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The following is a Tales From Apartment 232 Production. Characters therein are used at the permission of I Damion St. James the author, and remaining characters are my trademark. Characters can only be used with my expressed written permission

The following story contains adult themes, strong dialogue, and an environment of a homosexual nature. If homosexual erotica or homosexual themes are offensive to you then please stop reading. If you are also a minor, please refrain from reading.

Among the above mentioned, this story also contains the mature themes of Incest and Cub-Play. If these offend you in any way, turn away now..

Alex Fletcher, Heckyl & Jeckyl, and Fabian Grizzard are co-owned by myself and Kooshmeister. Neil, Khris, and Micah are used with permission of Micah Fennic (kitsune 25).

Tags: (M/M, M/b Drama, Story, Long, Anal, Oral, Semi- Rape, Incest, Cub, Watersports, Death)

[Authors Note: The Nascar Racers in this story are used merely for entertainment purposes, along with their numbers and sponsors.]

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TALES FROM APARTMENT 232 - Part 19, "Checkers on my Burning Flag"

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"Greetings. Some of you may know me as Renee Morningstar, but I'd like to introduce myself as not just the same Renee Morningstar you've seen in the movies, but as a proud supporter of Fletch-Co, and Alex Fletcher. Some of you may not know who this is, but I want you all to know, he's a great man, and he's about to bring some outstanding business to the greater Los Angles area. Some of you people from the east cost may know Alex as the owner of the famous vegetarian restaurant called Karrots, as well as the owner of Lucky Lapine Reality. Now has this man provided me some exquisite meals, but he's managed to get me a superb deal on a new place, and has provided me with the opportunity to invest in a company that's sure to go billion dollars within the next 5 years.

"But wait, that's not all folks! For those of you that live in my very own former Churchill Estates, we're going to be tearing down that rickety old building - that was damaged during the recent earthquake - in order to make room for the new headquarters for Fletch-Co enterprises. And with your endorsement you'll be on your way with his excellent relocation program, free of charge. I've given him my personal, and my professional endorsement, so I'm glad to say...'The way to go is with Fletch-co'!"

Ritch his pause on the VCR. I was on the screen with the cheesiest grins of my life on my face, my head covered with a Karrots black baseball hat blazed with the Image of a gold letter K with a leafy carrot perched alongside the upper part of the K. I was dressed in a Lucky Lapine windbreaker, with a Fletch-Co logo in the background. My thumb was in the air, and I wasn't sure my teeth were ever really that sparkly. I looked like a heel.

"Now see Renee, I don't know weather to throw up...piss myself...or laugh my ass off at how ridiculous you look." Ritch said, shaking his head.

I groaned and covered my eyes. "Why...why must you make me watch that?"

"Because it provides me with a sense of sick humor and horror at the same time, like a car accident." He said as he closed his eyes, and turned off the TV. A week had passed since the commercial aired, and I felt like the whole world had turned into a great festering bowl of rancid milk. The police were no sooner closer to solving Jeice's murder than before, even though I had a million dollar bet who was behind it. Ritch was going through everything he could at FBI, which is where I was at that time. I was sitting in the shrine dedicated to my honor, which had a few recent clippings of me, including the news article about me being found naked on the church altar, as well as my comments about Jeice. I was entirely candid when I made my speech, and in my eulogy at his funeral.

The funeral sad to say didn't have much of a turn-out, or I should say not whom I would have hoped to be there. Ishanka came, along with myself, all my roommates (except for Asher), his widowed husband Nicholas, and perhaps a light gaggle of porn fans to pay their respects. Guy had even managed to make an appearance, the androgynous mink that had often played alongside Jeice in his early career. Troy Mustang was there as well, the enormous (dual meaning, -hint hint- ) equine that had left for Falcon Films came to pay his respects. Aside from all these people, not one member of his family came, no one. Nicholas was about the only family that he had, and the poor Ringtail looked on the verge of death himself with how depressed he was. I mean, if I wasn't there, none of my friends would have came, and it would have just been Guy, Troy, Nicholas, Ishanka, and some no-namer fans. It was pitiful to think that his family refused to attend.

Father would tell me that perhaps they were too shocked or upset over the situation. I said I'd rather drink a Koresh Cool-aid before I swallowed that explanation. Any family that willingly doesn't attend their own son's funeral has problems. Any ties to that family, died with Jessie and I'd never speak to any of them again.

As-per Jessie's wishes, he was cremated, and part of his ashes were interned at his family's plot. The rest of the ashes were incased in small gold capsules that had been given to some of his closest friends: myself, Gustauv, Nicholas, Troy and Guy mainly. He'd asked to have part of his ashes scattered at - of all places - the studios because of all the happy memories he had there. If only Jeice knew that after his death, and the deportation of Gustauv, that the owners decided to sell the studios. The studios were now owned by Alex of all people and were now known as Alex and Spike Adult Films. Alex told me his reasoning was timing as well as the fact he wouldn't have to change the monogram logos on the front gates. My tenure in adult films for Adam & Steve Films was over, and I was now working for Alex and Spike. Now, my sex was being recorded, my sex with Alex being sold for millions to see. Alex and that...mink of his...

The worst part was as part of one of the films, Spike had decided to humiliate me during sex by cutting off my prized hair. That's right, I was now as short haired as my dad, and it was uncanny the resemblance the two of us had. Cyric out of sympathy shaved his head too. The three of us together made me feel like we were the poster child for chemotherapy.

My head had never felt lighter, and the constant draft I felt on my scalp was a tingly and unwelcome sensation on my body. I didn't like it. Dad thought it made me look dashing, I scowled at him.

"Well as much as I love getting filmed making a commercial, then raped for 7 hours, andhaving to watch the footage over and over, I can't think of anything better to do with my time...unless you had anything better to show me dad." I said, starting to get a bit creped out by all the pictures of me all over the place.

Dad then brought up some notes he'd taken down on the computer, and then shook his head. He'd dyed his fur recently to take the grey out of his temples and to make him look younger. He really did look more like an older brother than my dad...or a close lover (which was true anyway). He looked back at me and said. "All I have is this: Born about 40 years ago to a wealthy family, turns out he was the result of a coupling between his father and his twin sister. His father was the former owner of Karrots and Fletch-Co, and worked a similar company, similar work ethic if not a Rabbit Supremacist. There are a couple accounts of witnesses close to the family reporting - then illegal - sex between Alex and his father...and the birth of two more sons over the next 20 years. Benjamin Fletcher was never inedited for any incest or pedophilia charges despite witness accounts. Alex carried on in his fathers footsteps sexually with more witness reports of him paying around with his younger brothers. Alex by all accounts had no real trouble in school except he seemed to have distaste for the women's activism at the time and was in charge of the Gentleman's Organization. After that, his record seems clean with the exception of minor traffic violations. The only recent thing was his indictment over the death of a savings & loan clerk, whom also happened to be the owner's daughter. Says here Alex was seen with her hours prior to her death, however there was not enough evidence to convict, apparently Jack Jeremy is a better lawyer than I thought."

I raised an eyebrow. Alex had committed that murder. I knew it. However, now because he'd been tried and acquitted on the charges, that meant he couldn't be tried again on murder charges of that poor woman. "Just whom is Jack Jeremy?"

"My old lawyer. I had him a few years ago when I was battling a case to keep your mom in lock-up. Her family seems to think all that is making her crazy is being there, and my presence. They think sending her back to the east coast will snap her out of whatever has a hold of her."

"And?"

"Well Jackie boy is a snazzy little rabbit I once hooked up with at a 'lad's of law' pose down. He came in second for the light-heavyweight division next to me. He was so impressed at my physique, that he gave me his card. So when the time came to keep your mom locked up I figured why the fuck not and gave him a call. He managed to win the case, however I have to fight again to keep your mom in there sometime soon. Now, I never said Jack was a bad lawyer, but to be able to outtalk Louis Schneider of the prosecution, the nastiest prosecution lawyer I ever had the honor of using, just blows my mind."

I extended a hand as if handing my father something. "It's Alex Fletcher; Mr. America as far as the economic public is concerned. He farts and it all turns to sunshine."

Ritch scoffed. "Well I can tell you that I want nothing of his shit-shine. But Renee, if everything you've told me is true, about his confessions of murder's and rapes and all that, we have to get a confession out of him somehow."

I shook my head. "Not going to happen. When ever I'm with him, I'm getting fucked. I can't really wear a wire or hide it on my body."

Ritch sighed, and lowered his muzzle in thought. Meanwhile, my step father walked up behind me, holding out an espresso. Oh sweet sinful mocha, with maple syrup and chocolate shots topped off with whipped crème...

"How goes the investigation boys?" He said, looking down at me. Thankfully, he didn't resent me too much after realizing the truth behind dad's obsession. The panther was a bit shocked needless to say, but after all that's happened to us lately he'd really mellowed out and turned out nice. It was his day off and he was dressed casually: tank top and tight bike shorts, with weight lifting gloves on his hands and workout shoes on his feet. He was about to hit the building's gym by the looks of it, or some unfortunate collar.

"Eh about as productive as before, except now I get to stare at pictures of myself all day. Thanks for the drink by the way." I said, accepting the drink and sniffing the special blend of all my favorites. Neil had got me hooked on coffee...to try to keep me from smoking. Great intent, odd means.

"Shame. My department doesn't have any more leads other than the fact that whomever did the skinning must have had access to some very precise cutting tools and sharp ones at that to skin your friend while he was alive. The way he was skinned leads me to believe there was hardly a struggle."

Ritch turned around in his seat. "But why, is the question. Emasculation seems moot after skinning someone alive, unless you want the whole thing. And why would someone skin a body in the first place? Traditionally its been done as religious rites and to remove evidence, but that's normally done post-mortem. Pre-mortem though? That's one sick bitch."

The panther nodded grimly. "We can't think of anyone. No one in homicide can, not even the SVU. CSI came up pretty much empty handed, the person whom committed the crime left no fibers, and no prints, and there was no forced sign of entry. I don't see how it's possible to just have a person walk through the house without leaving any sings of his presence, not even hair or fur."

"Well...he could have greased his hair down...and the grease could have still been wet. Jeice had hardwood floors in his bedroom so there wouldn't be fibers for the victim to track in/out. He may have been wearing leather or latex..." I suggested.

"And where did you come up with that idea?" The panther asked.

I shrugged. "Cop shows."

Ritch rolled his eyes and smiled. "Well there Agent Munch, I think we should concentrate on what we know rather than speculation at the moment."

"But you guys said you don't really know anything."

Ritch nodded. "Then lets not concentrate on it."

I sighed, and the panther excused himself to head to the Gym. I leaned back in my chair, which leaned me against my father's chest. Within the hour, doubtlessly, I'd be free of this uptight environment, and out of the suit that I was wearing from my latest Fletch-Co endorsement meeting. Once more, dad thought it was dashing. I was going to burn this suit.

"Dad, I want you to take care of Cyric if you could at the moment. Keep him at your place please, I don't want Alex anywhere around him. Even if he calls social services on me he'll be in your guardianship, if that's alright."

Ritch nodded and patted my shoulder. "That's fine. He likes it there. Took him skinny dipping in the pool last night, he absolutely loved it."

I raised an eyebrow and then quieted. "Have you fucked him yet?"

He chuckled once and gave me a more reassuring pat. "As much as I want to, and he wants to...no. I think your positive parenting, supportive environment, and like-peers all have rubbed off well on Cyric. The prior sexual history he has is irrelevant compared to his good upbringing since being in your care. He wants very much to do what we do, and what everyone in the house does, he very much wants to experience his father's love."

"I'm still iffy on this."

"Course you are. You said you would and wanted to, but I know we all have doubts."

"I'm just...I always thought I had some kind of line to whom or what I would not have sex with, and I thought he fit into that category. But, the more I think on it the more I want to share that bond that we have, and bring him closer to us."

"Perhaps it's destiny that he join us in our family fucks."

I shrugged. "Maybe... or maybe he was destined to be straight and have kids and not ride his relatives."

"You wont know until you get naked with him, pull him to your body and ask him if that's what he wants."

"And I take if you've done this?"

"Actually he more instigates more than anything. He'll rub his body against mine, find almost any excuse to get me to grope him, or any of your roommates for that matter. I'm the only one that will indulge in him, so he's been fixed on me lately, however he talks about wanting you."

"I guess it's the catholic somewhere in the back black recesses of my mind that thinks that an 11 year old isn't capable of wanting sex from his father, but the rest of me says that hell yeah I'd want it if our positions were reversed."

"Then enough debate. When you're ready, ask him."

"Well it's never quite that easy."

"Why not? If he's this eager to take off his clothes with me, I don't think that it will be so-"

"No no." I interrupted. "What I mean is, I don't know if it's so easy for me to ask. I suppose I'm accepting the will and want of the act, now just comes the clenching of the deal."

"Look, how about the two of you go skinny dipping when I take you home from the office. You're not due to have sex with Alex for a few days, and Neil's out on a business trip for a week. Do it when I take you home. Just right then, offer and go from there."

"Dad I..."

He narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at me. "So help me Renee, you were a tough cuss when you first met me and didn't hesitate to say what was on your mind. I find it hard to believe you'd be so timid around a boy when I'm so much more dangerous than he is."

"You're not 11 years old."

"No but my sex life felt that way before we met."

He did have a point. His sex life consisted of getting gangbanged at bathhouses and by informants every so often before I came along. Now I actually had given my father something he'd never experienced before, love from one body to another. Who knew what my son had been thinking about his own sex life...even though I felt it ludicrous for an 11 year old to have a sex life.

But, the devil in me stabbed me with it's ever so sharp pitchfork and reminded me I was getting fucked wild and raw at 14, so I was hardly one to talk.

"Well let's change the subject." Ritch said as he took my hand in his and squeezed then sat forward, gesturing me to stand. I followed him through the sea of cubicles. "How's Chong doing?"

I smiled a little. "Chong's never had more self-confidence than he has now. Winning the Rave-down really gave him a boost."

Ritch nodded. "I was beginning to wonder, you didn't talk about the rave for days after Jessie's death."

I shrugged, and adjusted my tie. "Would you? Honestly? Finding someone that you've slept with for years, and counted as a friend getting...destroyed like that?"

Ritch murmured in thought. "Appropriate word for it, but that's understandable. So, what's Chong doing with the money?"

"We said we were going to send most of it to Asher to help him get better, and divide the rest amongst ourselves. But since Chong won we let him keep the rest. So he's going to spend the upcoming weekend with Lt. Mitchell down in San Diego. You know, Sea World and the Zoo and all that. Mitchell has really had a vacation in years and he deserves it."

