just the thought of the rich, preppy, goody-goody made his blood boil. Even in detention, Meade sat way up at the front of the room dressed in the red and silver letterman jacket of a varsity team. He was in the soccer, football and basketball teams but that wasn't really saying much. Avenue Heights didn't have a lot of students; let alone students that really bothered with any sports. Those that made the 'varsity teams' were those that actual put in the effort - no matter how fruitless it was - into their careers.

He was always so goddam cheerful and happy, talking about everyone making it in the big leagues and trying to keep everyone's spirits up. Although the cruel reality was that their school wasn't on a single major league team's radar. In Colin's case he might have a chance once he left for college, but for everyone else an Avenue Heights education would at best get you a job in food service, at most a managerial role.

The guy sickened Dominic.

As the clock above their 'warden' kept ticking away Dominic couldn't help but tap his fingers on the desk. There were just thirty minutes left before we could at last get out of this place and back home. Though 'home' was just really the apartment that he shared with his uncle. It was just a glorified place for him to eat, sleep, dump his belongings and get away from. At nineteen years of age, he was legally an adult and could strike out on his own if he wanted but he seriously doubted his workaholic uncle would even notice if he was gone. It benefited him more to mooch off his uncle for a little longer. Though he would graduate this year - after behind held back one year - he would have to find a job. College just wasn't an option for him but he was pretty sure his uncle wouldn't even care or notice if he was still living with him.

The future of Dominic Zhang was pretty blurry.

"Maybe I'll just hang out with Morty..." he muttered softly to himself.

"No talking!" barked the old man at the front.

Of course, now he notices.

Dominic just set his head down on the table trying to get some sleep. It would be a late night, after all.

His nap was interrupted, however, when the creaky old door sprang open. He just grumbled softly and turned his head away from the noise, trying to ignore it.

"Hey," came a deep, masculine voice that held a strange musical edge to it. "You're Randall Klein, right? Yeah. Shaw wants you over in his office like, right now. I'll take care of these kids."

That made Dominic frown and he straightened. Their jailer got up off his fat ass and hurried out the door. In his place was what Dominic could only describe as a wall of muscle. The huge lupine had to be past seven feet tall judging by the fact that he had to duck under the doorframe. He was even wider than said doorframe, having to enter the room one big, rounded shoulder at a time. His heavily muscled torso was barely contained by a tight-fitting, white shirt with the sleeves straining against his enormous biceps. And even though he couldn't see it clearly, every muscle on his body seemed corded, thick and vascular; with his grey fur highlighting every curve and hardened edge all the more. Bright, golden blonde hair topped his head in tall spikes - a fad from a decade ago - with the tips a light gold. Likely from being out in the sun too much. A well-kept chinstrap beard of a darker shade than his hair hugged his strong, square, masculine jaw and the same coloured hairs dusted his forearms and the back of his enormous paws. While his torso converged towards a narrow waist to show off the massive V-shape of his lats, his body widened once more into two, huge thighs followed by bulging calves and equally enormous feet. He was forced to walk with a constant strut just because of how big his legs were. That gave any on-looker a clear view of how each muscle moved along his thighs as his bright red shorts barely covered any flesh. His obscenely enormous bulge seemed to lead the way to wherever he walked and left very little to the imagination.

"What the fuck..." Dominic whispered softly.

"Hey boys," the big wolf rumbled, waving a paw in their direction. "My name is Garret Holt. I'm your new gym teacher and..." He glanced around the room, placing his paws on his hips. "I guess your new detention coordinator for the next twenty minutes or so."

This 'Holt' didn't even bother with the chair and just parked his enormous frame on the table itself. Dominic had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. This was one of those teachers that had seen Dead Poets Society way too many times and was trying to be unusual, casual or to 'reach out to his students' whatever that meant. Judging by his appearance and physique, he was likely new to the world of teaching and had yet to become jaded. Avenue Heights would likely suck that out of him soon enough.

Dominic just rested his head on the table again, hoping that the next twenty minutes would just go by without further interruption.

"So since we're here," Holt said, clapping his huge paws loudly. "Why don't we go around the room and tell everyone else why you're here."

Dominic lifted his head and scowled. "The fuck? Why the hell would we do that?"

Colin snapped him a foul stare before turning back to Garret Holt. "Please forgive Dominic. He's always been like that. And not to question your authority, Mr. Holt, but detention is traditionally a quiet punishment."

Holt grinned and mimed shooting a gun in his direction. "Exactly. In detention, you get thrown in here to stew on your mistakes and not fix them. So instead, we're going to air our grievances, discuss why you're here and hopefully leave this room a little wiser."

"That's bullshit," Dominic said, setting his head back down.

"Okay, then maybe you'll consider this. In this tough-as-nails school where everyone either has a gun or a knife with a badass reputation, talking about feelings in an open forum is way more intimidating and painful than sitting in silence will ever be."

That notion pissed off Dominic to no end. There was no way in hell that this steroid-infused butt sniffer would get him to 'open up' to anyone especially Colin. At the very least, he could see that his archenemy was equally as uncomfortable about the situation as he was. He tried not to smile, however, as the goody-goody was compelled to answer because this was a teacher that was asking him to spill all his secrets.

"Well..." Colin began, rubbing the back of his neck. "My name is Colin Meade. I'm eighteen-years old. I'm here because..." He glanced over his shoulder, throwing a pointed stare at Dominic. "Because I got into a fight."

"A fight?" Holt said, inclining his head to the side. "Is that where you got that cut?" He said as he gestured to the small cut on Colin's cheek.

'That cut' was a gratifying mark that Dominic had inflicted upon Colin with his pocket knife. It was only a surface wound that sliced across Colin's otherwise perfect, chocolate skin but he dearly hoped it would be permanent.

"Yes sir," Colin answered, eyes cast down.

"What was the fight about?"

It took a few moments before Colin could respond. "All I did was ask someone if they needed help with their math homework... That same someone came at me like a rabid... erm... cat and slashed my cheek."

Dominic balled his hands into fists and finally straightened. "Like I need your charity!" he spat. "Just because you get the good grades and all the teachers love you doesn't make you more than hot shit, Meade!"

Holt lifted a paw in his direction. "Whoa there, kid -"

"Don't 'whoa' me, howler," he sneered. "You're just as stupid and fucked up as he is." He threw a birdie in Colin's direction. "No matter how much you polish shit up, it's still fucking shit. You've come to the worst school in all the fucking States! Doesn't matter if you get straight A's or join all the fucking clubs. You're still going to turn out like shit!" He jerked his chin towards Holt. "And if you're here, 'Coach', means you must've done something pretty fucked up. So what did you do? Fuck your kids? Make little girls squeal?"

Holt wasn't fazed at all and his sky-blue eyes were calm, cool and collected. "I was actually given the choice of going here or to a college. I decided to come here because I needed a challenge. My last assignment was fun but I just came out of a long sabbatical and I feel like I need to stretch my legs a little instead of being handled with kiddie gloves." He gave Dominic a challenging stare. "And what about you, Mr...?"

"Fucker," sneered Dominic. "Dominic Fucker."

"So Dom Fucker?" Holt said, a slight smile on his lips. "Your parents were pretty clever naming you."

He walked right into that one and Holt's cool attitude was really getting on his nerves. "Fuck you."

"If you want but from what I remember, Mr. Zhang, you're nineteen and technically an adult so if you stick your dick in me, you'd be the one doing the raping. I'm pretty sure the courts would see you doing the time."

Dominic jumped to his feet. "So you know my name. You must feel like a fucking big man."

"I've got three hundred pounds on you so, yeah. I'm feeling pretty big." Holt just spoke with that easy casualness that aggravated Dominic. It was some sort of passive-aggressive shit that sent his blood boiling. "Do you like to fight, Dominic?"

The question jarred Dominic.

"I don't fight because I like it," he growled back. "I fight because I have to. In this world, you either fight or you roll over and get fucked."

Holt gestured towards Colin. "And what do you think Mr. Meade is doing here? Is he rolling over and getting fucked? Is getting the most of his education, priming himself up for a good future even though he's starting from the bottom rung considered 'getting fucked'?"

"It's a fucking waste of time, that's what it is," he scowled back. "Just like this bullshit exercise." He sat back down and rested his head on his arms. "Just leave me alone."

"Now come on," Holt said. His voice was starting to really irritate Dominic. "It's a Friday afternoon. Don't tell me you'd rather be doing something else apart from sitting here for the next ten minutes to start off your weekend."

Dominic just scoffed and ignored the wolf. He wondered what it was about new teachers and always trying to be so friendly. Couldn't they just understand that this 'school' was just a glorified jail and that they were the wardens or security guards? There was no point in being friends with prisoners. There was no changing their lot in life. Fate had decided to throw them to the deep end and as far as Dominic was concerned, he was just languishing at the bottom of the pool waiting to drown. Idiots like Colin were trying to swim but he would eventually run out of energy one day and drown with the rest of them.

"I really don't like fighting," Colin admitted. "It's just really tough in this school, you know? I mean, this is the best my family could afford. I try to make the best of it. But the awful thing is... If you just mention that you come from _Avenue Heights_to any college recruiter, you immediately get rejected."

"So what's your plan then?" Holt asked. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Dominic rolled his eyes but didn't make a sound.

"I'm going to go to a community college first. The kind that can put a buffer between this school and college. Gives me time to earn money for college as well."

"You've got a job?"

"Yeah! I work at a Walmart in town. Don't pay the most but it's not like I have to pay for rent or anything. My parents are more than willing to support me until all the way. I'm the first one of my family to actually even try to get into college."

"Oh? What's the rest of the family do?"

"Well I'm an only child but my dad runs a repair shop downtown. My mom is a hotel cleaner. The rest of my extended family sort of own small businesses or something around the place. None of them have ever gone to college, though."

"Well good on you for trying to break the mould and make your own path," said Holt. Dominic cringed because he could almost feel the wolf grinning. "And hey, since I'm sure you have to get to work, why don't you head on out?"

"You're serious?" exclaimed Colin, his excitement so sickening that it made Dominic's skin crawl. "Thanks, Mr. Holt!"

"Please, I'm not Mr. Holt. Just Coach or if you're feeling formal, 'Coach Holt'. 'Garret' if it's just between us."

"Thanks Garret! You're awesome!"

There was a sound of shuffling that piqued Dominic's attention and he lifted his gaze as Colin practically skipped out of detention. He felt Holt's gaze upon him and he shot the huge wolf a defiant stare.

"If you expect me to beg to be let out then you can fuck off," he scowled.

Holt lifted one, dark red eyebrow. "No son, I expect you to sit there, act like you're a badass with all your piercings and pretend you're rebellious when in reality, you're a conformist just like everyone else."

"The fuck you say!?" snapped Dominic, slamming his palms on the desk. "I ain't no sheep!"

"God forbid, no. You're dressed up in that black leather jacket, those huge, black boots and torn jeans like you've been on the wrong side of the tracks. Nice shirt with offensive imagery, by the way." Holt nodded in his direction. "Lots of metal, wearing a heavy chain and spikes. Unconventional haircut. Long hair that's dyed blonde which is unusual for anyone of Asian descent. And is that eyeshadow?"

Dominic didn't respond and just growled.

"You're no sheep," confirmed Holt. "You're a dog. A would-be-wolf that's been tamed and domesticated. You like to act tough, bark it up and bare your fangs but all that leather is just your leash. People think it's 'cool' to have you around but there's hundreds of you all around the place. You're not wild. You're not vicious. You're not unique. You're not a rebel. All you are is just another dog."

Then Holt glanced at his phone, a simple black block that Dominic couldn't recognise. "And that's time. Detention is officially over, Mr. Zhang. I suggest you get out of here or you'll be charged with loitering just like every other punk out there who thinks they're standing up against authority."

Pure untempered hatred boiled within Dominic. Fury burned behind his eyes and he jumped to his feet before slammed his palms against the table one more time just for good measure. His dark, nearly black eyes burned at this smug wolf and there was nothing more that he wanted to do than to charge at the big guy and sock him one.

"Before you think about punching me," Holt said, his eyes glinting. "It's after school. You're legally an adult. You hit me and it's assault. If you think you'll do better in jail than in here, then be my guest."

"Fuck you, man!" Dominic sneered. "Jail is better than this shithouse!"

The wolf straightened and spread his arms wide, exposing his enormous, muscled chest. "Then come at me."

The temptation was there. He didn't have his pocket knife but maybe he could pick up the desk and slam it against the behemoth of a wolf. The only thing holding him back was the one thing that had kept him alive this long: self-preservation. Garret Holt was right. The wolf had three hundred pounds on him and anything he tried would certainly get him killed. The school wouldn't bat an eye if he died. He'd just be another delinquent that died on the streets of Blue Plateau. No one would mourn him. Jail would be better than death and, on some levels, Avenue Heights was better than jail.

With a huff, Dominic Zhang straightened and kicked the desk to the ground. Holt didn't even flinch. Hoisting his bag over his shoulder, Dominic stormed out of the detention room.

"Hey Dom," Holt said suddenly. Dominic wasn't sure why he stopped but he did. "You're already nineteen but what do you want to be when you grow up?"

"Whatever," he scoffed and stormed off.

Avenue Heights was a relatively small school really only consisting of a single building. The city had once been prosperous enough to afford multiple campuses, but when the mining boom went bust and things changed over to oil, things started changing. All the money was now all owned by big companies that would find any way they could to cut corners. This meant that the city couldn't afford to keep things running. Schools were closed one after another and Avenue Heights was all that was left due to its small space and low running costs. But with little funds they couldn't even really afford any real sporting areas. There was an open-air basketball out front and if any of the teams needed to practice football, they would have to travel a couple of miles to the next town over. The building itself, however, was several storeys of red brick painted over with various forms of graffiti that it almost looked like an art instillation. Though sporting a proud seven floors excluding the basement, the institution was overshadowed by the skyscrapers and other buildings that surrounded it.

Even after the construction boom with the energy companies moving in and building offices nearby crime rates were ridiculous and it was considered one of the most dangerous cities in Northern California. Every street in the inner city was awash with the homeless. Gangs ran around while the police were either corrupt or too meek to do anything about the rampant crime. City officials were no better and there were rumours of mob ties though Dominic had never seen it himself. Those businesses that managed to make and own the enormous corporate skyscrapers were either paying protection money or had some dirt on someone that kept them protected.

Despite all that, this was Dominic's home. The mean streets of Blue Plateau were his territory.

Yet despite that, he couldn't keep Coach Garret Holt's words from crawling through his mind. Blue Plateau was filled with kids like him. Held back one year for not being 'smart enough', running around with piercings, dressed in black and making a point to rebel against the norm. What made him special? Why should anyone really care about what he did or said if he was just one in a million?

Dominic shook his head free of the thought. "Stupid wolf," he growled to himself. "Thinks he knows shit."

He approached the apartment complex where he lived with his uncle, shuffling through the atrium where the doorman kept his head down and didn't even dare to look at him. Upon approaching the elevator, he punched the button for the 19th floor. Leaning back against the wall, he waited, trying not to think about what Holt had said until the elevator brought him right to the top floor.

There the doors swung open and revealed to him the penthouse suite.

This was where he lived, where his uncle Rodney Zhang 'took care' of him. He didn't expect Rodney to be home, of course. Ever the workaholic, his uncle hadn't done much raising and did more throwing money in his direction and let him do his own thing.

Everything was kept neat and tidy, of course. The maids had been in. In the years since he had been sent here by his parents back in China, he had been 'raised' by the various maids that his uncle had paid to keep the house nice and tidy. There were no paternal figures in his life and the maternal ones came and went every few months. Luxury was a given as could be said about the wide, open spaces with plenty of natural light, leather couches and even the grand piano sitting next to the floor-to-ceiling windows. But it always felt so fake, so artificial.

To Dominic, this apartment was a pedestal that he was perched upon. It wasn't real. It was a fantasy. Down there in the muck and mire, where the real people were, that was where he belonged. That was Blue Plateau.

So with that in mind, he went into his room which was decorated by all sorts of dark, punk posters and junk. It was the one room the maids weren't allowed in. He had discarded clothes scattered about and even a little Satanic shrine next to his desk. Not that he was a worshiper. He just absolutely loved it when one of the maids came in and freaked out when seeing it.

Dominic dumped his bag on his bed, ducked under the bed itself and fished out the secret stash of cash he had that his uncle had been unwittingly contributing to. He flicked out a few fifties, stuffed it back in the shoebox marked 'Memories' and then hurried back out. There was no need to take a cab where he was going. The gang was already waiting for him just two blocks down in the alleyway that they had always promised to meet.

The 'gang' consisted of five guys and one of them his best friend, Mortimer Heathrow. Morty, as he liked to be known, was a brown-haired, freckled man in his twenties that had dropped out of Avenue Heights the first year Dominic had been there. Morty's green eyes were always bright, excitable and scheming. It had been Morty that had really introduced Dominic to the underbelly of Blue Plateau. At first it had been because Dominic could fish out a lot of cash but over the years since then, he liked to think Morty took care of him.

"Dominic! About fucking time," Morty playfully scowled. "Detention?"

"What do you think, fucker?" Dominic scowled. "Gave that pussy preppy Colin Meade a nice new facial birthmark. Here's hoping its permanent."

Morty threw his short, brown hair back in a laugh. He kept his shaved and close so the tattoo of a dragon could be seen on his skull. The problem was that he grew hair faster than Dominic could breathe so the ink often got hidden by the light fuzz across his scalp. "That's my mate. Come on then. We got some shit to do."

That was Morty. He was a good leader of the gang. Had principles too. No drugs. Not even smoking. He figured that the temporary high that came from doing that shit would be nothing compared to the mayhem and madness they could cause while technically obeying the law. Possession and drunkenness could get them arrested but just loitering, doing things that were technically not illegal and pissing off the cops, now that was where the real jot came from. Dancing between the fine line of the law was made Dominic unique. Coach Garret Holt had no idea what he was talking about.

"Fuck Holt," he growled.

"What was that?" Morty asked.

"Just this new asshole at school. Forget about him."

*******

Garret slipped into his truck and placed the solid black box that was his phone against the dock on the dashboard. The phone, a Nexus Monolith, sprang to life and a synthetic but seemingly natural feminine voice burst from the device.

"How was your first encounter with the target, MCA-WT69?"

The towering wolf with the build to put bodybuilders to shame rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you, SABLE? Just call me Garret." He started up the truck which came to life without so much as a soft roar. "And it went as expected. Honestly, Colin Meade seems a much easier target than Dominic Zhang but I'm not here to take the easy way out." He grinned to himself, his tail slapping behind him in excitement. "He likes to think himself a rebel. Stir things up with a fight. You know the type."

He could almost feel the artificial intelligence nod. "The kind who thinks they are standing up against authority but are, in reality, just conforming to a different kind of norm. In essence, it is the opposition party in a government but instead of wearing suits and ties, they wear offensive shirts and black leather."

"And metal. Don't forget the metal." Garret shook his head and pulled out of the teacher's parking lot. "Kids today. They all think if they put on this badass persona and pretend to be into satanic worship, heavy metal and graffiti artists it will set them apart from the crowd. I'm honestly a bit tempted to kidnap him and take him to a vampire convention to show him how much that lifestyle has been co-opted.

"Taking him to one of those would more than likely turn him away from that sort of theme yes, but calculations also show that under-valuing the image he has built for himself could lead him to more extreme methods of validating himself," SABLE warned.

"Well, that was just one option. I was also almost tempted to turn him into a sexy rock star. But he doesn't show any inclination towards music."

"What do you think then?"

Garret pulled out into the streets of Blue Plateau, heading northwest towards the airport. "I'm torn between wrestler, football player or one of those mixed martial artists."

"All three would complement his inherent aggression; however wrestling is strictly choreographed and that would curb his natural creativity. Football is a good option but analysis shows that he needs a balance between structure and freedom that favours freedom."

"So MMA it is," Garret said with a smirk. "If I recall correctly, there's some sort of MMA title match happing right now, right?"

"Correct. The heavy weight title match between Charles Silva and Taylor Chavez is tonight. It is being held in Houston, Texas. The favoured to win is Taylor Chavez as the current champion but Silva is seen as having a good chance and is currently seen as the young upstart. Curiously, some organised crime bosses have made a bet on the outcome of the match."

Garret lifted an eyebrow and glanced towards his Monolith. Traffic was slow so he had plenty of time to think and talk. "What are we talking about here, SABLE?"

"Silva got his 'big break' from influence by the crime ring known as the Night Blood Gang_. They are a mafia-style gang that thrives on corruption in elite sporting events within this universe. Countless matches have been rigged and betted on by their associates which lead to profit on their end. Silva is the underdog and should he win, the_ Night Blood Gang will benefit greatly."

"So they've rigged the match?"

"Yes. They will place a nearly undetectable poison into Chavez's drinking water. It will cause him to become slow and sluggish. Enough for Silva to win."

"Does Silva know of this?"

"No. As far as he is concerned, he is aware that he works for the gang but only to fund him. He is afraid that they will do something to fix the match but is more concerned that they will demand he throw the match."

The traffic started again and he bobbed his head from side to side. "So sort of innocent. Not entirely but still innocent. How's his skills? Is he actually any good?"

"Quite so. Given a few years, he may actually win this title match fairly."

Garret drummed his fingers against his leathery steering wheel. "Alright. I've got a plan. Get me a plane to Houston. A ticket to that match as well and if possible, access to Chavez."

"Already done. Your flight is in an hour and a half. I have VIP backstage passes for you waiting upon landing."

"Great." Garret's mind was racing. "Silva will probably want to get away from Houston for a bit. Get us both flights to Florida."

"Why Florida?"

He grinned broadly. "I heard that Eric Pitt is doing a promotion for his movie The Last Emperor down there in Disney World since they're opening that new attraction for it."

"You mean the aptly named 'Orient Town'?"

Garret shuddered. Disney, in its attempt to diversify was building a new 'town' in Disney World that was Asian-themed which it aptly named 'Orient Town'. At first it was named Chinatown but then that was seen as greatly offensive by the Chinese. Asia Town was similarly frowned upon. They tried to go with 'Eastend' but then that was considered white-washing. So they just went Orient Town until someone else decided that was offensive. The Disney company had used Eric Pitt - an Asian-American - to promote its creation in an attempt to branch multiple cultures to smooth things over.

"That's the one."

"Very well. Shall it be hasty? How long after you save Silva?"

Garret gave it more thought. "Ten tomorrow morning."

"I caution that the Night Blood Gang -"

"Oh I know they'll catch up with us by then, SABLE." He grinned savagely. "I'm counting on it."

"Very well. Booked."

"Lastly, the flight back here get in contact with Peter Crosse. He's a Colonel now, right?"

"Yes he is. Why would you need him? I understand Silva for his MMA skills and perhaps Pitt for his charm and 'star quality' but why the Colonel?"

"Simple," Garret answered. "Discipline."

There was about a second where SABLE paused likely consulting with the other four AIs that helped with Agent missions. "Confirmed. Your flight to Houston will be at 6:47 PM. You have about an hour to get to the airport in this traffic. I'll do what I can. You will arrive in Houston at about 10 PM. This match is slated to start at midnight."

He snorted at the comment and turned a corner into a street where there was little traffic. "They're pulling out all the stops on this one."

"It is a Friday so the schedulers figured that sports bars and the like will be packed with patrons willing to watch the match. Setting it up at midnight allows a large number of people to arrive well before curfew and last call."

"Smart. Book me a motel somewhere close to the arena. Somewhere I can quickly get Silva to before the mob gets us."

"Done. I'm sending coordinates now. I have your flight to Florida at 10 AM. You will arrive in Orlando at midday. Eric Pitt will be making his appearance at five in the evening."

Garret smiled to himself as he turned into another street, this one far less packed than the main street and allowed him to accelerate without stopping so often. "Perfect. I can spend the night with them. Give me a good five hours to get what I need."

"I shall book a flight for you to California at midnight. You will be taking the red-eye back here and arrive at five in the morning."

That suited him just well. The Colonel was an early riser anyway if he remembered correctly. "Get the Colonel to meet me at seven. We can spend Sunday together."

"Confirmed. I'm sending your itinerary to your Monolith now. Take care, Garret. Try not to be careless."

He laughed softly and patted the Monolith as if he were to pet a cat. "Don't worry about me, SABLE. The only reason I'm taking any risks is because a tough guy like Silva only answers to another tough guy. Besides, can't have the mob hounding a potential resource, right? I'm going to save him some grief."

"By forcing the Conglomerate to act. Your involvement with Charles Silva will paint a target on you as well and as such, the Conglomerate_will be inclined to protect its established asset, you. If you wanted us to pull the influence of the_ Night Blood Gang against Mr. Silva, you could have just asked."

Garret shook his head as he finally got onto the freeway and had a straight shot to the airport. In an urban setting like Blue Plateau, once he got away from the main CBD, the streets were nearly empty. The freeway still had its business men and soccer moms rushing to their suburban homes, naturally, but at least he was travelling over ten miles an hour. "Trust me, I know about the Night Bloods. Their influence isn't as far-reaching as some of the mainstream gangs but they've got their fingers in almost any professional sport in this universe. If we get the Conglomerate to start pulling string and altering reality to back off Silva's case, questions will be asked on why the young underdog wasn't funded and that could lead to far more people getting hurt."

SABLE paused, this time a long pause. She was likely consulting with Alabaster or_Critical_ on his assertion. It took then an entire five minutes to check with one another. Still an impressive feat considering they had to sift through all the possibilities along the timelines, assess actions and their consequences and take in to considering random factors. He remembered back in basic training that even the greatest of minds could not account for a butterfly landing on leaf in such a way that a single band of sunlight struck the eye of the sniper just as he pulled the trigger to assassinate the dictator thus causing him to his the dictator's wife instead.

"You are correct," SABLE_admitted. _"If we pulled the Night Blood's influence from Silva while maintaining his career, either the Conglomerate supports him or someone else does. Either way, this will be construed as encroaching upon Night Blood_territory and could lead to a potential loss of assets. This way is indeed the path of least bloodshed assuming you do not use lethal force."_

Garret smirked. "When have I ever used lethal force?"

"Point taken. Good luck._ECHO _will be on standby in case you need further support."

"Thanks, SABLE."

Garret made his way to the airport without issue. He had plenty of time to check in and even sit in the lounge for a bit sifting through all the details on his marks before it was time to board. Given his immense size, SABLE had bought him two seats right next to the windows. There were no divisions between furs and humans in this world. He smiled and waved at the little girl in the isle seats who kept pointing in his direction. With almost four hours until he arrived in Houston, he took the time to review what he knew about Dominic Zhang.

Dominic's uncle, Rodney, worked at a bank as a manager. In reality, that was little more than an empty title. It meant that he was just a step above the permanent employees and really didn't manage anyone. While the money was good, it kept him extremely busy at all hours of the night. With the bank being a global corporation, he was getting calls at all hours of the night to approve this transaction or to close that deal. The poor guy had been in that position for over ten years with only the yearly bonus and cost of living raise. It was thankless work but he stuck to it because he was too afraid to leave due to his standard of living.

The Zhangs lived in a penthouse suite close to the CBD with maid service and all the trimmings including a pool. While that may seem luxurious, neither of the two men frequented the apartment even on weekends. Rodney was usually busy working or flying off to one of the other branches on the Friday evening while Dominic was loitering around with his friends - a gang of dropouts that lived together in a dingy house in the suburbs while doing odd jobs around town to pay for rent and supplies.

Their gang was led by one Mortimer 'Morty' Heathrow. Like Dominic, he had attended Avenue Heights_before dropping out his senior year three years ago just when Dominic was starting his freshman year. Dominic had grown attached to Morty during that time and idolised the strong, independent rebel; the likely cause for Dominic's current attitude. To his credit, Morty wasn't a drug addict or a delinquent even though that was how his young protégé was taking it. Morty had a strict code of ethics. _Never do anything illegal. No drugs, no assault and definitely no murder. Sure they tended to teeter on the edge of the law here and there but they never fell over. Though it was only one mistake away from the inexperienced Dominic from taking that plunge.

Garret could see the support structure that Dominic relied on but there was still one unknown factor and that was Dominic's biological father, Cameron Zhang. He quickly asked _SABLE_to look for the man when the flight attendant came over and asked him to switch off his phone as they were about to land. The lights of Houston were quite spectacular in the evening and he settled in for the landing.

It took another half-hour before he was able to leave the plane with little more than a grey duffel bag over his shoulder. After passing through the airport, he found a limousine waiting for him. He smiled to himself at SABLE's exquisite tastes. With a nod to the driver who was holding up his name on a card, he entered the back of the limo. The driver gave him the VIP backstage pass and some additional clothing. As the car started, he told the driver to pull up the divider so he could get dressed.

The ensemble consisted of a brown jacket with material that appeared to be made of leather, a simple white, form-fitting runner's pants and a pair of brown loafers. There was a note in the jacket pocket.

"Initial analysis indicates that you are likely to encounter gunfire and get into a brawl," it said. "The fabric of the shirt and pants are made of shock-nullifying alloy and particle displacement technology. Any projectile coming at you will instantly be teleported to behind you and will appear to have missed you. Other sources of damage will be protected against but for the sake of believability, damage from bladed objects will only be dulled and not entirely stopped. They won't puncture your skin but it will still hurt."

It was signed by Alabaster,SABLE's brother and responsible for in depth analysis. Considered how he was potentially going to encounter resistance from a gang, he needed the extra protection. As he discarded his tight-fitting shirt and shorts, he quickly sent a text to SABLE to thank her and Alabaster_for the extra gear. Though this world didn't have gangsters with weaponry to rival the _Conglomerate, he still would prefer not to get shot. That and he would likely have one Charles Silva in tow.

The driver took him first to a simple motel a fair distance from the stadium. The woman at the counter took a visible step back the moment he entered and introduced himself as Garret Holt. She stuttered a welcome and gave him the keys. Her eyes lingered on his broad, muscled back and bubble butt on his way out of the little front office before heading up to the third floor of the motel buildings. It was fairly close to the big neon sign of the structure so there was a constant buzzing that filled the air not helped by the flickering of the 'A' in the 'No Vacancy' sign.

The interior of the room was no better. It was a simple single-bedroom facility with a twenty-year-old television perched at the foot of the bed on a rickety cabinet that looked about ready to collapse. There was barely any room to shuffle past the bed into the bathroom which had an awful green tinge to the tiles that he wasn't sure if it was a design choice or signs of age. Though there was a distinct smell of vanilla in the air, he hesitated to think exactly what that smell was hiding.

He shrugged it off. There were worse things he had experienced in his career as an Agent of the Nexus Conglomerate. It was about 10:50 in the evening. There was time enough to get his sweaty clothes from his duffel bag and start rubbing it all over the walls, sheets and floor. His scent had to be all over the room so that he could claim it as his domain. Everyone needed to know that he was the king in this place. Even humans whose sense of smell was a little less developed than most other furs. Once he was done, he put effort into making it look like he had been here at least for a day. He ruffled the bed sheets, he set the curtain ajar and lifted the toilet seat. As an afterthought, he reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a few pieces of clothing. Some of it he had worn but others were new. Most he discarded and left lying on the floor but he made sure there was a big, blue and white jockstrap that rested right beneath the one pillow on the bed.

Satisfied that the room looked like he had occupied it for more than fifteen minutes, he headed back out in his new attire and back into the limo. The driver knew exactly what to do and took the shortest route to the stadium. Even before getting within range of the event, he could already see the spotlights and hear the roar of the crowd as the pre-match banter rolled off. The fighters were likely just finishing their weigh-ins and now were just getting prepped in their locker rooms.

He was dropped off at the VIP entrance. Wearing the pass around his neck on a bright yellow and black lanyard, Garret stepped past security and into the depths of the stadium. Countless people, humans and furs alike, were darting everywhere in preparation for the fight. Though the public only saw two men beating each other senseless, there was a lot of preparation and organisation that happened in the background. Even more backroom dealing.

Garret took note that there were a few unsavoury looking men wandering around. They tried to look busy like they were bouncers but there was just something about the way they held themselves that oozed 'mob type'. He passed Taylor Chavez's locker room which was naturally guarded by a couple of big, burly guys wearing earphones and sunglasses despite being indoors. He flashed them his VIP pass and was allowed to step inside.

Chavez was getting ready. The big, burly Latino man was hopping from one foot to the other while his trainer and coach was listing off all of Silva's weaknesses and what to look out for. They barely paid him any attention as he quickly fished out his phone and pretended to take photos. In reality, SABLE was doing a quick scan of the area for the poison.

"Hey kid," the trainer barked, a grizzled, darked haired Doberman. "No photos. I know you've got one of them damn badges but come on. Respect."

"Sorry," Garret said, lowering the phone. He had spotted what he was looking for. "I'm just _so_stoked to be here! I mean, god, Taylor Chavez! You're awesome!"

"Yeah, yeah." The trainer waved him away. "Sorry kid. I know you paid good money for that pass but Chavez has to focus."

"Can I take a souvenir?" He pointed at the drink bottle. "Just this drink bottle? Please?"

The trainer gave Chavez a look and the current heavyweight champion just shrugged and nodded.

"Thanks! You're the best!"

Garret quickly swiped the water bottle laced with a nearly undetectable poison and hung around until Chavez was ready to face Silva. Then he followed the fighter out of the ring before being ushered into his own ring-side seat. Out of sight of the trainer or anyone else, he tucked the water bottle into is duffel bag. He wasn't sure if he'd ever need it again but it could potentially be evidence to be used later.

The announcer did his best to rile up the crowd but it was wholly unnecessary. Almost everyone in the crowd was itching to see how the title match would unfold. Almost. He noticed there were a few people in the front row that were staring gravely at both Chavez and Silva from opposite sides of the cage. Something told him that these two groups had an ill-gotten fortune resting on the outcome of this match.

They screamed mob to him. Whereas everyone else was dressed in loose-fitting casual shirts and a myriad of cargo, denim or polyester shorts or pants, these guys were in suits, ties and slacks. The biggest of them were always wearing sunglasses as if they had to protect anyone from ever seeing their eye colour no matter what. Those that were smaller, frailer were often casting glares at those opposite the ring challengingly. A few suspicious bulges pressed up against their jacket pockets which he strongly suspected may belong to hidden weaponry. How they got it past security was a wonder to him.

Then the match started.

Garret's eyes flicked towards the cage. Since he had a front-row seat, he could see Charles Silva very easily. Silva had come from a Russian background and it showed with his impressive 6'9'' height, still a little over a foot shorter than Garret. The heavyweight challenger had no issue gaining mass to meet the weight requirement but it was keeping it down that, according to interviews, was the problem. Every part of his body was lean, muscled and tightly compact. Veins rolled up his thick, powerful arms and his abdominals looked like it would be possible to grate cheese on them. He looked far bulkier than Chavez whose Latino frame was a little shorter at 6'5'' but both were brimming with muscles though Chavez could afford a little fat since he was 4 inches shorter and didn't need to carry around that much in bone mass. To complete the tough-guy look, Silva had the tattoo of a bald eagle across his back. Garret had read that apparently he had gotten it early in his career when he had started to get popular and started to get detractors telling him to 'Go back to Russia'. His stark blonde hair had also been cut into a short mohawk, again to give him a sharp tough-guy look.

As the match proceeded, Garret had to admit that Silva certainly had skills but Chavez was the champion for a reason and the Night Bloods wouldn't have poisoned Chavez if they were confident Silva could win unaided. His footwork was sloppy even though his punches were sharp and devastating. Chavez, however, benefitted from experience and a lower centre of gravity. He was able to duck beneath Silva's blows and get in a few hits while the taller, slower Russian was recovering between punches. Chavez was fast, deadly and didn't get disoriented so easily. With Silva's weak footwork, Chavez easily tripped him up and sent him grappling three minutes into the fight. By the look on the faces of the mob members, Garret could easily tell who was the Night Bloods and who were their rivals.