"That he does."

I didn't bother to comment on that one. Dad was kind of freaky that way. We made our way into the employee lounge, where a few agents were watching the news. It was a nice little area, carpeted and furnished. I slumped my way into an easy chair that had an ashtray full of snuffed cigarettes on the table beside it. I could use one, but the caffeine was helping a little bit. Dad sat across from me and wrapped his tail into his lap, a trend I've noticed I do as well.

"So, do we have any kind of a plan?" I asked.

"Nothing really. Again, Fletcher is like a greased up sumo wrestler. You can grasp at a thing or two but nothing that will give you a decent hold. We can get a thing or two, and maybe at the most detain him, but that's really nothing that will help and he'd be out in hours anyway and just be as surly as ever."

"But what about the mink?"

Father sighed and closed his eyes. "Now he's been someone I've wanted to get a hold of for a long time. Sirius Austin Duke-Conroy, the meanest criminal mastermind I've ever had the displeasure of tracking."

"Was he the one that took your eye?" I asked, gesturing to his patch.

He shook his head. "No, that was someone else. Though, I wouldn't be surprised if they were distantly related. Cousin's perhaps. Spike as you call him, is wanted on 4 continents for several crimes. However, he always comes up clean as a whistle. And for whatever reason, the LAPD and even some of our own agents at FBI for whatever reason seem to forget about him and pretend he isn't blatantly making porno videos."

"Could he have paid people off?"

"Doubtlessly Renee. This man is like the modern day godfather. Untouchable, and a downright evil bastard. And even if it was Spike that whacked Jessie, we have no way of proving it, he has an alibi that our supervisors are even willing to buy."

"And what is that?"

He rolled his eye. "He was balls deep in Alex."

I nodded. "That's entirely possible, but dad, this really sucks!"

"All we can do is wait for the tag-team of Alex and Spike to miss a step, and pray its one of us that catches his fall."

I stared intently at my father. I had never seen him so intense. He'd even gone back to wearing the patch on his eye as opposed to the glass eye. It was bold, considering how some agencies would put him into forced retirement if enough people thought he was incapable of performing (even though I can tell you he performs quite well...). My father stared into my eyes with the same kind of gaze many of my priests and teachers growing up had, as well as my former sensei. It was determination and calculation that I saw in his face, and eye.

"When is you're next meeting?"

"I meet with Alex after Sparky's Race on Sunday."

"Hmm...I want to try something, I'm going to be in the building that day, and whatever you do, just try to pretend that you don't really know me."

"I bet spike has already seen you over at the apartment. He's got his goons watching me like a hawk."

"Well regardless. I'm getting a plan in mind. If it works, we may yet see Fletcher behind bars."

"Lock him up with mom. That's the perfect punishment. A man hating woman and a woman hating man in the same cell, incapable of killing one another but forced to spend the rest of their lives in each-other's company..."

My father's face melted with laughter. It was a good laughing face, his muzzle all abreast with the joy of humor. "Oh god Renee, you want to destroy the planet? Those two would be worse than 3 mile island."

"Or Hiroshima." I said with a smile. Getting into the humor.

"Or Pompeii!" Dad joked right back.

"Or Titanic."

We joked along for a little bit, before my dad yawned. "You ready to go?"

I nodded. "I need to get out of this suit, and into something more comfortable."

"I hear you." Dad said as he loosened his tie and slipped it off.

Dad lead us down to his car, and waved to another agent he knew before driving us to his place. We rode in silence, just commenting on all sorts of irrelevant stuff like my opinion on fast food.

See, Dad and I disagreed about what was a better burger: flame grilled or old fashioned grilled. I was more of a fan of the old fashioned method, dad liked the flame method because he felt it locked in the flavor, and I liked the other method because I loved the grease. Mentioning grease made dad shudder, as he definitely had a figure to maintain. I mean I was damn good looking, but he was cut like a diamond compared to anyone I knew, including Sparky.

We stopped at our respective fast food joints, himself at BK and me at McDonald's. Don't get Dad wrong he likes big Mac's but wasn't really a fan of anything else. When it came to BK I loved their long chicken sandwiches. We both loved Carl's Jr. but it was so damned expensive.

As we got home to my Dad's place, I still couldn't believe how modern it looked. There was no real rhyme or reason to the design of the outside, and the inside matched. Hardwood floors that met carpet, that met tile, Cyric was on the couch playing the latest game from WWF. I was pleased to see that he had created Asher thanks to the create-a-wrestler program. The graphics were so real it looked like the real Asher on the TV wrestling against someone I'd never seen.

"Hey Dad, hey Ritch." He said with a smile as he mashed on the controller. "Come on! Come on! Tap out...tap!"

I sat down next to him. He was wearing just some underwear briefs and an FBI T shirt I guessed Dad had given him. He looked sexy that way. I guess dad was right. He had great legs and that nice purely beautiful form of youth. My body and mind could see him as beautiful, but would I be able to fuck him? I didn't know.

"Who are you fighting?"

"Rob Van Dam, he's a real high flier, high kicker, great body, nice butt, and hard to beat. He reminds me of you dad."

I was flattered. My blush showed it. "Really now, and who's winning?"

I looked on screen, the dragon RVD was in some kind of hold where his arm was placed between Asher's legs and his head was being pulled back at an obscene angle with Asher's arms tucked under the guy's muzzle. There was a little bar that went from blue to red with the red having "Submit" above it. There was a little white bar that moved back and forth depending on how much he mashed the buttons on the controller. It seemed that this attractive RVD that he'd been talking about was indeed a tough cookie.

"Can I play?" I asked.

"Sure...let me beat him first."

I nodded and stood to go to my dad's room. I leaned against the door frame, and my dad was sitting on the bed, fitting his glass eye into his face. "Told you."

"Well like I said forgive me for being the odd one out on this situation." I said walking towards my dad's closet. I stripped out of the suit, and laid it on his bed wearing one of Dad's faux-nude briefs. It did create the appearance of nudity. I kind of liked them, so I stole a pair, not that he really resisted. Oh there's not much Dad resists.

"Well...yeah he's hot...just...I'm..."

Dad smiled and said. "I'll just let you two be. We had our bonding time, now its yours." He said, drawing me into a deep kiss. I let him lead, holding him tight, tighter, squeezing him as tight as I could before I opened my eyes, and looked into his. "Good luck son."

I nodded and walked into the living room. Cyric looked up at me and blinked. "Dad are you naked?"

I laughed. "No, your grandfather made these to pose in cause it looks that way, but I'm not." I said cuddling up to him. Cyric obliged, and cuddled right back up against me, handing me a controller.

"I made you. Well...you had your hair when I made you, and they didn't quite have the tattoo you have on your chest but I did my best."

I cycled through the wrestlers, and found my way through the wresters that he had created. I passed over Asher, knowing that Cyric would probably want to play as him. I then came across myself and was mildly surprised at how accurate he was. I was wearing an old version of Kane's mask, a fishnet top, and some long black tights with a red demon on the legs, black boots like the ones I have with inverted crosses on the sides, and my hair actually moved when my character came to the ring. It was the right color and all of that. He'd used multiple tattoos to give me the simulation of the real tattoo I had on my chest. I came out the ring to red lights, and fire pyro, and Kane's music. I even did this nifty move where I dove into the ring literally with a jump and roll. I was impressed.

Asher came out dressed in accurate attire for what Cyric had put him in, the black tights, flags patterns, white boots, long hair and vest. I felt like I could reach out and grope him.

"Alright now how do I play this?" I asked with a smile, cuddled up nicely with him.

"Well you press circle to do a grapple. You can also do down and circle to do a submission grapple, or any other direction and circle to do another series of grapples, and once you got me, you repeat either just circle, or a direction and circle and it does a different move."

I thought about that. "So I have 25 moves from the front?"

"Yeah. And you do the same thing from behind, but it goes straight into a move."

"Well how do I do the submission holds and stuff?"

"Circle and a direction button when I'm on the ground. Down and circle will pin, and circle picks me back up again. Press circle twice quickly to stand behind me when you do that."

I nodded, getting the idea. "Running?"

"Triangle."

"Punching?"

Cyric laughed. "You don't have any punching moves. I gave you all kick moves since you're a kick boxer daddy."

"What? Daddy can't punch someone's daylights out?" I said jokingly, pulling him into my lap. He adjusted himself and sat, sliding between my legs with my crotch in his back.

"No," he said amiss giggles. "But X will take care of your kicks, or a direction button and X will do a special kick."

"And what about my big finisher?"

"Well on the last version of this game they had a version of the figure-4 leg lock, which is where you wrap their legs up with yours and break em, and you'd throw a hail satan taunt. They got rid of that one so I just gave you the regular figure-4 and a nasty tombstone piledriver."

"What's that?" I asked. I knew the moves but I thought it important to let him tell me.

"Its where you put my face in your crotch and hold me upside down and WHAM-," He said, slapping the couch. "You drive their head into the mat."

"I like having my face in guys crotches, it's a good move." I laughed.

"I figured you'd like it. My finisher is the Crippler Crossface. That's the move I was doing before, the other move is a move where I bend you over backwards called the Hass of pain."

I raised my eyebrow. "Sounds like the old black Irish rap group."

Cyric looked confused but I pet him and said. "Alright. Now how do I counter moves?"

"Hit L2 when I punch, or R2 for a grapple. And you counter finishers with L2 and R2 at the same time; that is if you're lucky enough."

I was amazed at my son's smugness. He was so much like me at his age. The images of me and Asher squared off, as we moved about, gauging distance and all that. Me I was learning the game, and my son was just trying to keep from getting his ass kicked. I saw him charge me, and pressed X quickly. Asher ran into a quick high kick with my right leg that sent him falling to the mat. I felt my controller vibrate, and all sorts of nasty ideas came to my head.

The first part of the match, my son kicked my ass, as I was trying to remember everything he'd taught me. I had given Asher a super kick at one point, and after sprawling to the mat like a sick rag doll, he sprang right back up. "Oh come on, if I really did that to Asher he wouldn't even be standing."

"Asher's tougher than you think." He said, mashing on the controller again, as Asher moved behind me, and gave me a series of vicious German suplexes. I noticed my body damage Icon was in the yellow already for the torso, and decided it was best for me to pull something. I tried an up circle grapple, then right circle, and I delivered a series of standard vertical suplexes releasing on the third suplex.

I picked up on the game rather quickly, and my counters proved deadly as his offence was stopped to a dead halt. I delivered a series of kicks, and nifty slams and submission holds, before my bar flashed. I figured it was time for a finisher.

"No no no!" Cyric said as I hoisted him up, put him upside down crotch to crotch, and tombstoned Asher. When my character's recoil stopped I went for the cover, but he wasn't able to kick out.

"Woo I won!"

Cyric smirked. "Alright best two out of three."

We restarted the match, and this time my son didn't hold back. He had failed to tell me about running attacks or grapples, or about being able to stall holds, or being able to hold onto holds when you've got a rope break. My son was smart, as well as cunning. I teased him during the match and would lick his neck, or tickle him, or even grope him as he tried to stay on top.

Needless to say, it was a squash match. All I could do was prevent him from winning rather than win myself. He'd go for his Crippler Crossface and with my fast fingers I was able to outmash him and keep that little white arrow from going past the Submit Line. His Hass Of Pain finisher was a little more difficult, as it involved stopping a little ball in the blue field. You only got 4 chances to do so, and the hold was doing more damage to my body and legs with each second it was applied. Now I was the one saying. "no no no!"

"Come on dad...tap out...you know you want to."

"No offence to Asher, but me tap out to him? Unlikely."

Then out of no where, Asher applied the Guillotine Choke, wrapping his arm around my neck in a side chokehold, driving my face to the mat, and wrapping his legs around my waist for leverage. I'd used this hold in martial arts before, and it was vicious. The arrow was so close to the Submit line I didn't catch it, and I tapped out, my hand slapping the mat. My son then bounced in my lap, clapping his hands. Man that felt good.

"Woo! I beat you daddy!"

"That you did. Now how about we do something special for the third match huh?"

"What kind of match? There's over 80 different types."

"Do they have a cage match?"

"What kind of cage?"

I blinked. The ones I remembered as a kid were the wire fences around the ring. "The wire fences around the ring?"

"They have those, and they have the bar kind of cages too, and even a BIG cell that you can climb on top of with a roof and throw one another off of."

That must have been the Hell in a Cell that Asher had spoken of. "Just a regular cage match."

Cyric set up the mach, and I could feel him rubbing his body against me. Hell it felt so good, to feel his soft and warm backfur rubbing right against my nearly naked crotch and tummy. I slipped my hands around him, and pet his own tummy back, selecting my wrestler when it was time. Cyric explained that you could win by pin, submission, escaping over the top of the cage, or through the door. That was a bit more than I remembered from when I was a kid, but that was just fine. I was beginning to feel that spark....that desire I feel when I desire someone for the first time. Dad and Neil evoked it most in me, and the more I felt that spark, I could feel my eyes burning with the flames of lust and love.

The cage match began without any entrances, and we squared off. This time I'd learned to avoid his charges by side stepping, or kicking faster than he could move. He responded by grappling me and slamming me into the cage. I turned around and did the same thing. As I wrestled I moves my controller, around front, holding it against his tummy with my hands, and still fighting.

I got better at countering, as well as he picked up on it as well, often we'd merely have a series of 8 counters in a row before anyone would get a maneuver off. Once, Cyric irish whipped me into a corner and superplexed me, and tried to make a break for the door. After some little mini game, I managed to keep Asher inside, letting the controller lay flat against his crotch. He moaned a little bit, then louder ever time he administered a move. My offence slacked...for some reason.

"Dad...that feels good..." He whispered.

"I know it does..." I said back.

He moaned, and kept fighting, kept attacking as my offence stopped entirely. The act had got me rather hard, and I knew he could feel it against his back. It was now or never Renee.

Cyric then put me in a series of long submission holds, barely tapping the buttons to prolong the vibrations, as I would rub the controller back and forth across his budding crotch.

Slowly, I slipped his shirt off, without any protest at all, and laid the controller in his lap, moving my hands to wrap around my 11 year old son, to massage him and hug him tight...to grind my manhood against his back. Cyric panted, and slowly, the controller slipped out of his hand when the bell rang. With a free hand I reached over, and turned off the TV, and continued to grind, and massage.

Cyric started to moan a bit louder now, with more enthusiasm as my hands explored him. We've never gone this far...the most we'd done is maybe kissed, showered together and cuddled nude in bed, but this was erotic and heavy petting. "Daddy..." he moaned.

"Son..." I moaned back. I pulled him up, and gave him a seat right on my crotch, so he could feel my hardness in his crack. He groaned and rocked his hips back and forth, already having a keen idea of what to do. "May I...."

"Yes..." Cyric whispered, his voice whispering. "Please daddy...I've wanted this...I know you don't think it's right but...please?" he begged.

I guess that's all that I needed. My hands went and one opened the front of his little boy briefs, and gave me access to oblivion. I slipped my hand my hand inside the front of his briefs and gripped his sheath for the first time. He groaned, and writhed, arching his back against my body. His sheath was plumper than I thought it would be, about the same size I was at his age, around 5 inches worth of boyhood.

I stood him up, taking only that brief moment to grope him. The controllers fell to the floor with a clutter, before I spun my son around, and pulled him to me, stripping his briefs down, and feeling his nude against my body. I needed to delve into my deepest of lusts, to really get this party started. I pulled his form to mine, and brought him into a kiss. Cyric was a learned kisser I quickly came to discover, our tongues mingling in a very precise and affectionate manner. Much like with Ritch I felt that little glass wall inside of me shatter, what little sense of morals I had, shattered with the first kiss of my son.

I let out a growl, and rolled on top of him, pinning him to the couch, and pinning his arms down, as I kissed my way down his body, being rough and aggressive in my licks and kisses. I hadn't been this aggressive in a while, and I felt that restraint in me snap. If he was going to be my son, he'd learn the same way I learned: being bucked wild and ferociously all in the name of the dark lord.

"Live life in the absence of guilt..." I groaned to myself, as I rounded my son's taut and lean boyish stomach devouring his little navel. His body twisted and his face grimaced under my attentive administrations. I moved my hands from his arms to his nearly non existent chest, and squeezed what I could. He groaned, and I could feel his sheath spitting forth the skin and flesh of his length, his immature length laying against my chest. I could feel it, his very sex, that which made him masculine, throbbing and erect against my chest in the most sinful of contacts. Like the very flames of perdition, my body warmed and my eyes burned with a lusty rage.

"Yes....yess...." Cyric moaned. He didn't know really how to talk dirty, but, as his hair spilled about his shoulders, and he thrust against my body, I knew that there was definitely no turning back now. I closed my eyes and made a long driving lick back up his body, tasting his skin and fur and my own saliva building up as I made it up his neck and drove my tongue back into his mouth. He groaned and was getting used to such aggression, his body writhing against me. Now I knew what drove those boys so wild about me, my almost innocence, my nubile unspoiled body, my utmost perfection. His mouth was softer and more flavorful than any other mouth I had the pleasure of kissing. My tongue took up most of his muzzle, but the feeling of dominating it, claming his mouth for my own, stirred those lusty flames and stroked the bestial side of me; the same side of men that we all have to utterly dominate every living thing we come across and fuck the living shit out of it merely because we got the cock.

I adjusted myself, my own manhood had been spat out a long time ago, and was almost impossible to store inside the garment. A dark wet spot began to form on the wet fabric. I teasingly spread my son's legs while I kissed, hooking one of them and drove my cocktip hard against his young tailhole. He grimaced and wimpered, closing his eyes tighter and holding my shaved head firm in his hands, keeping my tongue inside. My garment protected him form entry, but that didn't stop me from digging the wet fabric tip against his most intimate of regions.

I debated, and argued with myself. I wanted to simply forgo the aspect of foreplay and ram my cock in right then and there, claiming my son as my own...however I didn't want to hurt him. Prudence was called for. My hand's left his upper body, and took grasp of my son's erect cock, grasping it tight in my hand. It was a bright bright pink, and glistened in my father's den lights. It was a good cock, bigger than I thought it would be. He had not much length but for 11 he had a bit more girth than I had imagined. I couldn't wait to have him top me, not for an instant.

But my ass was off limits for this moment. With a guiding grope, I broke the kiss, and turned my son over. "Oh dad you're so rough..."

"It's the way this happened to me my first time." I said softly, and dove on his cock. It entered my mouth before my lips closed around it, as if I was devouring my son's sex to emasculate him. He was bitterly salty, which hinted at extreme potency. He must have been producing sperm already. Tasty.

I kept his cock in my mouth, but turned him on all fours, tucking his cock under his scrotum, his little knot looking almost like a second scrotum, with the way it dislodged his sex organs. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ritch watching, a look of sincere approval on his face before I saw him disappear back into his room. Good, as much as I loved dad, this was my private time. I had enough second thoughts about this moment the last thing I needed was him confusing my lustful raging beast that was lavishing this ravish upon my boy child.

My mouth held him firm, nursing on his little cockhead, and running up and down his length while my tongue teased the little divot in the head we vulpines have. I knew the boy wasn't going to last to terribly long like this. I let his cock spill from my mouth, and told him to hold still, as I walked to their bathroom, and produced a bottle of lube. My son, catching onto the idea, pounced me without warning, thrusting his young body against mine. I fell, only out of sheer surprise; unlike the childhood me that once rode many an older cock, I was entirely submissive. It would seem young Cyric was more versatile than I imagined. I was in love...

Cyric grabbed for my faux nude fox brief and pulled it from my body - well more appropriately down to my knees, and I kicked them off. Cyric for a brief moment looked upon my body in awe. Perhaps he realized what I realized the first time I saw my father naked; that's where I came from. "It's so pretty." Cyric said as he grasped me in his hand, and plunged my head into his mouth.

Now it was my turn to writhe. His preteen mouth, felt utterly stupendous upon the delicate skin of my shaft. He grasped my budding knot in his hand, and massaged it gently, caressing the sensitive bulb at the base of my cock that had once spat forth the very substance that created him. He was getting a sample of that very serum the way he was working on my body. I could feel it bubbling inside of me, my child making sperm, boiling like the magma chamber to a mighty volcano. I could sense every single pass of his tongue, and almost every single taste bud massaging my fleshy meat. His cheeks were white hot on me, and softer than a harem's pillow. Oh hell I was enjoying this.

His head twisted and turned, changing up the angle. Cyric could fit nearly all of me into his mouth, stopping when his teeth hit my knot. Oh by the devils I was in ecstasy. I held Cyric's face right there, not letting him pull off. I wanted to feel this, my own son, deep on me with a mouth full of the cock that spurned him life. It was so forbidden, yet so right and natural...my fears were dying quickly.

Cyric moaned and cringed for a moment, before he went lax in my lap. I felt it. My leg was getting wet. He was spraying his cum all over my leg. Over and over again I felt the hot liquid coat me, as I felt him nurse on me. He had come without even touching himself! Amazing. And for an 11 year old, I daresay he came more than me, leaving my groin, thigh, knee, and shin utterly soaked in his underage seed. But his orgasm didn't stop him. No not in the least, for he began sucking me anew with more passion and ferocity that I had never expected a boy to posses.

He kneeled, his cock dropping slightly, but still out of his young sheath, dripping the remnants of his load onto the floor. Cyric then grabbed the lube, and poured some onto his sheath, stroking it a little, and then applied a few squirts to his fingers. While still maintaining his cock lock, he lifted his tail high, and let out a tiny scream as he started to finger himself; a soft squelching sound coming from behind him.

"Does that hurt?" I asked, despite my lust and rage I was still a parent as well as a sex partner.

"Nah...It's just been a little bit since I've played with my butt. Once you're cock is in me I'll feel better."

"That's more like it."

"Dad, whatever you don't ever let anyone take me away, you've been the best to me."

"Because I'm fucking you now?"

"Because you treated me like you gave a damn, that's why. And that's why I want to sleep with you dad, because you love me. You're not using me for gain like mom did...now...fuck me ....err I can say that can I?"

I patted his head and rubbed my cock in his face. "Just in the bedroom if you don't mind."

Cyric then turned around and bent over right in front of me, lowering his head and placing his palms on the floor. His young and skinny butt gave way to reveal that pinkish, now a bit more reddish tailhole that had been lubed. "I think you should loosen me up daddy, It'd be more fun."

"I agree." I said as I gripped some boy seed off my body, and rubbed it onto my fingers. It was a change of pace from the aggression, near-rape like sex we were having, but I could get back to that momentarily. I wanted to make sure I didn't rip him apart when I penetrated him.

With his sticky whitish yellow boycum on my fingers, I pushed a finger inside of him, pressing my knuckles against his scrotum. My middle finger was buried deep inside, and he shouted out in response, gripping the carpet tight. Hearing someone so young do that, was just like the videos I used to watch. It was much easier to watch than it was to do. I pressed my finger up and like a football player responding to the snap, he tossed his head back and screamed. "YES!". Apparently I'd found my son's little love button. I then began to scrunch my finger back and forth inside, not quite finger banging yet, but letting him feel the range of my fingers, letting those membranes wrap around my digit and hold it ever so tight. I could feel his sphincter rhythmically expand and contract against the base of my finger, as if trying to pull me in. I smiled, and gave my son a mean but well-mannered stab with my finger, and wiggled my finger about.

Cyric was alive with passion, as he gripped the carpet tight, and bellowed and bayed like a woman in heat. His tail wagged furiously, and his butt fought my finger's onslaught. I was never one to be beat-out by a butt hole, and so I began the finger banging. I pulled back, and stabbed in, Cyric grunting deep and guttural like he'd been socked in the gut with each thrust, and taking a deep breath with each withdrawal. I could see my son was set to be a regular power bottom, and was going to love every moment of what I was doing.

I twisted my finger back and forth, moving it from left to right, changing the way my finger hit his insides when I pushed in. By now his hole gave me hardly any resistance, and I could wiggle the finger against his little lovebutton as much as I wanted. As I did so, I inserted a second finger, and wiggled them in alternating pistoning motions. One finger pushed forward and dabbed his little button, and the other button pulled back and wiggled to keep him softened. I could see his reflection in the TV, his eyes were clenched and lips pulled back in a look of near terror or pain, like a bad anime drawing. However I now knew that wasn't what he was feeling it was extreme pleasure that was almost driving him to tears.

When I felt he had been given enough, I inserted a third finger with a slick plop, an gave him some more boycum lube. This time I moved the fingers in a piano like motion across his insides, tickling his precious innards like they were keys. My son was gasping and gulping for breaths, as I gathered he was continually being racked in a never-ending and torturous full-bodied orgasm. It was possible to orgasm without ejaculation, and even to do it many times as I could attest. As I had told myself, It was a good thing it was me doing this, rather than some stranger now. He deserved what I was giving him, and I deserved the chance to give it to him.

Before he could think, I changed it up, and pulled my fingers out, and grasped his tail firm in my hand, suspending him with it. He yelped, unexpectant of this maneuver, ad I spat on his very hole, letting my saliva splatter against his hole, before I lowered him back down, and applied some lube to my own shaft. It greased up well, and I knew it was time to resume the animalistic mating. I pressed the tip to his hole, and I could feel the flames of hell around us, a chorus of devils cheering us on, and I gripped his waist tight, as I took the first plunge.

Years ago, that was me, bent over before my then masters, my 14 year old butt full of cock. My mouth stuffed with two, and more in my hands to play with. I was their sexual altar, and right now, my son was meeting the same fate. Oh is joy...

I felt myself inside him. The one thing I thought I'd never do, I was doing. I was balls deep in him, and wanted more. I didn't stop pressing forward, I was going to do it the way they did, press forward till I felt my very cock was going to rip from my body and crawl inside, and press hard until I felt his whole body wrapped around me. My knot throbbed against his insides, which throbbed back against me. Dual heartbeats joined in the act of sex.

My knot wasn't big enough yet to lock me completely inside, but with his size, it wouldn't take much, so I needed to act quickly. I reached down, and squeezed my knot hard, letting out a gasp as I knew how strong of a sensation that caused in me, and began to rock my cock back and forth in him. The lube was so warm and slick, it felt so good and so real and so good. It was better than what I imagined those on the TV and stage had been doing.

It was the second youth I'd ever been with, the young feline friend of Rowdy's being the only other I'd romanced. But this was far more intimate, rather than fucking on the way to a race. I was with my son, deep inside, holding my knot down to keep it from growing too big too quick.

Cyric grunted, and howled his delight, pushing back against me, throwing his weight into it, his body begging for me in a way his mouth could not. I went hard, fast, and deep, using my sheer force to let him have it, eventually letting go of my knot, and letting myself get those full strokes.

My hands slithered up his body as I made the rape like stabs of his tiny rear, my balls slapping his own, and my pelvis slamming his fanny hard. Eventually I was forced to push him to the ground, as my body loomed over his. I just lifted his rear, and took it. Slamming my cock in and out of him. Young Cyric laying there like a very willing victim, arms splayed, precum gushing out the sides of his hole and spattering me. The lube and sexual juice we were making was dripping down our legs, along with our growing sweat. Cyric humped his cock against the soft carpet, as if stoking it back to life, and at the same time giving me much more pleasure as he changed the angle I was fucking. It was like a new boy with each penetration, my son never the same and never dull. Oh sweet bliss.

I pushed his cock down and his ass so he was perfectly flat on the floor. Now I was really letting him have it, slamming my full body weight in and out. I was so deep inside of him, I could even feel the hardness of the floor through his body. Yes! I was being so dominant. "YES! LOVE THIS!" I howled, leaning down and biting the scruff of his neck, now rabbit fucking him. Having slept with one several times lately, I knew just how to do this and do it right. I then felt Cyric's young and stinging hole's lips close around the bottom of my knot, and hold me in. Weather it was time or not, I didn't know, but we were joined now either by fate or his will.

Cyric was crying out, gasping and sputtering, hyperventilating with how exquisite it was. His cock about ready to burst with another load. I stabbed my cock home, and pulled him into a sitting position so we could see our reflection in the TV. I don't think Gustauv himself could have filmed us better. There we were, clasped together in that unholy union. There weren't words to describe.

With a final thrust, and burst, I exploded inside of him. My cum spattered and spewed into his depths, the only remaining catalyst necessary for the chemical composition that was our love.

We held one another, Cyric's second orgasm hitting so close to mine I thought they were simultaneous. His cum sprayed up and splattered his chest. I imagined if he'd been masturbating then this was probably more powerful than he was used to. I could feel his prostate and hole closing and milking me for my orgasm.

It took us a little bit, but we caught our breath. Cyric laid against me, sprawled and spent. Loosing one's virginity is a momentous occasion, and I didn't doubt it had called upon a great deal of effort in order to please me in the way he had done. I was proud, he was my kid.