Chavez had an early lead and he kept it. Within a few more minutes, Silva was showing visible bruising both to his body and his ego. He was slowing down and though the crowd continued to cheer him on, the outcome of the match was quickly becoming evident.

Garret got up from his seat and quickly left. All focus was on the match so he easily slipped into the back where the fighters prepared themselves. He flashed his VIP pass to anyone that questioned him. A loud roar erupted from the stadium itself a moment later and he knew the match was over. He got into the limo that was waiting for him and the driver immediately drove away into the city itself. In the five minutes it took to get to exactly where he needed to be, Garret checked his _Monolith_for the details of the match. Experience had won over youth as Chavez soundly trounced Silva. The young challenger, battered and bruised, had to be carried away by his crew while Chavez celebrated his victory in the cage.

Garret noticed that the 'crew' that carried away Silva consisted entirely of men in suits.

"We're here, sir," said the driver.

"Thanks ECHO," he answered, leaving the limo. "Keep the motor running."

Striding down the dark, empty streets of Houston, Garret Holt slowed his pace, absorbing the silence of the city. A loud screeching noise followed shortly afterwards when three big, black vans came charging down the street and pulled into an alleyway a short distance away. Only then did he quicken his steps. His keen ears could pick up the sounds of metal meeting flesh and pleas for mercy. As he turned the corner, he took in the sight of the three vans positioned in such a way that their headlights were pinned against the far, brick wall. Silva was on the ground, bleeding and bruised, not even out of the shorts plastered with images of his sponsors. The headlights of the vans were pinned upon him. Around him were about eight bruisers from the Night Bloods and behind them was one tall, sleazy looking guy who bore a cane in one hand and a gun in the other.

"You have any idea how much you cost me?" snarled the man, likely the leader.

"Please, Mr. Yavette!" Silva pleaded. "I can do better next time!"

"There won't be a next time," snarled Yavette.

If there was a moment for horrible gangland clichés, this was it and Garret had the time to roll his eyes before he strode forward. "Hey!" he barked. "What's going on here?"

The mobsters and Yavette all turned in surprise. One of the bruisers stepped forward, crackling his big knuckles. The guy was human and pretty big too. Though nowhere near as big as Garret, he was still very intimidating.

"You better get out of here if you know what's good for you, pup," snarled the man, striding right up to Garret.

"See I highly doubt that," Garret said with a shrug. "If crime shows and movies have taught me anything, I'm a witness." He gestured towards Silva. "So either you let him go and I don't testify in court about this or you kill us both. Either way, 'getting out of here', isn't really a choice."

The thug made the mistake of turned towards Yavette with a smirk. "You hear this guy, boss?"

Garret pounced on the opportunity. He flung his fist forward, slamming right against the man's jaw. A sickening crack filled the alleyway as the thug's jaw shattered into pieces and blood exploded from between his lips. Unable to scream out in agony, the man stumbled back. Garret rushed forward, seizing the brute's meaty arm and bringing his elbow down onto it hard. Another crack could be heard and everyone present couldn't help but imagine the bruisers arm being snapped like a twig. With one final kick to the knee the man was brought down, groaning in pain and rendered immobile.

A pause here would've been fatal so Garret quickly jumped behind one of the vans and gave it had hard shove. Even with the parking break engaged and the van's heavy weight, he managed to surprise the mobsters by sending the van rushing forward. With a van charging through their ranks the mobsters barely had any time to react with only one of them grabbing hold of the frail Yavette and pulling him aside before he was crushed. Before he collided with the wall, Garret stopped and used his ridiculous strength once again to tear the back door of the van right off its hinges. Using the door as an impromptu shield, he rushed over while the mobsters were still dazed, grabbed Silva around the waist in the other and charged once more out of the alleyway. Yavette didn't have time to recover and by the time he had lifted his gun, both Garret and Silva were dashing down the street.

Garret barely made out Yavette's frustrated shout before he was throwing Silva into the limo.

"Drive, ECHO," he commanded.

"As you wish, sir," answered the driver. A few button presses later and the limo was storming down the streets, making sure that it passed the alleyway where Yavette and the Night Bloods were emerging. As the gangsters were recovering and jumping into their cars, ECHO pressed a few buttons on his dashboard. The limo slipped into a tunnel and the gangsters quickly began to catch up, but what emerged from the other side was a jet-black jeep with a distinctly different licence plate. ECHO even made a point of slowing down a little so that their pursuers could rush past him in their vans while Garret and Silva ducked down to avoid being seen.

After a few more minutes, they were clearly out of sight and it was obvious that the _Night Bloods_were completely unaware that they had just passed their quarry.

"Coast is clear, sir," ECHO stated.

"Good," Garret responded. "Bring us to the motel." He glanced towards Silva who barely had one eye open. Offering the battered and bruised man a concerned smile he reached into his duffel bag and retrieved a few bandages and some 'disinfectant'. "Here, let me have a look at those."

"Why did you save me?" Silva grunted in a thick, Russian accent.

Garret applied the mint-smelling green liquid. Silva had several cuts to his face and chest with deep bruising across his body. It was almost hard to tell what the gangsters had done verses what Chavez had done in the ring. But as he looked down at the boxer's hands he could tell that it was definitely the Night Bloods that had decided to dole out this particularly cruel punishment. It seemed that the gangsters had taken to smashing his hands which had deep wounds to his knuckles and ugly, purple welts all over. Even if Yavette had let him live, without treatment Silvia's fighting days would be over.

As the liquid seeped into Silva's injured hands, there was no stinging sensation. He had a bandage right beneath it and once it started to soak with the fluid, he wrapped it around Silva's hands. The fluid was actually something he had made himself. Someone he knew developed the original serum that rejuvenated the body and mind the moment it was ingested. Garret refined and diluted it a little more for field use by making it a sort of quick-fix medical aid. The bandages were just to keep the rapid healing process hidden from the unsuspecting Silva.

"Who are you?" Silva growled.

"My name is Garret Holt," he answered, reaching for Silva's other hand but the MMA fighter pulled away. "I represent the Nexus Conglomerate."

Silva sneered and turned away. "Great. So someone else who wants me to be their 'investment'." He snapped an angry gaze with his sharp, blue eyes directly at Garret. "You should've just left me for dead. Now I'll be caught in a war between your employer and those criminals."

"The Night Bloods don't stand a chance against the Conglomerate."

"That's what they all say," answered the man bitterly. "But now I'm indebted to you. I work for you now, don't I?" He rested his head against the window of the jeep with a sigh. "Story of my life. Grew up from nothing. Orphan. Made deals with gangs to get better. Only way I could've gotten up here is thanks to the Night Bloods."

Garret gently began to apply the liquid to the wounds on Silva's shoulders. At least the fighter didn't oppose him this time. "Why even go to them at all? There are plenty of other legitimate ways to get into professional MMA fighting."

"Don't you think I know that?" snapped Silva. "I tried. I tried training. But I never had the money to pay for a gym membership or professional advice. I had to pay my way through school by doing porn."

Garret lifted his eyebrows. "That's not in your bio." He made a mental note to always ask SABLE for this sort of information in the future.

"The Night Bloods_hid it away. That's how I got involved with them. One of their bosses oversaw the whole porn production thing and they headhunted me for this one movie. I was so dumb back then. I told them about my dream of being an MMA fighter. Had me go up against one of their thugs. Must've impressed them because that's when they sponsored me. I didn't even know they were a mob until I was already in the league." He shot Garret a foul stare. "And what are you? What's the _Conglomerate? Another gang?"

"Actually a collection of interdimensional corporations with a myriad of interests ranging from benevolent research to total world domination."

The fighter gave him a dubious look.

"Don't believe me?" Garret said. He reached for Silva's bandaged hand and unwrapped it again for the big reveal. Silva's blue eyes widened as he lifted his completely healed hand into the scant light of passing streetlamps.

"What the fuck...?"

"The Nexus Conglomerate," said Garret, "is way more advanced than you could ever imagine. We've been to space and back, across dimensions and even made our own universes. No joke. And we want you to be part of it."

"What? Me? Why?"

"Because you remind me of someone," the wolf said with a coy smile. "You drove yourself out of the muck and mire, driven by your own will, ambition and strength. No matter how humiliating, you kept to your path. It was a shitty path and you knew it but you still kept on walking it. That's impressive. I think it's about time you got a reward for it."

Silva inclined his head to the side. "Are you... Are you God?"

Garret rolled his eyes. "Why does that keep getting asked of me recently? Geez, that's what God does in this age of avaricious capitalism and wanton consumerism. Run a corporation." He shook his head at Silva. "No. I'm not. Just a guy working for the Conglomerate."

The injured fighter didn't oppose to Garret applying the rest of the aid to his remaining injuries. The big wolf's paws roved across the muscled Russian's chest and body, gently applying the liquid. Silva could only watch in stunned fascination as his injuries faded away and his flesh was mended. Garret was slow and gentle thankfully, his hands reaching every corner of his broad chest, revitalizing and healing wounds he had long forgotten about. But as his fingers neared his chest, the two men were surprised by the sudden appearance of a thick coating of hair that spread across Silva's chest like wildfire. Garret even stopped and raised an eyebrow before glancing back down at the sudden pelt the man sported.

"I shave my chest," Silva rumbled, eyes cast down. "You don't see many MMA fighters with hairy chests. It's a liability."

"Kind of why you don't get furs in MMA fighting in the same league as humans," Garret responded with a shrug. "So what do you think? You okay to join up with the Conglomerate?"

"If it gets the Night Bloods off my back, sure. But I don't even know what I'm signing up for."

Garret gave him a gentle smile. "Tell you what, we'll get you out of Houston pro bono. I've got some things I need to do down in Orlando. You tag along and decide if you want to sign up or not."

The gradually recovering fighter didn't seem convinced. "The Night Bloods will find a way to get me."

The big wolf glanced towards ECHO and the driver gave him a quick nod, the man's silver eyes shining beneath the chauffer's hat that he wore. "Don't worry," he said. "They won't. Trust me. I've already got guys from the Conglomerate looking into it."

Silva gave him a puzzled look and took his arm away. "Why? Why would you do this for me? What am I to you?"

The Conglomerate Agent knew he had to choose his next words _very_carefully. Here was a severely injured man who, in a way, was broken. Unable to stand due to the disadvantages brought to him by a variety of reasons, he had to crawl and beg others to help him achieve his dreams. But a dream could just as easily be twisted into a nightmare when it was constantly overshadowed by the debt owed to someone else. The parallels with Dominic were palpable.

"You're a talented MMA fighter who ran with the mob, lost them money and are now on their hitlist. The Conglomerate doesn't want anything in return for saving you or getting the Night Bloods off your back. Getting one gang off the streets is payment enough."

"That's bullshit. They're a corporation. They can't want something for nothing."

Garret had to give Silva props. The guy was pretty shrewd despite having his body and brain beaten professionally. The burly fighter wasn't wrong. Garret did want something from Silva but he thought it would be better saved or asked for later.

"The _Conglomerate_isn't like those gangsters. They take care of their people." He pressed a large paw against his chest. "Look, not too long ago I was in pretty bad myself. Something went wrong and I was pretty beaten up."

Silva, whose left eyes was starting to swell shut, gave him a lopsided smile mostly because the left side of his lips had been cut. "Worse than me."

"Much worse. It took a really long while for me to get back on my feet."

"How long?"

"Long enough even with_the technology of the _Conglomerate so you know it was bad." Garret reached into his duffel bag and retrieved a cloth. He applied some of the first aid liquid onto the cloth and began gently applying it to Silva's facial injuries. "They actually offered me a nifty retirement package. I chose to return to work instead." He dabbed the cloth against Silva's swollen eye. The swelling began to go down thankfully. "Would've been sent to my own private island. White sandy beaches, crystal clear blue oceans and my own boat to explore an ever-changing archipelago."

Silva cocked his head to the side primarily as a sign of his curiosity but secondly so that Garret could apply the concoction to his broken lip. "Why didn't you take it?"

That had been a question the Director himself had asked of him. Why not take the exclusive package to have his own private reality free of obligation from the Conglomerate? He would be retired. Not a Divisional Director that was compelled to constantly test or make sure his dimension was constantly benefitting the Conglomerate. He would be free. Why keep working at all?

"Let's just say that I've always found it hard to find a reason to stick to one place for very long," he answered.

The jeep came to a halt and ECHO glanced over his shoulder. "We're here, sir."

"Thanks," Garret responded, making sure not to use ECHO's name. He glanced back towards Silva. "Can you walk?"

The MMA fighter gave him a tentative nod and opened the door to the jeep. Silva hobbled along, his left leg heavily bruised and still injured from where the thugs had hammered him with punches and kicks. Still, he was a strong guy and he managed to make it all the way up to Garret's rented out room. Perhaps it was the blood still in his nostrils or just his exhaustion from the night but Silva didn't even ask as he staggered towards the lone bed and slumped down into the sheets.

The Conglomerate_Agent sincerely doubted he could get any fun out of Silva given his state. Though he _could use some of the blood he had collected, he preferred to get what he needed 'straight from the tap', so to speak. He glanced back towards the parking lot. The jeep began rolling back out onto the streets of Houston. ECHO was likely going to join the other Agents or Operatives to take down the Night Bloods. He had to wonder what they planned to do with the gang.

That was neither here nor there so Garret waited until Charles Silva was fast asleep before moving towards the slumbering man. The man did still sustain several injuries that needed care sooner rather than later. Reaching into his duffel bag he pulled out the bottle that he had kept the green substance in, giving it a light shake only to confirm that he had used it all up in the car. Shrugging to himself, he decided to get the stuff straight from the source.

Careful not to disturb Silva, he took off his coat and pulled up his shirt, revealing his muscled frame. Already growing somewhat aroused, he willed his cock to stop stirring in his pants like a ravenous, caged animal before he reached for the big, pink, supple nipples jutting out from his massive chest. He gave them a little tweak which was all that was needed for the green liquid to start squirting out from the fleshy nubs. His aim was a little off but he managed to get a few warm splatters onto Silva's leg; enough at least to start the rapid healing process.

As much as he wanted to stand there and ooze more of the stuff from his nipples, he had work to do and gently rubbed it up and down Silva's injuries. Once he was done, Silva was still sound asleep and snoring rather loudly. Part of him had to wonder if Dominic might inherit some of Silva's habits and mannerisms. Although imagining him becoming a well-built fighter with a Russian accent was admittedly sexy. But something like that would raise to many questions and it was likely something SABLE accounted for.

With his charge currently fully healed, he parked himself in the dusty couch by the window and just waited. Though it was late and he had already been up all day, he had no need for sleep. The Conglomerate Agent was wide awake and alert. He kept watch outside for any would-be attackers and read some details on his Monolith until the time came to move again. ECHO brought the car - this time a sedan - back to the parking lot and Garret got up. He gave Silva a gentle nudge to wake him up.

"Come on buddy," he said gently. "Time to move."

"Hrm...?" Silva murmured, blinking away the sleepiness. "How long was I out?"

"About six hours. Come on. We've got a flight to catch."

It was seven in the morning and by the time Garret had settled up their account and was heading out, it was half-past seven. ECHO, as professional as ever, didn't turn on the radio and just drove in silence while Silva, now fully healed, just looked out into the distance as Houston woke up.

Remembering that his charge was still very much naked, he tapped his driver on the shoulder. "Stop over there. We need to get our superstar some new clothes."

"I'm no superstar..." Silva muttered.

Garret gave the despondent fighter a little smile. "Maybe not but you're still mostly naked." He artfully patted Silva's leg making sure that one of his fingers was just close enough that it brushed up against Silva's dick. The fighter's reaction was exactly what he had hoped and Silva went rigid, even though he was not fully awake. For a manly-man like Charles Silva, the mere thought of another man touching his dick - regardless of whether or not it was partially hidden by a layer of thin, breathable cloth - was blasphemous.

Leaving the fighter with such thoughts, Garret turned and quickly left the sedan, trying not to smile too widely. Things were going better than expected even though they had a run-in with the Night Bloods. Though he was somewhat concerned about Silva's confidence. That would need to be fixed.

First he needed to get some proper clothing for Silva. Now that he thought of it, if they were going to be flying to Florida, he needed some form of identification for the sports star. Thankfully, SABLE had him covered. As he entered the nearby sports outlet, his phone buzzed. The message from her instructed him to specifically go to counter 10 at the airport. That suited him just fine.

At the store, he purchased one of those sleeveless hoodies made of a light fabric as well as some compressor pants. He got stumped at Silva's shoe size but SABLE kindly provided him the appropriate sizes as well as the brand that Silva favoured - curiously not the one that was sponsoring him. The cashier asked him if he wanted a few sizes bigger as they clearly wouldn't be enough to fit him but he just mentioned that it was for a friend and paid. With the garments in a neat little bag, he headed back to the car and handed them to Silva.

"Here. Put these on."

The Russian with the mohawk looked in the bag. "These are pretty pricy. You didn't have to get them for me."

Before he could answer, his phone buzzed. It was a warning from SABLE.

"Do not_mention anything about this being cheap for the_ Conglomerate_. Remember, Silva has been under the thumb of a gang that was rigging fights and throwing money around. He has become disillusioned against big spending."_

Making a mental note to thank the AI in the future, Garret said, "We need to be practical here. Your big title fight was about eight hours ago. People will be talking. Let's not forget that you kind of just disappeared in the company of some shady people right after the fight. If you walk into an airport shirtless and without shoes, you'll be singled out."

A thought occurred to him. "Speaking of which..." He reached into his duffel bag and retrieved an electric razor. "We need to get rid of any distinctive features. We're getting rid of the mohawk."

Silva flinched. "What? Why!?"

"The _Night Bloods_are after you, remember? They'll be watching any way to get out of the city including the airports. You've got to keep as low a profile as possible."

Wincing, Silva bowed his head, offering his trademark mohawk to be brutalised by Garret. The big wolf gently shaved off the streak of blonde hair until it was not so distinct anymore. The moment he finished, ECHO began the sedan and made a beeline for the airport. They were there with an hour to spare before their flight just as the airport was starting to fill with early morning commuters.

No one paid Silva too much mind as he kept his hood down and did his best to blend with the rest of the crowd. If anything, it was Garret's immense size that attracted the most attention. Thankfully, counter 10 was free and as he approached he immediately recognised the guy working on the other side.

"Hank?" he began, a smile crawling onto his face. "Is that you?"

Hank Tanner grinned broadly and they grasped each other's forearms in a familiar sign of greeting. "Hey Garret. Been a while. Haven't seen you around Dad's Mug in a while."

"I've been busy," answered Garret with a shrug. He held up the two tickets and placed them on the counter. "Need to get to Florida quickly. Think you can arrange it for me and my friend here?"

Hank, a compact human, glanced over at Silva and raised one blonde eyebrow. "I can arrange that. He tapped away at the keyboard. "I'm putting you both in first class. You get to board and disembark first and people will be less likely to bother you."

"That won't upset anyone else?"

"I can make an excuse." Hank's bright, green eyes darted across the screen. "Besides, this early in the morning the only first class seats are for those that can really afford it or want to put being on first class on their bucket list." He slammed on the 'enter' key with a flourish. "There we go." He printed out two new tickets and handed it to Garret. "Gate 4."

Smiling, Garret took the tickets. "Thanks Hank. Beer later?"

Hank gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm on this assignment for the long run. Sorry man. Maybe next time we're both free."

"Sure. Later."

Armed with both tickets, they quickly passed through security and headed towards their gate. They were ushered to board half an hour before the flight was scheduled to take off as since they were in first class, they were both shuffled in ahead of everyone. Thankfully even though he had to pull down his hood at security, no one managed to recognize Silva. Garret's keen ears did detect a few people asking their friends if the man in the red sleeveless hoodie was indeed Charles Silva but their friend would rebuke them. It seemed that the news about the fight had already circulated and no one would believe a man that didn't look like he just had his ass handed him could be that Silva.

The illusion had worked.

It was a good thing that Hank had given them first class seats because with Garret and Silva's broad frames, they would never have fit in coach. Garret settled in for the long flight and pulled out his Monolith. He was already planning his next moves when he felt Silva's eyes on him.

"You want to know my relationship with Hank?" he asked.

"Is he another one of... you?" Silva asked quietly.

With a small smile, Garret said, "Yes. He's a Conglomerate asset. He's a Specialist. I'm an Agent." Seeing Silva's confused look, he clarified. "The Conglomerate classifies its people in my line of work based on their talents and skills. We have Agents, Operatives, Specialists, Executives, Technicians and Auditors."

"What'll I be?"

It was a curious question. "I can't tell you that. You haven't signed up with us officially." He gave Silva a toothy grin before returning to his planning. Eric Pitt was still very much on schedule so the encounter would go off without a hitch. _SABLE_had booked him at the table right next to Pitt where they would 'conveniently' run into each other over lunch. In the meantime, he ran through some of ROGUE's reports on what Dominic was doing for the weekend.

The young rebel wouldn't get up until a little past noon and only then would he just scrape by his homework before falling asleep again. He would barely eat during that time and only once the sun had set would he raid his uncle's wallet before going out with Mortimer to hang out at the local McDonald's where they would hang out, eat and laugh loudly until the wee hours of the morning before heading back to sleep.

Such a carefree lifestyle. It was worth a little bit of envy. But during the projections, ROGUE mentioned an encounter with Colin Meade. That got Garret thinking.

"Who are those guys?" Silva asked.

He flicked his ears at the fighter and smiled, turning his phone towards the man. "My students. I'm a teacher at this small inner city school in California."

"Really? I thought..." Silva's features darkened just as they hit cruising speed. "What are you going to do to those kids?"

"Make their lives better if I can help it." Garret turned back towards the screen. "Children are the future. Every generation will always bring something new to the table."

"From the looks of that punk, you won't like what he brings."

There Garret chortled. "That's where you're wrong. People think that 'punks' or 'delinquents' are worthless and don't contribute to the 'greater good'. You've got to have a 9 - 5 job, a good 401K or a family to be considered 'worthy' or a functioning member of society. Maybe you need to have faith, a sense of self or a deep understanding of your own existence before you can be considered 'complete' or 'whole'." He shook his head. "The Conglomerate doesn't see it that way. We don't force people to adhere to our perspectives. Everyone is different and they have something different to offer." He gave Silva a faint smile. "Both winners and losers get into Heaven, you know."

Silva didn't respond to that and remained mostly silent on their long trip to Florida.

When they finally landed, they were both the first to get off the plane thanks to their premium seats. With no luggage save for the duffel bag that Garret was carrying, they made it out of the airport with relative ease. It came as no surprise when he caught sight of the familiar-looking chauffeur holding up a tablet with the word 'Holt' on it. He waved at ECHO and the agent nodded back to him in turn. An SUV was waiting for them. ECHO held the doors open for them and Garret caught the look Silva shot the agent.

"Is he a twin of the guy that drove us around?" asked the Russian as he buckled up.

"You could say that," he responded. "Hope you've got a big smile ready because we're going to Disney World."

The MMA fighter gave him a pointed stare. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. Is this some sort of trick to get me to cheer up or something? Fucking Disney World?"

"No. I told you. I'm meeting someone there."

"Who?"

"Eric Pitt."

Even though they ran in difference circles of celebrityhood, even Charles Silva knew who Eric Pitt was and no doubt Pitt knew who Silva was. That was something that Garret was counting on. From Orlando Airport, it was just a short drive all to the Disney World Resort where they had a rather large, exclusive two bedroom unit booked. Thanks to some work from SABLE, the master bedroom had a big enough bed to fit the two of them - or three, if all went according to plan. Silva said nothing as Garret took the master bedroom.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the resort, Garret told Silva that he would be out in a moment and they could grab some lunch. That gave Garret time to quickly smear his scent all over the master bedroom to make sure that he claimed it as his own. He hadn't had the opportunity to use that particular power back in Houston as Silva had passed out but he had the full intention of using it today.

Knowing Eric Pitt, however, he quickly discarded the clothes he had been wearing and tossed them aside, making sure that they littered the floor. The master bedroom had an adjacent bathroom which he took full advantage of. Disney thankfully had taken some progressive steps and had begun to use fur-friendly showers which were equipped with full-body dryers and waterjets implanted to the walls. His duffel bag provided some shampoo that was good for lupine fur and he made sure to lather down to the roots. He wanted to make sure he was squeaky clean for Mr. Pitt.

He stepped out of the shower a moment later, washed and dried. It would usually take an hour or so for a fully furry individual like himself to comb down his fur but there were more cosmetic advantages to being an Agent of the Nexus Conglomerate. His fur immediately began rearranging themselves, flattening out making sure that they were perfectly angled so that when they could catch the light in just the right way to accentuate his muscles. Even without a comb, his blonde hair came together in a tussled, youthful disarray like he had just woken up from bed and but still looked fantastic. His chinstrap beard was a little off though and didn't quite fit the natural scruff of his hair. So at his will, a little bit of a blonde shadow appeared across his cheeks like someone had smudged the hard edges of his chinstrap into the rest of his fur. That was more appropriate for a guy that flew down from Houston and hadn't shaved.

Nodding to himself and satisfied with his appearance, Holt turned and left the bathroom. He stopped in mid-stride when he noticed that Silva was in the room looking into his duffel bag.

"Have you tried sticking your arm in there yet?" Garret asked, inclining his head slightly to the side.

Silva hadn't noticed him and jumped back in surprise, dropping the bag. "Ah! No... I... uh... well..."

It was cute seeing the Russian blush. Garret strode forward, fully naked, and picked up the bag. He reached in, letting his whole arm slide into the bag up to the shoulder. Silva's eyes widened in surprise especially as Garret started to pull out what appeared to be half of a tank's cannon!

"One of the many tools given to us by the Nexus Conglomerate," explained Garret, sliding the cannon back into the bag. "It produces anything I want and need. Only me though. You'll just see an empty bag."

"Damn..." Silva sat down on Garret's bed while the wolf began retrieving a few pieces of clothing. "Why didn't you just bring out some clothes for me instead of buying me stuff?"

The wolf snickered as he pulled out a pair of form-fitting denim shorts and a jockstrap. He slipped them on, making sure that Silva saw him adjust his sizeable package first. "What? And scare you off by producing clothes that miraculously fit you from my duffel bag of mysteries? Now that'd just be crazy."

"You mean apart from all this shit you're telling me?" Silva laughed. "I mean, I've been involved with the mob but the shit you've done... Fuck man..."

"You haven't seen the least of it." He pulled out a plain white shirt, one that could easily hug his form and had a rather deep, plunging neckline. On him, however, the tip of the 'v' just crested ended a little below the shelf of his pectorals.

"Yeah? Like what?" Silva challenged. There was that bit of machismo that Garret was hoping to see. "You rescued me out of nowhere. You claim that you're part of some sort of super-organisation or something that can get the Night Bloods off my back. You have connections, I'll give you that. And a magic bag. Maybe you're just some really weird Mary Poppins kind of guy."

That made Garret laugh. "Huh... I guess all I'll need is a little umbrella that lets me fly and that'd be an accurate comparison." He slipped his feet into his runners, the only thing he hadn't changed, and headed for the door. "Come on. I'm feeling hungry."

"Please tell me we aren't actually going into Disney World, are we?"

Garret shook his head and led the way to the hotel's restaurant. It was a classy sort of place that claimed to have their own gourmet chef. In the often hot and humid weather of Florida, it was important that such restaurants kept scents as neutral as possible so especially when furs were around. The air had this odd, metallic tang to it that made Garret wiggle his nose a little as he entered. After giving his name to the maître d, he was led to the private booth at the far corner of the floor well away from everyone else.

He noted that there was already a man sitting in the booth behind theirs sipping a cup of coffee while regarding his tablet intently.

"This place is pretty fucking fancy," Silva said. Then he quickly ducked his head. "Ah shit... I mean, damn. Sorry. Gotta stop swearing, right?"

A spark of inspiration hit Garret. "Hey, we're paying for this place so we can say whatever the _fuck_we want." He reached over and gave Silva's shoulder a little shove. "Bitch."

Silva looked shocked but then his half-opened mouth twisted into a smile. "Bro, you did not just fucking shove me."

Garret crossed his arms. "Bro, I think I just did. Whatcha gonna do about it, asshole?"

Silva slammed the menu down on the table with a challenging grin on his face. "I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to kick your ass, shove your dick down your own throat and then I'm gonna fuck you raw!"

"Never took you for being such a fucking faggot."

"Faggot!? You're the Gaylord perving on his own students!"

"And who is the guy that grapples with mostly naked, muscled, sweaty men as a profession?"

"You shit -"

There was a loud slam from behind them and Eric Pitt got up furiously before spinning around. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he sneered, "but would it kill either of you to have some civility? This is a family restaurant, you know!"

Silva's eyes widened at the sight of the movie star. "Holy shit... You're Eric Pitt!"

The 5'9'' Asian actor had recently hit Hollywood for a variety of reasons. Apart from his splendid acting that broke the barriers of the traditionally Caucasian-dominated silver screens, Pitt was a philanthropist, an outspoken advocate for LGBT rights and one handsome devil. The world all over melted at the sound of his silvery voice coupled by his perfect golden-bronze skin, chiselled jaw and the sight of those scrumptious abdominals as he played the sexy angel Gabriel in the movie adaptation of some obscure comic book. In that film, he went around shirtless and only wore a pair of tight, white, leather pants to match the CGI wings that he sported. Interestingly, they actually had to dye his hair black because he was actually a natural blonde - unusual for someone of Asian descent but not impossible. Sceptics often claimed that he dyed his hair but he always insisted he was au natural. It didn't help that he had yet to date anyone or even be with anyone at his young 27 years of age so no one could confirm if the drapes matched the carpet.

"Yes, I'm Eric Pitt," sneered the actor currently dressed in a conservative teal collared shirt and dark slacks. Pitt's light-brown - almost amber - eyes lost their fury and were replaced with a look of confusion. "And you're Charles Silva, aren't you? That heavyweight MMA fighter that lost the title just yesterday?"

Silva ducked his head in shame. "Uh... yeah. That's me."

Seeing plans come together was always a joy for Garret and with just a little shuffle to his right to make room, Pitt was suddenly sitting right next to him.

"I barely recognised you without your mohawk," admitted the actor. "I watched that fight, though. You were at the top of your game!"

"His footwork was sloppy though," Garret chimed in.

Silva shot him a foul look. "Chavez was just better. He's got the experience."

No doubt there was much more to it than simply Chavez's experience. Garret knew how the pressure from third parties could impact performance. The threat of the Night Bloods likely hindered the Russian's performance.

"I could never get up there and fight like that," Pitt said with a shake of his head. "I mean, I know I played an MMA fighter once but that's all acting and makeup. I have great respect for you."

"Are you kidding me?" Silva laughed softly. "I've been beaten up all my life. It's getting beaten up in front of the whole fucking country that's goddamn scary. I don't know how you can put yourself out there like that. And you're not even playing yourself."

Pitt rolled his eyes and leaned back against the booth. "Acting is easy. When you lose yourself in the moment, everything just fades away. I get involved in the fantasy, in the _reality_of the production. I forget about the green screens, the cameras and the crew. It's just me and the story being told."

Silva was pensive for a moment which gave Garret the opportunity he needed.

"Aren't you doing that sequel to Fists of Iron?" he asked. "If you wanted some pointers from a real MMA fighter, this might be a great opportunity."

Pitt's eyes glimmered. "Hey, yeah! Is there anything you can tell me that'll help?"

Before Silva could respond, Garret said, "Why don't we go back to our room?" He glanced around, keenly aware that a few people were starting to take notice. Pitt's exclamation of Silva's identity had also started people whispering. "I think two big superstars like you two had started to get people's attention."

The experienced actor took notice as well and nodded. "Good point. Lead the way."

There were already a few people snapping pictures on their phones as they left the restaurant and likely posting images on social media. The idea that Eric Pitt who was making a sequel to his hit movie about an aspiring MMA fighter in the company of Charles Silva was likely enough to start the world abuzz with gossip. Garret had to wonder where this would lead for these two but he was not blind to the looks Pitt had been giving him and though Silva did his best to hide it, he could not hide anything from the eyes of the Conglomerate AIs.

They returned to the suite he had rented with Pitt expressing his admiration from having booked such a fancy place.

"I would rather not mess up any of the furniture in our practice," Garret said. "Why don't we take this to the bedroom. A few less things to break then."

Silva recoiled at the thought. "What?"

"A good idea!" Pitt exclaimed. There was a predatory edge to his smile that confirmed Garret's suspicions. There was a reason why the stylish 27 year-old was still single despite having the 'hottest body in Hollywood' and abdominals that could 'Conquer the East and West'. It was sad that as progressive as Hollywood claimed to be that someone like Pitt still felt uncomfortable coming out to the world.

But Silva was still hesitant about his sexuality so Garret wrapped an arm around his shoulders and practically dragged him to the bedroom. Pitt perched himself on the bed without further prodding needed and sat attentively against the headrest, watching the two burly men in front of him.

"I don't really think this is a good idea," Silva muttered.

"Don't worry about it," said Garret, releasing the fighter and positioning himself opposite him. "Just do what you do in the ring."

Any other time, Silva would likely have kept protesting but now both he and Pitt were in Garret's domain. Those words were a command that the Russian just could not oppose despite his reservations.

"Alright..." Silva muttered. "I got to get out of these first. They restrict movement." He glanced towards Pitt. "Hear that? Agility and movement is just as important as strength."

"Yessir," Pitt said, smiling brightly, his words tumbling from his thin lips excitedly.

Silva removed his shirt and pulled off his pants to reveal the shorts he had worn the night before during his fight. Garret followed suit and he saw Pitt's and Silva's eyes widen at the sight of the wolf standing in just a bright red jockstrap. Now properly dressed, the two huge men began to circle one another, arms up and dancing back and forth with their feet barely touching the soft, carpeted floor. Their movements began to work up a sweat and they were already starting to get drenched well before Silva threw the first punch.

Garret's combat instincts took hold and he moved faster than he should have. He swept past Silva on the outside of the punching arm so that there could be no follow-up from the other arm. Suddenly beside the MMA fighter, he unleashed a quick, playful jab that lightly tapped Silva's cheek. Just as his opponent moved in to make a counter attack Garret swiftly swept his foot to Silva's left ankle, hooking it just as the fighter was about to turn and causing him to trip and fall. The moment when he became unbalanced was a significant opening for the big wolf and he charged forward, grappling with the sweaty Russian and pushing him to the ground in a tumbling mess.

Silva let out a loud 'oof' and struggled to get out from underneath Garret but the big wolf pinned down his wrists with his own and with his superior weight, kept the human down on his back. It was also no accident that their crotches had also managed to press against one another, Garrets bulge dwarfing that of the smaller human.

"You know this isn't fair, right?" Silva laughed. "Furs have their own league for a reason."

"But wouldn't that be a pretty damn good story?" countered Garret. "The champion of the human league attempting to bridge the gap between races by competing in the fur league?" He flicked an ear towards Eric Pitt. "Maybe you should bring that to the attention of your writers."

Pitt had crawled over the edge of the bed and was peering down upon them. There was no concern on his face just the light blush against his cheeks as adrenaline and arousal began seeping through his system. "I... Uh... I suppose that would make for a fine story."

Garret pushed off the ground and offered his paw to help Silva up. "And if you can beat me, Chuck, you'll be able to beat Chavez next time around."

Silva snorted softly at the nickname and brought his arms back up. "I could've beaten him."

"Of course you could've. If the mob wasn't on his mind," Garret thought quietly.