Ritch walked in, now wearing some tight jeans and holding a camcorder in his hand. The glowing red light indicated he was recording. I laughed; I laughed a hopeless, unbelieving, and yet amused laugh. "I got the whole thing on tape, and damn...I think I need a cigarette." Ritch said, smiling.

Cyric groaned and laughed himself. "Silly grandpa." He said softly.

"You okay boy?" I asked.

"I feel great. I'm a little sore, but I'll live." He sighed, closing his eyes and falling instantly asleep.

Ritch shut off the camera, and set it down, slumping down beside me, and putting an arm around me. "So?"

I blinked and looked at him. "It was better than I thought it would be. What do you expect me to say?"

"Nothing. Watching you with him said it all." Ritch said as he stared forward, looking at the reflection of the three of us in the TV. "Renee, I want you to know I didn't initiate this because I'm just some kind of pervert. I wanted to bring us together, I wanted to bring the family close since I really felt I had none of my own."

"Dad...I'm not mad. I may have just felt a little pressured. It seemed every time we talked you just asked me over and over again when I was going to fuck him. That's all. I mean yeah I had thought about it, but I wasn't ready all those times you asked. This time, it was the right time." I said. "Just promise me dad you're not going to give me a hard time about all of this."

Ritch nodded.

"I mean, a few years ago I could have been sent to jail for a long time for this. I'm still just getting used to the idea is all. It's like...getting used to a new car I suppose."

"Well when you put it that way, I suppose I was rather incessant."

"Incessant about incest Dad. But then again, I can understand the sales pitch ya made, that's why I don't blame you at all."

"I appreciate that."

"You're welcome. Now dad, on another matter, we have to keep Cyric safe at all costs. I don't care what happens to me in this whole Alex thing, but I'd kill me if anything were to happen to Cyric."

"I see."

"Dad, I don't care if you have to go federal on this, but I want the maximum protection for him."

"Well again I'll see what I can do."

"Good, I'd be grateful for that."

My cell phone then rang. Being a little tied up, I couldn't necessarily leap up to grab the phone. Thankfully dad was willing to help me out with the problem. The number on the ID was Rowdy's, so I answered it. "Yeah?"

"Hey Ne, Fletcher's pushed the relocation program up a few notches. I don't know what pissed him off, but he's going to start deconstruction in a few days, so we're all going to start moving our shit out."

"What? What do you mean, he said he'd wait till the end of the month."

"Hey, don't ask me Mr. Endorsement deal. You already are getting some heat with some of the residents over this whole thing. Fletcher's got a crew already tearing apart the empty rooms, and he's going to work his way up here in 3 days at least. So I'm covering my ass and getting this all taken care of."

"What do you propose?"

"Well, Neil is getting an apartment across town for you two, so that'll be taken care of. It's too small for all of us, so we're all splitting up. I myself am going to rent out Khris and Micah's spare bedroom, and Asher's still up in Portland getting treated. Chong's going to stay at Mitchell's place by what he's told me, and Sparky and Jay took out their life savings to buy a luxury bus to live in."

I sighed, and my hand quivered. The band was breaking up. We had been a tight nit group for almost a year, we had seen Christmas together, new years, and all the great holidays. Now, one man with a psychotic urge for revenge was breaking up the only group of real friends I had. It was intolerable. I wasn't going to cry...I wasn't."

"Well, just be sure to leave the door unlocked, and pack my stuff up if you would. As soon as I'm finished here, I'm going to head over."

"Alright. I'll pack your shit up real nice." Rowdy said with a humorous tone.

"Oh Rowdy, if I wasn't so upset over this I may have considered that an offer."

Rowdy laughed and then sighed himself. "Yeah I know...I know. Anyway Ne, you do what you've got to do...With as little stuff as we all have here, most of the shit in here is yours, so all the guys will be out in almost no time."

"Really? Well I'll be over as soon as I can, I'm a little tied up here at the moment."

There came silence, and then another chuckle. "That supposed to mean something?"

"Yeah it means just what you think. As soon as I'm freed up I'll shower and get going."

"Alright, we'll be there."

* * *

Meanwhile...

* * *

Spike pulled up the apartment building in an old Chevy nova. He detested the bullet casing copper color, and the ruined leather upholstery. He couldn't complain, he'd stolen it. The nova was one of his "safe cars": cars that cops particularly weren't interested in screening or looking out for. It's not often you hear about Nova's being involved in crime, or vintage 70's Nova's being particularly interesting on the resale market.

Spike detested being here. As much as he cared for Alex, even having his trophy room installed for him, he detested the building. The very sight of it made him feel unpleasant. Spike didn't like to talk to anyone about it, but outside of his safehouses, ghettos, cars, and even the streets he honestly didn't feel comfortable inside of a home. Spike wasn't used to it. He wasn't used to things being so orderly, clean, and organized. It all seemed fake to him, like a gift just to have it taken away.

As Spike walked past the cheery rabbit desk receptionist at the bottom of the building to enter the elevator, he had visions of his childhood.

Spike could remember being a child. Born to a whore, whom had to cart him around like a piece of unwanted luggage, while his father was out there somewhere in the world, living a successful life.

Oh how he loved killing them both for the rotten childhood he had to experience. Now he was his own man, and had a son of his own...inbred but still his son. Morbius despite being mute was possibly his best and trusted ally, even more than his beloved Alex.

Ah, he thought of Alex. He wondered if it really was love he felt. Normally the men he used in the past, he'd grown bored with rather quickly, and boredom normally lead to their deaths. Alex Fletcher was different and he couldn't place his finger on it, he couldn't understand why Alex was so hard to figure out. Alex wasn't just some rich daddy's boy, nor was he some corporate snob; Alex was someone with real bite to his bark and real sting in his whip. It always made his cock particularly hard to think of Alex trying to be more butch than he was.

Spike put his penthouse key in the slot, and turned it, bringing the elevator into motion. The mink shuffled around in place, and leaned against the old elevator wall. Alex wasn't a pushover, and Spike despised pushovers. Could it have been that Alex wasn't an easy man to break? Could it have been that Alex was so willful in his ways when it came to him and yet he'd continue to come back for more? Alex certainly had that quality about him. He could break Alex's arms, and Alex would merely see it as an opportunity to take time off work and spend more time in his sadistic embrace. Alex also quenched his own thirst for pain, and made him feel needed, and necessary, and that always stirred his black heart.

And boy did the two of them share an immense and undying hatred for me. Every time I crossed Spike's mind, he grew more and more hateful towards me. Unlike me, he knew exactly why he wanted me to die.

"I'm jealous of you Renee Morningstar, I'm envious! It's not right! We're the same Renee, we're the same weather you want to admit it or not. You and I, both abandoned by our fathers, having mothers that in their own way would have left us for dead. I don't understand it, why did YOU succeed while I am riddled with constant failure? Why did you get friends who love you and care about you and are more than willing to take it up the ass for you at the drop of a hat when I've had to rape and murder in order to get love? Why do you get the fancy apartment when all the homes I've lived in have been nothing but run down dives? Tell me that Morningstar! Tell me why you deserve this life! Tell me why you feel you should be able to prance around on the movies like the feminine little queen you are, while the only time I get on TV is on the 11 o'clock news or America's Most Wanted? I can't believe how ignorant you are, and your almost unending luck. It's not fair Morningstar...It's not fair. Everything I've paid for I've paid for in blood - mine and the blood of others - and it's hi time you pay up as well. I don't care what I have to do Morningstar, but I won't rest until you're as miserable as I am, I won't rest until you beg me to stop. I'll be willing to kill everyone you know and care about, just so I don't have to think about you being more successful than I am. You may control the hearts of the nation at the moments, but I control the world of crime...and that's the truth."

The door to the elevator opened. The spacious hallway that once belonged to the ferret brothers now opened up to his territory, his room. At the end of the hallway Alex's bodyguards stood with the fat one, Fabian.

"You, fat boy, was the package delivered as I instructed?" Spike asked as he strutted his way down the hallway.

Fabian adjusted his tie and began his trademark stuttering that was surely likely to be his death before it did anything else. "I...err...err yes mista Spike sir. She got it this morning."

"Good, at least some thing is going right. Now move before I pull a Charleston Heston and part the red sea on your asses."

The goons and Fabian scooted aside, letting him through. Spike opened the double doors, and walked in on Alex, whom was meeting with a Japanese looking rabbit.

"Yes that's right Mr. Yang. I'm sure you're going to love your investment in Fletch-co. And I'll make sure that my servant Mr. Grizzard has your parting gift sent out to you, she was one of my favorites and I know you'll love having her in your office."

The Rabbit stood, and Alex followed suit, in order to bow. "Mr. Fletcher, you drive a hard business, and your proposal is very stimulating. I am sure I'm going to be most pleased indeed with my investment."

"I'm very glad. Is there anything else I may be able to help you with?" Alex asked, folding his hands gently.

"Where is Mr. Morningstar, your spokesperson? He is rather popular over in Tokyo."

"Have you seen Mr. Morningstar Spike? Ah Mr. Yang I'd like for you to meet my personal and professional partner Spike. Spike, meet the head of the Yang-Yi electronic company Mr. Akira Yang."

Spike bowed, in near perfect form to Mr. Yang. "As far as I know, the fox has been more elusive than normal lately. As far as I know is he makes our appointments but otherwise he is rather reclusive as of late."

"Oh, shame. My aikido master has been wanting to get his autograph and I personally have been wanting to visit him for the prospect of a healthy challenge."

Spike twitched for a moment, before he took a breath. "I'm sure that can be arranged. I'm quite sure that you'll be able to see him quite soon. I can even give you the address of his dojo. Did you know that, Morningstar actually teaches local queer youth?"

"So I have heard. That is not dishonorable. But if you could give me that address, then I'd appreciate it."

Spike grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the address to my Camellia dojo. Mr. Yang then gave another respectful bow, and then left the room. Spike placed his hands on the desk, and stared at his reflection in the hardwood desk, before Alex cleared his throat.

"Is there something wrong Spike?"

"It's that Morningstar. Every time I turn around I just hate him more and more. I haven't hated anyone this bad since my mother." Spike said, shaking his head. "And it's always obnoxious to hear these people so ready to sing the praises of this fox. I...I can't stand his success!"

Alex bit his lip, and moved forward, to wrap an arm around Spike's waist. "Are you going to be ok."

"I'm going to be fine...but I want to kill him Alex...I want to. I know it's not part of the plan, but...I want to bathe in his blood...I want to smear his entrails across my naked flesh...to know I'd never have to deal with his success again."

Alex grimaced, and coughed once. "Enchanting. I have urges of killing him too, but we just have to stick it out."

"I can't stick it out." Spike said, tossing off his jacket, and throwing it to the floor. "I need blood. I need to kill someone."

Alex then moved his hands across his mate's chest, and undid his pants. They fell to the floor, revealing Spike's nude body, as Alex corralled Spike's cock into his hands, stroking it over gently as if he was soothing Spike's hand. "I have a proposal for you, an offer you may not want to refuse."

"Oh? And is there a reason you're sexing me at this particular moment?"

"It may help you, and I'm more than willing to please you, just give me a moment to tell you my plan. Oh by the way, Mercedes loved the mink coat you sent her, she was surprised it was so big and the fur was so well kept."

Spike smiled and evil smile, and grew almost instantly hard. "I know she'd love my handiwork. She deserves it. Now lets here what you have to say, before I decide to shove my cock into your mouth."

* * *

Later

* * *

When I opened the door to the apartment, I guess Alex was in the throes of passion, because I wasn't immediately strong-armed into his office. I could care less. There were boxes out in front of almost every door in every hallway that I visited. Everyone seemed in a hurry to move. There were plenty of Fletch-co boxes to go around, what with Fletcher's relocation program. It was convenient that there were enough boxes to go around and all had Fletcher's logo on it.

While I was still respected, sometimes the looks I got from my fellow tenants weren't the friendliest. That's something I wish I could say I didn't care about, but I could not deny that since becoming a big part of the public, now I was actually able to be stirred by the public's opinion.

When I opened the door to the apartment, it was all but empty. All that was really left was the couch , my bed, and a few of the wall decorations. Sparky was sitting on the couch, watching an episode of Star Trek:TNG. It had been nearly a year since I'd seen the place so deserted. Sparky himself looked upset, leaning his cheetah cheek against his hand, the remote control in his scant clad lap. He was wearing a pair of black string bikini briefs, and nothing else, his jeans and T Shirt and boots piled next to the couch.

"Why you undressed?" I asked casually, walking into the kitchen to find that the fridge had been drained as well. Thankfully they'd left me some yogurt to eat, otherwise I would have had to order out.

"I just don't feel like wearing clothes right now. Jay's already driving out towards the track, to make sure the car is okay, and so I got no where to go for the night. Figure I'd just stay here until you officially left."

"Sounds good. I think I'll join you then, I just talked to Neil and I don't think I'm going to be going anywhere tonight either."

I walked into my room which had already been pretty much packed. I stripped down to the faux-nude briefs that dad had given me, and slipped down onto the couch next to Sparky. For a moment he checked me out as if I was naked, but then smiled and put an arm around me. "For a second I thought you were naked."

"Yeah it gets everyone. Dad has these briefs for his muscle-shows. I grabbed a couple of his bigger pairs for myself, just cause I felt like taking a few."

Sparky chuckled. "That's one way to do it. Just grab their undies and make em yours. Haven't you done that with all of us at one point?"

I nodded. "Yup, Everyone I've ever slept with I keep a pair as a trophy, that and if I write their name on the tag I can keep track of my sexual history, and slip on a trophy pair if I ever feel really proud."

"I got your email on the phone, were you fooling? Or did you really do it?"

I shook my head, as a pair of ugly Klingons walked onto the screen. "No it's no joke. I really did have sex with him."

"No..." He said in disbelief. "You really...really...fucked Cyric?"

I nodded. "Sure as the day is long Sparky."

Sparky held a hand over his mouth and let out a breath he'd been holding. "Wow...so...how was it?"

I kicked back, and let my briefs stir a little bit, the thought of what just transpired a few hours ago was already beginning to overwhelm my sense of morals and my normal satanic lusts for good sex spurned me onward.

"It was probably the best sex I've ever had with a youth." I said with a smirk.

"Wouldn't that be the only sex you've had with youths?"

I shook my head. "On the contrary; I've coupled with - as an adult - an 11 year old, a 15 year old, and some 16 and 17 year olds that faked their age when they came on the set at A&S Films."

Sparky looked down and rubbed his head. "You're a pedophile?"

I didn't react to the question. "Not necessarily. I'm attracted to Cyric, and there is the occasional boy that stirs my mood, but don't expect me to be entertaining local middle schools if you get my drif; I've coupled with - as an adult - an 11 year old, a 15 year old, and some 16 and 17 year olds that faked their age when they came on the set at A&S Films."

"And you didn't get arrested?" Sparky said, now totally forgetting the episode on TV. Funny, I never recalled an episode of TNG where the Borg attacked the Klingons.

"No. The 15 year old was Rowdy's cat friend. The others, because they lied to me and to Gustauv that's on their asses; besides at that time it wasn't illegal to sleep with a minor above the age of 14, and just two years ago it became legal to engage in sex with minors above the age of 10. So legally I'm all good for it."

Sparky clenched a fist and then relaxed. "God damn...I have wanted to fuck Cyric since the moment I laid eyes on him."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I lied Renee...please don't tell anyone...please...I just...you're the only one I can trust."

"Lied about what?"

Sparky sobbed once and then fell into my arms hugging me tight. "I did it..."

"Did what?" I asked, genuinely at a loss for words. "Just tell me, whatever it is."

"Please just don't tell anyone...I don't want to get in trouble..."

"For the love of Belial just tell me and I'll try to keep you out of trouble."

"Renee, remember the 8 year old boy that I told you I was babysitting?"

"Yeah...vaguely."

Sparky shoved me and looked at me sternly. "What do you mean vaguely? That was like the whole reason I'm here! Because of the accusation I fucked my rival's kid."

"Well that I remember, but I don't remember the kid really. I remember you babysat him but nothing else really."

"Alright then listen. I told you that we used to cuddle, wrestle, skinny dip, swim in our underwear, mud wrestle...all that jaz..."

"Yeah...I don't follow."

"Renee don't you get it? I WAS fucking him."

My jaw dropped. "What??"

"Yeah. I'd been doing sexual stuff with him since I could remember. The whole carrot incident, malarkey. He called his dad while I was fucking him, and I told him to say something, anything...then I came up with the campfire idea. Jesus...Renee I've been molesting that kid since he was at least 6. Taking turns suckin one another off...and recently he started bottoming for me, and me for him. He loves it Renee..."

"Sweet Satan's semen..." I said softly.

"Yeah..." Sparky sighed as he laid his head in my lap, feeling the hard on inside. He nuzzled it a little bit and hugged me tight. "I fucked him in every conceivable position, every which way...lubed and unlubed...top and bottom...condoms and no condoms...everything I could think of. I wanted to turn him into my own sexual boy-god. I have this thing Renee...Jay doesn't know...but I'm totally into boy worship."

"Boy worship..." I said, nearly as a question.

"Oh come on, you know what I mean? You know...like muscle worship or cock worship. Where you literally submit and treat them like they are a divine being....I've always found boys sexy Renee. I've long since given up denying it. That kid...he was beyond the best sex I've ever had...no offence of course. But, what kills me Renee...is...I see Cyric parading around in his undies, swimwear, and naked even...and every fabric in me just wants to bend him over and ram my tongue deep in his ass, and give that boy the pleasure every boy needs to get. I've had thoughts of molesting him, and raping him if necessary, but...I've restrained myself Renee. I hoped the day would come along that one of us would make the move or he'd do it on us. Then recently your dad groped him and the kid said he wanted it. Now I hear you fuck him, and it's like a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Fuck me Renee...please fuck me...Take my body, do whatever you want to it, anything if I can just have one night...one night with your son."

I couldn't believe my ears. What he had told me was so perverted and wrong in one sense of my mind, and yet so erotic...I actually wet myself. Urine freely flowed into the face of Sparky, soaking the briefs, and wetting his face. Sparky latched his mouth around the end of my sheath through the fabric and sucked. It was such a sudden thrill, I jerked, and stopped the flow. I pulled him back by his collar, and pulled my briefs down, tossing them over my shoulder with a flump. I pulled my pink limp shaft from the sheath, and slid it into his mouth, holding it there. Weather he was into Watersports before or not, he was going to drink. "Drink...if we're gonna do this..." I groaned.

My stream started to flow. It'd been a while since I'd cut loose with someone, and this was the right time and the right place it seemed. Sparky held my limp foxhood inside of his mouth, and let my stream pool inside, his lips forming a tight seal around the skin so he wouldn't spill. I felt the hot liquid waste filling his mouth, almost to the point that his cheeks were going to rupture from the pressure, oh it was definitely good. It was so wrong, but by the hells it was also so right, given my recent freeing of inhibitions. "Come on suck it down..." I ordered.

On cue, Sparky closed his eyes, and swallowed, I paused the stream, and he swallowed till his mouth was dry, and pulled off to gasp for air. He looked up at me and panted. "Haven't done that before...but don't stop..." He begged before sliding me back in. Seeing a few drops being spilled on the couch, I decided it was best to stand, rubbing my nearly bald head, and holding his, beginning to guide my stiffening cock in and out of his food hole, before I continued to urinate. At this point it was not a matter of merely relaxing, now I was pushing to keep the stream going. Sparky closed his eyes and opened his mouth, letting the pool-up spill around his body and onto the hardwood floor. He gargled, and rubbed it into his fur. At first I thought he was crazy, but then I realized his intent. If the building was just going to be torn down, who cared about piss stained wood? At that idea, I pulled my cock out of his mouth, and relaxed, as he smeared his now yellowish-white chest fur down, and looked thirsty for more.

"Fuck Renee...I never...never did that before...I...I want more...do everything to me...just...just use me. Do whatever you want...don't even ask...just...rape me Renee...don't hold back."

"Well there are some stuff I still won't do...but...I'll indulge myself. Lets just say, I feel the devil stirring inside of me."

And boy was it. Voices in my head, had given me all sorts of ideas. However, before I entertained any of them, I still had a bladder to empty. "You can fuck Cyric on the conditions that after Dad has had him to himself once, and dad and I have shared him at the same time, and provided Cyric is okay with it, I'll let you do boy worship with him. I also recommend talking this over with Jay."

He shook his head, rubbing his hard human like cock through his scant briefs. "He can't know...I...I don't think I'm even sexually attracted to him anymore...but...I'll tell him in time..."

"Good...well time for your bath..."

After being relaxed enough to soften my erection, I held my tip in my hand, and started to piss once again. The clear yellow stream began to unload on his chest, and I guided it up towards his face. Sparky groaned and closed his eyes, and let it splash over his body, as he stripped out of his briefs, scotching them off, and catching part of the stream in his mouth to gargle. He was taking to it better than I thought he would. Some people who try it for the first time realize it's more of a fantasy than a kink with them, but not Sparky. Sparky looked ready to have auditioned for the Golden Tub by the looks of it.

I moved the stream downward, and he gulped, coughing a little bit, but moaning as my stream fell onto his cock. His tan member now glistened, and started to leak his own stream. He sat in that kneeling position, my stream hitting his shaft, and his own hitting his chest and torso, his clear compared to my yellow stream. He groaned louder and louder...pumping his hardening cock, and letting the pool around him grow quickly. As my stream died, I rapidly leaned down and grasped his cock, and aimed it at myself, feeling his boiling hot urine move all over me. He moaned in protest, but I continued, rubbing it into my fur, letting it get soaked as well.

I adjusted myself, and pushed him down, letting his stream hit my ass perfectly. His stream was strong for a Cheetah, and when it hit my love button it felt oh so perfect. I then sat on his cock, and it slid into my ass without difficulty. All the butt sex I'd been getting lately, It wasn't much of a problem. I held him still, letting him fill me. Then, with all the power I had, I started to roll us around in the puddle, earning moans and giggles from Sparky. I had denied him sex for so long, and he deserved it. He humped his cock a little bit, as his stream died off. I groaned, and let him, some of the access squirting out. When our bodies had acted enough like sponges, and soaked up the sopping mess, and when his stream had ended I clenched my cheeks, and climbed off of him.

"Hold still and open your mouth."

He did so, panting so hard. I waddled over his mouth, and sat, relaxing and letting his urine drain out of my clean bowels. It filled his mouth to overflowing, and he began the swallowing process, sticking his tongue deep into my rectum tasting the tangy fruits of his labors.

When he'd finished drinking, he laid there, rimming me, his tongue snaking in and out of my bunghole, tasting almost every single inch of skin and membrane his taste buds could reach. That textured tongue of his worked wonders in my ass, and truly turned me on more than a lot of things had recently.

When I was done, I pulled off, his tongue still wagging in the air, to some moaning protests. I went on all fours, and lifted my tail. "Stick it in and fuck it good."

"But I want you to fuck me..." He said softly.

"You said for me to use you and I am. Now FUCK me or the deal's off."

Sparky moaned in protest, but obliged. With a mere ram of his cock, the human like member slipped through my defenses and into my pleasure passage. Immediately, he began humping. The piss which had once made my ass wet, now made it a little sticky and it felt rather good to feel this sticky flesh moving in and out of my unprotected asshole. I wrapped my tail around his waist, and held on.

Sparky's humps were full, and as always Sparky and Jay were very good at getting humps into my ass, Spike (as much as I hate him) did as well. He could pull out all the way to the head, and ram all the way to the hip. There was no sheath to stop him, nor a knot or lousy barbs to bother me. Just a good old fashioned fuck factory ready to produce product for me in my most favorite of places.

As he humped, the wet sticky sound of our flesh slipping past one another made my ass squelch, and his hips slapped my thighs and ass so hard they made some soft and dull thuds that resonated into the floor. Our groans, echoed off the walls thanks to the acoustics of the house. I had worries about Fletcher finding out I was fucking Sparky, but at that point I didn't give a rat's ass. Though having Neil there would have been fun!

I gripped his hips with my legs, and extended them, making my legs aligned, and swung my body around into the missionary. Sparky was amazed at my dexterity, and put my legs onto his shoulders, as he let me have it. His hands gripped my shoulders, stroking the ball joints with his thumbs. I moved my mouth upwards, and demanded a kiss, spitting in his face, much like Alex had taken a shine to doing to me lately.

We kissed, and he fucked, oh so deep and hard, I swore he was going to rupture something. He was longer than I remembered. I then held a hand to his chest, and rolled my legs around his back, squeezing him tight. I was forcing him deeper inside of me, even though he was already balls deep inside of me. He groaned, and winced before I laxed. He swept his fanny back, and my legs pushed him in, dictating the pace and force, much to his delight.

Sparky laid his chest on mine, and tucked his head alongside mine, as I guided his hips. He was rubbing my g-spot just right, the head rubbing past it and stabbing it every so often. Fuck I've been needing a fuck like this in a while. I pumped my powerful kicking legs, and he pumped his powerful racing hips in and out of my body, clasped together in that union of flesh, sweat and piss.

I then turned us over, and rolled him onto his back, and threw my hips and chest backwards, placing my legs behind his head, and crossing them so he could use them as a pillow, before I placed my hands palm down on this piss covered floor. I adjusted my lower body, and began to dictate the pace myself. My cock was rock hard, and out, stabbing at the air as I rose and fell moving as fast as I could, poor Sparky couldn't hold back much longer.

I moved forward to a vertical position, and gripped Sparky's hand, and guided it to my shaft. I surely wouldn't last much longer myself. "Suck it bitch..." I muttered.

Sparky, showing that flexibility of his, leaned forward, and plunged me all the way to the knot, including the knot, into his mouth. He held on tight, and sucked for all that he was worth, as if he was sucking the very air out of a radial. It felt like he could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch, and my knot was that hitch.

I lurched, feeling my overused sex organs boil and erupt in orgasm. It was a faster bout of sex than I'd expected, but it was good. Sparky groaned, and gulped as I felt a searing warmth in my ass that I recognized as his own ejaculation. Sparky screamed, and sunk his teeth into my knot, which I didn't expect, my own claws going into his shoulders and neck, as we held one another there, the sudden pain and pleasure unbearable as it kept my orgasm going...showing no signs of stopping soon. It may not have been as powerful as when I'd fucked Cyric or even Neil and my Dad, but it was the longest orgasm I'd ever had. It was especially big for Sparky too, as I could feel his cum backing into me like the piss had earlier, pumping into my depths with a furious ravish.

We stayed like that for a minute or two, letting our bodies calm and relax. When I felt we could speak, I took a deep breath and looked down at him. "You going to be alright?"

Sparky nodded. "I feel fine Renee, that was just fine."

I smirked and made little circles in his chest fur. "Well I still want you to talk to Jay about all of this."

Sparky closed his eyes and shook his head. "No...he can never know this Renee. I mean, I can tell him I think I'm loosing my attraction to him, but no way in hell I'm telling him about wanting Cyric or my little fuck buddy."

I frowned. "If you love him, then you should tell him."

"Well then, maybe I don't love him Renee."

My frowned grew. "Don't say that."

"Why? It's true. I don't think I really love him anymore. I like him, but I don't think I love him anymore. After the race, I'm going to flat out tell him, it's over and I want a divorce."

"Just promise me it's not going to become drama that gets put on me, cause if I'm just going to get caught in a crossfire between you two then you can both just go on your way."

"No, I'll do my best to spare you from the drama Renee. I just...I just don't think I love him anymore. I mean with the exception of you I don't think adults even do it for me anymore. I mean your dad is nice and all and is a good fuck, but I don't feel it."

"And you feel it with me for some reason?"

"I don't know why but yeah, I still feel something with you. It may just be because I want at your son and that's why I'm so eager to please you, but...then again I could be mistaken."

"As I've said, the only way you're going to have sex with Cyric is if you take a number, and if Cyric says it's okay. I'm not ever going to let anyone force my kid...no one. We're a gay household, we're all promiscuous; so if you're patient I'm sure he'll open up to you - err no pun intended."

Sparky chuckled. "Heh sounds good to me. Say...I have a real bang up idea. Why don't you and the guys take my tour bus and park it on the track. I'll spot the money for the tickets, and ya'll can park there. You and all the guys. Everyone you want to bring Renee, everyone. I want you all there at the California Speedway."

"Sounds fine to me I haven't been to one of your races in a while."

"Excellent, then its all set. In the mean time, I think we should shower."

And we did. We both got up and showered, trying to clean up our sexual mess as best as we could. Despite the fact we didn't care much about the floor, the fact still remained that would be raw piss just sitting around pooled up and smelling nasty after a bit. As much as I love pee, I don't like living in it.

Hours later, Neil showed up and we moved out my possessions. I took one long look at my door, and broke down and cried, unwilling to leave my home as I knew it.