They came to another exchange of blows and again, Garret was faster than his immense bulk suggested. His big, meaty arms passed through Silva's defences and whacked the side of his head lightly. Their blows weren't strong, just playful, but it was enough to get them both to a good sweat. Garret's scent soaked into his fur and began to permeate the air. He noticed that Pitt was taking deep, heavy breaths, not-so-subtly humping the bed with every show of strength either man displayed.

Silva thought he saw an opening and charged at Garret, slamming into him and wrapping his arms around the much bigger wolf in an attempt to topple him. His leg slipped between Garret's tree-trunk thighs in an attempt to knock his footing out from underneath him but just like a tree, Garret was unmoving. With a soft chuckle, Garret turned the tables and threw Silva back to the ground and again, he was atop the professional fighter.

"Goddamnit!" Silva snarled. "It's impossible!"

"Good line," Garret said. "Would be good for the movie."

"You're three times my size. I'm not strong enough to take you down!"

Garret laughed softly. "Relax, man. We're just playing."

"I'm not!" Silva's green eyes were filled with a fire that Garret hadn't seen in the man since they met. "You're right. If I can beat you, I can beat Chavez next year!"

"Then I better stop playing, huh?" quipped Garret. Without warning, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Silva's. The man beneath him tensed for half a second before quivering. He could feel the blood rushing into Silva's dick and he heard Pitt let out a soft gasp.

As he pulled away, Silva regarded him in surprise. "What...?"

"I'm not playing anymore," Garret said softly. "So here's the stakes. You throw me to the ground and I suck your dick. If I pin you, you suck mine."

Being the man that he was, this was exactly the motivation that Silva needed to really fight seriously. "Deal."

They got up, once again squaring off against one another. Now charged more than ever, Silva unleashed a flurry of punches and light kicks, trying to find a weakness in Garret's defence. He was trying to keep the big wolf on the defensive. As tempted as he was to be the big, macho man and beat Silva into the ground, Garret stuck to his mission. Keeping his arms up, he purposefully allowed Silva to pushed him back with a flurry of blows. During one step, he felt the fighter lash out a leg and snap against his shins. Normally, the blow wouldn't have been enough to knock him to the ground but he played the part of the stunned and injured fighter and fell to the ground with a loud, earth-shattering thump.

Silva was instantly on top of him. The smaller man pinned him as best he could. It would've been simple to just stand up and have the two and a half hundred pound man hanging off him but this was exactly what he wanted. Though Silva wasn't as dumb and knew that he was purposefully letting him win.

"You can shake me off anytime you want."

"Maybe," Garret said with a smirk. "Or maybe I really just want to suck your dick."

Silva snorted softly and pushed off him. "You'll have your work cut out for you. I ain't no faggot."

Garret sat up. Even though he was on his rump, his head still rose up to about the belly button of the muscled fighter. There was some unspoken communication between them as Silva undid the ties of his shorts and pulled them down. Garret did his best not to glance towards Eric Pitt who was now sitting very upright and very alert. Silva's dick was flaccid but even soft, it was an impressive six and a half inches long. A little thin but it got Garret wondering if Silva was a grower or a shower.

He breathed on the member. Silva's dick quivered a little and the big, grey wolf took in the man's scent.

"Relax," he said softly and as his words tumbled from his lips and into Silva's ears, the MMA fighter's body lost all tension. On the bed, even Eric Pitt looked more comfortable and the disbelief in his eyes had vanished. "Let yourself go. This is happening."

This was his domain. His scent was smeared all over the place and his rank clothes were emitting his odour. This room was his and all those within his realm were compelled to obey him. He was king here. As intoxicating as that sense of power was, he had to be a _receiver_not a giver in this scenario. Maybe one day he would be able to plough Silva but today, he needed his samples.

"You like this," he said softly, running his paws up and down Silva's thighs. "This gets you going. Feel my tongue on your dick?" He gently lapped at the flaccid member and he got an affirmative moan from the Russian. "It gets you hard."

The statement was enough to get Silva's blood rushing into his member. On the bed, Pitt was likely imagining the lap of Garret's long, flat, pink tongue on his own cock and there was a sizable tent forming against the actor's slacks.

"You're going to cum for me," Garret said. "You're going to cum in my muzzle."

Silva grunted loudly and seized the back of Garret's head. He shoved his rising dick right into Garret's muzzle and began thrusting madly. Showing little to no restraint he let out a moan that quickly turned into what sounded like the needy rising whine of a dog or puppy that was desperate to be let loose. It wasn't long after that Garret could feel Silva's member rising up against his muzzle to a respectable seven inches. It seemed that the boxer was mostly a shower after all but that didn't matter to Garret. No, what he needed was quickly going to be delivered right into his waiting mouth any second if his experience had taught him anything. All of a sudden Silva snapped his head back with a groan, eyelids fluttering and letting out a ragged gasp. The MMA fighter's cum shot down Garrets muzzle in several quick busts that he eagerly drank up.

The first orgasm was always the quickest.

Garret diligently lapped up every drop and pulled his muzzle away. He was not at all surprised when he found that there was another cock waiting for him right next to Silva's. The rather impressive, girthy eight-inch member belonged to none other than Eric Pitt. As he had suspected, Eric was a natural blonde and his curly pubes were just as blonde as his hair. Garret happily wrapped his muzzle around the uncut member and happily suckled upon it. Like Silva, it only took ten seconds before Pitt's legs were shaking and his cum came rushing down the wolf's throat.

Both men looked dazedly upon Garret, dopey almost obedient smiles on their faces.

"I win..." Silva whispered softly.

"We're all winners in that scenario," Garret said with a smirk. "Ready for round two?"

Pitt laughed softly, his voice musical and bright. "I'm an actor, friend. Not a pornstar. I can't cum twice in a row."

"I'm sure you can." Garret reached forward and gripped the two cocks in front of him, preventing them from softening any more than they already have. "Get hard again." He began stroking them. Coupled with his verbal commands, both men began to moan and the blood stopped rushing away from their dicks. He pressed both cocks together, tips kissing one another. His tongue wrapped around both members like a wet, pink blanket. He slurped and slid his tongue back and forth over the lengths, making both men moan as their dicks came to full mast once more.

"Oh god..." moaned Silva. "That feels so good."

"Better than you've ever had before," Garret said, being very careful on how he phrased his words. "Kiss."

Eric's eyes immediately turned to Silva. "Wh - What...?" But despite his protests, he was already leaning forward. His lips meshed with Silva's, hands squeezing those thick pectorals while Silva's immense arms wrapped around the actor's compact form. Soon Silva's hands began to drift, one wrapping around the actor's shoulders while the other wandered south and gave Eric's firm ass a powerful squeeze. All the while, Garret was between them, slurping at their cocks.

Both men began thrusting into Garret's muzzle feverishly, their lust and passions growing. In their addled state they couldn't help the urge they felt to explore one another's bodies. Silva was experiencing contact with another man on a whole different level while Pitt had been deprived of the carnal pleasures of contact with men and only admired them from a distance due to his reputation. This one indulgence was overwhelming for them both and Garret barely had to give any more commands before both men were suddenly shooting their seed into his muzzle again. This time, with every little lap from the wolf, both men grew weaker and weaker until they both collapsed onto the bed, their dicks coming out of Garret's muzzle with a loud pop. All the while, they never once pulled their lips from one another.

They were locked in each other's embrace and while it was rather adorable, Garret still needed more. He crawled onto the bed over them, his immense form blocking out the light. Their eyes regarded him with a mixture of fear and desire.

"Suck my nipples," he commanded. "Drink."

Weakened by their multiple orgasms, neither man objected to shuffling downwards a little and latching onto each of Garret's nipples. Hot liquid poured out of both the fleshy nubs and straight down their throats. Even the faintest drop was enough to immediately spark both men awake. Their flaccid dicks immediately became painfully erect and their languid grasps around his body became strong and needy.

Eric pulled his lips away, eyes wide and desperately hungry. "I need to fuck."

"Then fuck me," Garret growled.

Pitt grabbed the back of Garret's head and pushed him directly towards his cock. Garret happily latched onto the awaiting member. At the same time, the same need was rising through Silva and the big MMA fighter shuffled out from underneath Garret. Even without looking, Garret could tell the big Russian was positioning himself behind the Agent. The impressive cock slipped between the wolf's butt cheeks, finding entrance and sliding in and out. Silva dictated the pace of the threesome. With every thrust, Garret pushed his muzzle up against Pitt's crotch. When he had fully taken the actors cock into his mouth Eric would push back, making Garret slide back down onto Silva's member.

The bed rocked and the room quickly filled with the smell of three men intertwined in sex. Both Pitt and Silva became little more than rutting animals, desperate to breed the wolf between them. Though enjoyable, Garret's dick didn't rise from his sheath. It was something he couldn't quite show either man yet. Perhaps in the future and he was certainly sure there would be a future between them.

Then both men came simultaneously. Whether it was by design or just their need, both men sprayed their seed into Garret at nearly the same time and in doing so, gave Garret everything he needed for his mission. Silva collapsed against Garret, wrapping his strong muscular arms around the bigger wolf's chest. Despite his weight, Garret was able to carry Silva across the bed and collapse beside Pitt. The actor reached forward and gently kissed Garret before reaching past him and kissing Silva as well. Their exchange was far longer than the one he shared with the wolf.

Garret let the two fall into slumber. Even a man as virile as Silva had to fall into exhaustion after ejaculating three time consecutively in less than an hour. He waited until they were fully asleep before he untangled himself from them and quickly left.

He was out of the suite and already making his way to the carpark where ECHO was waiting diligently before SABLE contacted him via text.

"You do realise you've just pulled Eric Pitt into the Conglomerate, right?"

Snickering, Garret slipped into the car and let ECHO drive him to the airport.

"You mean the closeted actor in desperate need for man-on-man contact who may or may not fall in love with the hot MMA fighter with a desperate need for human affection? Yes. I am aware."

He could almost hear _SABLE_sigh.

"You continue to surprise me, Garret. The chances of the two of them forming a relationship is all but guaranteed. Silva will hide his ties to the Conglomerate at first but then Pitt will eventually find out but they will work it out and he will be brought into the Conglomerate_. Pitt, as an actor, will enjoy working with_ Nexworks Studios_especially given that we can change his physical form to suit various roles. He will bring different bodies to bed with Silva."_

Garret shook his head. "And then he will use his popularity to bring in more to the Conglomerate_. Not to mention I now have a resource for both of them. Readily accessible too."_

"It was still a rather dangerous gamble. There was no guarantee that Pitt would react to that or Silva would even allow you to initiate."

"I've been at this for a while, SABLE. I know how people will react even if the numbers say differently. Now please tell the Colonel I'll be there soon."

The flight back to California was uneventful and by the time he landed and ECHO had driven him to the café, he was greeted by a big, burly German Shepherd wearing the tight, green military fatigues of a man in combat. Peter Crosse's bright, blue eyes shone as he and Garret hugged one another. Neither man showed any shame as their cocks rubbed against one another through their pants.

"Garret! It's been so long!" Crosse exclaimed. He was actually bigger than Garret. Came from 'serving his country' so to speak. Though in reality the Colonel worked for the Nexus Conglomerate. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me!"

"How could I ever forget about a handsome devil like you?" Garret chuckled softly, taking a seat. "You've gotten bigger."

Crosse grinned and lifted one arm, giving it a little flex. His huge bicep couldn't be contained by his shirt which might as well have been a sleeveless ensemble. A woman passing by paused and drooled a little. "Comes with the territory. When you're training grunts as big as you, to keep them in line you've got to be bigger."

"The life of an Executive. Always bossing people around." Garret leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. "Controlling minds."

Crosse waggled his eyebrows at him. "Don't worry, Garret. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't already want." The waiter approached, looking rather nervous at the sight of the two immense canines before him. Crosse ordered a cappuccino while Garret stuck with some hot chocolate.

"So what brings you to my neck of the woods?" asked the Colonel.

"The usual," Garret responded.

"Gathering samples to change someone, eh?" The German Shepherd shook his head with a chuckle. "Glad you thought of me. What are you after?"

"Discipline. The guy I'm dealing with is a little... rebellious."

The Colonel held up a paw. "Say no more. So how long do I have you?"

"I don't have to be back in class until tomorrow so..."

Crosse's eyebrows lifted. "Oooh? A teacher are you? Hot."

"High school coach."

"Even better." He licked his lips hungrily. "And I get you for the whole day. So grizzled, muscled military man and the sexy high school coach. Every gay man's wet dream."

Garret grinned broadly. "You bet your sweet ass it is. So after brunch, we hit your place?"

"Why wait?" Crosse flicked his ears towards the restrooms. "Bet I can get you off in the bathroom before our drinks arrive."

"You always were a betting man." Garret grinned savagely. "You better watch out though. I've got some new tricks."

"You Agents always do."

*******

Monday morning came far too soon. The fact that it was Monday only added to Dominic's irritability. Considering how he had already been assigned detention again only added more fuel to the fire. Perhaps it would have been better had he just stayed at home. His uncle would never have minded. Rodney was usually out of the house even before Dominic had gotten up and was off to work. He wouldn't have noticed if Dominic had stayed at home and the school didn't take attendance. Just like everyone in Blue Plateau, the school only cared about money. If it wasn't about getting it, it was about rubbing it in other people's faces.

Really, he wasn't too sure as to why it was that he was assigned detention in the first place. Sure, it was Monday and that meant that he would be more likely to run into Dominic and have another altercation. But that was almost standard procedure at this point. In a place like Avenue Heights, if someone wasn't held at knifepoint over some stupid argument it was a slow day.

What really surprised him however was the fact that Colin, the so-called 'good student' had been assigned detention as well. Dominic chuckled to himself as he started to imagine that his 'star athlete' status had finally run its course and he was starting to get dragged down with the rest of them. Those who didn't bring money or praise to the school didn't get any special treatment after all.

Because money was the only thing that anyone cared about in this world.

As they were lead towards their punishment down the poorly kempt halls of Avenue Heights with the massive Coach Holt leading the way Dominic had to wonder what he had in store for them. But as he pushed open the double doors that he had never seen before he was suddenly met with the sight of a vast area he had not expected.

"We have a gym?"

Coach Garret Holt beamed brightly as he ushered the eight other guys that had been forced to have detention alongside Colin and Dominic. "You guys never had a coach before now."

Though appearing mostly unused, the gym still looked newer than the rest of the school or at least cleaned. There weren't blacked puddles of gum on the floor. The walls weren't marked with graffiti and the windows weren't shattered beyond repair. The bleachers looked serviceable though they gave out loud creaks even without anyone standing on them. Unsurprisingly there were no pennants or trophies anywhere. What stuck out was the presence of the large boxing or wrestling - Dominic could never tell the difference - ring at the centre of the hardwood floors and the presence of several punching bags around the room.

"So what?" Dominic snarled. "You going to make us clean this shit up? If you're already flagging us for janitorial work you might as well start giving us job references now."

Some of the other guys snickered. Colin, of course, didn't laugh.

"Actually..." Holt said moving towards one of the big, bright green crates. Reaching in without even looking he then tossed something big, leathery and heavy to Dominic. The skinny student caught them with ease and soon realized that had been given a pair of boxing gloves. "I want you to get in the ring and fight."

It was Colin who voiced all of their thoughts. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope," Holt said with a soft pop of his jaw at the end of the word. "See, I'm no psychologist, but the main reason you guys are in here is because you all got into a fight. So I figure if you want to fight, fight. Just do it safely."

The thought of breaking that smug, perfect smile off Colin Meade's face was actually very enticing and he slipped on the gloves without further question. Seeing him perform the act got the others doing exactly the same thing. Oddly enough the gloves fit his hands perfectly, he had always thought that these kinds of things had different sizes. Throwing the thought out of his mind, Dominic charged into the ring. Slipping underneath the rope and onto the solid platform he struck a typical boxers pose before gesturing for Meade to get up on the stage with him.

"No way!" Meade said, shaking his head. "I'm not going to hit another student. This isn't detention."

"What's wrong, Meade?" Dominic mocked. "You chicken?" He began making chicken noises, flapping his arms like they were wings. Naturally, the rest of the detention group joined in and began making the same noises.

Holt lifted a paw and that immediately silenced everyone, even Dominic. The young rebel wasn't sure why he fell silent but he knew whatever the wolf was going to say would be good and he wanted to see Meade's reaction to defying a teacher.

"Those are my terms, Mr. Meade," Holt said. "It's either you get up there and take your punishment or we do this again and again until you do."

Meade ducked his head and grit his teeth. "Alright. Fine."

Dominic's blood was pumping as he bounced on his feet like he had seen in the scant media that covered sports. He was not dressed for the occasion but he relished the idea of slamming his fist - covered as it was - into Meade's face. His rival and constant source of aggravation came into the ring, equipped with his own boxing gloves. Holt organised the others into groups against the punching bags before moving to supervise them.

"I know you boys have a lot of aggravation to get out of your system but keep it clean, okay?" Holt said. "Nothing below the waist and keep away from the face."

That was fine. Dominic could work his way up to Meade's face on another day.

But something he forgot was that Meade was an athlete and at least twice his size. So when he started to engage, he quickly realised how superior a varsity-level sportsman was to a brawler like himself. He flung a punch forward, aiming for Meade's chest but Colin dodged the blow expertly, twisting his body without moving his legs. That kept his footing stable while Dominic was off balance from overreaching. That gave Colin an opportunity to slam a fist right into Dominic's abdomen. All the air rushed out of Dominic's lung forcefully and he doubled over and collapsed to his knees.

"N - No way that was legal..." he hissed. "Tell him, coach!"

"Running to the law now, Dominic?" countered Holt with a lifted eyebrow. "For someone who wants to stand up against 'the man', you don't hesitate to call upon them to defend you."

Dominic couldn't believe his ears. "The fuck!?"

"Get up, Zhang. You're not done."

Sneering at the wolf, he got to his feet and brought up his fists again if only to show Holt that he was not going to go running to some authority figure when he was down. He could stand on his own. He didn't need anybody.

Or so he thought.

Again, he lashed out. He swung his fists in a wild flurry, trying to hit Meade but the ebony-skinned athlete was incredibly fast and agile. Meade danced and skipped around him, forcing him to twist after him. His own feet got tangled underneath him and he toppled to the ground without Meade even laying a hand on him. He caught sight of the others caught in this bizarre form of detention watching him keenly. The smug looks on their faces like they could do any better. They were all looking down on him.

"Choose a foot," Holt instructed. "Use that as your pivot. Don't move it."

"I don't need your fucking help!" Dominic sneered and scrambled to his feet. Though he spat at the Coach, after his previous experience, the advice was actually sound. He was right-handed and chose his right foot to keep himself stable. As he swung at Meade again, he kept his right planted and turned after Meade who quickly realised that he couldn't keep circling Dominic forever.

Colin finally stood still and Dominic realised that it took more energy to dodge his blows than for him to keep the smug prick moving. Though he may not have been an athlete, he had successfully managed to wear Meade down - at least a little. With a smirk, he unleashed a left jab followed quickly by a right in an attempt to catch Meade off-guard. Colin blocked both blows with raised elbows and then snapped a straight punch right against Dominic's chest with enough force to cause him to stagger back and fall against the ropes.

He snarled. "Any more advice, Coach?" he sneered sarcastically at Holt.

"The game doesn't end when your punches land," answered the wolf. "Keep aware. Look for weaknesses. Stay calm. And remember your feet. Don't be afraid to move."

"You just told me to use one of my feet as a fucking pivot!"

"And now I'm telling you to move that pivot. You can't win a fight in the same place for the entire match."

Growling, Colin pushed off the ropes and positioned himself against Meade again. He unleashed a quick three-combo jab. Colin blocked all three easily enough and immediately made to counter. Time seemed to slow for Dominic as he saw that right straight coming right at his chest. He moved to his right, moving outside of Colin's reach and slipped an arm beneath Colin's guard.

Wham!

Colin's eyes bulged as the covered fist slammed against his abdominals.

"Ha! Take that fucker!" Dominic exclaimed.

"Don't celebrate too soon!" Holt barked.

Too late did he realise that he may have stunned Colin but it was a momentary victory. Colin immediately disengaged and moved behind him. Three heavy blows fell against his back, sending him tumbling into the ground.

"Fuck!" he shouted.

"Okay, that's enough," Holt said, clapping his paws. "Fletcher. Torres. In the ring."

Dominic was a dazed from the onslaught and vaguely remembered staggering out of the ring while another two guys hopped in. He didn't remember being led into the adjacent locker rooms or the office attached to the locker room that smelled distinctly of sweaty canine. Reality came crashing back to him when something warm was pressed up against his temples and the wave of nausea and dizziness began to fade. Holt was crouching right next to him applying a wet cloth that stank of some minty solution against his temple.

"What is this shit...?" he grumbled.

"Hold it right there," Holt said and Dominic held the cloth. "It'll help with the hit."

"I just fell."

"You fell and hit your head on the floor. It bounced back up. Trust me, that's nothing to just walk off."

He sighed heavily and turned to regard the office. Having never been into any sports of the sort, he had never been to this area of the high school. Colin probably frequented it. The presence of workout equipment really wasn't that surprising but the full bookshelf with thick tomes on genetics, technical journals and medicine was a surprise. Holt had a big desk at the far end of the room but despite its large, metal frame, it looked small compared to the big wolf.

"Pull up your shirt."

The request surprised him. "Why the fuck would I do that!?"

Holt pointed at the metal-studded jacket he wore. "You just took several blows with those things sticking out of your clothes. I'm sure Colin's fists were cushioned from the blow but you may not be so lucky. Pull off your shirt."

Dominic glanced at his jacket and was now just starting to realising the pain that was jamming into his ribs and across his back. With a wince, he shrugged off his jacket and then slipped off his shirt. Before he even looked, he could already feel the ugly, purple welts across his chest and back. Even Holt grimaced at their sight.

"None of this would've happened if you hadn't thrown us in the fucking ring," he growled.

"I wouldn't have thrown you in the ring if you weren't so eager to fight," Holt countered coolly. The wolf picked up another rag and applied some of that strange, mint-smelling liquid onto it before carrying it over to Dominic. "Why are you and Meade at each other's throats all the time?"

"Are you kidding me?" Dominic exclaimed but the sudden exclamation made his head spin. "Meade is a fucking prick! All popular and sporty and shit!"

"Uh-huh," answered Holt dismissively as he applied the warm cloth against the bruises on Dominic's chest. "And you're the guy living in a huge penthouse suite in the middle of the city away from the muck and mire yet you choose to walk in the dredges like the rest of us."

He was instantly on the defensive. "Hey! I keep it real! And how do you know where I live?"

Holt gave him an exasperated stare. "Kid, I work for your school. We have this stuff on file. If a kid doesn't come to school or goes missing, we know where to go first."

Of course. That was natural. School was just another sort of prison and when you weren't in the classrooms which were just glorified jail cells, you were at home which was the equivalent of house arrest. "Why do you even care? And don't give me the bullshit about looking out for my future or something. We both know this is just a job to you."

The big wolf straightened and moved behind Dominic, gently applying the warm rag against the bruises on his back. "Yeah. This is a job. My job is to take care of you. That goes beyond your education. Once you graduate, I'm responsible for the path I put you on. Whether other coaches realise it or not in the world, they make an impact on the lives of the kids they teach. Some are just out there to win that pennant or trophy and push their kids to become obsessive morons who will be forever stuck in their high school glory days. They fill their teams' heads with dreams of playing professionally and force them to have this tunnel vision about 'the game' only to have everything shatter when reality sets in. Sports isn't everything."

That was actually a surprise coming from someone as big and muscly as Holt. "But you -"

"Taking care of myself is different from making someone fanatical about what is essentially a game. You know all those religious nuts you hear about?"

"Yeah?"

"Well some coaches out there make sports their religion and they try to convert anyone else around them as if their playbook is their Holy Bible."

Dominic snickered. "Sports drinks and protein shakes their bread and wine."

"Matches their masses."

"And away games like missionary missions."

"You're getting it." Holt said, gently slapping Dominic's cheek from behind. "I'm not like that. You don't like to play sports. Fine. But I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure you at least get a good education and a solid foundation before you leave these walls."

Dominic snorted softly. "Well sorry to disappoint you, but you've got a long way to go."

"Give me a chance. You're not opposed to change. Tell me why you chose this path."

He rolled his eyes. Though he was adverse to spilling his guts to someone who had thrown him in a ring to get beaten up, Coach Holt actually seemed nice. Certainly a breath of fresh air in an education system that had all but given up on him.

"Have you ever been given up on before you were even given a chance?" Dominic answered with a scowl.

"Can't say I have. I've always had someone watching my back."

Of course he did. Someone as bright, cheery and full of hope like Garret Holt could only have experience the 'good side' of the tracks. "Well that's what happened to me. Parents shipped me off here to be with my 'successful uncle'. I never get any letters, emails or any contact with them. Uncle is always too busy to even raise me so he just throws money my way and tells me to do whatever I want. School doesn't give a shit what I do and barely teaches us anything. Most of the teachers just come in and fall asleep by mid-afternoon."

"Ever thought your parents wanted to just give you a better life and your uncle is working himself hard to make sure you have a comfortable life?"

"Bullshit." Dominic got up furiously. "If my parents cared, they'd said something. If my uncle wanted to raise me, he would've taken more of an interest. I'm alone. Always have been."

A gentle paw fell on his shoulder.

"Are you sure you're alone or are you just fighting to keep everyone away?"

Dominic pulled himself away from Holt and snarled at him. "Don't try you sappy shit on me. I ain't falling for it."

Holt crossed his arms sternly. "Dominic. Just like when you were out there in the ring, you've got to be more observant. There are nuances in people's lives and actions that you're missing. People care a lot more than you give them credit for but you're too busy trying to be a badass that you don't see it."

"And you're the expert?" Dominic rolled his eyes and stormed for the door. "I'm out of here."

"Did you notice your injuries are all gone?"

The words made him pause and he immediately glanced down at his chest. All the bruising was gone. "What the fuck?"

"Just one of the things you've missed in life, Dominic," Holt said gravely. "When you stop thinking the world sees you as Public Enemy #1, maybe then you'll realise exactly what you want to be when you grow up. Not everyone is an enemy. Even the guy standing in the ring with you."

******

Holt was a little disappointed both in himself and Dominic's progress. That kid was a tough nut to crack. Very set in his ways but now, he had a clear indication of why. Dominic saw everyone as his enemy; his parents, his uncle, Meade and even the pleasant lupine coach that had tried to extend a welcoming paw to a better future. Clearly, Garret couldn't approach this like his previous assignment.

No, this time he had to work it from a different angle.

Dominic was a structure; a crooked, hateful structure. Bringing it down from the top would take too long and likely cause a lot of collateral damage. This time, he had to strike from the ground up; hit the foundations. But he also had to be very careful. Bringing the entire building down upon itself would not result in a very happy Dominic.

So after detention was over, he waited until the sun had fully set before making his way to the apartment building that the Zhangs lived in. It didn't take much effort to sweep past the receptionist - all he had to do was charm her and flex a little - and he was on his way to the penthouse suite. ROGUE had confirmed that Rodney Zhang was now in the building and Dominic had left. He approached the door into the large apartment and hit the buzzer.

A hurried, stressed voice answered quickly after. "Hi. Sorry. Don't mean to be rude but please make this quick. I have a meeting in thirty minutes."

Poor guy. Working so late.

"Hello Mr. Zhang? My name is Garret Holt. I'm the coach at Avenue Heights and I wanted to talk to you about your nephew, Dominic. If I could just use those thirty minutes of your time...?"

There was a ragged sigh from the other side of the intercom. "Alright. Sure. Come in."

The door buzzed and Garret pushed it open. Though he had seen the schematics for the place thanks to ROGUE_and _SABLE, he was still very impressed by his clean and lavished surroundings. The floors were perfectly polished. The furniture was perfectly set and matched the room. A big TV hung on the wall with a curved screen. Every room seemed to have a floor-to-ceiling window that allowed a perfect view of the twinkling lights of the city. A high ceiling kept a sense of roominess and space that only the rich could afford.

But luxury came at a price and when Rodney Zhang came around the corner from what was the study, Garret immediately pitied him. Rodney was about 5'7'' but only because he was permanently hunched over. Thick glasses from years spending in front of a computer screen hung on his weathered and sunken features. Though possessing a full head of hair, his black, messy mop was dusted with so much grey that he almost looked like a porcupine. Arms as limp and skinny as soggy spaghetti barely rose up into a wave. His collared shirt and slacks looked like they were wearing him.

"Hi," Rodney said, managing a shaky smile. "I'm Rodney Zhang. Dominic's legal guardian." Before Garret could say anything, Rodney was blurting out excuses. "I'm sorry for Dominic's behaviour. He's a good kid, really. Just had a hard life, you know? I wanted to send him to a better school but unfortunately Avenue Heights was the best I could afford."

Garret glanced around the apartment. "You'll excuse me for saying so, Mr. Zhang, but given your living standards don't you think you could've cut back on rent and maybe sent him elsewhere?"

The man grimaced. "Dominic has had too many bad changes in his life already. He moved all the way from China here because of his parents and had to live with me. I wasn't prepared to raise a kid. I wanted this place to be a sanctuary from the harshness of the city. He was crying the whole way when he flew over here but when he saw this place, his eyes glimmered with joy and hope. I didn't want to take that away from him."

"I see." Garret pointed towards the kitchen with a look of concern on his face. "Can I get you something to drink? Your voice is sort of going south..."

Rodney gave him a lopsided smile. "Please. You are my guest. I'll get it myself."

He raised a paw and stopped Rodney from moving. "No. It's alright. I'm taking up your time. Least I could do. You take a seat. Kitchen is this way, right?"

"Yes. Yes thanks."

Garret moved into the kitchen towards the refrigerator which was quite a hi-tech piece of technology. It had an icemaker and even an electronic display that could double as a TV. He pulled it open and picked up some water. After fetching a glass, he poured it for Rodney. As soon as it was filled, however, he gently tapped the still surface. Like he had just dumped some white powder into the water, an opaque white cloud curled through the clear liquid. Its consistency became a little thicker but still very fluid. To the casual observer, it had become a glass of milk but Garret knew it was something much more.

He brought the glass of 'milk' back to the open lounge room where Rodney was sitting on the couch constantly tapping his foot and watching the clock. Stress had aged this poor man well beyond his years. Garret felt more inclined to help him for more than just his mission. The big wolf parked himself beside Rodney, the couch groaning beneath his immense weight, and offered the hardworking man the glass.

"Milk?" Rodney asked.

"I find it's the best thing to soothe a sore throat," he lied.

Shrugging, Rodney took a sip to taste it. Once he was satisfied, he immediately began to drink the rest, downing the contents of the drink in a rush.

"Thank you," Rodney said, setting the glass down on the coffee table. Then he hesitated, grabbed a coaster and placed it beneath the glass. "Now about Dominic..."

"Let's talk about you," Garret interrupted. "Why did you agree to take in Dominic?"

Rodney cast his gaze down. "I know what you're thinking. You believe in nurture and not nature. Dominic would never have turned out the way he did if I had been a more attentive parent." He sighed heavily. "His mother and father were going through a rough patch. His mother wanted to have a second child but his father was too focused on his career. Honestly, my brother is obsessed with station and how people perceive him. The only reason he married and had Dominic was because all his other friends were getting married and having kids."

Garret kept his features still but watched Rodney closely.

"Naturally, when Cameron was backed into a corner with the threat of divorce, he didn't want rumours to start flying about," Rodney continued. "So kept it as quiet as possible. He and his wife both agreed that Dominic should be sent somewhere else. Cameron for the sake of getting rid of him and his 'trauma' not affecting his image while Lilliana genuinely cared for her son and wanted him sent somewhere else where he wouldn't grow up in a broken family."

"So they sent him to you," Garret concluded. "Still doesn't answer why you decided to take him in."

Rodney let out a bitter laugh, his sunken eyes still cast down. "I guess work ethic flows in our blood. I was confident that with all the money I'm making and my success, I could look after Dominic. I honestly thought it'd just be for a few months until Lilliana and Cameron sorted out the divorce but as it turns out, Lilliana fled the country and Cameron moved to New York to head his own company."

Garret reeled in surprise. "Dominic's father is in the US?" He mentally kicked himself for not looking that up earlier.

"Yeah. Just look in some economy magazine for Cameron Zhang and you'll probably find some reference to him."

"And he's never made any effort to contact either of you?"

Rodney shook his head. "As far as he's concerned, he has no son. Somehow, he knows what Dominic has been up to and is... 'disgusted' by what he's seen. He blames me, of course."

Garret growled softly. "Now that's just unfair. It should be his responsibility to raise his kid. He's putting undue stress on you. I mean look at your hair!" He gently stroked Rodney's grey-specked hair. "What are you? Thirty?"

"Thirty-two, yeah," Rodney sighed. "I've been working myself into the ground to provide for Dominic. By the time I even considered moving out into something a little more modest, Dominic had hit this rebellious phase of his and I'm afraid that if we move, he'll hate me all the more." He lifted his brown eyes towards Garret. "You see why I'm stuck?"

"Then what's your plan? Just hope that Dominic will move out on his own? Then what? You know his prospects for college are rather grim."

The severely aged Asian man didn't have the strength to look up. "I... I've honestly never thought that far ahead."

The big, grey wolf shuffled closer to Rodney. He draped his arm across the back of the couch so that it was rested right behind Rodney. With his other paw, he reached for the empty glass of milk. "You know that's less than a year away, right?"

His words cut deep into Rodney and the stressed businessman turned away. "I know. Time just flies by for me. I blinked and suddenly I was missing Dominic's tenth birthday because I was closing a deal in Japan. I turn around and suddenly, he's a pre-teen asking me how his body worked. I look up and suddenly he's all decked out in leather and running around with a gang. I don't have the authority to tell him to do anything else. I mean, it's not like I'm his father... nor have I raised him so..."

Though it was a tight fit, Garret managed to slip the glass beneath his shirt and press it against his left nipple. Pure, unfiltered juice jumped from his nipple and straight into the glass. The noise of liquid filling the container was muffled by his shirt and drowned by his voice. "Why are you so busy all the time? I understand you wanting to provide the best for Dominic and the situation demanding overtime but given how hard you work, you should have a cushiony managerial job by now."

Another bitter laugh left Rodney's lips and he kept his gaze out the window into the vast city. "Corporate America is full of cutthroats and backstabbers. The moment you do something, there's always someone else there ready to take credit. I used to be amazing at it. It's how I got all this." He waved a hand vaguely around him. "But when Dominic came into the picture, I found myself having to work a little harder instead of smarter. I became one of the grunts instead of the leaders."

As he turned to Garret, the lupine coach quickly pulled the glass out from underneath his shirt and tapped his finger against the surface of the minty, green liquid. Immediately, the fluid began to turn milky white. By the time Rodney had fully turned to him, Garret was offering him a glass of the same 'milk' as before. Rodney didn't question the offer and drained the glass before continuing.

"Leaders in America don't work overtime," Rodney muttered, setting the glass down. "But I had to if I wanted to keep Dominic comfortable. Now I'm wondering if that was even the best choice for my so - I mean - my nephew."

Garret inclined his head to the side slightly. "Okay, I think I've got a good grasp of the situation." He pressed a paw against his chest. "And I want to help you."

"I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Holt. But you can't undo years of neglect and a terrible history."

A small, predatory smile crossed the wolf's muzzle. "I beg to differ," he whispered softly. Then louder, he said, "Give me your feet."

Rodney regarded him quizzical. "I beg your pardon."

"Something I noticed. You're here at home, working overtime and yet you're still dressed in 'business casual' clothes and even still have your goddamn shoes on." He pointed at the polished, black formal shoes that wrapped around Rodney's feet. "What you need is a second to relax. I find that a good foot massage is a good way to get the rest of your body to relax. So give me your foot. I'm giving you a foot massage."