The apartment Neil had got us was on the west side in a nice neighborhood. I didn't do much in the means of helping, other than moving in my personal things, and collapsing onto Neil and falling into bed with him, utterly defeated.

* * *

Race Day

* * *

Jay was in the locker room of the California Speedway, suiting up. Sparky was on his way, the guys and me would be there shortly after that. Sparky had just finished a good shower, and stood in his boxers and T shirt, about to slip on his flame retardant suit when there came a knock at his door.

"The Hell?" He said, dropping the suit and walking to the door. "Whom is it?"

"Stephen Vince. I'm with the Nascar officials, I'm here to check up on you and get some information. May I come in Mr. Deberoux?"

Jay wasn't surprised, officials were always coming in to get personal information: ID, drug tests, weigh-is. Just once he hoped for an official eager just to cop a feel, yet none seemed interested in him; it was always Sparky.

Jay opened the door, and saw a rather healthy looking mink standing before him, wearing dark mirrored sunglasses with a pair of large rabbit's behind him. The rabbit's were wearing Nascar polo shirts and khaki's that looked like all that were holding them on their muscular bodies was their collective wills. The grey polo's were stretched so bad across their torso that the Nascar logo on the breast looked almost like an Andy Warhall original.

The mink himself had on a bright yellow T shirt with the word "Official" across the breast with a number underneath it. On the mink's waist were a cellular phone and a large 2-way radio that the officials normally had. On his head was a Nascar baseball hat, with a long golden blonde head of hair that was pulled back in a tight braid, the kind I like to wear. The shirt was tucked into a pair of tight, ball-hugging black wranglers that were common-place with Nascar; hey it is a southern thing isn't it?

"Mr. Vince?" Jay asked, offering a handshake.

The mink shook his hand, Jay noted that grip was rather firm, more firm that he was used to in an official, but he shook it off. "Yessir. I'm Steve, and these are my associates. They're here to make sure I collect the information securely."

Jay had never come across this before, but with the importance of this race, he knew that security was probably going to be tighter than normal. If Sparky raced well, as he had been, he could secure a top 5 spot for Daytona, and possibly take home the title. He himself had to stop from salivating at the idea of championship gold, he as the Pit Chief of the Nascar Champion, that is still good money and good fame. Auto-repair shops around the nation would beg for his endorsement. "What kind of information will you be needing?"

"Oh just a bit of this and that." Steve said, his accent a bit southern but still having a foreign quality to it. "Papers, and we'd like a urine sample if you would."

Jay didn't see much wrong with this at all. Jicenta was the last tone to argue with a referee. He moved towards a chair and handed Steve a small envelope, containing his papers. The large rabbit to the left, Jay noticed was wearing an obnoxious pair of sunglasses with little checkered flags in the corner; two dollars at the gift shop if he remembered. Jay couldn't think of which was more pathetic: the fact that the guy might have actually paid 2 dollars to wear those cheesy things, or the fact he stole a pair of glasses most wouldn't steal or pay for anyway.

"Urine sample? Alright. Give me a sec please." He said as he adjusted his boxers. Steve handed him the sample cup and pointed to the bathroom.

"Regulations dictate that one of my associates accompany you, and watch you discharge Mr. Deberoux. I'd do it myself however I'm not allowed in case of tampering."

Jay shrugged. "I don't care. Does he get to hold it for me?" Jay said with a hint of sarcasm, moving his otter tail as he swished his hips towards the bathroom.

"Not on your life buddy." The large lapine in shades grumbled.

"Your loss." Jay said as he headed into the small bathing area. The remaining rabbit walked into the restroom, as the mink slipped on a pair of rubber gloves.

"Take your time gentlemen, no need to rush."

After a few moments, there came a slight splashing sound from the bathroom, the sound of urinating in a toilet, and then a pleasant moan from Jay. Jay was so lost in the act of filling the cup and then finishing, he didn't notice the rabbit moving closer behind him, nor the rabbit reaching behind him. Jay didn't even notice till it was far to late, the rabbit bring down the sap across the back of Jay's head, knocking him out cold.

The rabbit quickly came out, with the full sample bottle, holding it with a piece of toilet paper, and sealing the lid. Once this was done, he handed the sample to the mink, whom placed it in a plastic baggie he pulled from his back pocket.

"So why do we need his piss anyway boss?" The Rabbit in the shades asked.

"I told you, you mindless dribbling ape that in order to get down onto that track, I'm going to have to turn this in. They'll think that I'm him, the drug people are new...and not even racing fans. I'll get my pass to get onto the tarmac, and then we'll be able to unfurl our plan you twit!" The mink said, his accent slipping to something almost irish. "Jesus, I don't know why Alex puts up with your ineptitude!"

"Uh...cause we are good at hurting people?" The second rabbit said, stowing the sap in his back pocket once more.

"Listen here Jeckyl, you and Heckyl are my property just as much as much as you belong to Alex. If I tell you to throw yourselves in front of a car to save my life you damn well had better be tasting windshield. Now this is so simple, it really should suit your abilities. I'll explain the plan again. We dress as officials, then we meet asswhipe here, and collect his piss and take it to the real racing officials. Me, I'm going to go down there, with you two, and say that Jay couldn't make it to his racing crew, and I am his replacement and you two are extra hands. Now...in a minute here, we're going to meet up with Jack, and tell him that on lap 232, he's to drive him hard into the wall. We'll signal Sparky in before that lap, and loosen his wheels so when he does hit that wall...I'll have my blood."

"And he'll die right?"

The mink slapped the rabbit on the back of his head. "No you moron he's going to get up after that and do a merry little jig. Of course he'll be dead you dumbass! The racers know how they're NOT supposed to hit one another, as it can cause a rather large accident. Jack is going to do this on purpose...see? Are you with me now? Or do I have to draw you a diagram."

"No that's fine Spike...but what if Jicenta here wakes up before lap 232, that's almost halfway into the race, that's hours from now."

"That's why you to lugs are going to weld that door shut when no one is looking, by the time that anyone notices, it'll be too late. Now...get to work."

With that Spike walked out the door, leaving the large rabbits to their work, hurrying off towards the officials.

After meeting with them, and suiting up in Jay's clothes, he headed towards the other end of the locker rooms. He had to hurry if he was going to do this right.

About midway to his goal, Spike bumped literally into a raccoon in a near rainbow racing suit. As the pair collided Spike accidentally knocked the man's drink out of his hand, spilling it over the nice clean racing suit, staining it almost instantly. The thin racer stepped back, suddenly detested. "Hey! How could you do that?! Watch where you're going!"

Spike narrowed his eyes and looked the coon in his eyes. "I was, you just got in my way."

The man brushed off the suit, the bright yellow 24 on his suit now stained an off brownish color thanks to the coffee being spilled on it. "Hey buddy, you owe me for a new suit I'll tell you what. You tell Sparky that after this race is done he's fronting the bill, I sure as hell aint gonna race in this. Just cause you're a minority makes you think you can strut around here like you own the place? I'm Jeff Gordon asshole...I'm the Michael Jordan of Nascar...nobody insults me and gets away with it."

Spike thrust out his hand around his throat, catching the arrogant racer off guard. He backed the man into his own locker room, closing the door behind them. Jeff pounded his fists against the elbow joint of Spike to no avail. "A few things we need to clear up. First, I'm not with the racing team, I'm here on business. Two, I can strut around this place because I am whom I am, and you'll find out who that is soon enough. Third, Michael Jordan wasn't the best basketball player ever, Wilt Chamberlain was....just like Richard Petty will always be better than you at racing. Now you little worm, I want you to know, I'm going to kill you...and there's nothing you or anyone is going to do about it."

"Kill me?! You're joking! It was just coffee sorry I overreacted!"

"Too late for that."

With an aggressive snap of his wrist, the life of Nascar "legend" Jeff Gordon ended in an instant, his neck broken with a mere jerk of his wrist. Spike closed his eyes, and felt the near orgasmic bliss he felt when he normally killed. He dropped the body, and adjusted his collar. "Going to need a double for you so no one gets suspicious...fortunately there are plenty of coons I can call. Now...to find Jack Baldwin...and to call Alex...I don't know if he's going to like this."

* * *

Alex detested Nascar and everything about it. The only reason he was going to be coming to this event was to witness his plan unfurl. Otherwise he wouldn't be caught dead within a mile of a racing event. He couldn't understand what would possess an intelligent mind would be willing to subjugate themselves to 3 plus hours of cars driving in circles. The thought occurred to Alex that residents of California should have been accustomed to seeing cars driving around in circles with their famous cloverleaf highways, and traffic bogged streets. No, this event was for something worse than Los Angelinos; it was for yokels.

Alex thought of them as roaches: Fat, beer swilling, foul mouthed, undisciplined and unmannered people that get excited at the mere sight of a car passing them by at 200 plus miles-per-hour. The same kind of beings, like roaches that would be around long after he was gone, and probably be around after the end of the world along with Dolly Parton's tit's, Joan Rivers, and Dick Clark.

"Your box Mr. Fletcher. I daresay you're rather lucky, the previous owner of this box was said to have won his fortune betting on Richard Petty a few decades ago right here on this couch." Droned an elderly Scotty Dog. Alex, using a cane, limped into the suite, and staggered his way over to his couch which gave him a decent view of the track. Plasma screen TV's were hung around the couch so the occupant's could watch the race from several different angles. It would do.

"Thank you Clarence, you're assistance henceforward will not be necessary, but only for the most minimum. If you would please see to it that I'm not disturbed, you'd find it most beneficial. I'm in a rather cranky mood, my knee has been acting up lately."

"Knee huh? It could be stress. You know, when I was your age-" The old man began before Alex held up a hand.

"Look I'm sure this is going to turn into a charming story of perseverance in the face of hardship that is supposed to inspire me into learning some sort of life lesson and making a difference about my disabling condition; but for your sake please spare me old man. I thank you for your escort and for seeing that I made it here alright, but I really don't need any sage advice from anyone at this moment. I'll take my leave of you at this time, and see my assistant Mr. Grizzard whom will be bringing me my refreshments for your tip."

The old man swallowed, and shifted in place. "You know, I was once held captive by a Nazi general. You talk a heck of a lot like him. You sure you ain't some kind of nazi?"

Alex gripped the soft leather couch with a firm hand and glared at the old Scotty with a piercing gaze. "For the last time you shell-shocked old man, I am growing less patient by the moment. Unless you want me to goosestep over to you and stomp a hole in your frail and ancient chest cavity, I suggest you get out of my sight! Do it now and there just may still be a tip in your future, rather than a trip to L.A. County Morgue and passage on a one way trip back to your war buddies!" Alex snapped.

The Scotty's lip quivered, and he hurriedly left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Alex wanted to lock the door, but surely Fabian would be lumbering his way up the stairs to the skybox with his arms full of hot dogs, soda, pop-corn and candy...surely helpless to open the door. It would be comical until his wailing would grow wearisome.

Alex reached into his briefcase he'd brought with him, and opened it. He'd packed a pair of binoculars, and a bottle of 20 year old scotch that he'd been saving for a special occasion. It was a present from his father years ago on their anniversary. Speaking of which, he should be calling him sometime soon and wish him well. He checked his watch, and saw it wasn't too terribly late in Boston, and decided to give his father a call after all. Now was as good a time as any, with the race at least an hour away with final preparations and all that.

Alex dug out his cellular phone, and dialed the speed dial for his father's line. Thankfully there was an answer after the third ring, a young feminine yet distinctly male voice answered. "Hello Mr. Ben Fletcher's office, assistant Dean LeFlur answering?"

Alex smiled a smile of relief. He remembered Dean. Dean was one of the few remaining members of his class that'd decided to come work for him and his father. Dean dared to be different at the time, being openly gay in an inter-city new-york high school during the time of stonewall was not smartest of things. With as much hatred as Alex carried for Renee and his cronies, he could respect what Dean did. Dean had done hard time for merely liking a little hotdog with his buns, back in a time when you could be arrested just for acting feminine, let alone cross dressing or any of that jazz.

"Dean, this is your old friend Alex? Remember? From College?"

There came a pleased gasp, and then a sigh of satisfied relief. "Oh how could I forget. I'd still be struggling with my life if it wasn't for your dad giving me a chance and sending me to college with you. Those were some of the best years of my life."

Alex closed his eyes, his anger easing a little bit, despite the pain in his leg. "Some of the best years of mine as well. Remember when we burned down one of the sorority houses as part of the Women's Suppression Regime? That was some time now wasn't it?"

"It sure was Alex. I remember those girls faces when they came back from cheerleading our own track meet to find that your lummox football cronies had burned their place to the ground. Those were some fun times. Sure I was out and you weren't totally out to everyone...but least you took care of me."

Alex shrugged, as if Dean could see it. "Dean...Dean...Dean. If there's one lesson in life it's that there are far less things in life its that there are far worse things you can be than gay. You could have been born a woman, or wanted to be one...that's just pathetic and wrong."

Dean shuddered. "I'm feminine, but not a fem...that's for sure."

"So tell me, what position does dad have you working now?"

Dean snickered. "Any my body can take to be honest. You know me. Without you boys here, and with your mother handling overseas deals, your father has been quite needy of me as of late."

"Ah good old dad. You've been his pet and pet employee for damn near 15 years at least. I'm enthused to see that you've stuck with us and that father has never faltered in his good taste."

"Oh you stop that, you're going to make me blush."

Alex sighed. It was not unlike two girlfriends that hadn't spoken in a while going over old times. "Speaking of that, where are you?"

Dean chuckled. "Lying on top of your father. We were taking a stress break when you called, and that break ran a little long, so we were both napping in his office bed. Shall I wake him?"

"Yeah just give him a nudge would ya?"

There came a guttural grunt through the phone, and Alex could hear the sounds of someone waking up. Alex heard Dean say his name, and then came a deep breath on the phone.

"Alex? Is that you?"

"Yeah Ben it's me."

"Ah so great to hear from you. I thought you'd be calling me sooner after I sent you your anniversary present for this year."

Alex blinked, and scrambled for a thought. "Uh, I don't recall receiving a present."

"Didn't Ms. Gloria come by and see you?"

Alex gripped the couch again, suddenly remembering the horrid little bitch. "Yeah, the little cunt came by my office. She said that the board was calling for my removal and for me to come back home."

Ben laughed on the other end. "Oh come on...that's what she thought. You think the board would really vote to send you back home? She called for your removal and she was told that's what happened by me. I sent her to you as a gift."

"You mean...you set her up?"

"Course I did. I was getting tired of her womanly aura ruining our Boston offices. I can't stand how she was attempting to run the whole show, so I had to take care of that. I figured you'd get a better use out of her than I would. You know I prefer the married women for myself."