The overworked businessman balked. "Mr. Holt! This is highly irregular!"

"Yeah but you're not going to say 'no'," Garret answered, grabbing Rodney's thigh and pulling it up against his lap. He quickly undid Rodney's shoelaces and pulled the shoe off. Beneath was a foot, covered in sweat and a grey sock. Rodney's foot was a little small for a man his age. Garret could have grasped it entirely in one paw. He made no comment on it and placed one paw against the base of his foot and the other wrapped around his ankle.

"Mr. Holt -" Rodney began but after having drunk the corruptive fluids of Garret's 'milk', that was the limit of his resistance as Garret began to gently knead the offered limb with his large fingers. "Oh... Oh!" Rodney moaned softly and lay back against the couch. "Oooooh..."

"See?" Garret said gently, his voice soft, soothing and comforting. "Isn't that so much better?"

"Uh-huh..."

Years of exhausting late nights, aggravating weekends, stressful business trips and backstabbing co-workers began to fade away. Rodney could not explain what was happening but with every light press the big wolf gave to is tired feet along with his kind and caring expression, the vice-like grip around his heart that was slowly squeezing the life out of him blurred into nothingness. It was like each of Garret's fingers was slowly pushing all the pressure from his heels, up the soles of his feet, across the arches and then to the tips of his toes. There was a soft popping noise as Garret pulled at his toes. The sensation came with a rippling sense of pleasure that washed across his entire body.

"That feels _so_good..." Rodney moaned.

"I'll bet," Garret chuckled softly. "So what's the problem in the office? Too much work and too little time?"

"Pretty much," moaned Rodney, his eyes glazing over. His eyes were directed straight at Garret but they were not truly seeing him. "Um... I guess I just became everyone else's stepping stone. They knew they could just throw everything at me and I'd do it. I couldn't say 'no' anymore."

Rodney was slowly becoming more and more relaxed. Every muscle in his body lost their tension. Aching bones eased and what tension he held in his shoulders vanished. The constant ticking of the clock and the nagging need to attend a meeting faded from his mind. His grip of his own physical form faded and he swam in a sea of pleasant bliss emanating the gentle paws of the wolf massaging his feet.

That was the window Garret was hoping for. His fingers glided over Rodney's foot almost like the flesh was like putty. As he moved his fingers, the pale skin beneath the socks began to move with him. He kneaded the feet upwards, pushing more and more towards the stressed businessman's toes. Inch by inch, he sculpted the foot. Even as pushed more and more mass towards Rodney's toes, it seemed like there was more pouring in from some unknown source to keep the rest of his foot relatively the same. The soles widened, the arches quickly following suit. Sharp points began to emerge from the tips of his toes, straining against the grey fabric. His middle toe in particular began pushing out farther than the rest, growing bigger and thicker than its other brothers.

"Close your eyes," Garret said in his soothing, hypnotic voice. "Lie back. Let me do all the work."

Rodney could only manage a soft moan and obeyed. He rested back against the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. There was some hesitation as his eyelids grew heavy but he could not resist the lulling calm that came with the desire to close his eyes. He continued to moan as Garret kept massaging his foot. Even when the big, black middle claw pierced the tips of his sock, he didn't make a sound except for pleasured groans.

Garret smiled to himself as the sight of the mutated foot. With careful paws of his own, he sculpted the foot, pushing it further upwards and outwards. The middle toe became the dominant feature with a large, black claw jutting from the tip. The others continues to grow as well but at a slower rate. They all sported black claws. Inch by inch, the foot grew bigger and bigger, emerging from the torn fabric of the sock like a majestic flower blooming out of its bud. Light, golden fur began to race across the foot while leathery paw pads began to grew beneath Garret's fingers.

"Big sexy guys like you," Garret said softly, "I find it hard to believe that you'd be just a pencil pusher. You're a manager, aren't you?"

"Well yeah..." Rodney murmured. "But... Oooh..."

Garret rested the transformed foot down against his lap, strategically letting the toes brush against his pectorals. He reached for the other foot and began working on it too and thus disrupting any protests Rodney may have had.

"You command your own division, don't you?"

"No... I..."

He pressed down on the foot a little harder causing Rodney to moan softly and his toes to curl as they burst from his socks.

The changing businessman could only sigh. "Yeah... Of course... I'm a senior partner. Been at that job for a while... Do a good job."

"Makes sense given you can afford this place, take care of Dominic and all that," Garret said slyly. "You work out." It was a statement, not a question.

"What? I don't have..."

Garret gently moved his paws up from the changed foot up to Rodney's calves, kneading the soft muscle beneath. As he did so, the golden-blonde fur rushed up from Rodney's ankles and up the limb, completely consuming the curly, black hairs that covered it. Soft, almost spongy muscle hardened into thick, juicy cords. Calves that once could be wrapped easily in one of Garret's mighty paws began resisting the grip of the wolf. Rodney's clawed toes curled in ecstasy. Muscles pushed up against Holt's paws, enlarging and inflating with mass.. The bones crackled and grew. The rims of Rodney's black slacks slipped further and further away from his feet before getting 'stuck' about halfway up his calves. Thick veins wound up from the back the limb, sweeping over the massive mountainous calves and curling downwards towards the big, engorged feet. They stopped just short of his toes which were already gravitating towards Garret's pectorals just like the first foot that had been transformed. Even without the coach's prompting, Rodney's other calf have already transformed. Garret could feel the strength of the muscles beneath the lewd probing of the big toe between his engorged pectorals.

"I work out..." mumbled Rodney.

"Never skip out on legs day," Garret prompted.

"Hell no. My legs are my best features!"

Grinning to himself, Garret ran his fingers further up Rodney's legs. The golden fur was just a second away from the trail he drew. The carpet of short fur swept over Rodney's knee, reinforcing the bone and tendons. The veins were just behind the fur and followed them up Rodney's thighs. Already strained by his engorged calves, the fabric groaned as the huge quads and bulging hamstrings pressed at them from within. Even with the fabric over it, every muscle group became clearly defined until there was an audible rip. The slacks tore at the seams leaving Rodney to gasp.

"Oh fuck... what...?" began half-dazed businessman.

Garret had to act quickly. "Bro, why are you even bothering with such small clothing? You weren't that small for years. I know you like showing off your legs but come on, man."

Rodney slumped back against the sofa, eyes half-closed as a goofy smile crossed his feature. "I know... I just like... like bursting out of my clothes."

"Yeah. You just love splurging on some skinny ass jeans so you can shred them with a flex."

"Or getting tight shirts and ripping them right down the middle with a pec bounce..." added Rodney. He moaned softly, body going almost completely limp as his legs grew to dwarf the rest of his body.

"Such a show off. Not that I can blame you. That ass is fucking sweet."

Rodney could only moan as the golden fur washed over his skinny rear. Even without any prompting, the businessman turned on his stomach, exposing his butt to Garret. The wolf happily ran his paws over the seat of his pants with the white briefs beneath barely concealed by the remnants of his slacks. Just a few 'professional' bits of kneading and the glutes beneath his paws were already rising up like two golden buns in the oven. As they grew to match with Rodney's herculean thighs a rip right down the middle of his pants revealed the straining briefs beneath. Not wanting to neglect a single part of the growing man, Garret slid his hand down Rodney's briefs until he came upon the growing nub at the base of his spine.

With every little squeeze from Garret, that lump grew longer and longer, developing a little point that slipped beneath the bands of Rodney's underwear. The fleshy length slipped between his ass cheeks like a hungry snake before riding down the curves of his own ass to the edges of his briefs and coming out from the left rim. Then it grew thicker rapidly and with a gasp, the huge tail burst outwards, ripping the remnants of any legwear that Rodney may have had in two and allowing the long, muscular tail to be free.

Satisfied with the transformation, Garret stood.

"Let's go find you something more fitting."

"Why...?" Rodney moaned lazily. "I'm at home... I can wear whatever I want."

"But you're only in your early thirties. You shouldn't be spending a single night at home. Let's go to your room and find you something hot to wear for a night out."

"It's a Monday."

"So?"

Without a need for further prompting, Rodney swung his huge legs around and sprang to his feet. He looked a little ridiculous for the moment with his partially changed body. With his legs and feet out of proportion with the rest of his body, paired with the massive tail he now sported he almost looked cartoonish. The fact that the golden fur that had started to cover his body against the greying hair on his head only made the changes stand out more. Garret noted as well that the man's genitals remained relatively untouched but he knew that would change soon.

Rodney headed straight towards his bedroom with Garret right behind. There was a confidence in his stride that wasn't there before and he was even standing up straight, adding to his already impressive 6'5'' height. When they got to the room, Rodney immediately dove for his walking closet complete with full-body mirror. Garret kept his peace at the sight of all the suits and formal shirts without any signs of anything even remotely 'casual'.

"I... What do I wear...?" Rodney asked.

Garret moved behind Rodney and gently turned him to face the mirror. He began to knead the man's shoulders and arms lightly. "What did you say about loving it when you tear out of your clothes?"

Rodney grinned broadly and let out a soft moan. It was no surprise that he was already painfully hard, his 6-inch dick throbbing and dripping precum all over the floor. His breathing grew heavier and heavier and with each breath, his chest rapidly expanded. The white, striped shirt filled up with the hard definition of meticulously maintained muscles. What had once been like a curtain draped over a skinny frame became more like a thin film barely able to contain the beast beneath. Slumped, deflated shoulders broadened and filled out to became enormous bowling balls. The shirts rims began to ride up from where they hung over his waist, pulled upwards by his increasing height and broadening back. His belly button was revealed and the mirror showed it slowly sinking beneath the folds of washboard abdominals.

The businessman grunted with discomfort, rolling his shoulders whilst his arms ballooned out and strained the fabric. Garret happily dug his claws into the cloth just around the shoulders and tore the sleeves right off the shirt. Rodney didn't even blink and immediately lifted his huge, muscular arms into the air, flexing them to spur their grown even more. The tightening of his arms also causing his chest muscles to flex and swell with power. Subconsciously or not, his blossoming pectorals sent the buttons of his collared shirt flying with audible pops. Like two mountains hidden under a thin curtain his chiselled pectorals sprang forth and showed off his immense, sinewy cleavage right down the middle of his torso leading to the rigid abdominals. Even as the soft, golden fur spread rapidly across his chest, they did nothing to hide his muscled frame. Unlike the rest of his body, the fur over his chest was a lighter shade of gold, almost tan in colour, compared to the rest of his body. His nipples became big black discs with large, fleshy protrusions just begging to be suckled upon.

Bones crackled loudly. His fingers jerked back and forth, sending waves of pleasure and pain shooting through his body and causing is eyes to flutter beneath their lids. Black pawpads that matched the ones on his enlarged feet grew across his palms and fingertips. His fingers grew bigger, thicker, built for grabbing heavy weights and lifting them to stress his gargantuan muscles. They seemed to move and consume his nails but those very same nails blackened and grew longer into claws. Their roots vanished into the golden fur of his fingers but their sharp, curved edges remained exposed.

The golden fur stopped short just at his collarbone leaving the skinny, weathered human head sitting atop the body of a massive marsupial.

"Busting out of my clothes," Rodney murmured drowsily. "Feels so fucking good. I just love flexing for chicks..."

"Chicks?" Garret asked. "Dudes are more your thing. But then again, a hole is a hole."

"Dudes...?"

Before Rodney could further protest, something long, hot and slimy pushed into his ass and filled him with a strange and yet pleasurably familiar sensation. From behind him, Garret and pulled down his gym shorts just enough to expose his sheath. The furry tube had pulled back to reveal the long piece of bright red flesh that Garret was sporting. It was unlike any other kind of penis on this world; long, covered in a consistent coating of precum and curling and twisting more like a tentacle than an erect organ made for breeding. It extended over six feet long, curling around Rodney's long tail before sliding in between those hard ass cheeks and penetrating the man's virgin ass.

"Yeah," Garret cooed softly, his huge paws wrapping around Rodney's muscled chest and running over those washboard abs. "I've seen you with guys and girls alike. More guys though. They know what a big, hunk like you likes." He grunted softly and thrust his hips. "Judging by how loose you are, you're no stranger to being ploughed."

Rodney moaned, tilting his head back and with the back of his head pressing up against his mountainous traps. The cry grew deeper, dropping an entire octave in just a second. The gold and cream fur swept up from his neck, thick cords springing up against his Adam's Apple which became so pronounced it that there was no denying he was a man. The widening neck almost melded completely with his shoulders. With the moan rising from his lips, his jaw shot forward into a very distinct, long muzzle. Twin forces pushed out from deep within his skull, pressing his nose forward while also pushing his ears back. Though there was a sense of pain, it was akin to his dick filling with blood. The wash of fur over his features smoothened the transition.

The businessman blinked several times before bringing his gaze to his own reflection. The sharp but weary gaze of a man who had been overworked and burdened by the responsibility of raising a child that was not his own had faded. His bright brown - almost amber - eyes were afire with passion, desire, lust and tempered by a background in partying and an easy-going attitude.

He grunted softly as his huge paws instinctively went towards his already erect dick. The six inch member was easily clasped in his hand but it felt wrong. The length of the member could not satisfy or match the need that burned inside of him. As Garret's serpentine member coiled inside of him, his cock was filled with the familiar fiery need to grow bigger and prepare to spill his seed. It swelled in his paw, quickly filling his giant palms and pushing his fingers apart. Garret's thrusts grew rather rhythmic and with each thrust, his cock grew outwards, lengthening until it poked out from the clasp of his fingers like it was emerging from his furry sheath all over again. The member maintained its human-like head but it was a distinct, raw pink in colour with thick veins running up and down its length.

Rodney's moans grew louder and louder and he quickly bucked his own hips in tandem with Garret's. With each thrust, his dick rose, passing his belly button and coming to just kiss the base of his pectorals. With a lusty moan, Rodney's orange-sized balls jostled and unleashed the torrent of seed that it had been storing for that very moment. Rodney's seed shot out with one powerful blast, splattering his muzzle. The rush of chemicals into his addled brain caused him to mostly ignore the blast and focus only on the wash of warmth and arousal that stemmed from his dick. Though he instinctively lapped at the white goo, he mostly remained focused on his reflection; on the huge, nine foot monster of a kangaroo standing in the mirror with a monstrous dick in one paw. His cum continued to pump out of his titanic member, dribbling out of the tip in a consistent flow. Each pump was another blast of pleasure that washed away the old Rodney Zhang and ushered in the new.

The newly made roo let out a gasp as the thick, prehensile member slipped out of him and the wolf - who was about two feet shorter than him - patted his shoulder, waking him from his stupor.

"Looks like you're ready to hit the town, Rod."

Rod. That's what all his friends and the guys down at the club called him. He didn't introduce himself as 'Rod' to any women he picked up. That was just a little too aggressive. He would let them figure it out themselves. Just one of the many 'mysteries' that he put about himself that intrigued the people that he lured into his bed.

He looked at his reflection and then the assortment of clothes around him. To his right were the business suits that he wore as part of his job as a senior partner of the firm. But to his left were the hot pants, shirts with a plunging neckline and tight sweaters for the colder months that still showed off his immense muscle structure. Tonight would be a good night to go out with his denim short-shorts with the words 'Pay to Play' across the rear. He was in the mood for some cock this evening.

But then again, there was large piece of meat right behind him.

"Why do I have to go out?" rumbled the roo, turning around and flashing Garret a charming smile. "I thought you wanted to talk about my nephew."

"I think we covered everything we needed to," Garret said evasively, patting Rodney's massive pectoral.

"Oh, I think there's still a lot we can discuss." Rod leaned forward, gently breathing onto Garret's neck while his muzzle hovered over those large, pointed ears. "Like what he'd look like between you and me, for instance."

"You think about that sort of thing?"

"Sure. You'd be crazy not too. Hot, trim MMA fighter like him...?"

Garret Holt smiled at that and reached down to cup Rodney's balls. "Then let's discuss this in a more horizontal position."

*******

Dominic had gotten home late, about 1 AM in the morning, and though he hated school, he didn't want to get in trouble with any truant officers if he didn't show up. So he had set an alarm and tried his best to get some sleep. Unfortunately, there were some rather loud noises coming from his uncle's bedroom during the night that constantly kept waking him. When 7 AM finally came around, he found himself weary, tired and a little frustrated. It was with this grumpy disposition did he finally drag himself out of bed and stumble out of his large room. Unbeknownst to him in his sleep deprived state, he failed to notice that the heavy metal band posters that had once covered his room had been changed into posters showing famous MMA fighters in various poses of victory. His satanic shrine had even mysteriously disappeared.

As he stepped out of his room he suddenly noticed the smell of breakfast pouring out of the kitchen. That was something that he hadn't smelled in years. Normally his uncle would have woken up, been out the door before six in the morning and left him alone. He hadn't cooked for him sense he was still in elementary school. Suddenly feeling much more awake he rounded the corner into the kitchen before stopping dead in his tracks once more. Standing in his kitchen, wearing next to nothing at all with their thick furry ass on full display stood a familiar lupine. The behemoth of a wolf practically overtook the size of the stove itself, yet he seemed so cheerful as he wagged his tail and hummed a nameless tune while casually flipping pancakes in the air.

"The fuck are you doing here!?" he exclaimed.

Coach Garret Holt turned around with one blonde eyebrow raised. He was completely shirtless, giving Dominic a clear view of his enormous chiselled chest. Setting the pan down for a moment the coach blushed, rubbing his hand across the light dusting of blonde hairs that covered his chest. All while forgetting that the only clothing he was wearing was a bright red jockstrap that left very little to the imagination about what the wolf was packing.

"Good morning to you too, Dom," Holt said cheerily.

"Don't call me that," he snarled back. "Only my friends call me that."

"I -"

Before Garret could continue, the sound of large, loud feet came from Rodney Zhang's room and Dominic turned in time to see a huge kangaroo emerge from his uncle's bedroom. His jaw dropped wide open at the sight of the beast. Thankfully their high ceilings were just tall enough to accommodate the enormous marsupial's height even with those long, radar dish ears erect. The beast was even bigger than Garret Holt towering a little past night feet tall and brimming with huge, lean muscle. The kangaroo's upper body however didn't seem to have the same network of veins that always covered these types of well built people. His feet however were another story entirely, almost looking like a pair of thick tree trunks covered in vines that lead down to his two massive feet.

"Hey kiddo," the roo greeted. He wasn't dressed in anything at all revealing his plump, furry sheath that sat atop a pair of spherical, cream-coloured, furry balls. The smell of scented musk wafted off him indicating that he had just come out of the shower. "You look tired. Out late?"

"Yeah. You aren't?" Dominic surprised even himself with the question. For some reason, he expected his uncle to be spending the night at someone else's place. Though it was only a Tuesday, it wasn't too strange for Rodney Zhang to have slept with someone, spent the night at their place, rush home, take a shower and then head off to work. That seemed like a very strange assumption to Dominic but those were the facts... weren't they?

Rodney moved up behind Garret and squeezed the wolf's tight rump. "Yeah well this hot piece of ass came knocking at my door last night so who was I to refuse?"

"Oh god, Rod... TMI..." Dominic said with a cringe. Since when had he called his uncle 'Rod'? When was the last time they actually talked?

"For what it's worth," Garret Holt said with a smirk. "I came here looking to speak to your uncle about what happened yesterday with Colin Meade."

"And the fact that you're going to start up the Fight Club," said Rodney with a sly wink. "Oh and you're signing up too, Dom."

There was a part of Dominic that was instantly repulsed at the idea of staying behind at school to participate in an extracurricular activity but what came tumbling of his mouth was contrary to that. "I'm already part of it. Though I guess it wasn't officially sanctioned by the school board."

Garret shrugged his broad shoulders. "Something about teaching kids to fight didn't sit well with conservatives oddly enough. After I told them that wrestling and football are basically just like fight club and added that its official title will be 'MMA Club' they eventually caved. The gear and apparel will still be labelled Fight Club though as long as we don't get sued for copyright," Garret finished with a smirk.

Dominic couldn't help but chuckle at that before Garret continued.

"I expect you to be there for training this afternoon."

"I'm there every day anyway." That didn't seem right but Dominic did remember staying back past school hours anyway. For some reason, he thought it was for detention but that stupid. He couldn't fit in detention _and_fight club.

"Good to hear," Rodney said with a smile. He leaned down and pecked Garret on the cheek. "Anyway, since you're here anyway, mind giving Dom a ride to school?"

"You're not staying for breakfast?" Garret asked.

"Babe, no. I have a rule. The morning after you sleep with someone, you do not share breakfast with them. And since this is my place and not ours, I'm gonna have to run."

Dominic winced and turned away. "Make sure you put some clothes on first, Rod. We've had complaints from neighbours."

"We're on the top floor! We have no neighbours."

"When you step out onto the balcony while fucking someone in the middle of the day, the whole _world_is our neighbour."

Rod rolled his eyes and gave Garret's ass one last smack before heading back to his room to get dressed. It only took a little while longer before Rod re-emerged from the room dressed in a suit that rather deceptively hid his massive physique. He gave Garret one last kiss - full on lip-to-lip - and a light peck to Dominic's forehead before heading out the door - barefoot of course. Kangaroos never had to go around with any shoes. Just too expensive to make. Garret had set a stack of pancakes, eggs and bacon on the kitchen counter by the time Rodney was gone.

Dominic had started to eat before he spoke again.

"Seriously Coach, you and my uncle?"

Garret snickered. "Your uncle has this sort of magnetism to him. Hard to keep your eyes off him."

"Yeah but my uncle? You've got to have a lot of diseases and shit crawling around in him, right?" For emphasis, he made a gesture of using his fingers to mimic creepy-crawly legs.

"Your uncle plays it safe," Garret said with a smile. "Besides, he just likes to get some tail. I'm sure once he finds the right person to settle down with, he'll stop sleeping around. It's part of the game. He's got to hunt in order to find 'the one'."

"Right." Dominic began eating the pancakes. They were surprisingly good. The best he'd ever had. The glass of milk went surprisingly well with it too. "Awesome pancakes."

"My own personal recipe. Even brought my own milk."

"They're damn good." Dominic continued to eat alongside Garret while they made idle chit-chat. It seemed natural to talk to his Coach like this. As alone as he was at Avenue Heights, he felt that Garret Holt was the one person he could confide in.

He grimaced slightly and shook his head.

"Something wrong?" Garret asked.

"Just... Something's been bugging me," he answered with a frown. "I've never been good with science. How is it that my uncle is a roo and I'm not... or my dad...?"

Garret laughed softly. "I know you haven't seen your dad since you were young, kiddo, but it was your mom that was a kangaroo and not your dad."

That was right. His uncle had told him how his grandma was a roo and his grandpa was a human, which lead to his uncle taking more after his mom. That seemed to carry over into the next generation as well, when his father met his mom, who was also a kangaroo. Ironically enough it had been his uncle that had introduced the two to each other. Although neither he or his mother had known that his dad was just looking for a wife that was a fur to make himself seem like he was 'pro-furry' in the business world. Yet another thing that would cause their inevitable split.

"Right... but why am I...?" There was a slight headache throbbing against his head like someone was scraping against the inside of his skull.

"Genetics," answered Garret with a shrug. "Human genes are dominant over fur. Considering how your dad was half-roo you would have only had a 50/50 chance to turn out like your uncle."

The headache eased and he sighed. "Yeah. I guess."

"Good. Now come on and get ready for school. Your uncle will have my ass again if you're late."

Snickering, Dominic finished up his breakfast, devouring everything that was offered, before heading off to take a shower. It was second nature for him to take off his clothes, shower quickly and then lather some saving cream onto the sides of his head so that he could trim down any hairs that had grown overnight so that his Mohawk could stand out more. He was careful with the razor so as not to nick himself. He was very lucky to have a cool uncle like Rod who would let him have a Mohawk in the first place.

Dominic didn't even blink or think twice about putting on the airy runner's shorts and white tank top. Though he still slapped on his heavy black leather jacket with its spikes on the shoulders and down the torso, he was primed and dressed to jump into the ring otherwise. Coach Holt was dressed by the time he was done and they headed down to the carpark and into Holt's big, black truck.

Traffic was terrible but Holt knew some shortcuts that got them to school on time.

"See you at practice this afternoon," Holt said with a cheerful wave.

"Count on it," Dominic answered with a bright grin.

He jogged into the school building and made it to homeroom just in time for the first bell. Dominic was in his seat and ready for the morning announcements well before everyone else, even Colin Meade. There was some sense of satisfaction in the fact that he had actually beaten his rival in something. Meade even looked shocked when he saw Dominic already in his seat, back straight and ready for class before everyone else. Meade was doing football, soccer and basketball - all the popular sports - but Dominic was in the newly made Fight Club. He couldn't remember when their rivalry started, but he was glad that Holt was starting up Fight Club. That way, what he did for fun could actually he something that he could get accolades for.

That thought burned through his mind the entire day and he could feel Meade was holding onto it too. He could feel Colin's eyes on him the entire day. That gave him more than enough reason to strut around and show off his lean, body. Though he was nowhere near as big as his uncle, he still had the genetics to become bigger. Under Holt's tutelage, he would be a beast.

Classes were still a bore and though he managed to answer the questions fired off at him, he wasn't really paying attention. Though he did enjoy seeing the shocked expression on Meade's face when he knew the complex algebraic formula the teacher had asked without even looking it up.

As always, he was alone at recess and lunch. Avenue Heights had its cliques as well and unfortunately for him, he didn't fall into any of those cliques. That suited him just fine. He just hung around at the edge of the basketball court, eating his lunch and watching people as they went by.

Until, of course, when Meade came over to him.

"Hey Dominic..." Meade said warily.

He rolled his eyes. "What do you want, Meade?"

"Uhm..." Colin looked a little flustered for words. "Did... Did you do something with your hair?"

Dominic started at the question. "Are you hitting on me?"

"What? No!" Colin exclaimed, reeling back in surprise. "Just... did you always have a Mohawk?"

"The fuck kind of question is that!? Of course I have! Ask anyone!"

"Really? Because I don't think you did yesterday..."

There was a strange, familiar urge to bring up his fists and start a brawl with Colin but then he remembered Coach Holt's words.

"The game doesn't end when your punches land. Keep aware. Look for weaknesses. Stay calm. And remember your feet. Don't be afraid to move."

He unclenched his fists and straightened against Meade. "What you saw and what the truth is are totally different things, Meade," he said venomously. "I don't have to conform to what the fuck you say just because you're varsity."

Colin shook his head in surprise. "Me being on a varsity team has nothing to do with this!"

"Oh course not." Dominic crossed his arms with a smirk. "Because I'm in a varsity team too." That was a lie. They were just starting the Fight Club and he wasn't even sure that there was a thing as a varsity fight team but it was sort of right.

"What are you talking about?"

"You didn't hear?" taunted Dominic. "Coach Holt is starting up Fight Club. Making it an official team." People were starting to gather and that gave Dominic the perfect stage. "Hear that? If you guys get a kick out of punching people and feel like punching people for kicks, come to the gym after school! Coach Holt is starting up a brand new team and it'll teach you something you can actually use." He shot Colin a snarky look. "Knowing how to handle a ball has no real world applications, you know. Oh wait, your boyfriend might argue otherwise!"

The crowd gasped and let out an 'oooh'.

Colin rose to the bait. "What's that fucker!? You wanna go!?"

Dominic knew he had already won and turned his back to Colin. "Sure. But this ain't the place to do it. You wanna fight, bring it to Fight Club."

And with that, he had an audience and potentially a lot of people to sign up. Coach Holt would go nuts.

He couldn't _wait_until the final bell rang for school and when it finally did, he stuffed his leather jacket into his bag and rushed to the gym. There were already a large crowd of people there - likely from those who had classes closer to the gym. Coach Holt was holding tryouts, naturally without people fighting one another but just going at it on the punching bags. Probably checking for endurance. There was a good fifty people in the gym. Though there was some bit of Dominic that rebelled at the idea of having his afterschool hobby turn into something so mainstream, the sight of Colin Meade off the in the corner scowling just gave him goose bumps.

Coach Holt saw him and waved him over. Whistle in his muzzle, the big wolf called the attention of everyone in the gym.

"Boys, I want you to meet the captain of the Fight Club," he gestured towards Dominic who strutted forward, head held high with a smug smirk on his face. "I want everyone to follow his lead. He's the best fighter in the Club so far." Holt clapped a paw on Dominic's shoulder. The massive blow almost knocked the young man to his knees. "And standing rule in the Club: the guy that beats the top dog gets to be top dog."

That was how it had always been. Dominic was the best fighter in the Club even though it had only consisted of a few guys. It was how he honed his fighting skills. All the guys below him had something to aspire to and he got to face off against a wide variety of opponents and adapt to their skills. He was constantly kept on his toes and never allowed to be too complacent. Now that so many people were gearing up to join, he became excited at the prospect of growing stronger and even more skilled.

As excited as he was to begin, he had to start with a few warm ups. Coach Holt had brought in some actual decent gym equipment since the last time he had been here so there was now some weights that he could use. He spent a good half hour pumping his arms and legs - he couldn't forget about his legs as footwork was very important - and doing some stretches. Once the blood was pumping he put on a pair of gloves and jumped into the ring which had thus far gone unattended.

It was no surprise that Colin Meade was the first to take him on.

"Think you can take on the king on your first day, Meade?" Dominic said, putting up his fists and bouncing lighting on his bare feet. He kept his body tucked low, making as small a target as possible and with arms blocking his face.

"You weren't the king yesterday," Meade scowled, lifting his own arms.

"Fuck you. I've been the best fighter this school has ever had. Coach Holt just gave me an official title!"

"Coach Holt hasn't even _been_in this school until last Friday!"

Dominic rolled his eyes. Pre-fight banter was part of the game. Psyching out your opponent was crucial. Focus was key in the world of mixed martial arts since you didn't only have to focus on one body part but every limb you and your opponent possessed. That meant that if it was possible to force an opponent to lose their focus, it was seen as a win. Throwing insults, verbal jabs or even the odd taunt or two was a viable tactic.

"You need to work on your insults, Meade," he scoffed. "Then again, I can't expect a primped up mama's boy like you to know how to talk back to a teacher!"

"I am not a mama's boy!" snapped Colin and he immediately lurched forward with a sloppy right jab.

Dominic lazily twisted his torso away from the punch, keeping his feet planted to give him more power and footing to unleashed a crushing uppercut that slammed right into Meade's gut. The big, ebony skinned athlete gasped and staggered back, doubling over in pain as he was forced to retreat. Dominic showed no mercy. There was no mercy out on the streets and there certainly wasn't going to be any mercy in the ring. He pushed forward, unleashing rapid jabs that slammed into Meade's chest and forced far fitter guy back until he was right up against the ropes.

With the advantage to him and Meade on the defensive, Dominic quickly snapped his right leg out, hooking his big foot against the back of Colin's knee and forced it to bend and buckle. Meade crashed to the ground and Dominic -

A shrill whistle immediately forced him to freeze.

"That's enough, Dom!" Holt shouted from one of the corners. "My office."

Though he felt a bit of fear at those ominous words, Dominic nonetheless spat on Meade before heading off to Coach Holt's office. The Coach was right behind him and in glancing over his shoulder, he managed to see - and gain some satisfaction - at the fact that none of the other guys were moving to help Meade. The arrogant asshole deserved to see what it felt like to be all alone.

Fuelled by that sense of gratification, Dominic sat in the lone seat in front of Coach Holt's metal desk and kept his head high. The room naturally smelled like the Coach. He knew the big wolf likes to work out in here in private away from the eyes of his students. There was no denying the musk in the air belonged to the lupine and that he had strode right into the wolf's den. In his mind, he didn't do anything wrong. He followed the rules. Maybe that spit in the end was a little overboard but he fought well. Surely the Coach couldn't fault him for that.

Coach Holt did that thing that he always did whenever he spoke to one of his students; he parked himself right in front of his table, leaned against the edge of the table and crossed his arms.

"You got that all out of your system?" accused the wolf.

Dominic was instantly on the defensive. "That fuckwad deserved it! He struts around school like he owns the place just because he's on three varsity teams! Now he comes in to my territory and tries to take over! He challenged me, Coach! I had to defend my title!"

"From what I hear, you're the one that invited him."

"Yeah but he was going on about my mohawk and shit! Then he gets into the ring and accuses me of not being the best! He had it coming!"

Holt lifted a paw and motioned him to calm. "Dom, you've got to separate the streets from the ring. That kind of behaviour won't be tolerated in on the official MMA circuit."

He inclined his head to the side in confusion. "MMA circuit...?"

"You want to get that scholarship to college, right? Your grades aren't the best so in order to get into college and fight on the professional level you need to tone down your behaviour both inside and outside of the cage. It's been your dream to really throw down with professionals like Chavez and Silva. Being a pro MMA fighter was what you told me you wanted to be when you grew up."

Dominic blinked a few times. Those words seemed... odd to him but he couldn't see any fault in it. Sure he didn't really want to go to college but to get to the American Institute for Mixed Martial Arts, he had to at least be good at what he did. The dreams of one day throwing down with champions like Chavez or Silva filled his gut with a fire that made him want to rush out into the gym and punch something until his arms burned.

But for the moment, he was getting a talk-down from Coach Holt.

"Yes, Coach..." he mumbled, ducking his head.

Holt lifted a finger. "Remember, if you want to be a professional fighter, you have to act like it. You're on the world stage all the time. You're as much an actor as you are an athlete. I don't want you being one of those thugs that spits out a swear for every second word of a sentence or gets into bar fights. You're better than that."

Dominic rolled his eyes but hoped Holt didn't see it given his eyes were cast down. "Next you're going to tell me it's because of the crowd I hang out with."

"You mean that Mortimer fellow?"

He lifted his head, almost pleading. "They're good guys, Coach. Just... you know. _Avenue Heights_doesn't really have a good record of turning out star citizens."

Holt seemed a bit thoughtful for a moment before he shrugged and reached behind him. He produced one of those sports shake bottles already filled with a light green, milky fluid akin to one of those flavoured milk teas that was popular amongst other Asian kids. "I'm not going to say anything about Morty or his gang. You deserve to have fun. Enjoy your youth. But remember you're stronger, faster and _smarter_than most other people. You should be careful of how you behave. Now drink your shake. You jumped straight into the fight that you forgot about proper nutrition."

That's what he really liked about Holt; the big wolf actually cared about his students.

"Thanks Coach," he said, taking the bottle. He guzzled the sweet-tasting, slightly salty brew and was instantly filled with energy all over again. Dominic Zhang was out racing back into the gym ready for more. The soon-to-be captain of the Fight Club barely even noticed that Colin Meade had been standing next to the door, listening to every word.

******

Garret had been sure to drive Dominic extra hard that afternoon so as to make sure he was exhausted; so much so that his pupil had no choice but to just go home and get some rest. Though he had only offered a suggestion, his hold on Zhang was much stronger now than it had been the previous day. Still not strong enough to make anything truly remarkable changes but enough.

Dominic Zhang was a tough nut and had strong foundations. Garret, however, knew exactly which of those foundations he would target next.

He left Avenue Heights, jumped in his truck and immediately started heading out with his ever-present duffel bag.

Setting his Monolith_onto the dashboard, he said, "_SABLE, get me the coordinates of one Mortimer Heathrow and when the next time he'll be alone."

"Processing," answered the AI. "He will actually be alone for the next hour or so. Then he is scheduled to systematically meet up with the rest of his 'gang' before heading over to the usual meeting spot where Dominic will rendezvous with them. Given, however, that you have extensively exhausted Dominic Zhang, they will be left to wait for an hour and a half before leaving rather angrily."

"Good," said Garret with a smile. "Give me his current location. I'm going to pay him a visit."

"Setting coordinates on the map now. Optimal route calculated. Oh, and Garret?"

His cocked an ear in the direction of the little black phone sitting on his dashboard. "Yes, SABLE?"

"You have a tail."

Any other day he would have taken that as a joke to the presence of an actual tail but a quick glance at his rear view mirror revealed the presence of a white, slightly rusted sedan.

"Hello Colin Meade," he said with a smile.

"You were expecting this?"

Garret lifted three fingers. "My target has three people that occupy the majority of his time: his uncle who provides lodging and food, Mortimer who provides activities _outside_of school and lastly Colin Meade who occupies his thoughts during school."

SABLE was silent for an exact second. "I see. You're purposefully exempting Meade from your reality alterations so that he becomes aware of the transformations and changes first_. You expect him to come willingly in the end."_

He nodded. "Zhang needs a foil. He's a high-energy kid. He just needs someone to direct that energy at. Someone that has a level head." A grin crossed his muzzle as he turned a corner, making sure to take it nice and slow so that Colin had time to catch up. "Mr. Meade will be an excellent candidate."

"What of his father?"

There, Garret's grin turned to a frown. Cameron Zhang was an enigma. The guy was all the way in New York and though his reality changes did impact Zhang slightly, it would be extremely problematic if and when Dominic starts making headlines. Garret couldn't help but feel a little sickened by the thought of the story of the estranged father who decided to re-connect with his son after a bitter divorce. The man had abandoned his son for his career and if he ever came back to him it would likely just to take advantage of his success. Likely Cameron would not actually want to build some form of familial bond and just wanted to mooch off Dominic's success to elevate himself.

"Honestly, I'm tempted to leave him as is. Maybe even alter reality so that Rodney had always been Dominic's father."

"While that would result in an acceptable amount of divergence. While it won't lead to dimensional collapse, I have a suggestion that will plug all remaining holes and mitigate the risk of collapse even further."

He perked his ears curiously. "Oh really? Colour me intrigued." He caught sight of the lone man with bright, intelligent green eyes dressed in leather and with a permanent hunch to his posture shuffling down the street. "It'll have to wait, SABLE. I see Mortimer."

"Understood."

Garret slowed down right next to Mortimer and rolled down the windows. It was a good thing the street wasn't too busy and that meant that Colin had a clear view of him. "Hey, you're Mortimer Heathrow, right?"

Morty glanced at him with a scowl. "Who wants to know?"

"My name is Garret Holt. I'm Dominic Zhang's high school coach. He wanted me to tell you that he's too tired today from practice to meet up."

The young man with blue hair - which Garret was pretty sure had been a different shade a week before - scowled at him. "Fucking great. First you turn him into some sort of star student now you convince him to stay at home like a 'good little student'. What, you housetraining him like a good little pup? Well fuck you, man! I'm not going to let you put a leash on Dom!"

"Whoa, whoa! Hang on there," Garret said with a soft laugh. "I'm not trying to steal Dominic from you or anything. I'm just trying to help him build a future."

"And you think I'm a shitty example? That he's got no future with me or the gang?" Mortimer's voice was rising and there were a few people on the streets that had started to purposefully cross to the opposite sidewalk to avoid the rampaging renegade. "I'm not the problem! It's the man! The authorities of this world, jar-headed grunts like you, are the problem!"

"Uh-huh. How about you jump into my truck and let's discuss this like civilised adults, eh Mortimer?"

Morty stood his ground. "Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you, Holt? You're just like any other of these sheeple! Pinned down by the thumb of the cops or government officials!" He threw his hands into the air. "Well I ain't gonna stand for it, you hear!? I'm the voice of reason here! I'm the only guy that's keeping this world from being turned into a total, Orwellian dictatorship!"

He was rather surprised by Mortimer's reference and quickly realised that this man was actually very intelligent. Disillusioned by the system, perhaps, but very intelligent. The plan had been originally to turn him into a teacher but he quickly changed courses.

"I respect that," said Garret. "But here's the thing, I know you can't get yourself out of jail and I _know_that you and your gang skirt the law, never breaking anything but annoying the hell out of people in authority. So either you jump into this truck and we talk it out or you keep 'disrupting the peace' and get arrested. People look up to you, Mortimer, and I'm pretty sure you like that. You don't want someone who has succumbed to the rules like, say, a tough-guy like Dominic to take over the gang, do you?"

That was the bait and Mortimer swallowed it up.

"Fuck that." He stormed over and pulled open the passenger-side door. "But you got to drive me exactly where I want to go, got it?"

"And I'll even pay for gas," chuckled Garret. "Where to?"

"Corner of Lexington and Main. And hurry the fuck up. I've got the rest of the guys sans Dominic to pick up."

With a smile, Garret pulled his truck into gear and began to drive. Morty's destination wasn't too far away and he still had Colin tailing him. He had to work quickly.

"So why do you go by 'Morty' anyway?" he asked. "It's rather... meek sounding."

"You don't get to choose my name," spat the dropout.

"Tim would sound better. You're going to go by Tim from now on."

The forceful command made Morty frown and he looked away. "Fine. Whatever."

Holt kept his smile to himself. "So why did you drop out of high school?"

Morty grunted loudly and his voice rose with all the bile and hatred he bore in his chest. "Avenue Heights is mired in the web of bureaucracy. All they care about is getting their grade point averages up and the goddamn budget that never goes to any of the students or the facilities. They don't care if anyone fails and just care about those that succeed. Anyone that starts to drop their precious curve gets kicked out before they take the official tests."

"Right. So like being a rebel, huh? You know what sounds pretty cool? 'Rebel Rabbit'. Hell, from now on, you're a rabbit."

Morty threw him a questioning glance. "What the fuck are you on about?"

"You're going to be a rabbit. A horny, anthropomorphic rabbit."

As he spoke, the hairs covering Morty's arms grew and lengthened. They kept his natural brown colouration but quickly thickened to the consistency for fur. The hairs on his palms, however, turned a rather stark white. He scratched at his pierced ears as the fur quickly covered them. Those very same ears lengthened as he quickly gave them a short tug. Morty immediately pulled his hands away from his ears and let out a gasp. He looked at his hands and his eyes went wide in shock.

"What the fuck!?"

"So you dropped out of high school and instead went for vocational studies instead and worked with your old man in his shop," said Garret. "Pay your way into college for more practical knowledge."

"What? No! I -" The resistance in Morty was quickly being chipped away by Garret's forceful commands. He was constantly turning his hands over and over again as the pink pawpads sprang up from his palms and were quickly covered in softy, white fur. "Don't say it like that! I just left school because it's shitty and..."

With his words, the fur spread further, covering his arms entirely and quickly spreading across the rest of his body. A thick, white fluff poked out from the collar of his shirt. Morty even had to sit up slightly so that his faded jeans had time to adjust the sudden appearance of a white, fluffy tail that appeared from the base of his spine. His nose wiggled slightly and he brushed the back of his hand against it. The hooked nose of a human faded against the short muzzle that his features quickly melded into, becoming a cute little pink button above a pair of buck teeth that only showed slightly. The big, black boots he wore faded as his feet grew into large, brown-furred stompers with a pair of sandals hugging them.

"You dropped out of high school and went to college instead," Garret commanded. "Then you joined a frat. You're a horny, rebellious, rabbit who joined a fraternity of like-minded individuals. All you do is drink, party, work out. That kind of brotherhood can't be bought."

His passenger was starting to panic. He seized the sides of his head and started to hyperventilating as his old memories were being rapidly consumed by new ones. The brown fuzz that had started to grow from his ears began to spring up under his fingertips, lining the edges of his face with a cute brown fuzz.

With no where left to go with his hands pinned to his sides, his fuzzy brown ears slipped upwards from his fingers and were pulled to the top of his head. When he began to notice the lack of sensation of his ears where they once where the man's panic only seemed to rise. Releasing the grip on his head, he ran his hands up the sides of his face until he came upon his two long ears that now crowned the top of his head. With a frightened sounding squeak, his skinny frame began to inflate as the clothes around his body shrank. Though Blue Plateau was generally a cold area, his black, leather jacket shrank and faded into nothingness leaving him with a black shirt. However even that article of clothing was not long for this world as Morty began clawing at the retreating sleeves as if that would somehow keep it from fading away. The shirt retained its colour but the sleeves retreated to his shoulders leaving his big, inflating biceps exposed. The collar similarly widened to leave him with rather thin straps that hung around his well-developed shoulders. From jacket, to shirt, and now tank top it was any wonder if the shirt would fade away entirely. However, once his pectorals began to puff outwards and his chest gained a puff of white fur between the shelves of his pectorals it seemed to finally stop. Underneath the fabric his permanently erect nipples teasingly poked out from shirt like twin targets that almost begged to be twisted and teased. Though most of his abdominals were hidden by his new shirt; the fact that it was already a few sizes too small gave anyone a clear view of his belly button along with the trail of brown fur that lead down into his baggy pants. His baggy, faded denim pants were the next for their own little makeover as they rode up in fear of the mans growing feet and calves. Like two twin balloons his feet and toes grew outward, covered in a soft pelt of brown and white patched fur that gave off the illusion of softness. Although as his calves began to expand and grow, those "soft" feet could likely kick in a pretty sizeable dent into a car door should he want to. With his legs now free to breathe his calves swelled and grew out, filling with muscle and strength as rivers of veins began to dance across their length. With such big feet and legs he was soon forced to adjust the seat, pushing it back a few inches to give himself more room as legs lengthened. The jeans he had been wearing obtained a few more pockets and though it retained its blue colouration, its rough workman's texture changed into something smoother, lighter. The cargo pants quickly filled out with his widening thighs making them look less baggy but still respectably loose. What room was left quickly fell away as his package filled out his crotch area. The cock within stirring like a waking snake as it underwent its own changes underneath the fabric.

"What's going on!?" Morty squeaked. "What are you doing to me!?"

"Making you better," Holt answered with a smug smile. "You're a bad influence on guys like Dominic and the rest of your gang. You know that you've got no future and you purposefully delude yourself into thinking that being a punk, dancing with the law and somehow being the epitome of a rebel from thirty years ago would somehow make you better than the rest of the world." He shot Morty an accusing stare matched with his condescending smile. "In reality, you're just scared; scared that you'll die alone in this world because you're too stubborn to improve yourself and couldn't admit when you're wrong. That's why you drag guys like Dominic down with you; so you have a 'gang' that validates your way of thinking."

"That's not true!" wailed his passenger but as he said this, his voice grew deeper and his arms became meatier. Years of working as a mechanic pumped his forearms full of mass and his biceps grew with the strain. Thick, sexy veins pumped out from his pectorals and down his arms. He groaned loudly, arching his widening back and gnashing his suddenly perfect teeth - barring the buck teeth common with rabbits - in ecstasy. Morty could not help but cup his growing erection which was stirring wildly in his pants.

"Isn't it? Then tell me exactly why you hang around at night, wandering the street as a gang, doing nothing but annoy people, never doing drugs or anything to break the law? Tell me that."

Morty's lips quivered as his features jutted forward into a short, adorable muzzle. The brown and white fur consumed every part of his face though the stark blue hair that he wore remained. "Alright!" he pleaded. "I screwed up! I couldn't finish school, I failed my classes! I failed my classes in Avenue Heights! I was scared and was stuck! I just... I just didn't want to be alone!"

Holt turned his eyes back to the road. "Good. So are you going to let me help you?"

"Yes! Yes! Please change me! Change my screwed up life!"

Garret had to admit this was very entertaining. While not a stickler for the law himself, Mortimer Heathrow - at least the original - sickened him. The 'gang leader' would've gotten more respect from him if he had actually dealt drugs or engaged in criminal activity. As it stood, all Morty did was act like some perpetual high school delinquent and dragged his friends down with him because he was too scared of being alone in a world that wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole.

"The members of Phi Upsilon Kappa accepted you as one of their own," the big wolf said. "You're a kindred spirit amongst them. You found it hard to find friends or even fit in at Avenue Heights because of your sexuality but now that you're in college, studying mechanics to help your dad and with your brothers, you can finally spread your wings and be the little homo bunny you always were."

Morty shrugged. As he said this, a bright, rainbow-patterned badge appeared against his shirt. His bright blue hair was abruptly pushed back as a black baseball cap with the letters 'PUK' etched on the front appeared. The cap was twisted backwards in typical fratboy style with the tufts of blue poking out from the opening. "Hey, we guys got to take care one of another and love who we are. There's nothing gained by hiding ourselves. We've got to be proud of who we are!"

"Exactly. And they've had a good impact on you as well. Your brothers have helped your study habits, made your more social, expanded your network and even improved your health!" He reached over and gently slapped Morty's washboard abs. "You look hot, kid."

The rabbit moaned loudly, bucking his hips into the air as those very same abdominals hardened with a loud groaning noise. His legs thickened all the more and his chest widened.

"I work out," Morty answered with more confidence. "Study, workout, drink."

"And fuck."

"And fuck," agreed the rabbit. "Hell, me and my brothers fuck like... well... like wild me's." He snickered at his own joke, his eyes opening to the new world he was introduced to. "Damn... I feel good."

"Great. That said, I respect that you were hoping that Dominic would go to your college and join PUK too but he's got his own dreams to follow, you know."

Morty glanced out the window and sighed. "Yeah... I know. I'll admit that there've been times that I've wished I could get a taste of that sweet ass but..." He glanced quickly at Garret. "Look, you take care of him okay? He's like a little brother to me."

And with that, Mortimer Heathrow's conversion was complete and his link to Dominic fundamentally changed.

"I'm not stealing him from you," Garret said. "You guys can still hang out and be brothers. Just remember that he's got his own priorities too. And for what it's worth, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be opposed to sleeping with his idol."

Morty pulled his head back in surprise. "I'm his idol?"

"Well sure. You taught him that it's okay to be gay and to be comfortable with who he is. The reason why he made himself to be a tough guy is because he doesn't want people to pin a gay stereotype with him. Doesn't help that his uncle is bisexual."

"Rodney is bi?" Morty exclaimed in surprise.

"He is now. I changed him just like I changed you."

The college fratboy pulled back in surprise. "Bro... "

"I'm doing this all for Dominic, Tim. Dominic is far more stubborn than you are and I couldn't change him directly like I changed you without messing with his psyche. So I had to change those around him first. I made Rodney a more carefree, socially-active father-figure that Dominic occasionally fucks..."

"That's hot bro," mumbled Morty - now Tim.

"I know." Garret gestured towards the fratboy rabbit. "And then I had to change you from a no-future loiterer to someone with aspirations and drive."

Morty laughed and regarded Garret with surprise. "Well fuck me... Thanks, bro. And it was all for Dom?"

"Exactly."

The fratboy jerked back in surprise. "But... what about my bros?"

"Do you want to change them too?"

"Well... fuck yeah!" Tim cast his gaze towards his big feet, wiggling his toes a little against the sandal he wore. "I know I wasn't leading them anywhere but where else could we go...?"

"Well then, let's get to work."

Garret grinned broadly as stopped next to the curb as the light turned red. Right on the corner of Lexington and Main Street was another punk that was part of Tim's gang. The young delinquent didn't even bat an eye as Tim poked his head out and invited him to jump in. To Colin Meade who was just two cars away, he watched the guy jump into the car and likely saw the fuzzy arm of Tim, probably mistaking it for Holt's.

Even before the light turned green, the new passenger had been converted into another bunny fratboy while Tim was happily explaining to him that Garret was not only gay but was going to take care of their 'little bro', Dominic. Garret flexed a bicep at their newcomer which made the other bunny drool both from his lips and from his cock. Then they picked up the third member of Tim's gang. This guy seemed a little more hesitant but stepped into the truck anyway. Tim jumped into the back seat with the rest of his bros. Garret noted with curiosity that the moment Tim touched his friend's skin, some of his fur seemed to stick to the man and quickly spread the change. By the time they had reached the fourth member of the gang, the three guys were in the back of the truck feverishly making out. The fourth member jumped into the back seats to join them leaving room for the fifth guy to sit on the passenger-side seat and lean down towards Garret to suck him off.

The inside of Garret's tuck had soon turned into an orgy of pent up rabbits, and he was the 'big bad wolf" that had to please them all. Luckily, with his "special" member he was more than capable of satisfying the horny rabbits while keeping his eyes on the road.

Eventually, after some commands not to shake the truck so much while he drove and nearly a dozen cries of orgasm, they finally made their way to their 'usual meeting spot'. Which just so happened to be the driveway of the PUK fraternity house.

"Listen guys, I've got something to tell you all," Garret said, turning to the very horny bunnies. "I've got a job for you and it involved Dom."

Tim bent one ear slightly while he hugged his fraternity brother tenderly. "What is it, Coach?"

Garret quickly explained to the other bunnies what had happened. Tim didn't possess any sort of controlling effect over them all but the changes Garret had enforced on Tim had subsequently changed them as well. Still, they were aware that they had changed. The prospect of fucking in the back of a truck while it was moving, however, was far too overpowering for them to question. But now they knew and they had a job to do.

He glanced from face to face. "As far as the universe is concerned, you're like an infection."

"What? There are rabbits like us everywhere!" Tim snickered and fondled the closes cock. "Well... Not exactly like us..."

"Exactly. You look like any other rabbit but you're not. You're different. You're built differently. You've got to be careful. Don't stir the pot but also, you've got to be changing other people to fit your story as well. Your family, your friends. There will have been changes to your history, to your story. Don't call question to it."

A sense of clarity entered each of their eyes and they quickly exchanged glances.

Glad that there wasn't a flood of panic from any of his new converts, Holt reached into his duffel bag which hung from behind his seat. He pulled out five new Monoliths and handed to each of them. "Activate those and SABLE, the AI presiding over the operation, will guide you. Right now, I want you guys to remember your mission and step out of this truck as if you're just heading over to meet the rest of your fraternity brothers. If you need any help, you'll know how to reach me."

Morty nodded and hoisted his pants back up over his rather impressive thirteen-inch dick. "Okay, you got it, Coach."

"Good luck out there, Morty."

The delinquent-turned-fratboy opened the door and stepped out, his sandals slapping against the soles of his enormous feet. "Tim. Call me Tim now."

Garret gave Tim a thumbs up and let the rest of the rabbits step out of his truck. He glanced at the rear-view mirror and caught a clear view of the horrified look of Colin Meade. To the young varsity athlete, five _human_punks had stepped into the truck and five muscled, lean college rabbit fratboys had stepped out.

That was the bait...

... and Meade ate it up.

******

A big paw nudged him away from a pleasant little dream he was having and Dominic grimaced loudly as he rolled away from the rude appendage. In the darkness behind his own eyelids, he heard someone sigh. Then that very same big paw reached beneath the covers of his bed and squeezed down on the large hard-on he was sporting. Dominic's eyes instantly snapped open and he let out a loud yelp before springing away.

"Morning, sunshine," Rod greeted with a smirk. His uncle took no pains to enjoy the fact that he had his large paw wrapped around his nephew's impressive nine-inch cock. "You know, you have got to stop sleeping in or you'll give your dear old uncle some ideas."

Dominic cocked his head to the side and gave his uncle a lewd look. "I've been saying for a year that you could always sneak in a quickie before you rush off to work but you always have to hit the gym before heading to your job, don't you?"

Rod grinned at him and bent down to press his big, furry lips against Dominic's. This was no innocent kiss. Tongues were involved and Dominic moaned loudly while thrusting his hips into his uncle's paw. How could he - a consenting homosexual nineteen-year-old living under the same roof as his hot, bisexual uncle - not enjoy the touch of this manly kangaroo that looked like a god in his suit? Pity that he couldn't have a taste of that roo meat until the weekend. They were both very busy with their lives, after all, and Rod wouldn't let him go to any of the clubs he frequented. Though their nights spent in the same bedroom would be considered salacious but some, his uncle still wanted to protect some perceived form of 'innocence' that Dominic supposedly had.

Rod pulled away from the kiss, showing incredible self-control even though his boner was tenting his slacks. "We can save that for this weekend son, makes it all the sweeter."

"I know." Dom gave his uncle a waggle of his eyebrows. "I spend week_days_wrapped around Coach Holt's monster dick like a condom."

Rod gave him a light, playful smack to the head. "Tease." He straightened and finally let go of Dominic's dick. "Tim called this morning and was wondering if you could head over to the frat house after you skipped out on yesterday. It's his night off apparently and the PUKs are having a party."

"Wednesdays are when they have their weekday parties," chuckled Dom. "You don't mind?"

"Just play it safe and don't be out too late. It is a school night." Rod headed towards the door, big, thick tail swaying back and forth happily. "I'll leave out dinner just in case you get hungry." The big kangaroo lapped at the light splatter of precum over his paw before adjusting his tie. "Love you lots!"

"Love you too, Daddy."

Rod turned back to him, showing off the impressive tent that one five-letter word invoked. "You're such a fucking tease."

Dominic pointed at his exposed, erect dick. "Look who's talking!"

They both laughed and Rod headed out of the door. Dominic was left with his own raging erection and, as he always did when his uncle had woken him in such a manner, rubbed one out without a care where his cum lay. God knows he and his uncle had befouled his bed more times than he could count. If the maids ever brought a black light to this place, they would probably run out screaming for fear of somehow getting pregnant. He shuddered at the thought of getting a woman pregnant. Just the thought of a vagina made his balls shrivel up.

He did a few morning exercises, had breakfast and then was off to school fairly early. He always arrived an hour before the first bell ever since Coach Holt had arrived. His awesomely supportive Coach and frequent visitor to his wet dreams left the door to the gym open in the mornings to let him get a quick workout in before school actually started. As usual, the gym was abandoned so that gave him time to quickly go at the punching bags for a good half-hour.

That was when Coach Holt called to him.

"Hey Dom, I thought I heard you come in." Holt hiked a thumb into his office. "Mind coming in here for a second?"

"Sure Coach," he answered happily. Still full of energy, he practically bounced all the way to Coach Holt's office. There was something comforting about being surrounded by the heady musk of the big wolf. It reminded him a lot about his nights in his uncle's embrace wrapped around that huge roo dick. He could never get that monster in him but Rod never opposed to rubbing it up and down his nephew's chest since Dom came of age last year. It had been Rod's special 'birthday gift'. To this day, Rodney Zhang slept with a new guy or gal every weekday but reserved his weekends for his nephew. It was a wonder that Dom could even get any studying done given the loud moans that come out of Rod's room and with his weekends being occupied by the big hunk of kangaroo meat.

Then there was Coach Holt. The huge lupine was a constant turn on and for Dom, watching the enormous wolf move was a constant temptation. He sat down in the seat that was always in front of the Coach's desk and even pulled it a little closer to his coach just so he could get a better view of the how each muscle formed such delicious contours against the grew fur. As always, Coach Holt parked himself in front of his table, crossed his arms and stood before Dom.

"How're you feeling today, Dom?" asked Holt.

"Great!" Dominic answered. "Why do you ask, Coach?"

"Because I want you to be prepared for what I'm about to tell you," Holt said with a heavy sigh. The wolf paused and for the first time, Dominic saw the man who had changed so much in him hesitate. "Dominic, I recently learned that your biological father was in New York."

Holt reached behind him and pulled out what appeared to be a financial magazine which he handed to Dominic. On the front cover was what appeared to be an Asian man. Though he was many years older than Dominic, the sharp chin, the deep, dark eyes and the high cheekbones were unmistakable. That and the name 'Cameron Zhang' was plastered on the front cover.

"No way..." Dominic whispered, shaking his head. "This can't be..."

"It is," said Holt. "I was looking into the college applications to get you that scholarship and it turns out that I need a signature from your father or at least your legal guardian."

"Then get it from Rod!"

Holt grimaced. "See... that's the thing. Rod isn't technically your legal guardian. For all intents and purposes, you're just staying with your uncle. Your father never gave him guardianship over you. I think deep down, your father still cares for you and -"

"That's bullshit!" shouted Dominic, jumping to his feet and throwing the magazine to the floor. "My dad never cared for me. Not one bit! The only thing he's ever cared about is himself. Rod is my only real dad. Hell, you've been a better dad to me that that asshole!" He pointed accusingly at the picture of the smug man staring grimly at the audience from the front of the magazine.

Holt was quiet for a long moment, just staring straight at Rod. After a long moment, the big wolf let out a long sigh and ducked his head, ears folding back. "I can't imagine what you've had to go through, Dom. But I can't send this application without your biological father's consent."

"Then I'll get the money another way," Dominic shouted angrily. "I'll get a job. I'll work for it! I don't need a scholarship to get into college!"

Garret gave him an encouraging smile. "I admire the spirit, Dom. I really do." He waved the young man back into the seat. "And to tell you the truth, I'll be supporting you the entire way in more ways than one."

He smiled back at the coach and though his heart was pumping full of fury and rage, it was cooled by the comforting presence of his idol and mentor. "Thanks Coach. It's always nice knowing you're in my corner."

"I'm doing more than just supporting you from the sidelines, Dom." Then without warning, Coach Garret Holt tugged at the rims of his tight-fitting shorts. Dominic was paralysed with surprise as he finally got to see those huge, plump, furry balls and that sheath that had been a frequent guest star in his dreams many times before. Fantasy could do the layer of grey, furry skin that wrapped around that succulent package any justice. Dominic's mouth began to water just at the sight of it.

"C - C - Coach...?" he stammered. "What a - a - are you doing?"

"There's a lot about the world you don't know about, Dom," Garret said calmly. "People, organisations and even yourself."

Then, a little pink point emerged from the tip of that sheath. Dominic's eyes widened and they followed the little droplet of precum that oozed out of the tip and soaked into the fur of the sheath. His jaw dropped wide open in anticipation of wrapping his lips around the cock that would emerge but was not at all ready for what was to come.

"I'm going to lay down the facts for you," Garret said. "You're going to sit there, suck my dick, drink every drop I give you and listen."

There was no question, no request for confirmation. Dominic had no choice but to obey. As much as he wanted to crawl onto his hands and knees and beg for the Coach's dick, Garret Holt had told him to sit and he remained firmly rooted in position. He didn't even flinch when the long length of the Coach's dick rose from his sheath revealing a huge, baseball-sized knot. Even as the long, bright red member curled in the air like a tentacle and reached across the room towards him, he only obediently opened his lips and let the pointed tip slide into his mouth, sliding in and out down the back of his throat while easily depositing the delicious fluids directly into his stomach.

"I work for the Nexus Conglomerate," explained the Coach. "I was assigned here with you as my target. I don't know _why_they chose you but I was tasked with making you the best that you can be. But you're a stubborn nut to crack. You were stuck in your ways. So instead, I had to hit the roots that made the tree strong. I first went after your uncle, Rodney. Turned him into a partying, confident, bodybuilding kangaroo who can balance work and life in equal measures. Then I hit your friend Mortimer; turned him into a homosexual, fratboy that's proud of who he is. Now, you've finally opened up and are willing to let me in."

And how Dominic loved having the Coach in him. The touch of that long, thick cock slipping and sliding in his mouth, roiling against his tongue and the taste of that slick cum was absolutely heaven. If the Coach hadn't ordered him to listen, he would've been completely lost in ecstasy. Thankfully Coach Holt hadn't restricted him to masturbate so he was free to wiggle out of his shorts and start stroking his impressive eight-inch dick.

"You love to fight. So I decided to gear you towards mixed martial arts. I got samples of Charles Silva."

And Dominic could feel the runner-up's knowledge of the sport pouring into him. Just as surely as that succulent precum was draining into his gut, he could also feel tonnes of experience flooding into his mind. Techniques both in and out of the cage, proper nutrition and workout routines to ensure that he was always in perfect, fighting shape. It all came rushing into his mind and he drank it all up.

With this knowledge and experience came a whole new series of changes. His lean, athletic body began to tighten like every inch of his skin began sinking into the crevasses of his muscles to accentuate every curve and shape. Those very same muscles throbbed greedily. Every drop of mutagenic cum that came from Coach Holts monstrous cock only served to fuel these changes even further. Taking deep breaths through his nose, Dominic would breathe out, letting the air escape while his muscles filled in the gaps. Taking in another breath would then cause those new muscles to flex and swell, filling him like a balloon and cutting his body into a perfect fighters physique.

"But more than that," Holt continued. "You needed charm. You'll be in the public eye when you become a star in the MMA world. You need to know how to work people just as well as you work the bag. So I also extracted a bit of Eric Pitt's essence as well."

And with that, Dominic became aware of the intricacies of having a public image. The rage that had burned inside of him quelled as he shrewdly realised that he could use his tragic background to his advantage. For the first time, he actually felt that being in Avenue Heights could be to his advantage. He grew stronger as he became more and more popular and with that, his body continued to change. Every muscle grew more toned, not necessarily bigger but far more accentuated. His sharp, Asian features filled out a little more to highlight his high cheekbones and strong, pointed chin. The bushy eyebrows that he had never before groomed straightened to a gentle slant towards his sharp nose. The mohawk he sported became far more well-kempt and grew a little longer to appear more like a wave rising upwards with the front being longer and sweeping forward. The shirt he wore shrank back into a sleeveless muscle shirt with a shockingly deep neckline that acted as a window towards his sculpted pectorals and teased at his perfect abdominals. The shorts he wore, however, lengthened to become figure-hugging spandex that accentuated the curves of every inch of his long legs. The dirty, six-year-old sneakers he wore transformed into bright, white runners, well-maintained and fashionable.

"Lastly, I met up with an old friend of mine; Colonel Peter Crosse. He works for the Conglomerate too but is more militaristic than me. What you lacked was discipline so I got some off him and now I'm giving it to you."

With those words, all those days losing his temper over the silliest thing faded away. He knew he was big, he knew he was tough but he would not use his power or strength to abuse anyone or throw his weight around. True strength came from knowing when not to use force. As this lesson was ingrained into him, Dominic gasped. This allowed Holt's tentacle-dick to slide further down his throat and he was suddenly stuck with his chest out, his arms back and staring up at the big towering wolf in front of him.

There was a strange tingling sensation deep within his bones like someone was drawing a feather across them all. At first, he wasn't sure what was happening but the words ' Regenerative Reinforced Skeleton' popped into his mind and he instantly knew that any broken bone he ever suffered would heal faster than anyone else in the world - save perhaps for other Conglomerate assets. His muscles gurgled loudly - literally let out loud gurgling noises - and he could feel them gyrating beneath his skin. They felt stronger, more powerful but at the same time strangely cushiony. The Impact-Force Gel that filled them gave him a sort of adaptive armour that would harden the instant he got hit with enough physical force. Something else stirred within him, adrenaline rushing through his system and filling him with a wild energy that made him want to run, jump or fight his way across the entire room. Somehow he managed to will this sensation away, and soon the flow of adrenaline began to stop. But it was then he suddenly realized that he had full control over his fight-or-flight system.

But it was far from over.

Dominic threw his head back, gasping and choking a little on the Coach's massive dick. Bones snapped and cracked just beneath his arms. His pectorals gyrated, bouncing up and down over and over again like they were being fondled by an invisible pair of hands. An intense pressure built about halfway down his spine, just beneath his shoulder blades. There was a burst, a loud crack almost like a gun going off and all Dominic could manage to do was let out a gurgling sound as his spine shot upwards, pulling his shirt up away from the rims of his pants a full foot away. All his consciousness went directly towards the building pressure on his back as he and he slumped forward, cock still in his mouth while letting out another lusty moan. This time the pressure began to grow at his sides right underneath his shoulder blades. But this time it was strangely pleasurable, building almost like an encroaching orgasm that would become horribly addictive if it didn't stop soon. Soon the sound of cracking bones and popping joints began to fill the office with a harmony of tearing and mending flesh . These lumps shifted just a few inches below his arms, growing bigger and thicker until the already tight shirt could contain it no longer. Like someone bursting out from an oversized cake, two huge, muscled arms ripped his shirt in half as they erupted from his body just under his original pair. Dominic grunted loudly, flexing his new arms and in doing so, transferred the heat towards his chest. There, he felt the fire materialise into hardened muscle, forming a second pair of solid pectorals that settled just beneath his first one complete with their own set of dark nipples that pushed up against the remnants of his shirt.

As a coup de grâce, Dominic Zhang straightened and gripped his skin-tight pants with his newly acquired hands while the originals wrapped around wrapped around Coach Holt's prehensile dick. Showing no hesitation, he pulled down his pants and let his eight inches of throbbing meat free from its confines. Grabbing hold of his cock with both hands - one on top of the other - he worked his meat as he grew in his grasp until his hands could hardly fully grip its length. Once his member reached a tremendous thirteen inches, he could bear the pleasure no longer, letting out gurgling gasp as he went rigid, his seed bursting from his cock across the room and splattering onto Coach Holt's muzzle.

Dom slumped into the seat, eyelids heavy and too weak to oppose the large tentacle-dick sliding out of his mouth and giving his cheek a gentle caress before retreating back into Holt's waiting sheath.

"You okay there, kid?" Holt asked.

Dominic held up one of his hands and let out a murmuring reply. After a few seconds, he straightened again and wiped his forehead with the back of a hand. "It's... a lot to take in Coach... I mean... Now that I look back at the guy I was... fuck, I was a jerk." He glanced at his two pairs of meaty arms. "And now that I look at myself... How am I going to explain this?"

Coach Garret Holt chuckled softly. "It looks like your NEXT is far more physical than others. It will be a little hard to explain."

"Huh?" Dom asked, still a little drowsy from the exhilarating experience.

"Your uncle, Rodney, has this aura about him that makes him the centre of attention everywhere. It's subtle but makes everyone notice how sexy he is." Holt hiked a thumb over his shoulder. "Mortimer - Tim - I think he can 'infect' other people with his fur. Someone just has to come in contact with it and it sort of jumps from him and wiggles their way into their flesh and starts to change them. It's how he changed the rest of his gang. You though..."

Holt sighed and crossed his arms at the sight of the four-armed student in front of him. "Reality will need to take a hit for this, unfortunately. But it's nothing it can't handle. Given that we started at your foundations first, we should be okay. But that just means we'll have to hit your father now. He's going to remember having a 'unique' son like you. Plus your college application will be a little more... unique given your physical traits."

Dom got to his feet and turned around so that he could see himself fully in the mirror. He was a titan. Standing at seven and a half feet tall with four arms jutting from his muscled torso, he was a god. No one would ever consider him ordinary. Some part of his mind was already formulating the excuse that his appearance was what caused his father to abandon him and he drew some satisfaction over becoming a renowned MMA fighter to show him up but based on what he learned from Coach Holt during the exchange, it would not be that simple.

"I'm not done, am I?" he asked, flexing his arms at the mirror.

"Not by a long shot," Holt said. "We've made the incision. Not it's time to operate." The big wolf pushed off the table. "I've made sure that no one draws attention to you right now. It'll be as if you always had those arms but expect people to whisper behind your back and consider you a genetic freak."

"It's okay. As the old me, I was always considered an outsider. At least this time, I look sexy while doing it."

"Damn straight," chuckled the Coach. "Maybe 'straight' isn't the right word."

Dominic stopped admiring himself in the mirror and turned towards his mentor. "So what now?"

Holt reached into that ever-present duffel bag of his and handed him a black slab, a_Monolith_. "SABLE will be able to fill you in on any questions you may have. For now, act normal because this is normal." He motioned at Dominic's physique. "I'm going to look into my next move."

"My biological dad?" Dominic asked, even surprisingly himself at how he remained calm.

"Maybe. We'll have to see."

******

For someone who was on the varsity team, Colin Meade was very slow. The most popular guy in Avenue Heights - which wasn't really saying much - dashed around the corner and immediately slammed into a wall of furry muscle. Meade managed to let out a soft 'eep' before Holt seized him around the shoulders and dragged him into the nearest maintenance closet. There, he locked the door, pressing his back against it to keep anyone else from accidentally stumbling into them.