Alex had a cheerful childhood memory on walking in on his father murdering a woman in his office, and depositing her wedding ring into a bowl of wedding rings which later turned into a jar, and later a safe full. There were enough gold and diamonds from those stolen rings to finance at least a hundred all-expensive trips around the world. "I know you do, but gosh, the thought never occurred to me that she was from you. I would have guessed if she would have said something about you sending her."

"But Alex, where would the fun be if you knew she was a gift wrapped trophy? Didn't I teach you that half the fun of the kill is in the lure and the hunt of the cunt. You can't just have them lay in your jaws and ask you to bite down, that wouldn't be as fun. No, exposing them for the weak and pathetic subgender they are is what needs to be done. Except for your mother, you know what needs to be done."

Alex nodded, as if his father could see it. He had a bad habit of doing that when talking to friends and family. "I'm well ahead of you on that dad. She's already been processed and is in the trophy room as we speek."

"Good. Oh and speaking of your mother, have you thought about what's to be done with...the matter at hand?"

Alex sighed, this was an issue he didn't much like addressing. He could tell that Ben was being clandestine because of Dean's proximity. "I think about it often, as much as I wouldn't like to father. Tell me, how is he?"

"He's...he's growing up really well. So far he doesn't seem to be acting like cookie at all...no defects at all accept for what you already know."

"Still blind as a bat?"

"I really wish you wouldn't say that about my grandchild."

"It upsets me too father. I mean, the program you came up with was supposed to be the pinnicle of inbreeding, at it's best. Defective traits aren't supposed to show up until generations down the line. How come I didn't show any signs but cookie and Dusty do?"

There came a grunt and a groan and Ben sighing on the other end. "Better go shower Dean before we get any more business in this office....that's a good lad." After a moment or two of silence, Ben spoke again. "Honestly Alex I don't know why. It's possible all of you had defects, and that the program was flawed from the start. I know that's not what you wanted to hear, but it could have happened. Or, fate could have just slapped the two of us bad hands with these last two births of your mothers."

"Could it be that she's consumed alcohol during both Cookie's and Dusty's terms?"

"Alex we've been over this...if she drank, I certainly don't know about it. Now...the offer stands firm that we can try this again..."

"Dad, I'm over 40 years old. I'm not as spry as I was 10 years ago and I shouldn't be making any more babies than I already have at this point. Like it or lump it, Dusty is going to be the heir to the Fletcher business after I retire. Now aside from being blind...he isn't dumb like cookie is he?"

Ben grumbled. "Alex, don't talk about your brother that way. I know you love him just as much as I do."

"He gets on my nerves Dad. He's the last thing I need here right now. If I could I'd have him sent to Switzerland or the damn Foreign Legion or something to get him out of my hair. It's because I love him and care for him so that I can't be with him as much as I have been lately. Every time I turn around I am worried he's going to try to put his dick in a blender or something."

Ben laughed. "Come now Alex. Every Fletcher boy, including your Dusty, knows that the cock is the most important organ on the body, and without it he may as well be a woman, and therefore meat for the slaughter. I can safely bet you a quarter of a million dollars that Cookie won't do anything to his dick."

"I'll take that bet Dad. He's been hanging out with that fox and his friends lately. Those lousy bottom feeders are likely to corrupt him more than his fragile mind can handle."

"Well, just so long as you understand that Fox is a necessary evil Alex. He is popular with the gay community on the west coast as well as here on the east. They think of him as a new icon, something people can strive to be...for some inexplicable reason."

"You can't be serious that that limp-wristed nancy-boy is some kind of pop icon."

"Hey I'm just telling you like it is. Here in Massachusetts everyone is singing his praises. It's like when they voted in gay marriage here; people want to know all about him. Break him but do not destroy the man. People are going to want to see him act again."

"But father...I had plans of ruining his acting career. I already destroyed his pornographic career by buying out his studio and having his director and stage partner taken care of."

"So I read. Son, listen to me. As humiliating as it is for him to perform sex with you...on camera...to be distributed for your own profit; what are you really accomplishing? It's not going to make you as much money as if you'd merely bought the studios and kept things the same."

"Father, that's where you and I differ. I'm not just after the money. I'm wanting him to realize he drove my brother to his ultimate end. If it wasn't for Renee, then Asher and little bro might have hooked up - but Mr. Cupid has to go and set him up with the gangbanger."

"Didn't you email me that you were dating a man who roams with gangs?"

Alex whipped his brow. "This is so different. He's a wolf! What are wolves good for besides straining our welfare system, raising street crime rates, playing sports, and having the month of February dedicated to they're history? They're not good for much I'll tell you that. At least Spike is well mannered and has class."

"Which reminds me son. I want you to present Spike to the board, if you're going to make him your partner and all." Ben said with a satisfied groan. "I want to meet this man for myself, and see whom my son plans on spending the rest of his life with."

"Sure pop, it'll be done as soon as I'm finished up here. I am going to tear down the old apartment building and start on the new corporate tower within the week. I know the building's been in the family for a while, but it's old hat. Now we can have a great and new headquarters for our business - especially with the fox's endorsement."

"Well son, it's been lovely talking to you, but I think I'm going to take another power meeting with Dean here...he's wearing that one outfit that drives me wild."

"The leather straps and thong?" Alex asked, actually not sure which of the millions of outfits Dean wears would be his favorite.

"Close, the little boy briefs and tight schoolboy uniform. Mmmmmm"

"Dad, he's got to be 40 years old! That kink still turns you on?"

"Well when Dean and Dusty fit into the same size clothes...you bet it turns me on."

I think even I would have laughed at the absurdity of that statement, as well as the sincerity. Alex did laugh, and it was a laugh that made him feel easier about what he was about to do. Talking to his father made him feel good before a business deal, or even a calculated murder: Benjamin Fletcher just had that uplifting charm about him. "Alright pops, give Dean a good one for me. God damn you're still insatiable aren't you? You're going on 60 dad."

"Hey, I've had a healthy sex life since I was 7 years old. I don't think I'm gonna quit yet. Now have fun son, and I want to see you here within the week, you here me?"

"Yes sir." Alex said with truth.

"Good...cause here he comes..."

And the phone line clicked. Alex could only imagine the frail and womanly Dean, the most feminine of rabbits he'd ever been with next to his brother, crawling across his father's bed looking like a 12 year old boy. The thought reminded Alex he was wearing a tighter pair of briefs than he thought he'd slipped on, and required an adjustment.

Almost as soon as he'd fished his cock into a more comfortable position, Alex's special ringer for Spike went off on his cellular phone: Another one Bites the Dust. Alex picked up the phone, and answered.

"Hey babe, what's going on?"

"Alex...I...I went against my own plan...I couldn't resist the urge...I killed someone."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I swear, you break into a cold sweat if you go minutes without killing someone."

"I know! It's true...I start to feel invalidated unless I kill something at least once an hour..."

"Oh behave. You know if that were true you'd be killing 24 people a day, and there'd be a lot more eyebrows raised."

"Well still...Alex I don't know if I can handle this. If I just killed someone for mouthing off to me, I may blow the entire thing if I'm not careful."

Alex gripped the chair tight again, feeling anger rising again. "Look you claim to be the brains of the two of us, as well as the brawn. Me I'm just the face. Now, you know as well as I do that Renee's buddies are splitting up, and after that, ruining them is going to become increasingly difficult. I'm sure glad you got that tape of Renee disobeying me and having intercourse with Sparky, it fits in perfect timing with my plan. I was merely going to sabotage his race, but now he's going to pay the price. Now...what did you do?"

"Well, I killed Jeff Gordon..."

Alex blinked. "You killed Jeff Gordon? Just because he mouthed off to you?"

"Yeah...but that's not the half of it, about 2 minutes after I killed Gordon I was hiding the body in the room when Dale Earnheart Jr. walked in. I killed him too. Got his blood all over the gloves."

Alex sighed, and then...as if someone had just pissed in his face, opened his eyes wide with a sudden idea. "Spike, you're a genius!"

"I know I am, but what did I do now?"

"Spike this is perfect. Hide the bodies inside Jack's room when no one is looking. Make sure you leave the gloves in his bag. After he runs Sparky into the wall today, and he meets his ultimate end, everyone will suspect him of foul play because of his hatred of Sparky which everyone knows about. Then when he goes to his room and they find the bodies there, and that he hired the imposter drivers...he'll take the fall for all of this."

There was silence on the other end of the line, then an erotic moan. "Alex baby...I could shove my dick so far up your ass you'd have my PA dancing on your tongue. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph you're wonderful."

"I come up with some brilliant ideas from time to time. I am a successful businessman after all."

"Good. Well I'll get the blunder twins to move the bodies while I go and get on the tarmac. Jicenta is stuck inside his room and probably will be good to be stuck there for a good while."

"Excellent. So we're waiting for lap 232 of course?"

"Yes. I doubt Renee will catch on to the idea of your hand being in this exercise unless there's some poetic meaning to the lap that this is on."

"Well just make sure that Jack does his job. He can hang back as long as he wants, but he's got to get right beside Sparky no matter what. He's got to be able to drive him into the wall, otherwise it's not worth a shit and we'll have to scrub the whole thing."

"I am aware of this. Jack Baldwin is an accomplished racer. If he can't accomplish this, then he certainly doesn't have any business being on the track."

"Alright. Just get it done. I'm here in the skybox, I'll be watching you."

Alex heard a chuckle on his end of the phone. "And my men can see you."

"It never fails to creep me out when you say that."

The line clicked, as Alex leaned his head back, staring down at the track before him. He spat, hitting nothing but floor, but the symbolism wasn't lost on him. "Sparky Deberoux, you have angered me for the last time, and now...it's time for you to pay..."

* * *

Moments later

* * *

Things were hectic as always the day of the race. Jonas Ecklewood hated taking charge of duties when it came to getting things set up, but unless Jay came by soon, he was going to have to. Joanus was a young brown colt whom had been the junior pit chief alongside Jay for years now. He was definitely one of the country's best engine repairmen, and could tell you what was wrong with your vehicle just by the sound, and nothing more. But all that talent aside, when it came to politics, timesheets, and schedules, he was a mess.

"Come on guys, we have to have this car ready for Sparky in less than 30 minutes. And you know how Jay likes things, I want all of your equipment in tip-top shape." He said aloud. Unlike Jay, he lacked a real presence, and he may as well have been talking to himself. The crew wasn't much more motivated than they'd been before. They only seemed to act on instinct because of how many times they'd done the routine of setting up and taking down, otherwise it was a veritable cluster fuck about to happen.

"I should have worked at Tripple-A." Jonas muttered, turning around, and sitting down on a toolbox. He was wearing one of the old P flag uniforms, white with about a million sponsor patches about it, with pink trim. Everyone else was wearing the rainbow flag colored uniforms. Jonas had accidentally packed the wrong bag that morning, and was kicking himself for it.

Jonas placed his hands over his face, and shrugged his shoulders. He really wasn't cut out for this job.

"Jonas?" Someone asked from behind.

Much like a soldier, he snapped to attention and turned around, his long mane slapping himself in the face. "Err...right here!"

Standing before Jonas was someone he'd never seen before. A mink, dressed in Jacinta's crew chief uniform. The mink was implacable in his appearance, aside from a few scars on his face, and eyes that reminded him of his former Drill instructor from Navy reserve, the mink was almost nondescript. He could have been any other attractive mink, accept his poise and dress was so perfect. Perhaps now was a good time to reassess the whole sexual preference issue.

"Good. Jay has run into a rather bad spot. Personal emergency and will not be able to fulfill his duties. I am Wade St. Judas at your service, I'm going to take over the position of crew chief."

Jonas let out a huge sigh of relief. "Oh thank god. I don't think I could handle the pressure of whipping these men into shape. We still have to get this car set up properly and up to proper running capacity. Sparky is going to be here in a few minutes and we have to get him in and all that."

The mink smiled, a smile that Jonas was almost nervous of. "Don't worry about me, I'm going to make sure you're all whipped into shape, mark my words. A pair of my associates are going to be coming in to aid as wheelmen if you don't mind."

Jonas looked over to his wheelmen, and shrugged. "I bet they'd like some relief after a while, so long as they know what they're doing."

"I can vouch for their credentials. Don't you worry, Sparky is going to be taken care of. Now, I'm going to inspect this car..."

Jonas pointed to the rainbow colored racer, blazed with the number 13. The paint and everything inside was brand new. As Spike moved over towards it, he couldn't help but think of how valuable everything on this car could be. All top-of-the-line auto parts, oil, gasoline...everything. He could appreciate the fact that he was about to render death upon Sparky, but at the same time could mourn the loss of so much money's worth of equipment.

Sparky came down the pit area, drinking a sports drink, as Spike lowered his head into the vehicle, ducking down so that the Cheetah didn't catch him there. Spike slipped a hand into his breast pocket, and pulled out a small exacto knife. With a quick precision he made a few quick, razor thin slits to Sparky's harness; too thin to notice up close, but good enough to do the job then it counted. He slipped the blade back into his pocket, as soon as he felt it was safe, and pulled his face from the car, pulling the hat down over his muzzle to hide his eyes.

"Hey, I don't know you, who are you?" Sparky asked, walking over to Spike's side.

"Wade St. Judas, Jay sent me as a replacement, he had to run; family emergency."

Sparky raised his eyebrows. "Funny, he didn't call me. He'd have called me and told me something was up, especially on a race day."

"I think he said his cell phone battery was not working properly when we spoke. In either case he was in a rather big rush, I believe his brother's are at death's door."

Sparky rubbed his chin, and then stared down at the hood of the car. "Well so he sent you as a crew chief? How long have you been working crews?"

"Ten years sir. I worked with the Andretti crew for 3, and had been a junior chief for Dale before he passed away."

Sparky rubbed his temples, and pulled a pink bandana out from his pocket and started to tye it in his hair. "Well, wherever Jay is...I still find it funny he didn't come find me to tell me about it. If this has something to do with...no...nevermind. I'm not in the mood to play games. Not this close to green light."

"Sounds like a good plan sir. I look forward to ending this discomfort of yours."

Sparky shrugged. "Oh I wouldn't call it that, it's just I'm finding this all a little conveniently timed. Jay and I are having some personal issues I guess."

"Oh? Would it have anything to do with someone else in your life?"