"G - Get away from me you alien freak!" Meade cried, his dark eyes wide in terror.

"Alien," scoffed Garret. "Not too far off home plate there." He jerked a chin towards Colin. "So, spying on us huh?"

Meade pressed himself up against the farthest wall and grabbed a mop as if he could use it as a weapon against the wolf. "I usually come to school early to get some studying done. I passed the gym and noticed the door was open then... then I heard you and Dom talking and..." His eyes wandered straight to Garret's cock. "What did you do to him?"

Garret couldn't help but smile a little. "Right. You saw me with those fratboys too, didn't you?"

The ebony-skinned athlete's eyes widened in terror. "I... I..."

He held up a paw for silence. "No need to deny it, Colin. I purposefully left you out of the loop so I could make sure I knew exactly how you felt about Dominic."

"What are you talking about?"

Garret crossed his arms like he always did when speaking to his students. "I'm not exactly a normal wolf. I may look it but I'm not. I'm an Agent of the Nexus Conglomerate."

Colin inclined his head in confusion. "The what?"

"A group of interdimensional corporations with technology so advanced that to you, it will seem like magic. Hell, I'm pretty sure some of it is magic. You see this?" Without moving his arms, his cock sprang forth from his waistband, waving in the air as if it were greeting Colin. Needless to say the young man cringed at the long, pink, slimy length. "It was given to me by the Conglomerate. It's called a NEXT. A sort of biological mutation that has various purposes. As an Agent, I can possess multiple NEXTs and swap them out. I got these from my last mission."

"And you're here to do what?" Colin stammered. "Infect us all? Turn us into things like you!?"

"Sort of. My target was Dominic Zhang. I'm not sure why the higher ups wanted him as part of the Conglomerate but they do."

Colin forcefully grabbed the mop and lifted it as if it were a spear, readying to jab Garret with the slightly-wet, bleach-smelling head. "I'm not going to let you have him!"

That made Garret smile. "And with that, I'm absolutely sure you're in love with Dominic."

The star athlete balked. "W - W - What?"

Tapping the side of his head, Garret said, "One of my other NEXTs is the ability to alter reality. I can change the very laws of the world if I wanted. If I wanted water to be made exclusively of chlorine, it could happen. If I wanted the sky to always be red, it'd be so." He lifted a paw before Colin could make any protests. "But there are consequences. It's like trying to retcon a series in the middle of the climax. It won't make sense and the world would be torn apart by a vicious and obsessive audience. The changes need to be subtle."

"You call turning five human guys into rabbits, subtle!?"

"In the grand scheme of the universe, what is five people compared to the billions of lives on this planet or the countless others beyond the stars?"

Colin's eyes widened. "There are others?"

Garret nodded. "This universe was created exclusively by the Nexus Conglomerate. We call it a ADBG-6BSLM_R56 which stands for 'Alternate Dimension Both Genders - Six Billion Single Linear Material - Revision' followed by a number that designates it compared to the other similarly configured universes." He pointed at the ground. "This place may be 'Earth' to you but it's an Alternate Dimension Earth to the rest of us and it has both genders. Your planet has a population of six billion, it has a single, linear timeline and it's a material world. Trust me, the classifications get way more complex later on."

He waved a paw through the air to brush aside the topic. "What I wanted to say is that with my reality alterations, I can manipulate the memories and histories of those in my power. Rodney Zhang was transformed to make it seem like he was always the partying horndog that he had always been and this in turn had a domino effect on Dominic to make him more outgoing and affectionate. I changed Mortimer to have ambitions and drive to push Dominic to strive for something instead of resigning himself to a life of delinquency." He narrowed his eyes at Colin. "But you knew that, didn't you? You were watching him. Watching him change."

Colin could only nod shakily.

"Because you love him."

The young man's arms grew slack and he lowered the mop. "What do you want from me?"

"A choice," Garret said firmly. "I know you're in love with Dominic. How long?"

"Since last year when Mortimer Heathrow dropped out," admitted Colin, his eyes cast down. "I... I guess I noticed him when news came about that Heathrow had been kicked out along with the rest of his gang and only Dominic was left behind. I guess I felt sorry for him initially. All his friends had left, he had been forced to stay back and now he was all alone, a pariah in the school because he was automatically associated with those guys. I tried to talk to him but he immediately pushed me away." The young man let out a bitter scoff. "First time I ever got detention for fighting... I told myself that he was just acting out because of his situation so I tried to keep reaching out and we kept getting into fights. After a time... things just... became routine... and then not so routine..."

"You fell in love."

Colin nodded slowly. "One day, he skipped out on school. I suddenly realised I missed fighting with him and... I did some self-analysis and I came to only a single, logical conclusion."

Garret chuckled softly, running a paw down his face. "Love is rarely logical. I know I've done some stupid things in the name of love. Almost led me to retirement." He shrugged his broad shoulders and stepped towards Colin. "Listen Colin, Dominic is going to go through some big changes. I'm going to make him the next big MMA star right up there with Taylor Chavez and Charles Silva. But he's going to need a strong foundation to keep him strong and support him."

Garret took a step forward. Colin didn't move.

"I've given him a family in Rodney," said the coach. "I've given him friends in the shape of Mortimer." Another step forward and now he was within reaching distance of Colin. "Now he just needs you."

Only then did Colin lift his gaze. "Me?"

"Yes. You. He needs someone to constantly challenge him and make him stronger. But not just because he wants to fight. He needs a rival that genuinely cares for his development. I think you fit the bill."

Colin glanced away, clutching the mop tightly against his chest. "What... What would I have to do?"

Garret reached out and gently rested his paws on the young man's shoulders. "Just go with it. I want you to tell me exactly what you want to be for Dominic and I'll make it happen."

"Y - You can do that?"

The big wolf shrugged his broad shoulders. "You saw what happened in there. I can make you anything you want. But I have once condition." He lifted a finger. "You and your family are going to be big, buff kangaroos."

"W - Why?" Colin was shaking where he stood, clutching the mop like it was his only lifeline.

"Because I'm turning Dom into a kangaroo too. Remember what I said about him being stubborn? He needs his foundations to change for him to change. That includes you too."

The young athlete lifted his gaze to meet Garret's. "So... you can make it so that Dominic loves me back?"

"I sure can."

Colin quivered. "I... I don't want to force him into falling in love with me..."

A sense of nobility. That was refreshing. Garret knew a lot of people who would pounce at the chance at making their wet dream love them. "You're a good guy, Colin Meade." He gently rubbed Colin's shoulders. "I'll make it so that you and he are still the best of rivals. In public, you rip into one another like only two best friends could. But in secret, you two fuck constantly. Rodney has someone over new every weekday so you two either spend the night at one another's house or visit the Tim and the PUKs over their frathouse where you both fuck each other like dogs in heat. I'll leave it to you when you want to turn this casual, physical relationship into something more but the spark will be there."

The shaking man lowered the mop. "What would I have to do?"

Garret stepped forward, wrapping Colin in his mighty arms and pressing the dark-skinned varsity player against his chiselled chest. "Just close your eyes and tell me exactly what you want."

The soothing voice of Garret Holt sent waves of comfort and serenity through Colin's tense muscles. A steady beating from the wolf's mighty heart calmed the young, love-struck athlete. Even as Holt's long, slimy dick slid past the waistband of his runner's pants and gently caressed his dick, Colin remained placid. Though he was nervous, his mind racing, the prospect at finally having the courage to confess his affection to Dominic and for them to be together was too good to pass up.

"I... I want to be there for Dominic. I want to be his best friend..."

"That's right," soothed Holt, gently running his big paw down the back of Colin's head. "You've been his best friend since elementary school. Ever since he moved here. He shared his lunch with you."

Before Colin could reject that thought, Holt's dick wrapped around the base of his uncut dick, making him gasp. The touch was oddly arousing and despite himself, he found blood rushing towards his member. Holt gently shushed him and, with his free paw, gently began pulling up that tight shirt that could barely contain the muscle and fur beneath. Colin was left staring at the mesmerising pattern of muscled in front of him while his mind went back to the day when he, a poor city kid, was left with nothing more than one of those cheese stick snacks for lunch. Then Dominic Zhang came up and offered him one of the sandwiches he had been given. From that day on, they had been the best of friends. He loved to play in Dom's penthouse apartment as a kid, secretly jealous of his friend's wealth but glad that Dominic was pretty down-to-earth as well and not spoiled.

"What else?" Holt prompted. "Not just about you and Dominic. Everything. What do you want to change about yourself?"

"I... I don't know..."

"Do you want to be bigger? Bigger muscles?"

"Well... yeah. What guy doesn't - ah!?"

A searing fire erupted from his veins like someone had injected molten magma into them. He gasped and every muscle in his body tightened. The flames burned away what little fat he had in his body was gone, leaving him lean and his abdominals completely ripped. Every part of his body flexed and he tightened like a steel column, especially his dick as it sprang to its full length and throbbed with need. He grunted, inadvertently thrusting into Holt's mighty thighs. The big wolf's prehensile dick curled around the seven-inch length with the thin tip teasingly dancing around the head, playing at the foreskin and sending tingles down Colin's body. Those little shudders cooled the flames all over his body, turning the liquid fire into pure muscle. His biceps were the first to grow, emitting a noise like stretching leather. He was forced to flex them, his arms curling around Holt and holding into the wolf's mighty flanks as he shuddered with new strength.

Then Holt's dick entered him.

The slick cock pushed into his piss slit, sending a wave of pain and the ineffable need to get that thing out of his cock akin to the desperate desire to orgasm. He thrust madly, gagging with a mix of pleasure and pain but every thrust he made only caused Holt's cock to slide deeper and deeper into him until he could feel it stretching his dick to a newfound width to accommodate the wolf's strange member.

"Oh fuck!" he gasped. Even as he kept thrusting, an immense pressure began building at the base of his spine like there was a fiery volcano building just above his ass and was about to erupt.

"What else do you want to change?" came Holt's soothing voice.

"I... I..."

Suddenly, there was a loud ripping noise. That volcano erupted with enough force that his entire body went rigid and he was knocked a foot into the air. His eyes flittered beneath his eyelids. A rush of ecstasy unlike having just orgasmed washed throughout his entire body and his knees were left weak. Holt kept him upright even though his new, enormous, black-furred tail thumped the ground excitedly.

"I want to be taller... Taller than even Dom..."

"You got it."

A loud rumbling hit Colin's ears. Bones and muscles shook madly almost like he was having a seizure but with each vibration sending waves of stimulating sensations towards his dick. Another pressure began building in his balls like everything that changed about him was pushing the human part of him towards his balls to dispose of. He could not deny that it felt good even as his spine stretched and his legs shot upwards. His nose followed the curve of Holt's pectorals as he continued to rise. He nuzzled the Coach's thick, corded neck and instinctively pressed his lips against the wolf's muzzle, tongue darting outwards as he lost his inhibitions and gave in to the primal desire to be with another man that he had kept bottled up for so long. Even as he surpassed the Coach in height - rising to an impressive 8'3'' - he kept their lips locked.

For the briefest of moments, he pulled his lips away from the handsome wolf to say, "I want to be huge. Dominic's punching bag."

Holt just answered by pressing their lips together again. The scorching contact caused Colin's eyes to roll into the back of his head. The pressure in his balls grew stronger and stronger but at the same time, the rest of his body willingly pushed away the visage of the young, African-American athlete that had loved the school delinquent from afar. A fiery conflagration roiled in his chest, burning away the build of a timid goody-goody athlete and replacing it with a literal brickhouse, filling his pectorals with so much muscle that it tore his shirt right down the middle. With his swelling chest also came his shoulders, broadening to a point where even the thick fabric of his ugly letterman jacket could contain them no longer. Falling to his sides and ripped to shreds his chest was practically on full display, just in time for his skin to grow in a pelt of inky, black fur. He hardly noticed the remnants of his sleeves as they failed to slide off his meaty arms before they were just torn right down the middle by his bursting triceps and forearms. With their newly increased size and strength he was finally able to reach his arms around even the titanic Garret and touch one another from around Coach Holt's impressive back.

Holt broke the kiss and licked his lips, running his paws across Colin's bare chest and squeezing those thick, muscled pectorals. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Colin remembered that ever since he grew this huge, he went around shirtless all the time. No one could make anything large enough to fit him comfortably anyway, and any normal cloth would just tear to pieces underneath the slightest flex. It really annoyed Dominic. Even though they were both kangaroos, Dominic had to watch his weight while Colin had no restrictions and could be as big as he wanted. With a laugh, he thought back to all those times he had compared sizes with his best friend, boasted how he was getting gains and then have Dominic kick his ass because despite how big he was, Colin was still the same, kind-hearted boy deep inside.

His lips gravitated towards Holt's once more but before they made contact, he whispered, "I want some tattoos."

The moment their lips met, fire erupted from his left shoulder and right leg. The black fur on his shoulder shifted slightly as a white colouration cut through the hardened scalloped muscles. Intricate, tribal swirls crawled up his shoulder, working their way up towards his traps and finally towards his sinewy neck. The black fur quickly spread ahead of his neck before it the tattoos could spread there. The ink stopped just short of his jawline but the fur kept spreading across his face. His tongue, still on an exploratory route into the wolf's muzzle, lengthened and grew, finding more and more of that lupine mouth to reach into. His own features jutted forward, jaw lengthening, nose flattening and teeth rearranging themselves along the long, thin muzzle of a kangaroo. The fur swept over his ears, chasing away the lengthening flesh as the digits grew into long, points. His dark hair faded into the rest of his fur as the entirely of his features were completely covered.

At the same time, his back burned. The muscles there broadened, hard definitions appear across his traps, his lats, his spine and matching perfectly with his deltoids. The black fur crawled across their surface while a swirling, wing-like pattern of white tattoo ink spread across shoulder blades and curling around his flanks in such a way that the tips of the wings were _just_visible against his flanks and passive pectorals.

The same burning sensation continued on his right leg. Few ever got to see this tattoo. It was only reserved for Dominic. It was the one he had gotten to commemorate the first time they had sex together and Dominic had absolutely loved it. The black fur spread over his huge, muscled thighs, first setting the groundwork. Then, the white ink began to set in took the form of long, billowing parchment, curling around his tree-trunk thighs and all the way down his bulbous calves and with the edges just reaching past the ankles of his enormous feet. The pants he wore shuddered as they had to rapidly shift to adapt to his enormous size. The words 'Zhang Doms Meade' were drawn across the tattoo's length, the major reason he never showed the tattoo to anyone except for those he was really close to. Sure people were teased by it since he never wore shoes but that was all they got to see.

That was just how much he truly loved Dominic.

Colin grunted loudly, his huge arms gripping Holt tightly as the pressure in his cock and balls become overwhelming. The last physical evidence of the, goody-goody, bashful boy he had been were quickly fading. The huge, black-furred, inked and confident kangaroo took that boy's place. All that remained was his six-inch dick which seemed out of place against the titan's form. His thrusting grew more and more feverish and this time, it was as if his cock was greedily devouring Holt's dick. The long, thick member inched further and further down Holt's length, rising out from the rim of his pants. The long, midnight-black dick matched the rest of his fur pattern with thick veins running up and down its entire length. It continued to rise even as precum came pouring out of the tip like a fountain. It rose up past his belly button, breaching a foot long and stopping just past the limit of his bright, pink nipples.

Colin's paws reached up and grabbed the back of Holt's head, pulling the man into a grateful, passionate kiss that he knew he didn't mind having with the wolf who changed him for the better. His features squeezed tight in that moment of ecstasy just before he exploded and then relaxed, eyelids fluttering. Hot, marsupial cum erupted from his dick, plugged as it was by Holt's alien dick, it squirted everywhere. His seed splattered to the left and right, striking both of their linked muzzles and showering the entire maintenance closet with evidence of his misdeeds.

The big, black kangaroo panted, tearing his lips from Holt's muzzle and leaving a trail of drool as he hung onto the Coach's shoulders.

"Is there anything that'll ever compare to this feeling?" he rumbled.

"You're young and in love," Holt said, comfortingly patting the roo's broad back. "There'll be plenty. Now come on. Let's get cleaned up. You've still got school."

******

Dominic was just putting on his gloves in the locker rooms when he caught a familiar scent. Before he could even turn around, two, enormous arms curled around his waist and lifted him up into the air with a mocking roar. A childish laugh left his lips as he hung onto Colin's big, brawny arms and tried not to kick too much. He didn't want to injure his boyfriend's junk after all. He _loved_that 'junk'.

"Asshole!" he exclaimed mockingly.

Colin's fuzzy muzzle pressed against his neck, taking a good, long whiff before setting him back down. The big roo ruffled his flaring mohawk a little before giving him a tender kiss on the cheek. It was a good thing that there weren't any others in the locker room at the time. He always got to practice early and he guessed that after the brutal routine that Coach Holt had put the newbies through the previous day, the number of eager applicants to Fight Club had severely diminished.

Of course Colin was always a constant. Dominic couldn't imagine his life without Colin.

"Got plans for tonight, hot stuff?" Colin asked, showing off that cocky smile off his that Dominic both found endearing and annoying at the same time.

"Not much, really," he answered. "It's Friday so Tim invited me over to the PUK frathouse for a party."

Colin rolled his eyes. "When aren't they partying?" Then he flashed Dominic a bright grin. "Mind if I come along?"

Dominic slyly moved forward, hooked the rim of Colin's pants with a finger and peered down into the barely-contained sheath beneath. Colin always went commando. Considering how he always went around shirtless it was the only piece of clothing he would ever wear. If he could get away with it that is. "Is this because you know exactly how a party at the PUKs will end up?"

His big, burly boyfriend shrugged. "Any excuse to fuck you, right?"

"Like you ever needed an excuse." Dominic released Colin's pants and gave his boyfriend's package a light pat. "Actually, I wanted to go over to his place to discuss other ways of getting into college." His mood quickly diminished. "Turns out that I can't actually apply for that scholarship without my legal guardian signing the form."

"So? Get Rod to sign it."

Dom sucked air through clenched teeth. "See... my dad never actually handed over guardianship to my uncle. Technically, my dad is still my legal guardian. And he's all the way in New York."

Colin visibly balked. "Wait... That fucker is right across the country and not across the fucking Pacific!? And he's never visited once?"

Shrugging, Dom turned around and went back to strapping on his gloves. "Yeah. But it doesn't matter. Coach said there's plenty of other ways to get into the UFC or be a professional MMA fighter. Besides, weren't you always the one that wanted me to go to college."

Colin's arms wrapped around him again but this wasn't the playful, forceful embrace it was before. This was tender, comforting, loving. "Hey, we can still get you that scholarship. Why don't we fly over to NYC, get your dad to sign the damn thing and then be done with it. I mean, worst case we get him to sign-over guardianship to Rod, right? It's no skin off his back."

Dom shook his head. "I really don't know if that'll work. My dad... he's a prideful guy. I don't think he likes the idea of 'losing'. He might even think that getting claim of me as his 'son' while Rod raises me, pays for my tuition, feeds and clothes me and puts a house over my head without him ever paying a cent is a 'win'."

"That's bullshit."

"That's the only explanation I can think of as to why he hasn't even contacted me, not once." Dominic shrugged off Colin's embrace. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. There are other ways and even if I can't fight professionally, I can at least get a solid education and maybe fight a little on the side."

"Dom, you can't just give up on your dreams like that!"

He gave his boyfriend a thin smile. "Sometimes you just have to let dreams go, Colin. I mean, when you were a kid didn't you want to be an astronaut?"

Colin lowered his voice. "Well, yeah but when you think about working for the Nexus Conglomerate, that's way better."

The young man patted the Monolith that was sitting in his pocket. After his confrontation yesterday with Coach Holt, he had asked SABLE everything he could about the Conglomerate. As she explained it, only himself, Colin and Tim and his gang had 'awakened' to their prior memories. Rodney still hadn't. Being an asset of the _Conglomerate_was still something that was up in the air. Colin would follow him wherever he went if it was an asset or not. Tim was just getting the paperwork done. As for Dominic...

"Honestly, that's one of the reasons I wasn't sure about being a professional MMA fighter." Dominic lifted all four of his hands. "I mean, physical traits aside, being an Agent sounds so much more fun especially if I get to go around the place like Garret."

"I... see..." Colin rumbled softly. "It's your choice, babe. You know I'll support you in whatever you do."

"Thanks hun." Dominic leaned forward and wrapped all four of his arms around Colin's muscled chest. "You're the best." He heard the sound of footsteps just outside the locker room and immediately pushed away.

The rest of the Fight Club came marching into the locker room, not at all surprised that the first to guys were the two best fighters in the entire Club. Coach Holt had expanded the definition of 'Fight Club' to more than just punching in the ring. Dominic felt a swell of pride in his chest as he saw chunky guys who aimed to be wrestlers, some martial artists and even some aspiring boxers joining in. Sure the main event was still the big ring in the middle were they could use all their techniques to beat each other senseless but with the school as it was, it couldn't afford to run multiple clubs or teams. So having everyone run under the supervision of one very talented wolf was both economical and a handy outlets for the thugs of the school.

They got ready for their usual sparring match and as with every other day, both he and Colin stood up at opposite ends of the ring with Coach Holt watching from the sidelines. On some unheard bell, the two opponents bounced towards one another - the exercise being easier for Colin given he was a roo now - and began their sparring match.

"Given any thought to what you wanna be when you graduate?" Dom asked, unleashing a quick right-hook that Colin predictably blocked. He immediately followed up with a spinning kick aimed low that also missed but pushed Colin back. Control over the ring was very important and he had his opponent on the defensive. That and since Colin always wore pants to the ring because he didn't want anyone to see his leg tattoo made their sparring matches a little easier. Then again, given how much bigger Colin was, it balanced out.

"As long as I'm with you, I don't really care," answered Colin. He bounced onto his tail, the long muscular appendage offering extra weight for the big roo to lash out with both his legs. Given their length, Dom would've been foolish to take the brunt of the huge blow. But Dom was quick and he immediately slipped to the left, knowing it was Colin's weaker side, and closed the gap between them. Even before Colin had both feet on the ground again, he had unleashed a quick one-two punch from all four of his arms at the big roo's thick chest. Against a normal opponent, that would've been crippling. But the black-furred kangaroo was like a steel bulkhead. He barely budged.

Though Dominic did note that his boyfriend's crotch stirred. It was a good thing Colin was wearing track pants.

"Come on man," he said, dancing away out of the roo's long reach. "You've got to have something you want to do."

"You mean apart from you?"

He walked right into that comment, just like he nearly walked right into the big roo's tail as he swept it at his legs even before he managed to get back onto his feet. Soon it became like a jump-rope challenge as his toes barely touched the ring's floor before he was jumping one leg at a time to avoid the thick length.

"Dude, seriously. I know I'm the centre of your universe and shit but you are not going to be a stay-at-home dad."

Colin's long ears perked up. "Dad? Thinking of kids?"

He faltered. The words had stumbled out of his mouth inadvertently and he could see even Coach Holt was rather surprised by the question. "I... uh..."

That had been the distraction that Colin needed and Dominic cursed himself mentally for allowing himself to lose focus. He barely had enough time to bring up his arms over his face before his boyfriend's huge fist smacked into his forearms and caused him to stagger back. Thankful for his new pair of arms, he was able to block off the second blow that came for his abs. Dom could see Colin was enjoying this sparring session in more than one way judging by the thick outline of his cock through his pants.

"Stay focused, Dom!" Holt barked from a little ways away as he was supervising a few of the guys practicing some karate moves.

"So no kids?" taunted Colin, bouncing cheerfully from one foot to the other.

Dominic rolled his shoulders dramatically. "Babe, I don't even know if I _can_have kids or should. I mean, look at me!" For emphasis, he flexed all four of his arms, two rising over his head and the other two clenched downwards just over his crotch. That made Colin stop and visibly adjust himself. It was another opening that he quickly took advantage of and charged forward. He swung the clenched hands upwards in an upwards hammer blow. The first move was slow and Colin easily dodged it but Dominic had a second pair of arms which he quickly used to throw two quick hits to Colin's shoulders.

The big, black roo staggered back and fell against the ropes of the ring. "There's always adoption."

"So the kid who got not-so-abandoned by his prick of a dad, raised by his awesome partying uncle decides to adopt a kid. Might look good on paper but I'm _pretty_sure adoption agencies may not like the idea of a guy with a history of getting smashed in the face professionally adopting someone."

"We could always go surrogate."

"Aren't we a little too young to be having kids?"

"We're from the inner city! If we weren't gay, we should've knocked up someone by now. Hell, we should be on our second kid."

Dom couldn't help but laugh at that and it helped take his mind off the looming fear that he may not be able to realise his dream of being a professional MMA fighter after all. His father was still a big blockade in his path and he wasn't sure how to confront the man - if he should confront him at all. The idea of bullying him with all his strength and acting like the tough guy just did not suit him. A few days ago, that was what the old Dominic Zhang would've done. But now...

He had to find an opening or work around his opponent's strengths, keep his footing and stay aware. That was how a good fighter dealt with his enemy.

At the end of practice, he told Colin that he was heading over to see Tim. His boyfriend replied by telling him not to eat as he was going to cook. Rodney had promised that this night he would spend with his nephew and boyfriend for a bit of 'bonding'. Admittedly, considering his uncles promiscuous behaviour it almost sounded like a pick-up line. But for Rodney, family came first - family always came first. So with that in mind, Dom headed out to Plateau State College, specifically the Phi Upsilon Kappa fraternity house. By the time he got there, the sun was just setting that that already meant that the gayest fraternity in the United States was already in full swing.

It was strange as he strode through the same old streets of Blue Plateau. Just a week ago, he would have stalked the streets in his spiked leather jacket, back slouched, hands in his pocket, head slumped down and scowling at everyone that passed him by. Strange as it may seem, though these were the same graffiti-scrawled buildings and the same piss-smelling alleys, he saw it all in a different light. The man he had been, that punk, was someone without a future who would've made such places his home. He would've been a pierced, leather-clad ghost haunting the same places as before. If he could meet that same kid, he would've kicked that punk's ass just for being so naïve.

Coach Holt really had turned him around and for that, he was eternally grateful.

It wasn't hard to find the PUK frat house. No surprise that there were a myriad of lights hanging from the rooftops of the three-storey building all in the rainbow pattern that lit up the sky as the sun was setting. No one in PUK was subtle about their sexuality and that meant there were large cock-shaped balloons filled with helium hovering along the stone path to the house itself. The partygoers were mostly naked with only jockstraps, hot pants or just _very_long shirts hanging over their genitals. No _actual_cocks or balls were showing; just... poorly hidden.

Dominic also admired that there was a whole host of body types and species in the house. Humans and furs alike from the twink freshman to the burly daddy faculty supervisor were just enjoying their Friday night. Memories of the Mortimer Heathrow that had once led a gang too afraid to do something _really_criminal and yet so anti-establishment not to conform made him smile. He saw one of his former gang members perched on what was clearly a sex swing hanging from an oak tree outside the house with another guy on his lap. They were still very much sticking it to The Man. Quite literally in some cases.

Some of the other PUK members greeted him and more than one squeezed his ass or went in for a grope. It was all very flattering and though he loved Colin greatly, they were both very open to having someone else join in their fun. God knows, Rod had jumped into bed with them more than enough times. With the two big roos and Dominic sandwiched between them, weekend nights were seldom spent sleeping. The young MMA enthusiast could hardly wait for the day when he would become a big roo as well.

The thoughts of his upcoming weekend started to get him excited, tenting his bright red sports shorts. That acted like a magnet and more than a few guys started gravitating towards the big, four-armed brute that had strode into the house. The smell of beer and cum was thick in the air. It seemed that the PUKs were having a joint party with their sorority equivalents, the Theta Iota Thetas. There were quite a few lesbian couples as well and more than a few of them were getting quite excited at the sight of the two big men fucking on the rug in the middle of the lounge.

"Hey," Dominic said, grabbing one of the PUK members. "Have you seen Tim? Tim Heathrow?"

"Yeah. He's in his room upstairs."

"Thanks man." He 'thanked' the kind fratboy with a grope before heading up to the second floor. Though there was loud music - to drown out the sound of sex - coming from the first floor, the second was surprisingly quiet. The walls were made to be soundproof. With so many horny guys under the one roof with no concept of monogamy, it was a godsend.

Dom found Tim's room and didn't bother knocking before opening the door. The hot smell of musk instantly filled his nostrils as well as the loud noises of Tim and another guy loudly fucking on his soaked bed. The room was a mess of law books as thick as Dom's arm and phallic toys coated with lubricant to satisfy any man. There was a single bed, king sized which was the standard for all PUKs. On the bed, twisted in his bright blue sheets, was Tim with his big, bunny dick embedded into a little, man who was burying his face right into the thick chest fur. The young man moaned loudly and buried his face into the thick, white fur. Tim thrust and his latest conquest gasped, pulling his face away from the cushion of fur with his lips wide open and eyes rolled back into his head. It surprised Dom when he noticed that there were long strands of stray fur sticking out of the guy's face like they had detached from Tim's chest and were now sticking to the man's cheeks. Even more of a surprise was when those very same hairs began wiggling and seemingly burying themselves further into the supple, human flesh. Where they stuck, more hair grew around it and the man's features began to change. Within moments, Tim was fucking another rabbit and the two of them came loudly.

"Ahem," Dom said, coughing softly.

Tim noticed him as the newly made bunny collapsed onto the bigger rabbit's chest in exhaustion. "Hey Dom! Why didn't you say anything earlier? You could've joined us!"

"Uh... No thanks. I didn't want to get your... uh... hair on me."

Tim gave him a smirk and pulled his cock out of his partner's ass. He gave the guy a light smack on the ass and ushered him out. The bunny groggily left the room, a dopey, dazed smile on his face. Once the two of them were alone, Tim lounged in his bed, crossing his arms behind his head and shuffling over so that Dom could have some space.

"Don't worry about me getting you 'infected'. That's just my NEXT and I can control who it changes. Apparently, I can turn others into more rabbits like me if they get in contact with my fur! It's how I turned the rest of the gang!"

"Is that safe?" Dom asked cautiously. "I mean, you shouldn't be turning people wantonly, you know."

His best friend nodded towards his table where a Monolith sat. "SABLE told me to target Liam and turn him. Apparently, he's someone who was keeping a close on the memberships of the PUKs and us appearing out of nowhere sort of made him suspicious. This'll help settle things and let us stick around."

"Oh... Okay." Dom padded over and sat at the edge of the bed. Though he was nonplussed about parking his bubble butt on the freshly soiled sheets, he found he was in no mood to get intimate with Tim. Which surprised him. He had come to the PUKs for that very same purpose. And yet, now that he was here, he couldn't find himself getting aroused anymore despite earlier having sported a boner.

"Something bothering you?" Tim asked.

His mind was a mess with a maelstrom of emotions. Looking at his own four hands, he was forced to wonder... could he really find a place in the world of professional MMA fighting or would he perpetually be the exception? Would he be the kid that always dreamed of being a fighter and only ever got to the major leagues because he was born differently? It reminded him of all the looks he got from bystanders when he was still a punk. They avoided him, they threw foul looks when he wasn't looking but secretly, they pitied him because they always thought themselves to be better than him.

"Dom!"

He jumped as Tim's paw rested on his shoulder.

"Dude, is everything okay?" asked the rabbit.

Dominic lowered his gaze and let out a soft sigh. "Just thinking about shit, man. I know Coach Holt changed you so that I could start looking at a future but it sort of feels like I'm being torn between two paths, you know? There's the one about being a professional MMA fighter..." He held up one hand. "Then there's the one where I go to college and pursue another career."

Tim straightened and parked himself right next to Dom. "There's also the other choice where you don't do any of that and just go back to being a no-good punk, just loitering on the streets, mooching off your uncle who's breaking his back for you and giving your dad a very good reason not to associate himself with you."

He dropped his hands and gave his best friend a foul look. "Yes, thank you Tim."

"There's also a fourth option."

A fourth option? Definitely not the last time he counted. "What's that?"

"Join the Conglomerate full time," quipped Tim. "You could be an Agent just like Coach Holt." He inclined his head to the side. "Though honestly, given that we're kind of the pioneers of a certain NEXT, I'd say we'd either be more Specialists or if you're into getting mechanical implants, Technicians."

"Huh?" Dom jerked his head back in surprise. "Wait, are you thinking about...?"

Tim beamed brightly and pointed at the books on the table. "Yeah! I'm already reading up on all the stuff the Conglomerate are up to and Garret signed me up to their training program. They've got crazy technology dude. I mean, I used to think there was nothing for me in this world and I was sort of right! There's a so much more outside of this world! Garret even took me to Dad's Mug -"

Dominic shook his head and held up a hand to curb Tim's excitement. "Whoa, wait. Back up." He held up a finger. "Firstly, what the fuck is Dad's Mug?"

"It's this huge space station," Tim explained. From what the excitable rabbit said, Dominic mentally painted a picture of a huge, hollow cylindrical space station out in the middle of the network of universes that was filled with water. Apparently, it was as big as an entire continent by Earth standards with the rims of the station built for residential and holiday makers. The water in the middle acted sort of like an ocean complete with its own ecosystem.

"Uh... Okay," he said, scratching his head slightly. "And... you're seriously training to be part of the Conglomerate?"

Tim smiled and gave him a gentle pat on the hand. "I used to see the world like everyone was against me. I had to challenge everything but I was too chicken to actually do something about it. But the _Conglomerate_encourages me to get stronger and to take up the challenge."

"Like any other corporate stooge?"

Tim threw his head back and laughed. "I know it sounds like it's a heartless corporation but it really isn't. Garret should know. Ask him about how he was almost forced into retirement."

He frowned. "Coach Holt was almost retired...?"

"Trust me, the Conglomerate cares for its assets." He jerked his chin towards the books. "It's an option for you, Dom. Just think about it."

Definitely food for thought but it didn't quell the storm that was raging in his mind. "Thanks Tim." He rose from the soaked bed and let out a soft sigh. "God, I feel like such a prude coming all the way here and not even getting off once."

"I'm more than just a horny buddy, man." Tim stood up as well and gave him a tender embrace. "I'm your best friend too. Anytime you have a problem, you know how to contact me. Hell, I can even be here before you decide to contact me. The Conglomerate has this continuum predictive algorithm that -"

He pushed away from Tim and held up his hands. "Yeah... yeah, okay. Just the sound of 'continuum predictive algorithm' just made me brain hold up a big 'nope' sign. See you later, Tim."

"Take care, bud. You might want to take the rear exit. You'll be running the gauntlet through the front."

It was a good point. Most of the guys were at the front of the house and while he was adamant about not having sex this evening, he would be accosted by more than one man on his way out if he went through the front door. So Dominic, heart still heavy, moved back down the stairs and headed out the rear exit through the kitchen. It was admittedly still packed with horny guys and two horses going at it on the kitchen island but they ignored him.

The surprise came when he headed out towards the streets and found a big, black truck waiting for him.

"Coach Holt," Dom said upon approaching the big, grey-furred wolf leaning against his truck. "Great to see -"

"Get dressed," Holt said, tossing him some clothes. "We're going on trip."

"A trip? Where to?"

"New York City."

There was no question what this trip was about. "Coach, I don't -"

"Remember what I said about the foundations of your life?" Garret said sternly. "You've got four strong pillars holding you up right here. Rod, Tim, Colin and me. But you've got a load-bearing pillar right in the middle of your skyscraper rotting with mould and infested by termites. You let that fester, it's going to spread all throughout the entire building and eat you up inside. We've got to sort this out."

He knew Garret was right. There was a bit of irony that now he was this fit, strong athlete but was still a coward that whittled away his time picking meaningless fights when the biggest fight of his life loomed over him.

"Alright. Let's go."

Garret drove him straight to the airport. In the back of the truck, he managed to get dressed into something apart from his singlet and sports shorts. It was a simple white shirt and a pair of casual cargo shorts. A red hoodie was layered on top as well given that it would be cold further up north. They passed through airport security easily and were on the flight a short while after.

Dominic felt rage bubbling up in his chest at the thought of confronting his father. Though he claimed to be content with Cameron Zhang's shadow always looming over him, he couldn't help but picture the man's face on a punching bag every time he threw a punch. That was unbecoming of a professional fighter. He had to remain cool under pressure even when he was hurting all over.

They were on the plane and halfway to New York when he finally asked, "What do I do when I meet my dad?"

Garret rifled through his bag and pulled out a folder. "These are adoption papers." He handed the folder to Dominic then reached for another one. "These is the scholarship application. When you go meet your dad, you give him a choice. Either sign the adoption papers and have Rodney become your official dad and legal guardian or he sign the scholarship application and do the first fatherly thing he's ever done in his life."

"Why even give the asshole a choice," he snarled. He lowered his voice. "Can't we just fuck him and turn him into one of us?"

Garret shook his head grimly. "That'd cause irreparable damage to the fabric of reality. Remember, Cameron Zhang is on the cover of magazines. He's inspired and manipulated people all over the globe. Being in the public eye makes things _very_difficult, nearly impossible in fact." The big wolf handed the second folder to Dom. "Let's not forget that your father actually has a mistress. Multiple, in fact."

Dominic's four hands clenched into fists. "That asshole..."

Garret grumbled softly and nodded. "I couldn't agree more. Honestly, I don't think a man like that deserves to have a second chance. I also fear for what'd happen if we change him and he eventually finds out who he had been." He gave the Dominic boys a small smile. "The way you work so well is because though I've changed you physically and mentally, there was some part of you that always wanted this." He gently patted Dominic's shoulder. "Dom, you've always known that you're a fighter. You've been fighting your entire life. You just wished you were fighting for something worthwhile. I gave you that opportunity and you pounced on it. You could've gone back any time you want but you didn't. But your father..."

The aspiring fighter understood and just nodded grimly. "I know. We make him into a loving father and maybe a fucktoy but it's not going to stick." His wrists were shaking. "Damnit... I want to punch him right in his fucking mouth..."

Garret gripped two of his hands. "Easy there," said the big wolf softly. "Don't give your dad any more reason to not sign those papers. You want to get into the league, right? So let's just ask him nicely, show him that he has nothing to gain from keeping you on the hook like this."

Dominic calmed and nodded shortly. Tim had been right. There were many options available to him. He shouldn't close those paths right now.

"_Or_that it could benefit him if it got out that his son was a professional fighter and at the top of his class," continued the coach. "The guy is all about costs versus benefits. It'll just cost him one signature. We foot the bill on everything else. He gets touted as a proponent of diversity given your heritage and he gets more exposure because of your efforts."

"Diversity?" Dom asked.

"You're a kangaroo."

"No I'm -" Then he paused, realising what Garret's endgame was. "Oh... Okay. I guess I am."

"That's my boy," Garret chuckled, patting the back of his hand.

Dominic found that he was bouncing between blinding rage against his father and nervous anticipation for their confrontation. The options before him could lead to a future as an MMA fighter, to be on the world stage and win all the accolades. That had been his goal, his_dream_, since Coach Holt had walked into his life. It was almost amusing how he had thought Holt had just been this meathead that had nowhere to go but the worst school in the world. But things had turned out so much more differently since that fateful encounter.

"Hey Coach," he began softly, "I spoke to Tim earlier. He said you were almost forcibly retired?"

Garret lifted an eyebrow. "Did he now? He's not lying."

"What happened?"

The big wolf shrugged his shoulders and settled into the broad seats. "A mission went horribly wrong. Though I made it out, I had to undergo a lot of rehab. The docs said that while I was physically fit, I was at the end of my rope. Said I'd served long enough and I deserved time off."

"How long have you been an Agent?"

There was a strange, distant look in Garret's eyes. "Let's just say that most Agents with my sort of tenure don't come around very often. Those that do are so good at their job they would never have made the rookie mistake I did. That's what made the doctors think I was breaking."

"So why didn't you take the retirement?"

The wolf cocked his head to the side for a moment like he was trying to think before turning to Dominic with a small smile. "I guess I'm a lot like you. I was looking for something to fight for."

"Did you find it?"

Garret took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Honestly, I like to think I have." He gave Dom a light kiss on the forehead. "You guys are definitely worth fighting for."

The plane landed a short while later and, miraculously, there was an identical truck to the one they had left in Blue Plateau waiting for them in airport parking. By the time they had arrived, it was already the middle of the night and New York City was in full swing. Passing all the flashing lights and busy streets made Dominic realise just how small Blue Plateau was. At this time of night, the streets were empty because people were too afraid to go out in the crime-ridden streets. Even though he lived in the city as well, it was a very different city compared to Manhattan.

He almost laughed at the sight of the tall apartment building that they parked next to. In many ways, it was identical to the one he lived in. Garret led the way and worked his magic on the receptionist. She rang the penthouse. Dom's keen ears picked up his father's voice from the receiver.

"Good evening, Mr. Zhang," said the red-haired woman with a rather severe haircut, "a wolf and a young man are here to see you."

"What? Who? I'm not expecting any guests."

"The young man is apparently your son."

There was a pause on the other end.

"Fine. Send them up."

Dominic hadn't realised he had held his breath until that moment and let it out softly. Garret led the way towards the elevator and just like back home, he was taken up to the top floor. He found himself shaking. Unlike back home, though, when the lift doors sprang open, he wasn't greeted by a hallway leading into the penthouse. Instead, the doors swung open right into the penthouse itself.

Cameron Zhang's abode was a testament to the man's ego. There were huge posters on the wall consisting of blown-up version of magazine covers he had been on. His diplomas and degrees were perched on the walls and there was even a display case filled with awards that he had received for being an expert financial adviser in his younger years. Now that he owned his own company, he had a huge crystal sculpture of his own company's logo smack dab in the middle of the atrium so that anyone stepping through those doors immediately knew who they were addressing.

As for the man himself, Cameron came striding out from one of the large double doors at the far end of the atrium dressed in a black suit. His features were severe, his thin lips permanently set into a frown. The full head of hair - admittedly with greying temples - glassed and age were really the only thing separating Cameron from Dominic. Both of them had the high cheekbones and sharp chin that made them rather handsome. Though Dominic was taller than his father and more athletic, there was no doubt who had sired the young man in the red hoodie, cargo pants and with the sweeping mohawk.

Dominic instantly became aware of his father's disproving stare and fought the urge to turn around and run. Garret's big paw on his shoulder stopped him from doing anything cowardly.

"So you're Dominic," were the first words out of Cameron's mouth. Not, 'So you're my son' or even 'Good evening'. The words were blunt, piercing and felt like the man was greeting an interviewee instead of his own flesh and blood.

"Uh... Hi..." greeted Dom, lifting one of his hands.

Cameron's dark eyes drifted away from Dom and towards Coach Holt. He was clearly a little more impressed by the imposing wolf but there was no hiding the slight curl of disgust in his lips. "And you are?"

"Garret Holt," answered the big wolf. "I'm Dominic's high school coach."

"And you are the one that tracked me down. How?"

"Hard to miss the 'most financially successful man of the year'."

The faintest ghost of a smile crept across Cameron's lips and he glanced at one of the posters. Dom was pretty sure his dad was checking himself out in the reflection of the glass. "Very true." Then the businessman's eyes darted back to Garret. "Curious though, that a you would go to such extreme lengths to resolve what I assume are abandonment issues of a student on a high school coach's salary."

Dominic stepped forward. "Coach Holt is - "

Holt gently patted his shoulder, prompting him to cut off his protests. "I have my resources and reasons, Mr. Zhang. What matters now is that you and your son talk. I'll wait down at the lobby." He nodded towards Dominic. "Head on down whenever you're ready."

Though every part of him wanted to protest and beg Garret not to leave him alone, Dominic realised that would be a sign of weakness. He could not show any sort of weakness against Cameron Zhang. Garret quietly left leaving him standing across the room from his father with that huge crystal statue of Zhang Finance looming between them.

Cameron turned towards one of the large, wooden cabinets in the atrium. "Do you drink?"

Though he had downed the odd beer or two especially with the PUKs, he never had anything like bourbon or whiskey. Would that make him sound unrefined? Less mature? "Uh... No. alcohol isn't good for the... uh... for working out."

"At least you take care of your body." Cameron gave him a sidelong glance, particularly focusing on the presence of his extraneous arms. "Such as it is."

Dominic wanted to shout and say that it took a lot of effort to craft his body to the way it was. Most workout equipment was not built for people with four arms. Hell, even doing bicep curls meant he had to be sure he didn't hit himself. Bench presses were equally as difficult since he had four pectorals instead of the standard two. Without the specialised clothing Coach Holt and the Conglomerate gave him, he was perpetually showing off his nipples. Which was admittedly sexy but still...

"Thanks..." muttered Dominic, lowering his gaze. "I... uh... I was honestly hoping to get a scholarship."

"A scholarship," Cameron scoffed. He opened the cabinet and poured himself some amber-coloured liquid. "Nothing more than an excuse to reward hard work with a free pass. You are at school to learn not be rewarded for being smart. It is my opinion that you should work to earn your keep. Pay your own way into college and study."

"Ah... I guess that's how you got to where you are..."

"Naturally." He took a sip from the drink and turned towards Dominic. "So if you came here expecting some money for whatever it is you need, you can forget it."

"No, no!" he said, holding up his hands. "Nothing like that... uh..." He wasn't sure what to call his biological father. For all intents and purposes, Rod was his dad. This... man didn't even really make him. Coach Holt did that. "I... I just wanted to get to know my dad..."

Cameron rolled his eyes. "You flew across the entire country on a Friday evening just to get to know me? Read a finance magazine. You'll know all you have to." He shook his head and pointed accusingly at Dominic. "No. You want more. As I've said, I'm not giving you a cent. I may have sired you but I made sure I didn't raise you just for this occasion."

Those words caused Dominic to balk. "Wait... what?"

"If you drag me into some sort of legal battle over some preconceived notion of me owing you money, then you're in for some disappointment." Cameron took another sip and when he set his glass down, his lips had turned upwards into a cruel smile. "I won custody over you and as far as the law is concerned, you were just living away from my place of residence and with your uncle. There's no child support case here. Besides, you're now legally an adult." He scoffed again, paying particular attention to Dominic's hair. "Not a decent adult either from all appearances."

"I just -"

"No, you listen to me." Cameron made a slicing motion with his free hand. "I was your 'father' for the first eighteen years of your life but now that you're no longer a minor, your actions are on your own. I don't owe you _anything_and if you came here for some heart-warming reconciliation or 'father-son' time, you can forget it." He picked up his glass again. "I only married your mother so that all the other bastards around me would stop asking when I was getting married. I married a fur so that it would stop the rumours of me being racist. I agreed to laying with that woman so that she'd shut up about having a kid." He snarled at Dominic. "Biggest regret of my life. You're barely human."

"But that's not -"

"You should be grateful," Cameron ranted. "You're alive because of me. I sent you to Rodney. I never would've had time for a child let alone one that is such a mutant. Rodney, the carefree slacker that he is, wouldn't have cared what raising a freak like you would've done for his career prospects. Little wonder he doesn't even own his own company like me."

That was the last straw.

"Okay, you know what -"

"And you've been clearly raised to become a brute! That 'coach' who brought you here -"

"That's enough!" Dominic roared, stamping his foot angrily. His toes tingled from the impact, blood pumping through his veins. "You listen to me you stuck up, egotistical fuck!" He pointed at Cameron angrily. "You can insult me all you want but don't you dare fucking talk smack about Rod or Coach Holt! They've done more to raise me than you ever did!"

Cameron wrinkled his nose like he had just smelled something terrible. He took a sip of his drink again, draining it fully. "If I had raised you -"

"I would've turned out to just a big an asshole as you!" Dominic spread his arms. "Actually, you know what? That's a compliment to assholes because I like_assholes. Sticking my dick into them, for that matter and getting mine stuffed. Yeah, _dad, I'm fucking gay. Love it too. Hell, I'm friends with guys from my local Phi Upsilon Kappa frat! You know them, don't you? Gayest fraternity in the US?"

Cameron didn't even get a word in because Dominic stamped his foot again to silence him. This time, the impact caused a discernible ripping noise as black claws jutted out from the tips of his shoes. His father didn't even notice.

"Rod has been there through thick and thin for me. He put a roof over my head, food on the table and still has time to fuck around. He loves me, Cameron. I'm not some inconvenience to him. He took me in, his brother's son, and raised me as his own. Hell, even though he's got a fulltime job and parties all night, he still has time for me! He spends all weekend with me and even helps me with my homework!"

It looked like Cameron was about to say something but Dominic used his skills learned from Garret in this battle of words. He had thrown a fake punch and now Cameron was hoping to counter it. But his dad had only taken the bait and now Dominic was moving in with the follow-up.

"And don't you fucking dare say that getting help on my school work is a sign of weakness. Because it's not! It just shows I'm richer than you in at least one aspect and that's in friends and family. That's what counts." With a broad, sweeping gesture, he indicated the posters, awards and even the big sculpture at the centre of the room. "When I look around this room, I see all the money and fame you have but I also see that you're all alone. You live up here on the top of the world amongst sharks, Cameron."

His father's knuckles went white as he gripped the glass. "I...am...your -"

"No you're not!" Dominic snapped. "You are in no way my father. Just because you fucked my mom, doesn't mean you're my dad. All you ever know is what will benefit you, but you're also well aware that if you so much as slip up once everyone around you will tear you to shreds. You have to constantly keep yourself afloat, paddling in the waters with others that would willingly push you under the waves and use your damn corpse as a floatie."

That was when he realised it. Cameron Zhang was just like him just over a week ago. Both of them were stuck in their own worlds surrounded by people who did nothing to inspire them to move out of the pit that they wallowed in. The only difference was that while Tim had been disenfranchised by the world and actually saw Dom as a friend, the people Cameron surrounded himself with were constantly looking for a weakness to tear him down and send him to the poorhouse. Both had been perpetually alone; walling themselves off from the rest of the world but while Dominic's walls had been made of studded leather, foul language and his fists, Cameron's were gilded, covered in money and likely a security detail.

He could only feel pity for his father.

"You're alone," Dominic said, his voice lowering softly. "Even with all your fame and fortune, you're still spending your Friday nights up here, alone with no one but your own face looking back at you. Don't you think that's worth changing?"

Cameron narrowed his gaze - almost squinting - at his son. "And you can save me from this?"

Dominic held out a hand. "We can be a family. You can be around people that actually care for you instead of your money."

The tingling in his feet grew until it felt like it had fallen asleep. He curled his toes, his claws shredding significant opening into his shoes. A brief respite from the sensation came as his feet burst right through the rest of his shoes, leaving the footwear looking more like open-toed sandals. Each toe ended in a big, black claw and was covered in short, creamy brown fur. No human size could ever fit the enormous paws. Thick veins pulsated from the backs of his feet, roiling upwards into his calves. Muscles inflated and he resisted the urge to bounce on his toes like he was in another sparring match. Though his eyes were still focused on Cameron, he could feel himself changing as he shook off his father's ghost.

"A weak tactic," Cameron jeered. "The moment you mentioned money, your ploy failed."

"This isn't a ploy!" Dominic pleaded.

His legs stretched and grew, placing him even taller than his father. Calves ballooned out to stretch out his pants until the fabric was almost ready to tear apart at the seams. Strangely, the length of the pants remained in line with his height even as his thighs widened and forced him to permanently walk with a strut to keep them from rubbing against one another and wearing down the crotch. The same chocolate brown fur that covered his feet sprang up all over his legs making sure of emphasis every muscle and curve.

"I was just like you not so long ago," he said. "I was stuck. I was constantly fighting to keep myself afloat but I didn't have anywhere to go, no overarching goal. It was constantly a fight just to stay alive. But then Coach Holt, Rod, my friends and yes, my boyfriend, all changed that for me. It's hard - hell, it's impossible- to change all by yourself when you've got these foundations so embedded deeply into the ground. But when those change, so do you."

He kept his hand held out. "So please, Cameron. From someone that's been there. Change. There's no future for you like this."

His father didn't move for a long moment but just the look in the man's eyes already confirmed what Dominic knew. Dominic let out a soft, resigned sigh as his chest expanded, pushing the hoodie until it was impossible to mix the distinctive V-shape of his long, four-armed torso. He wiggled his fingers a little as he lowered the outstretched hand. Black claws jutted from the tips of his fingers and that same brown fur swept down his hands, avoiding the spots where the black, leathery pawpads appeared. The sleeves of the unique hoodie were stretched taut but it had been specially made to ensure that even as big as he was, it would not restrict his movements.

Cameron set his glass down one last time. "No man offers anything without wanting anything in return." He lifted his head slightly. "If you're applying for a scholarship, you'll need the signature of your legal guardian. Though you are a consenting adult, you will still need it since you are applying to college. That is what you want from me. I am still your legal guardian, your father."

Dominic held up the two folders he had been clutching tightly. "I've got the forms here. One of them is actually an adoption form. If you want me out of your hair, to never bother you again or whatever, you can sign me over to Rod. We'll never bother you again and you'll never have to be associated with me."

His father rolled his eyes and gave him a dark, calculating smile. "You clearly never made any critical deals before. You never show your hand before the other party." He lifted his hands into the air. "Boy, I didn't outright sign you over to anyone else or even put you up for adoption because of what you are. You're my interracial son. You go ahead and be the top thug in the world, using your fists to do the talking. But in the end, you'll always know that I've got a hand on your leash. My fingers are hovering right around your throat ready to choke the life out of you until you beg me to stop. You'll get nothing out of me but rest assured that I will get something from you."

Cameron smirked confidently. "Think about it, boy. You think that you_would be an embarrassment to me because of the life you choose? It's the other way around. You're going to be the punk that deals with all the women, all the drugs, all the fighting. _I'm the respected businessman with his own corporation and the one with all the resources. Anything 'illegal' pinned against me could be easily thrown in your direction."

Dom's eyes widened in terror just as the brown fur crept up his thick, corded neck, stopping short of his jawline. "You wouldn't!"

"I'll be the caring father who quietly supported his son from a distance knowing full well what a delinquent he is," Cameron laughed. "Even if I sign you over to Rodney I can still say that I supported you, I signed your application to college! I'm the one that set him on the path to stardom and gave him all the resources to be the best he could be but he still threw it all away by embezzling money out of my own corporation to fuel his drug-fuelled orgies! I can just say that you decided to disavow me as your father in some pathetic attempt to squeeze more money out of me!"

"But you never gave me a cent!"

"Just because there's no money trail doesn't mean that people won't _look_in that direction." Cameron tapped the side of his head. "Expectations management, boy. Wave a big enough light and that's all people will talk about."

Dominic felt his heart break and sink to his stomach where it was barricaded behind his steel-like abdominals. At least there it couldn't be damaged any further.

"Ahem."

The familiar voice made them both freeze and Dominic was assaulted by the familiar, musky, lupine scent of Garret Holt stepping up beside him. He turned towards the big wolf just as his jawline jutted forward into the long, pointed muzzle of a kangaroo. His big ears flared out behind his head, perfectly positioned on either side of his flaring hair almost as if he never had a mohawk at all.

"Garret..." he murmured.

"Sorry to interrupt," Garret said. "But you guys were taking a while and I was worried."

"We were just wrapping up," Cameron said with a smirk. He nodded towards Dominic. "So what'll it be, son? Adoption or the scholarship."

Dominic looked at the two papers on either side of him and once again found himself at a crossroads. There was a future for him but no matter which one he chose, he would be haunted by the ghost of his father using him as a patsy. No matter how good he was, his past would always haunt him.

"Or we could sue."

Garret's words made him freeze and he snapped his gaze back towards his Coach.

"Don't be ridiculous," snorted Cameron. "On what grounds?"

"Does it really matter?" countered Garret with a shrug. "Your biological son whom you refuse to surrender custody over, whom you abandoned and never contacted over the course of his entire life even though you lived on the same country?" Maybe we won't sue. Maybe we'll go to the media instead. Make this a public spectacle." Garret glanced at the posters around the room. "Can you imagine the headlines, now Mr. Zhang? The scandal it would make. You're the public image of your own corporation. To have that smeared by your neglect and ruthlessness. Sure, people agree that such an approach is what's needed in your cutthroat business, but no one wants that exposed. And just like Dom said, the moment you show any signs of weakness, the sharks will come."

Cameron didn't even show any signs of being disturbed. "You don't have the resources. I have hundreds of lawyers are my command. What do you have?"

Garret lifted a challenging eyebrow. "Look out the window, Mr. Zhang. Right out to the city."

Frowning, Cameron did as he was told and Dominic did the same. Both of them dropped their jaws to the ground. All the lights of the city suddenly flickered. Canvass of skyscrapers had every light in every room flicker until suddenly, only select rooms or offices were left on; specifically ones that spelled 'Hello Cameron Zhang' against the buildings.

"I don't just work for a high school, Mr. Zhang," Garret said smugly. "I work for a corporation that _far_outstrips yours. So much so that I think my boss is going to give you a call in three... two... one..."

There was a soft buzzing from Cameron's breast pocket.

"You best get that, Mr. Zhang. No one keeps the Director waiting."

"The Director..." Dom whispered. It was the first he had ever heard of Garret's boss and he found his throat closing up even as the big, muscular tail that burst from the seat of his pants thumped at the ground excitedly.

Cameron Zhang pulled out his expensive looking phone and placed it to his ear. Dominic perked his own ears to try and catch the conversation.

"Who is this?" snarled the corporate leader. "How did you get this number?"

"I got this number because I wanted to, Mr. Zhang," came the cool, dark voice from the other side. "In fact, I think I want to put this conversation on speaker phone." Suddenly, the Director's voice erupted from the phone and Cameron jumped back in surprise, holding the phone out at arm's length. "That's better."

"What? How did you -?"

"I am in no way obliged to answer your questions, Cammie."

"My name is -"

"Whatever I decide to call you."

"You can't talk to me like that! I'm -"

"A rich, egotistical asshole that doesn't care about his own employees let alone his own son. I care for each and every person that's under my employ, Zhang. Looking at you makes me sick. I have half a mind to completely ruin your stock. What's the password to your personal account again? Wasn't it 5H4NG?"

Cameron's eyes widened. "What the...? Are you hacker!?"

"Heavens no. But I know a lot about you, Zhang. I know how you had that prostitute killed and dumped in the Hudson after she threatened to expose you. I know how you made that backdoor deal with the head of Trine Co. to manipulate the market share on steel thus driving down demand in America and allowing your branches in China to capitalise on it. I know that you're aspiring to become the next president and are, in fact, hoping to use your marsupial son as a means to get the fur vote. Wouldn't that be a nice headline? Asian-American, born here, built his company over in China, had a son with a distinctly Australian species and now gunning for the highest office in the land. You'd make strong ties with three very powerful allies."

Dominic was taken aback by the accusation and judging by Cameron's expression, everything said by the Director was true.

"H - How did you know that?" stammered Cameron. "I haven't told anyone that!"

"Zhang, I'm the fucking Director. I make it my business to know everything about my employees."

"I'm not your employee!"

"No. But your son is and that means I know everything about you. To me, you're an asset_. A disposable one at that. But out of respect for your son, I won't utterly destroy you. We wouldn't want someone to leak to the media how you messed with compliance regulations to give yourself a trading advantage, no do we?"_

"I never did that!"

"It doesn't matter whether or not you did. What was it you said a few moments ago? 'Just because there's no money trail doesn't mean that people won't look in that direction.' So think carefully, Cammie. You have to papers to sign right in front of you. I suggest you take the pen you have in the inner breast pocket of your suit, a nice little custom-built blue pen with your name on it, and sign those papers."

Cameron shook from head to toe. "I always keep changing the colour of my pen... I only decided to grab the blue one before this meeting... How did..."

"I'm the Director, Cammie. That's all you need to know."

Click.

The colour had drained from Cameron Zhang's face and he locked gazes with his now fully formed kangaroo son. With a voice that sounded like it was being filtered through a cheese grater, he said, "Where are those papers?"

In his fear, Cameron signed both the adoption and the scholarship forms then brusquely demanded the two men leave. Dominic, thick tail thumping the ground excitedly, bounced all the way into the elevator and regarded the two forms in his paws. Garret wore a smug look on his face and even winked tauntingly at Cameron as the gilded doors shut.

"Was that really...?" Dominic began.

"Nah, that was SABLE," snickered Garret. "The Director will only get involved if, I dunno, the world ended and maybe only if the entire universe was under threat and whatever was killing people here threatened to spread to other worlds. _Conglomerate_employees would know that the Director isn't so long-winded and doesn't use nicknames even to taunt his foes." The big wolf shrugged and clapped Dominic's broad shoulders. "So, Cameron officially signed both the adoption and the scholarship papers. Looks like you're well on your way, huh?"

He regarded the two forms in front of him, still stunned at what had happened. His eyes particularly fell on the left form, the scholarship one. The idea of rising up high, getting famous and then having this huge target painted on his back didn't seem so appealing anymore. Just as with Cameron, if he got up there, if he competed at a professional level and even if he became champion, he would have to constantly improve to keep his crown. While there was nothing wrong with that, he just did not want to be like his father... or get 'stuck' again like before.

With that in mind, he grabbed the scholarship in both hands and ripped it right down the middle.

"Whoa! Hey!" Garret exclaimed. "What're you doing?"

Dominic gave his mentor a smile. "Deciding which path to take. I think I finally know what I want to be when I grow up."

Those words sang back to the first day they met and that just made Garret smile back.

Alabaster Analysis

Hi Mr. Director!

So, Agent MCA-WT69, otherwise known as Garret Holt, did really great with his most recent mission. I like to think that he's opening up a little about what happened previously and the healing process is working! You were right. He'll get better through doing what he loves. I do wonder how long it'll take for him to finally trust again.

Oh well. My analysis of the assets are as below.

Zhang Strain - Rodney: Macropus rufus humanoid. Tends to develop a bodybuilder physique_._ Strong playboy style personality and a little bit of a show-off which fits with his NEXT which generates an 'attention magnet'. Within a certain radius, all eyes and attention will be geared towards the asset. This is optimal in distracting people and potentially drawing attention to said asset. Suggested naming: Attention Whore.

Zhang Strain - Tim: Sylvilagus floridanus_humanoid. Slim, athletic build with a penchant for alcohol, late night parties and homosexuality. Works well in groups of similar strains and has a strong sense of brotherhood. Their NEXT comes in the form of highly infectious hair follicles that act as a sort of biomechanical syringe. Physical contact with any hair strands will detach themselves painlessly from the host and similarly worm their way into the target painlessly spreading the strain. Suggested naming: _Hair Extensions

Zhang Strain - Colin: Macropus rufus humanoid. A highly muscular, bulky member of the strain that is the biggest of the other strains. While physically appearing like any other kangaroo, their NEXT offsets them from the rest. They have the ability to convert kinetic energy directly into semen and a feeling of orgasmic bliss which makes them a little bit of a sadomasochist. Needless to say, they do not suffer any physical damage beyond a certain threshold and just produce more semen. Suggested naming: Whipping Boy

Zhang Strain - Dominic: Macropus rufus humanoid. A balanced and highly intelligent strain barring the presence of a second pair of arms. This makes the strain rather difficult to integrate with the rest of the standard society but the increased strength and high intelligence of the strain gives them great adaptability. Perhaps not the best when it comes to infiltration but suggest allocation as either an Operative of a Specialist. Suggested naming: 4rms

Agent Holt has shown a marked improvement in his socialisation skills and is clearly becoming more attached to his subjects which, I believe, was the goal of his rehabilitation through these missions. I do note that he is still very much distancing himself from them and hasn't used the 'L word' yet despite the common symptoms of such affection. Knowledge that he will be inclined to leave his new assets likely still weigh upon him. Suggest making a more permanent assignment.

Alabaster out.

Director's Correspondence

Alabaster,

What have I said about naming the NEXTs? Seriously, they're all terrible. Except for 4rms. That's good. Keep that.

The Zhang Strain is an excellent example of adaptability and diversity. Gear the Rodney Strain towards Executive training. The Tim strain towards Operatives. The Colin strain would be excellent as Agents. I see great potential for the Dominic strain as an Executor.

I am somewhat amused at his use of my voice and authority via SABLE to trick Cameron Zhang. We need to keep Cameron under close supervision. I do not fully trust him and Garret's report on the man gives me the impression that the man will not take defeat sitting down and will likely dig into our affairs.

As for Garret himself, request for permanent assignment denied. Garret isn't ready for that sort of bond yet. Not after the botched mission. He managed to break down walls with his assignment to the Bells and has relearned the importance of interpersonal relationships from the Zhangs. However, there is still much to learn if he's ever to trust and indeed love again.

Keep him assigned to the Zhangs for... I think another six years. That should be sufficient for Dominic to pursue his dreams and offer a window to leave.

Glossary

Agent - One of the six major types of assets deployed by the Nexus Conglomerate into realities. Agents are skilled in infiltration and asset procurement. While they have combat training, they are mostly geared towards espionage, reconnaissance and reality alterations. An Agent generally aren't able to create NEXTs on their own and mostly rely on 'copying' and 'enhancing' NEXTs that they have knowledge of. Agents also come in sub-classes such as the MCAs or Male Change Agents that cater exclusively to changing males only.

Operative - One of the six major types of assets deployed by the Nexus Conglomerate_into realities. Operatives are more frontline troops than their counterparts. They are often equipped with offensive NEXTs and are especially trained to fortify, defend and conquer - FDC which is their motto. Operatives are best suited for adaptability and are trained to rapidly evolve in the heat of battle; able to generate new NEXTs on the fly. Operatives are often only deployed in cases where assets have gone rogue or in the case the muscle of the _Conglomerate needs to be shown.

Specialist - One of the six major types of assets deployed by the Nexus Conglomerate into realities. Specialists are often seen in the front-office in realities where the Conglomerate has a public appearance. Specialists often focus on a single NEXT and develop and enhance said NEXTs. They are the researchers and salesmen who conduct experiments around a certain NEXT. Often, Specialists do not adopt the NEXT they are working on and mostly have static forms. However, they have a variety of NEXTs that keep their bodies and minds stable preventing mutation and contamination.

Executive - One of the six major types of assets deployed by the Nexus Conglomerate into realities. Executives generally are seen in positions of power and are best trained for public appearances and leading people. They do not necessarily have to lead other ITAs but can lead entire nations, planets or dimensions as they see fit. They are mostly equipped with NEXTs that capitalise on their charm and allow them to sway others to their cause. Most Executives have powerful innate psychic powers but generally lack any outward mutations. Of the six other ITAs, they are the ones with the most powerful reality-bending abilities.

Technician - One of the six major types of assets deployed by the Nexus Conglomerate into realities. Technicians are more specialised in the development of objects or assets that are deemed to be useful for the Conglomerate. They can be deployed to establish forward bases, footholds or erect structures in the heat of combat to assist other assets. Generally Conglomerate structures found in realities are built by Technicians. This should not be confused for a lack of combat expertise as Technicians are more than capable of holding their own. It should be noted that most Technicians are generally equipped with mechanical or cybernetic NEXTs.

Auditor - One of the six major types of assets deployed by the Nexus Conglomerate into realities. Auditors are commonly considered the 'repairmen' of the ITAs as their NEXTs and skills are especially geared towards repairing any critical reality breaches or recovering Conglomerate assets. Unlike other ITAs, Auditors always have a full set of standard NEXTs that they have while only have one or at most two unique NEXTs that they can swap out at will.

Executor - A rarely seen asset that are only used in the direst of situations and are often considered the 'secret weapons' of Dimensional Directors. Executors are complete shapeshifters with mutable physical forms and a biomechanical ECHO interface inbuilt into their systems. Executors have the unique ability to liquefy themselves and absorb all forms of matter around themselves to create NEXTs or abilities on the fly free of restriction. They are considered the 'hitmen' of the Conglomerate as they can eliminate assets and force them to respawn for detainment. While farm from immortal, Executors are nonetheless extremely rare and dangerous. Though considering the far reach of the Conglomerate, 'rare' is a comparative term.

*Dad's Mug - * The colloquial name for a Conglomerate_deep space facility known as RCDS98-D65. Dad's Mug is shaped like an immense, hollowed out cylinder with the outer walls of the Mug reserved for residential occupation while the centre is filled with water and is effectively an artificial ocean. It was built as a resort of sorts for _Conglomerate employees and their families as well as a staging ground for assets.

Epilogue

"Wilson! Keep your footing! Stop hopping around like a goddamn rabbit!"

Coach Dominic Zhang huffed loudly, big, meaty arms crossed against his chest as he watched his two students throwing kicks and punches in the ring. Both of these guys had come to Avenue Heights expecting to have minimum education since the world to have tossed them to a glorified prison for underage kids. But in the past few years since Dom had first returned as a student teacher and then a fully-fledged member of faculty, he had brought some great changes to what had once been the worst school in the entire city.

Now, the gym was fully furnished. Pennants hung on the walls from various championship games that his teams had attended. There was a trophy cabinet in the hallway filled with glistening monuments to their various successes. The floors were freshly refurbished with new floorboards and the smell of mildew no longer hung in the air. The gym had even been expanded to have a full weight room.

Of course, he couldn't take all the credit.

A shrill whistle came up from his left and he glanced over to where Head Coach Garret Holt was looking after the wrestling team. His mentor and head of the PE department of Avenue Heights had initiated the changes and once again lain the groundwork for an ambitious Dominic to take over once he moved back in. Through funds from the Conglomerate, they had made the school into a place where kids could build their future instead of being stuck in the present.

His eyes snapped back to his students. "Jesus, Wilson. What did I just say?" He shook his head and picked up the whistle that was nestled right between his broad pectorals. With a sharp blow, the two boys stopped, slumping into their opposite corners of the ring, drenched in sweat and slightly bruised.

"Pack it up, boys," he said. "Shower and head home. Enjoy your weekend because come Monday, your ass is mine."

The two young men groaned even though they were trying hard to hide their smiles. Dom knew all too well that by the time these kids came to_Avenue Heights_, they had a lot of issues. Just like how Coach Holt had taught him, sometimes boys just needed a punching bag to let out all that aggression. There were few rules when people went into the ring and while he did teach some basic MMA fighting, he made no promises of sending anyone to fighting professionally. The world of competitive combat was just too dangerous.

The big, brown roo watched the athletes march into the locker rooms. Garret came to flank him holding a tablet, one that matched Dom's.

"Wilson tends to get sloppy when he's tired," observed the wolf. "Long is pretty good though but generally only when he's winning. If he's on the losing end, he loses confidence and makes rookie mistakes."

He gave his mentor a side-long smirk. "Lawrence needs to work on his holds. Puts too much weight on his legs. Your boy Tony is a machine though."

Garret shrugged happily. "He's been with me the longest. He's honestly gunning for a wrestling scholarship in college. Not too sure where he wants to go with that past then but I'm working it out with him."

"Just don't go throwing him into stardom too soon."

"Ever the pragmatist." Garret slapped his back happily. "Glad that stuck with you, bud." With all their students in the locker room, Garret leaned forward and pressed his muzzle against Dom's. There was something arousing about the two, huge mammals sneaking a kiss, a grope or even stealthily fucking between periods. Of course their nights spent together 'work out' was even more entertaining. If anything, their schoolyard romps were more like the appetisers with their evenings being the main course. Weekends when everyone could get involved was the dessert.

Garret broke the kiss and licked the tip of Dominic's nose. "I'll go watch the kids to make sure their left over testosterone doesn't break any lockers."

"Sure. I'll go check up on Colin."

Garret swaggered by, swishing his tail over his delicious rump. It was a purposefully teasing move one that Dominic rewarded with a quick flick of his own tail. With his appendage being more versatile, thicker and more muscular, it was like a whip against Garret's bubble butt. The wolf barely reacted, just throwing a coy look over his shoulder before heading to the locker room to make sure none of their boys hurt one another. They couldn't change the world overnight or even over the course of a couple of years but Avenue Heights had quickly become a starting point, a sort of staging ground, for the Nexus Conglomerate for that change.

Smiling happily to himself, Dom headed towards the western side of the gym particularly to the large, automatic double doors that led into what he liked to consider as the 'public face' of the gym. Money couldn't just come out of nowhere, after all, and the Nexus Conglomerate wanted to keep its head down especially since it had made an enemy of Cameron Zhang. Over the years, there had been dozens of probes from one of the richest men in the world. As Cameron began pursuing a presidency, he grew increasingly wary of the Conglomerate_and Dominic. There were plans in motion on both sides but for the moment, Dom was just happy that Cameron had _no idea what he was going up against.

That meant that the funds to refurbish not only the Avenue Heights gym but the rest of the school had to come from somewhere. As a public school especially in a county that was barely on the map, it was hard to get funding for such a facility. That was, until Colin Meade had the brilliant idea of renting out the gym to the public after school hours.

As Dom passed through the sliding doors, he entered the broad weight and workout area of the gym which was decked out with colourful motivational posters and a reception desk that was manned by none other than the big, black kangaroo that was his mate. Colin was hastily arranging their latest promotion of new sports drinks in a pyramid on the front desk.

"Hey babe," Colin greeted giving him a dazzling smile before returning to work. "Kids out already?"

"Just in the showers. Garret is looking after them. You ready to open soon?"

"Getting there," chuckled the titanic kangaroo, the biggest of them all. "I've got so much to do. New personal trainer is coming in today. We're getting the guy to fix the rear water fountain as well. Going to be a hell of a day."

He glanced towards the public-facing entrance of the gym and could already see a few people gathering. With so many offices around them, it was incredibly convenient for people getting off work to jump into the gym as the kids left. The investment of opening the gym from five-thirty to midnight had paid off very well. Colin manned the gym during that time while Dom worked for the school during waking hours. Thanks to his enhanced physique, neither man really needed that much rest so they usually met up a little past midnight, have an hour or so of fun somewhere else and then fuck madly back at their home before slumbering the night away in each other's arms.

Of course their investment was supplemented by the Nexus Conglomerate. The gym was a front for NexSports, a foothold in this reality, and one that was changing the world slowly but surely. He had seen how people had come in through those doors and left a little fitter, a little stronger and definitely addicted to the service. Word of mouth spread and soon, Colin was running a very successful business.

"I'll catch you later tonight, love," Colin said, blowing him a kiss. "Opening soon."

"Yeah. I'm going out drop Garret off with our esteemed councilman. He wanted to pick up few things for Tim's campaign before we met up again tonight."

"Have fun!"

Dominic snickered and gave his lover a peck on the cheek before heading back towards the school itself. Garret finished up with the rest of the students and the two of them headed out to the parking lot and Dominic's SUV. It may have been a little impractical to have an SUV in the middle of the city but few vehicles could actually support his size.

As he drove out of the parking lot, Dominic couldn't help but look back at the school in the rear-view mirror and smile.

*******

Councilman Mortimer Heathrow was working late that evening. It was a Friday night and yes, most people were out partying or getting a head start for their weekend. But Tim was gunning for a mayoral position in Blue Plateau. If he succeeded in his campaign, he would be youngest man ever to hold that position. Not only that, but he would be youngest openly gay mayor of Blue Plateau. Needless to say, there were many opponents to his rise to power. First, he had graduated with top marks, passed the bar exam and served as a lawyer for a year and was subsequently elected to be a council member thanks to all his years of being active in the community as part of PUK.

And it had all been thanks to Garret Holt.

When he looked back at the aimless punk that he had been, he could not help but laugh. He thought he had been rebelling against something, standing up to The Man or changing the world by flitting between crime and lawfulness. But no one noticed him. No one took his message to heart. No one understood his 'protests'. But when he had become the sexy fratboy bunny that was part of a brotherhood, when he made connections, when he found a goal in his life and found his ambition, that was when things changed.

Tim sat in his big office chair, facing away from the door and peering out into the window that oversaw the entire city. Hopefully, within the year he'd become mayor and then he could really change Blue Plateau from the wretched, crime-filled post-gold-rush town that it was into a shining metropolis where no kid would ever feel like he had back then - a solitary island without a goal and surrounded by enemies. With the Conglomerate backing him as well, he was sure he could make that change.

His door opened and he caught the familiar scent of a musky wolf that had just come from a gym. His cock was already stirring in his cheap slacks. Though he was raking in six figures, he didn't want to show off any form of luxury. His office was the smallest of all the other councilmen. His desk was something he had bought in IKEA and all the books that lined his walls were hand-me-downs, old, weathered and dusty. Even his suit was the same suit he wore since he had first come to college. His critics called him poor. Supporters touted that he was down-to-earth.

"So you're leaving on Monday, aren't you?" he said, already proceeding to unbutton his jacket.

"I told you guys that I was only going to stick around for another six years," Garret said, padding forward further into the office. "Don't know how they knew but the higher ups knew that by this time, you guys won't need my help anymore. I think they were a little off. You guys were ready months ago."

Tim let out a soft laugh. Sad but true, the fact was that as the years went by the needed less and less of Garret's support. Colin and Dom were pretty much autonomous as they oversaw their gym business and improved Avenue Heights. Rod had started his own IT consulting company with some initial start-up from Garret but he was not managing it without help. And Tim... well...

"I've managed to navigate the murky waters of politics without using my NEXT," said Tim, lifting a finger. A strand of fur from sprang up from the tip of his paw and wiggled in the air like a tiny, extremely thin worm. He blew at it and it drifted into the air. "Thanks to your training, I can do more with it than just turning other people into rabbits like me."

He could feel the strand of hair sail through the hair before landing directly against Garret's cheek. There, the strand navigated the wolf's thick fur before sliding painlessly into the wolf's flesh, sinking past the layers of skin and entering the bloodstream. The effect was instantaneous and Garret let out a soft grunt as his cock began to stir within his sheathe.

"I'm glad I kept you from turning the entire ruling party of this county into rabbits," snickered Garret. "That would've been hard to explain and contain."

Something wet and slimy curled around Tim's left arm and he smiled at the sight of Garret's prehensile cock curling around his arm. He moaned softly at the warm, wet touch of the tentacle. It slithered up his arm and gently caressed his neck.

"We all have to grow up some time," he mumbled, eyes slowly closing shut as he turned his head towards the invading member. His moan grew louder as the slippery member slid into his muzzle, gently thrashing about and pouring that delicious seed down his throat like it had done so many times before.

As the years went by and Tim grew more and more accustomed to his NEXT, Garret became less of a trainer and mentor to more of an advisory role with the weekly romps at Dominic's place as a source of stress relief. The strains of public office were very much real. Tim knew it would not be easy but he was glad to have the support of the likes of Garret. Fear of losing the big wolf as the Conglomerate Agent moved on to another mission often plagued his mind.

A large, gentle paw rested behind his head and he opened his eyes. The hulking wolf stood in front of him, handsome features outlined in the moonlight. The blonde wolf pulled his dick away from Tim's muzzle and leaned down. Their lips met tenderly and Tim instinctively wrapped his arms around the wolf's thick neck. Garret, being much taller than Tim, reached down and wrapped his arms around the athletic bunny, playfully lifting him off his seat. That gave Tim the room of shrug off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor while he could wrap his legs around Garret tenderly. He dove into Garret's muzzle, desperate to commit the taste of the wolf to memory.

Garret pulled away for a moment, their heavy breathing matching. "You know if you ever need me, you just need to call."

"I know," Tim sighed. "Continuum predictive algorithms would have in front of me and fucking my brains out even before I ask."

He then dove back in, tongue hungrily lapping at the wolf's muzzle and following that sexy chinstrap beard all the way down to the corded, veiny neck covered in sweat. He could feel the heartbeat of the Agent against his tongue and pounding through that huge chest. Smiling a devious grin, Tim then willed thousands of tiny strands of his own fur to spring up and worm their way into Garret's flesh. Every strand that sank into the wolf's grey fur only made the wolf hornier, more animalistic. The deep, rumbling grown from Garret's throat shook Tim to his core.

The rabbit ran his tongue up Garret's neck, leaving his lips hovering over the wolf's triangular ears. "Fuck me," he begged. "Fuck me like you've never fucked me before. Wear me like a fucking condom."

His only response was a deep, thunderous bark and then being carried over to his desk. Garret's long, thick dick swept all the books, stationary and even the computer right off the wooden frame before resting Tim on his back against the flat surface. The wolf had been driven wild thanks to Tim's NEXT but the seasoned agent was able to maintain his self-control even as he dove down and wrapped his fangs against Tim's shoulder. The councilman gasped as he was rocked with the sudden mixture of pleasure and pain as the powerful wolf's fangs brushed just over his skin without breaking it. They both mentally thanked each other for what was to come next, as the councilman's choice in cheap clothing made the next moment all the more satisfying.

*RIIIIIIIP!*

Tim's lean, athletic chest trembled at the touch of the cold night as Garret tore the shirt right off him. Though he still wore a singlet, the heat given off by Garret caused his entire body to quiver in anticipation. The big wolf spat the shredded fabric to the side, long, flat tongue drooling hungrily. Their muzzles met once more with no reservations between them. Their groins ground against one another and Tim adored the feel of that long, flexible dick sliding between them running up his hardened abdominals that he had kept sculpted even through the years. That same cock expertly slid beneath Tim's singlet, curling beneath the straps before showing off its strength as it pulled back and broke the last things keeping the white garment clinging to the bunny's lean form.

Garret's big paws shoved the torn fabric aside, never once pulling their lips away from one another. Tim seized the wolf's tight fitting shirt and tugged at it. There was no way he could pull it over Garret's head give just how big the lupine was. He felt the smile on Garret's lips without even seeing it. Still, he was obliged to open his eyes as Garret straightened. The coach was only wearing his shirt and even then, only barely. Every muscle on that titanic torso seemed so eager to burst out from beneath the tight, white wrapping. The sleeves had retreated so far that up his arm that they were just sitting on the edges of his deltoids. His nipples were unmistakable as well. Garret dug his fingers between the cleft of his huge pectorals and Tim's eyes bulged as the wolf flexed his chest muscles and then dragged his claws across the shirt, tearing it right down the middle.

The rabbit could've came then and there and he let his feelings be known as he moaned loudly and thrust at the wolf's throbbing dick with his own hips. All the blood seemed to go straight to his crotch where his dick was begging to be let out. His arms and legs felt weak and though he had been the one to stimulate the wolf into this sexual frenzy, he was under the power of the mighty coach - he had _always_been under Garret's power and he loved every moment of it.

Unable to pull off his own pants, Tim could only whine he need. Garret happily obliged him. Those big claws gripped the waist of his slacks. With all the strength behind them, Garret tore the black costume right off. Right beneath was revealed a bright pink thong that was already so strained by Tim's enormous sixteen-inch dick that it was a wonder how it actually managed to stay intact.

Garret growled.

"I know," Tim mumbled with a cheeky grin. "I was going to give a speech and this was going to be my finisher."

The big wolf leaned down, nuzzled the huge cock before him and letting out a soft rumbling noise.

"You want a sample? Now?"

Garret's long, flexible tongue curled around Tim's cock, lapping at the huge balls and making the rabbit moan.

"Alright! I... Uh..." He cleared his throat which was rewarded but Garret seizing the strap of his thong and guiding it off his cock so that the member was full and free. A sigh of relief washed through him but he quickly sucked in a lungful of air as Garret's muzzle wrapped around his cock. "I... Oh fuck... L - Ladies and gentlemen."

That ever-present, long, muscular cock curled around him, winding around his legs and binding them together. It curled upwards, teasingly circling his cottontail before rising over his shoulders and crossing against his chest like a harness. Tim could feel his nipples quivering against the contact of that throbbing member. Showing surprising strength, Garret straightened, standing at the edge of the table and pulling Tim upwards. The brown-furred cottontail never knew just how strong that dick was until his entire body was suspended in the air with his cock hovering over Garret's muzzle and the tip of the long cock sliding between his ass cheeks.

Somehow, he managed to keep the speech he had memorized and kept on track, albeit with a bit of stuttering. "Our great county of Blue Plateau has often been the ass-end of California's jokes. People think that we're past our glory days since the gold rushes. We have pride in our city but we cannot continue to live in what wa-aaas!"

Garret's dick slipped in between his ass cheeks, the tip piercing his pucker. His entire body felt limp with his cheeks afire with a blush. Somehow, he still managed to keep to his speech.

"We need to push for the future! We need to put Blue Plateau on the map again and not just as a passing tourist attraction. We need to bring industry back into our county! Into our city!"

Tim gasped as the wolf's warm muzzle wrapped around his cock adding a third distraction to his quivering body. His aching cock desperately wanted to cum and his balls were slamming up against the base of his dick, telling him that he was ready to explode at a moment's notice. But he doggedly kept to his guns and continued the speech.

"I plan to make the city a new technology hub for not only our nation but the entire world! We have a _lot_of talent and ambition amongst us but just do not have the means to stoke the fires of these gifts. Our public schools are constantly neglected and are being treated as glorified day care centres where the once bright-eyes students whose would some day shoulder our futures are kept in outdated environments from nine to three every day while they learn about outdated principles through thrown together curriculums!"

Tim grit his teeth, arching his back and hips thrusting into Garret's muzzle. That long tentacle-like cock slipped further into him, sliding in and out while wiggling around madly and filling him like no other cock could. His vision was starting to blur as his entire body became a temple of ecstasy.

"We must rebuild our industry," he continued, gritting his teeth tightly. "We must rebuild our future. In this age of technology, the internet is our lifeline so I see no reason why it should be paid for. I will build a system that will offer free internet access for all!"

Garret's tongue slipped around beneath his cock, running down the length and brushing against his bouncing balls.

"Every student in the world is expected to at least have a high school education not as a prerequisite for a job but just to be accepted by society. Without that, the poor soul is instantly labelled as a failure with no prospect for a future. So I will implement a means of free education up to the high school level for all!"

Tim gagged as Garret's big paws, free of holding him up, roved across his body. One paw squeezed his butt, opening it up for further invasion by the slimy dick. The other slipped beneath the fleshy harness he wore and squeezed a nipple. The myriad of pleasures had his cock spewing a burst of cum but he quickly clenched his ass and grit his teeth, preventing any further loss of seed.

"Expectations for employment are rising and it has quickly become a standard to have a degree," he growled. "But that is bullshit! You don't need a college degree to get into any job! I will introduce subsidised on-the-job training for companies that are willing to nurture the next generation of their employees! Ah!"

Tim was jackhammering into Garret's muzzle, his entire body limp save for his hips and cock. It was a good thing he was done.

"And lastly, in line with my theme of leaving the past behind, many of you have reservations about my sexual orientation. Homophobia is a thing of the past. Many young, bright minds are cast aside, thrown into the streets and their bright stars snuffed out because of they prefer to sleep with someone with the same genitals as them. But to that, all I can say is that the future... our future... is... is cumming!"

Tim gasped and in his mind, he envisioned himself standing in front of a crowd at a campaign rally where he would proceed to tear off his cheap clothing - artfully designed for easy removal, of course - and reveal himself to be wearing a bright, pink thong. Though during the campaign, he was not going to spray his seed right into the muzzle of the hulking wolf that had him wildly restrained by a sexy, alien tentacle-cock. His entire body rode the dream of shocked expressions, flashing cameras and dropped jaws as his cum poured out of his dick and straight into Garret's muzzle.

Just as the cold of the night began to hit him again and feeling started to return to his body, he felt the hot seed of the wolf pour into that winding dick. He could _feel_the molten cum rushing up from Garret's crotch, shooting around the length that was wrapped around his legs, working its way around his chest and wrapping him in a blanket of warmth before sliding into his ass and filling him. A groaned left his lips as he was quickly filled to the brim and cum began dripping between his legs.

Garret slowly lowered him back onto the desk. He shivered at the touch of the cold wood against his back and even more so when the wolf's cock slipped out from beneath his ass cheeks and retreated back into that furry sheath. A soft hiss left his lips as the lupine muzzle sucked the last drops of cum from his lips.

"Oh fuck..." Tim murmured. "That... that was kind of weird but kind of hot as well..."

Garret snickered and wiped his muzzle with the back of his paw. "Now you don't have to worry about your nerves on campaign day."

The rabbit blinked in surprise at his friend realising he had never told anyone that he was having second thoughts of making such an explosive - and likely controversial - speech. Then he could only laugh.

"Damn you... Even now, still teaching me lessons."

"We never stop growing, Tim," Garret said with a wink. He gently smacked Tim's thighs and reached for his ever-present duffel bag. He retrieved a semi-offensive shirt and a pair of pants before handing it to the councilman. "Now come on. I'm going to drop you over at Rod's place before I go and check up on Dom and Colin."

Tim groaned. "Wow... so soon? Jesus, man. I just came..."

Garret gave him a sly smirk. "Well good thing you can fuck like a rabbit, right?"

******

Though the gym closed at midnight, there was still about an hour or so afterwards when Colin had to pack up and do as much administrative stuff he could before heading home. Naturally, some of the other staff and personal trainers did some of the smaller things like putting the weights back in their racks or cleaning up the gym floor which he was grateful for. The big, black-furred kangaroo let everyone go off half an hour early before he checked the gym floor one last time.

Just as he was returning to the desk, he was surprised to see the handsome features of his mate standing outside of the doors, out in the cold and looking up into the city. Curious, he padded over and pushed open the doors.

"Hey babe, I wasn't going to be long," he said.

Dom gave him a coy smile. "I know but I wanted to see you."

"You couldn't wait another half hour for me to get home? You did remember tonight was Garret's farewell, right?" He grinned broadly, thick tail thumping the ground behind him. "We were going to fuck all night, all morning tomorrow and see if we could keep Garret from walking out that door by pounding his ass so much that he won't be able to feel his legs."

The love of his life snickered. "Yeah. But that's with the other guys. I just wanted some time with you and me."

Colin's eyes shone. "Oh. Well why don't you come in?"

Just as Dom pushed off the wall, however, a big black truck came rolling up the driveway. Colin's ears drooped a little as Garret stepped out and waved at them. The big wolf jogged up the stairs towards them.

"You almost done in there, Colin?" asked the Coach. "Need some help."

"Actually," Dominic chimed in, "we were just talking about what's gonna happen this weekend."

Garret rolled his eyes. "Right. You mean you're not-so-subtle plan of fucking me all day and night? We have so much sex that I submit to your pleas not to leave?" He lifted a finger smugly. "I'll have you know, I already fucked Tim."

"You did?"

"While he was giving me a practice run of his campaign speech, might I add. It's really good."

"The sex or the speech?"

Garret didn't answer that and just tucked his large paws into his pockets. "Come on, boys. You know I have to go. It's my job and I love it. Besides, if you need me, you just need to call and I'll be right by your side."

Colin dropped his gaze a little. "You once told me that you all I had to do was tell you want I wanted and you'd give it to me. Now I really want you to stay but..."

"It'd be selfish of us," Dominic finished. He exchanged glances with Colin for a second, the two roos sharing a knowing smile. "But let us be selfish for just a little bit. Come on inside with us, Coach."

Garret smiled brightly and allowed himself to be led back into the gym. Colin made sure to lock to front door so that no one would interrupt them. They strode towards the men's locker rooms, discarding their clothing wantonly with each step. The moment Garret's shirt went off, both Colin and Dominic dove for the pink nubs against the grey fur and began sucking on his nipples. A soft moan left the wolf's muzzle as he flexed his pectorals, bouncing them and squeezing the nutritious juices from them. The minty liquid poured into both roos' throats, instantly revitalising them and having them both bouncing on their big, crushing feet all the way to the lockers.

Their cocks were out and erect by the time they reached the communal showers. Colin, the biggest of them all happily pressed himself up against the nearest wall and lifted his tail. Garret pressed his body up against the muscular black roo's back, nuzzling the thick, corded neck while his prehensile dick slipped and slithered all over Colin's muscled chest. The long, sensitive snake rolled over Colin's abdominals, drove between the thick pectorals which Colin happily compressed before diving right into the roo's muzzle. Loud, muffled moans escaped from the Colin as his own sizeable dick throbbed achingly between his thick legs.

Then the first slap hit his rounded ass. Colin went rigid as the familiar paw of his mate hit his flesh. The impact rippled through his body. Kinetic energy was absorbed by his body, muscles contracting and transforming that force into tangible fluids; into his cum. His unique NEXT filled his balls with the transformed energies, causing the black, furry spheres to swell slightly. He turned his head a little just as Dom's upper arms reached paws him and twisted at the knobs of the shower. First there was a blast of cold water that hit both wolf and kangaroo but it quickly turned warm, soaking their fur.

Dominic's lower paws reached around Garrets and seized Colin's waist. His upper arms reached down and guided his own throbbing member into Garret's waiting pucker. The wolf grunted as the incredible dick slipped inside of him. The Coach lapped at Colin's neck, hungry for more while his tentacle dick pulled out of Colin's muzzle and made a beeline for the roo's ass.

Smack!

There was another slap and Colin could feel his balls inflating. When Dominic had first started mounting him, just one slap was enough to make him cum. The pressure in his sac was so overwhelming that he all his cum had exploded out like a geyser. It made the Colin's heavy thrusts all the more pleasurable. He had taken it as training and now he could endure much longer before he erupted into blissful orgasm. It made those orgasms more explosive, of course, but that was why both he and Colin had chosen to have their personal fuck with Garret in the shower. Easier to clean up the mess.

Colin gasped when the long, mobile cock of Garret Holt slipped into his ass. It felt like it belonged there and the warmth it radiated coupled with the warmth of the water pelting him only made it feel all the more special. His muzzle now free, he turned his head and pressed his lips against Garret's. Their tongues danced in one final, personal waltz before the wolf would have to leave. Though the moment was touched with bitterness, the wolf's paws reached around his waist and gripped his dick adding a sense of fiery passion into their coupling.

Then Dominic began thrusting.

With the first thrust, he pushed Garret forward, the impact striking Colin and thus activating the black roo's NEXT. Colin was forced to tear his lips away, gritting his teeth together and his balls visibly swelled, forcing his huge legs apart. His cock was aching with need and Garret's expert paws running up and down the length of his tool didn't help either. He barely managed to keep himself from sliding onto the wet ground with his paws placed firmly against the wall. But Dominic was a merciless lover and that was what Colin loved about him.

Garret was sandwiched between them and with every thrust from Dominic, the big wolf was thrown against Colin. All three men filled the showers with their lusty moans. The sounds of the rushing water overlayed their love making only occasionally broken by the noise of a wet impact as Dominic's paw smacked a tight, rounded muscle. Garret likewise reached around Colin's chest, seizing the black roo's pectorals and giving them a tight squeeze. Colin responded by tensing his chest, hard sinew pressing up against his wet fur with the striations clearly visible. Garret affectionally run his paws up and down the muscles like he was playing the xylophone before giving the pectorals a big, wet slap. Colin let out a loud, lusty moan as the impact caused his balls to swell even more to the point where his legs were starting to burn from being forced to split apart so much.

Dominic always could read him well - it made their sparring matches that more interesting. His mate pulled away from Garret, slipping his dick out of the big wolf and moving around the two before pressing his lips against Colin's. The black roo's eyelids fluttered and his legs went weak. Colin fell to his knees, dragging Garret down to the slippery tiles with him. They lay on their sides which was perfect as Dom lifted one of Colin's legs, holding it up with his lower arms and leaving his already penetrated ass wide open for the roo. Colin braced himself but nothing could prepare himself from being stuffed by both Dom and Garret's dicks.

There was a sense of aptness that this magical moment was one that Colin shared with the two men that had made the greatest impact in his life. He briefly wondered how his life would've turned out if he had known that Colin had loved him from the very start. Then he realised that given the man he had been before Garret had changed him, he would likely have teased and tormented Colin based on that knowledge and likely wound up either alone or dead from an overdose. To that, he was eternally grateful to both these men.

He showed it to them with a fierce thrust of his dick right into Colin's ass. The feeling of his and Garret's dick inside of his mate was like utter bliss. Then Garret's prehensile member curled around his own cock, wrapping around it like a lusty serpent whilst still inside Colin. That drove the tough randy marsupial wild. He only thrust harder and harder, his dick sliding in and out of his mate while running up and down the curl of Garret's member. With every thrust, he could feet Colin's balls getting bigger and bigger, filling with more and more cum.

But he was not going to forget about Garret.

Putting his multiple arms to good use, he curled thick arm around Colin's head and gripped Garret by the hair. He roughly pulled the wolf towards his own muzzle, pressing their lips together and sending their tongues dancing. Colin, thirsty and unwilling to be left before, meshed his muzzle into the melee, the three men slurping and licking madly. Dominic, still with one arm free, grasped for Garret's form, squeezing at the tight muscles and finding his fingers sliding over the slick fur until he found the wolf's happily wagging tail. He followed the length blindly to its base where he then probed for the hot, slick pucker that he had just been pounding but a minute ago. His finger found its goal and he pushed it into the tight hole making Garret gasp and catch Dominic is a thankful kiss.

Just in time too as the locker room's lights flicked off. It seemed that the sensors hadn't caught the movements of their twisted bodies on the shower floor. That was fine. As darkness plunged around them, they happily pressed their bodies together, the only real movements coming from their colliding hips and meshing muzzles. Their other senses grew sharper with the lack of sight with their sense of touch - and lust - as the leaders.

Colin's balls throbbed, becoming like melons that was threatening to push Dominic away. Dominic knew his lover all too well and knew that the black roo would not last much longer. It was then fortuitous that Garret's entire body tensed and his back arched. Garret let out an ear-splitting howl. Dominic could feel the wolf's cum pumping up the long, serpentine dick before erupting from its tip. The rush of fluids was like a massage along the length of his own cock and he could do nothing to hold back the tide of his own orgasm. He let out a tremendous cry, nothing a loud as Garret's, but still enough to signal to Colin that he was spilling his seed.

Perhaps with some relief, Colin tense and let out a choking gasp. All the seed that had been converted from their rough love-making came blasting out of his swollen dick. The blast was so strong that he was thrust back along the slipper floor a goof three feet. Dominic was holding onto him and Garret well enough that all three men were pushed away by the force of the blast. That was enough for the sensors and the lights flicked on just in time to see all three men shoot their second load and smear the floor of the showers in their hot spunk.

Sadly, this load pushed them again another three feet away and sending them sliding across the tiles away from the showerhead that they had been basking under. This left a trail of cum between them. Dominic realised that they would have to clean this up afterwards but the thought was quickly banished by his third shot. He squeezed his eyes shut and went rigid when he found Garret's muzzle pressed up against his own. His eyes flicked open for a second and he could have sworn he saw a tear run down Garret's cheeks but that could easily have been the water from the showers. Then his fourth load hit and he squeezed his eyes shut.

The thought was gone as all three men unleashed the contents of their balls all over the shower floors. Colin's sac deflated back to its usual size - still large for a roo even given his size - but more manageable.

Dominic sighed in contentment, pulling his lips away from Garret and nuzzling the wolf that had changed his life so much.

"I'm going to miss you," he whispered softly.

Colin moaned softly. "We both will," he added.

******

The party never stopped for Rodney Zhang. Whether it was in the office or out on the streets of Blue Plateau, the successful and sexy company owner constantly found himself surrounded by people who liked to have fun. The clubs, the parties and the exclusive black-tie events were just all the topping on the cake that was his life.

But tonight was different.

It was the end of an era and he sat quietly at the highly-recommended restaurant flicking through all the photos he and Garret Holt had taken over the years. He hated the idea of being sombre on a Friday night but he knew all too well that by Monday morning, the wolf who had changed his life was going to move out of his life and possibly into another world which was bigger and better. The very least he could do was offer the guy a hell of a weekend before he left.

He caught the familiar scent of the musky wolf. A smile touched the kangaroo's lips as Holt moved through the crowd dressed in a nice dark blue suit and tie. In the time that they had known one another, he had rarely seen Garret in anything but a tight-fitting shirt and sports shorts.

"Don't you clean up well," chuckled Rod.

Garret's bright, blonde hair had been swept back into a slick, clean look. It was unusual for him to sport anything apart from his cool spikes. "I had to since you invited me to the fanciest restaurant in Blue Plateau."

That made the partying and shoeless roo chuckle. "Please. You know that the 'fanciest restaurant in Blue Plateau' doesn't hold up to any of the places down in LA or even New York. You just got dressed up to for shits and giggles."

The Coach sat down in the velvety, red booth, parking himself opposite to Rod. Given the incredible sizes of the two males, their legs were intertwined beneath the table. It was a good thing that the very same table had a very long table cloth because it hit the fact that Rod was gently running his toes up Garret's calves.

"Now don't go saying that," barked the wolf. "Our esteemed councilman has plans to upgrade this town. I should know. I just got a sample of his speech."

Rod hated to have his mood dampened but the thought of not having Garret around especially when there were so many things changing in their life was utterly frightening. The threat of his own brother looming over his shoulder only added to his fear.

"I need your opinion on something," he said, picking up the menu. "My brother is a dick."

"I'm pretty sure we agreed on that six years ago when you first 'awakened' to the fact," Garret said, perusing the drinks selection. He waved down a waiter and ordered some fancy, fruity cocktail that Rod couldn't pronounce. He may have been gay but he preferred beer over something that was so flamboyantly flaming.

"Yeah but he's pushing his way towards the presidency and I'm pretty damn sure that he wants to make sure we don't screw it up for him."

"If you want the _Conglomerate_to ruin him, you know you just have to ask." Garret cocked his head to the side. "Huh... It's been a long while since I've had squid ink pasta. I think I'll have that."

Rod tapped the menu. "I'm going for the steak. Got to load up for tonight." He lifted his gaze towards Garret. "That's not what I want your opinion on."

"Then what is it?"

The big roo scratched the side of his cheek thoughtfully. "I was... actually thinking of settling things peacefully with him."

It was probably a good thing that Garret hadn't gotten his drink yet as he would have likely done a spit take at that moment.

"Seriously?" exclaimed the stunned wolf. "After all the times he's tried to probe into your business, all the attempts to ruin you and sabotage your lifestyle? For crying out loud, he tried to buy your apartment building just to evict you."

"Which led Tim to force the owner to sell the contract to me instead, rocket him to becoming a councilman who protected Blue Plateau values and kicked off his career as a politician," said Rod with a shrug. "Honestly, even though he's done a lot of shitty things to us over the past few years, we've actually come out stronger for it. And besides, we've got evidence that he did that shit and the more he tries to screw us over, the more evidence we have and the more paranoid he'll get. He _knows_we know and he'll do anything to put us out of the picture."

"And you'd rather make peace with him than to destroy him?"

The waiter returned with their drinks. The cocktail that Garret got was a strange myriad of blue, yellow and green. It looked quite appealing and there was something sexy about the big, manly wolf sipping the edges of the long cocktail glass, running his tongue teasingly over the strawberry wedged into the lip that almost distracted him

Rod gave his dear friend a smile. "Life is too short to make enemies." He took a sip from his beer which was served in a tall glass. It was a good. Satisfied, he ordered their mains and the waiter retreated back to the kitchen. "Besides, we both know that I'll outlive Cameron at this rate. I'd rather not spend the rest of his life bitterly at one another's throat."

Garret shook his head, clearly impressed and leaned back into his seat. "That's very big of you, Rodney." Then he gave the big kangaroo a suspicious look. "But you do realise he's going to take advantage if you, right?"

"Undoubtedly," he answered with a snicker. "Cameron has and will always be the sort of guy that will think of himself and try to make a profit. That's why I don't want to bring him into the Conglomerate. He'll treat everyone as disposable." Rod lowered his gaze. "But I've still got to try, you know? I mean, we're assets of the Conglomerate. In the years to come, I know I'll regret never trying to make amends. I mean what'll happen if I never get the chance, you know?" He stared into his beer for moment. "Regret is a terrible thing to live with for an eternity."

Garret's smile faded a little. "I have this eerie feeling this is more than just about you and your brother."

Rod had practiced his speech over and over again for the past few months. Knowing Garret would be leaving them soon, he had tried to work out how best to give his good friend a proper send-off. But in the process he had stumbled onto something.

"Look, I haven't been with the Conglomerate as long as you," he said at length. "But I do know what it means to be stuck in a rut without any hope of getting out. You keep going through the motions. Time just flies by. Every day you just keep hoping that something will come along that'll rescue you from that rut. But every day that passes, that hope gets dimmer and dimmer. I had actually given up on anything ever changing until you came along."

"You're just lucky that you were so important in Dom's life," Garret chuckled.

"See, I don't believe that." Rod reached into his pocket and pulled out his Monolith. On it was the preloaded article of one Charles Silva and Eric Pitt happily celebrating their second wedding anniversary with their adopted kid, Jericho, right between them. He slid the phone across the table to Garret. "SABLE was kind enough to give me the history of your mission with us. I'm an Executive, after all. I get access to this stuff."

Garret's smile was all but gone. "I see. And what relevance is this?"

"I know how you work now, Garret. I know your MO. You collect samples from key individuals. You got Dom's MMA training from Silva, you got his skills with the public from Pitt and you got discipline from your friend, Peter Crosse. I also know that while Dominic got all three, you dropped some into each of us as well. I'm willing to wager that Tim got Silva's ambition, I got Pitt's charm and Colin got Crosse's courage."

"Two for two."

Glad to see Garret wasn't angry at him, Rod continued. "But there's something else. You _didn't_have to hook up Silva and Pitt. You could've extracted their essences individually but you went out of your way to get them in touch with one another. You saw that Silva was stuck putting up this tough act and would remain indebted to the mob. Pitt was also stuck in a world where he was forced to hide his sexuality because of his high-profile lifestyle. But you saved them both. Just like you saved the rest of us."

Garret was silent for a long moment before he set his glass down. His eyes drifted to the left slightly as their waiter returned with their meals. The seafood-style squid ink spaghetti did smell very aromatic and Rod's steak was still sizzling. The wolf took a bite out of his meal and gave a nod of approval but Rod left his food to cool.

"You're wrong, you know," said the Coach after another bite which stunned Rod. "I had all my chips betting on Dom taking that scholarship and becoming a professional MMA fighter. I had positioned Silva and Pitt to be the sort of role models that he and Colin would've been able to look up to as he emerges into a world of the professional MMA fighter as an openly gay man. Everything I did was part of a plan, Rod. I would caution against trying to look for some emotional context behind it all because there was not. It was fun. Don't get me wrong. I loved fucking and being fucked by you all and there is a connection there. We're only mortal. You can't _not_form connections like that."

"So we're nothing more than casual lays to you?"

Garret gave him a sympathetic smile. "Of course not. But don't go thinking you can be a replacement for Bryant."

Rod lowered his gaze mournfully. "Well... at least you can say his name now, right?"

The wolf chuckled softly. "I'm healing, Rod. It'll take some time but thanks for caring."

"We'll always be here if you need us."

"And I'm sure you guys will need me again in the future. If you're ever in need, you know who to call."

Rodney returned the lupine smile. "The same goes for you, buddy. If you're ever feeling lonely or just want some kinky kangaroo sex, you know where to find us."