Sparky leaned on the hood of his car. "Well kind of. I'm dealing with a lot of demons as you know. Me I've fallen head over heals for a really nice demon, which is my Jay. But now I see this stunning little devil and his father, and I just can't help but give into temptation. I don't know if I'm even attracted to my Jay anymore, and then he goes all huffy on me today? He must know..." Sparky shook his head. "So help me if he told him...I'll kick his ass."

"Told who what?" Spike said, lifting his gaze a little bit.

"Oh nothing. I told my roommate a secret and I'm paranoid about it. I'm afraid Jay might want to leave me over it."

Spike smiled a grin, that made Sparky a little nervous. "I can probably bet your roommate is no better at keeping secrets as well as keeping his business deals. He's going to make you suffer and it's probably best you just put him out of your mind while you race today."

"But you don't know my roommate. He can be the sweetest guy in the world at times. He's caring, tender, and thoughtful...great in bed."

"I know...roommates can be like that." Spike said, having to catch himself. "But he's just a roommate. It's not like he was...anything special was he? I mean think about it. All he is is a means to an end, and that end being a roof over your head when you wanted to lay low. You were cleared of the whole sex scandal despite no one believing you and yet you still hid away even after you stared winning. You're on a winning streak, you don't need your blanket to hide under anymore."

Sparky shook his head, "But he's been there a lot, and he's had his own rough things to go through...I kind of owe him."

"Owe him what? What could you possibly owe a man whom yourself is leading you into temptation and coming between you and your marriage?"

"A lot...as hard as it is to believe, a lot. Now I think I should get this car on the track, and you should get this crew in shape."

Spike nodded, and turned to his crew. "Alright gents, you heard the man, lets get this show on the road."

* * *

The bus that Sparky and Jay had purchased was nothing short of extraordinary. It looked nothing like a bus really with the exception of the driver's seat and steering column. Otherwise it looked like a quaint little apartment. Inside, in the refrigerator were enough refreshments and food to keep the group of us fed for the whole race. There was a cooler that I had stocked with everyone's favorite drinks, and my favorite alcohols. Sparky was right about coming, even if the grandstands were filled with bigots, I was sure that we were going to enjoy ourselves.

I myself was grilling hot dogs and hamburgers on a grill Khris had loaned me for the event. The smell of charcoal cooked meat was inticing, as were the hands on my ass.

"Hey I'm going to burn these things if you keep that up." I warned whomever was touching me.

"Oh really now?" Rowdy said giving me a firm slap on my bare ass. No I wasn't naked, but I was cross dressing alright. I was wearing a long Hawaiian shirt, and a matching thong bikini. Rowdy was wearing a fishnet tank top with his blackball team logo somewhat visible on it, with some meager short shorts. Khris and Micah whom were already parked on top of the bus in their comfy little lounge chairs were both wearing speedos and were sunning in the desert heat. Lt. Mitchell and Chong were inside the bus, playing bartenders as they mixed up specialty drinks. Mitchell was wearing spandex shorts with the LAPD logo on the left thigh, and nothing more. Chong was dressed in an outfit similar to mine, a Hawaiian shirt with khaki shorts. Dad was napping in one of the luxurious lounge chairs in a pair of white sport shorts, with Cyric also napping in his lap, wearing a flowery little speedo that Micah had given him.

"So how do you like your meat?" I turned towards the athletic wolf.

"Up the ass really." He joked leaning up against the side of our bus, wagging his rear in my direction.

I stabbed a hot dog with the barbeque fork and moved it teasingly towards his scant denim shorts, making him nearly leap up onto the roof in surprise. "I meant literally not sexually you nut." I laughed, actually kind of glad for the haircut. The heat from the grill and the sun would have had me sweating. Having a shaved head just made me look kind of like a bony lesbian more than a feminine man...I wasn't sure what was the better deal there.

If you were wondering what kind of stares I got, you can bet the neighboring RV's and trucks had given me a scrupulous once-over and had since done their best to not look my direction. I wasn't embarrassed, I was just in one of those rare femmy festive moods of mine, where I felt a lot like I imagined Tanya felt before the change: you just want to dress and act like a woman.

Aside from my burlesque show I was doing, or rocky horror tribute - however you want to call it - our troop definitely stood out in a crowd. How could you miss the rainbow bus with the enormous 8 foot long and 5 foot tall rainbow flag flying from the back of it? Laying low was not our strong point, kind of like the man wearing a neon pink set of camouflage in an artic raid.

"Just hurry up with the meat. Say, where's Neil?"

"Neil's just checking up with the office about our display of the flag and stuff. Some people complained about it."

"What, if they get on our case just cause we're gay..."

I chuckled. "Spare me the theatrics Rowdy. As much as I'd like to believe their complaint is rooted with intolerance, I think it's more that our flag may block some of their views."

Rowdy shrugged. "Yo, it's not like there's not miles more track for them to stare at. Besides, aside from a blur of color, what else are they going to see with these cars going 200 miles an hour?"

"I dunno...perhaps they think they can catch Sterling Marlin flipping the bird on lap 390?"

Rowdy shook his head and climbed the ladder that was leaning against the side of the bus to claim his own lawn chair. Chong opened the door to the bus, and was dancing to some saucy salsa music, and singing along in Spanish, as he handed me a drink.

"Please tell me this isn't a margarita." I said, examining the glass.

"Nah...it's just a little something I whipped up for you."

I sipped it. It had a very strong lemon-lime flavor, followed by the strong whip crack of something similar to vodka. "Woah...that's like a killer sprite...or 7-up gone to the wolves."

"I resent that!" Called out Rowdy from the roof.

"Hey don't worry Ne-Ne, it's just a little somfen-somefen I whipped up. Don't drink too many of those, wouldn't want you drunk now."

"I doubt I will. Not when I'm in charge of the meat. If you're headed back inside, tell Mitchell that I'd like to use some of that Tabasco sauce and the barbeque sauce. I don't know what possible redeeming value barbeque sauce has in a drink, but hey I'm not the bartender."

"Yeah. Can you believe I actually worked as a bartender once? A lot of stuff has been coming back to me since I got off the drugs Renee. I mean...a lot. I was such a jerk to you, and I'm sorry about all that."

I patted his shoulder, and set down the spatula and fork, and smiled. I'd got a few new rings in my right ear, 10 in all and was wearing the leather pride colors: Black, blue, black, blue, red, white, blue, black, blue, black. I felt his eyes staring at the new earings, but wasn't bothered by it. "Chong, if I really gave a damn, I would have tossed your ass out years ago, you're one of my longest friends, and you're turning out to be an awesome example for my nephiew - no not as what not to be in life, but as what you can become when you turn your life around."

Chong smiled. "The kid and your pop are still asleep. The race is going to start soon."

"I know. I was going to let them sleep it off till the race started. If I don't wake them up the sounds of all those engines roaring should wake up anybody. How much longer are you going to be mixing drinks?"

"Just a few more. I have Rowdy's Fuzzy Navel, your Sprite Surprise, Neil and Micah's long Island Iced Teas, and I think I made a White Russian for your dad when he wakes up."

"Good, don't be afraid to give Cyric a little alcohol. Make him a daiquiri or something."

"You got it, but say isn't that illegal? Giving a minor booze?"

"My dad is an FBI agent, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind giving Cyric a little snifter."

"Okay and Neil?"

"Neil's being the driver today, so none for him."

"You got it." He said as he swished his hips back inside. It was uplifting to see Chong in such good spirits. Ever since he won the Rave-Down he'd been on the biggest emotional high I'd ever seen him on without the need for narcotics.

The door opened again, and the strapping and very gorgeous Lt. Mitchell stepped out. He looked good enough to eat standing there nearly naked, with nothing but a thin layer of spandex between me and...oh darn now I'd have to adjust.

Mitchell came up, placing a hand on the small of my back, and edging in for a kiss. We met lips, and had a little and chaste 10 second Frencher. I moaned loudly into his mouth, but my obvious elation/begging didn't get me much more than a friendly touch and kiss.

"How's it going with all this?" He asked, looking at the meat, handing me the sauces with his free hand.

"I'm defiantly going to have a hard time after that."

"So I can see." He said, giving me a teasing grope. Gods I nearly came right then. Mitchell was one of the most drop dead sexy Dobermans you could ever meet. It'd been a long time since I'd had the honor of playing with him...humph. "Here's the sauces."

"Thanks. The dogs and burgers should be done soon. The sausages are going to be particularly good I think. I had some of the beef patty's drip down on top of them for added flavor."

"Cool, lets here it for cross-contamination!" he said, raising a hand for a high-five. I gave it to him and pumped a fist, grunting a "yes". "Nah it should be fine.

The sun caught the corner of his badge he wore around his neck, and hit me in the face. "Gah, do you have to wear that thing right now? You're off duty."

"Well you're the one parading around in a bikini Renee. Might help incase someone decides to call the cops."

I nodded. "True. I just love this top though, it feels so nice on my chest."

Mitchell cleared his throat. "I'll have to take your word for it Ne-Ne."

There were a few moments of silence, as he rubbed my back gently. It felt really good, and was just what I needed right then. "Thanks for the rub." I said flipping the burgers again, sprinkling on some more spices and dabbing on a bit more sauce.

"Don't mention it. I should be thanking you, but I can't thank you enough for everything you've done with Chong and I."

"He has certainly been much happier since you two hooked up. Tell me, what's it like, dating him?"

Mitchell shifted in place, letting his toes curl in his sandals, and he stared at the sun for a moment, before looking at me. "If I said like heaven on earth would that be good enough for you?"

I narrowed an eye. "Considering how heaven is my hell in m opinion, I wouldn't be able to appreciate the analogy...but I think I get what you mean. But by all means Kurt be more specific."

Mitchell pulled over the little lounge chair I had propped up, and sat in it. I'd been using it so I could take breaks until the meat was done. Then it'd be self service and self cooking from then on. "He's very festive. He always is on the move, and it's never dull. We go to clubs 3 or 4 times a week, and go to movies and dinner on the other days. And of course we never see the same movies or even go to the same restaurants. He even does little charming things that I never knew it was in him to do."

"Like? I don't mean to pry just indulge me a little here; I've lived and slept with this man for a long time and this is like a whole other person you're describing."

"No problem at all Renee." He said, spreading his legs a little bit, and then looked right into my eyes. "He sings to me."

"Sings to you? He's never sang once that I can remember."

"Well he sings to me. Spanish love songs. I'll come home and he'll be all dressed up, and he'll be looking like a million pesos...and he'll dip me and start singing those love songs of his. And like I said, he can sometimes spring it on me when I'm not expecting it."

"Really now..." I sighed, almost jealous. "That must be something."

"You're telling me. I mean it's like a free ticket into my pants, no matter how bad a day I've had. I could have shot someone in the head and he could just sing a verse or two like he was doing earlier...and I'm hooked all over again."

I chuckled, not out of amusement but more out of amazement. "Sounds like you're falling in love all over again."

"Renee you're the fucking cupid around here, weather you think so or not. I mean, look around you. Everywhere you look, people are hooking up: Asher and Rowdy, me and Chong, Geoff and Trevor, and possibly even Cookie and Chance. You're a miracle worker."

"Let's not forget I'm also responsible for the meeting of Spike and Alex while you're keeping score."

"Well that's something different, but who gives a shit about them anyway."

"Yeah...now what else does he do?"

"Oh sometimes he'll meet me at the door in the most sexy underwear you've seen...other times he'll have a rose sent to my office. You know the last couple of days he's been following my squad car around and leaving roses in my wipers. It's fucking unbelievable. He's so romantic! Among the subtler things he does he'll spell out "I love you" in sauces when we're making dinner, or even make little hearts with the French fries when we go to burger joints. Hell, I'm sure he's doing something special for me right this second."

I loved this talk. I'd never thought I'd once be having a girl-talk about Chong before. I left the meat and straddled Kurt's lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. Out of politeness and friendship he placed his hands around my waist and held me. "So, just between you and me, how is he."

"At what?"

"Oh you know what I'm talking about."

"He means 'is he a good fuck'!" Called out Micah playfully from the roof.

Mitchell shrank a little bit, and gulped before nodding. "With no offence to the man in my lap, the best sex I've ever had."

All of us groaned. "Oh of course you'd say that. But really, how good is he?" Khris asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bus and looking down. Wow he had a big package from this angle.

"Well, he's a real good bottom. He says he loves to top others, but he is a really great bottom for me. He's great at oral, and 69'ing with him is pure delight. I even don't mind bottoming for him every so often. It's just what I like. Good sex, without too much hassle."

It was as good as an answer as we could expect from him and still respect his privacy. Khris had other ideas. "So you guys do anything...extra?"

"Nothing that I'm going to say out loud."

"Oh come off it man, we've all shared body fluids with one another at one point. Least you can do is at least share some buggering stories."

"Sorry Khris, but the things that we do are not a matter of public record." He said folding his arms and firmly nodding his head.

"Don't make me pee on you."

"Don't make me cite you."

"Alright boys...lets settle this." I said as I started to put the dogs and sausages onto a plate. "Khris you behave and stop pestering Mitchell, and Kurt you share at least some kind of a clue and let our perverted imaginations take care of the rest."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Mitchell said, standing up and helping me out. "Alright if you must know...we do like leather."

There was almost a deafening silence among those of us that were paying attention. "That's it? Leather?" Micah said as if he couldn't believe his obscenely large ears.

"Yes...that's really all we do. Dress up in leathers time and time again." He said, starting to bun the dogs, looking up at the guys whom had followed Khris' example of haphazard sitting on the edge.

"Come on, you guys at least have to do cops and robbers...I mean you are a cop. You don't even do role-reversals or anything like that? Bondage? BDSM?" Rowdy asked, scratching at his corn-rows.

Mitchell then said something that made probably more sense than anything I'd heard in a long time. "Doing cop sex is redundant to me. I mean Rowdy, that's like saying I expect to hear about you having some sort of blackball fetish with Asher, or about you two dressing up in wrestling gear and tussling around in a ring. I won't even start about the possibilities of Khris and Micah. To me...working a fetish around your occupation is just lame...it's like getting off on what you do day in and day out. So...either your job will become sexier - therefore more difficult to perform with a straight face - or it will make your sex life boring because you are already bored with work."

"Makes total sense when you put it that way." Rowdy said, rubbing his undermuzzle. "Though I don't see what's so wrong with the wrestling thing."

"You may not, but imagine your Asher may feel a bit awkward the next time he gets in a ring."

"Well once he gets his eyes fixed. At least he's walking now."

The door to the bus opened, and Chong came out, singing along to yet another upbeat salsa song, bringing out the nachos and tortilla shells to make various entrées. He shook his rear, the happy golden retriever kind of a mascot for us now. We all gave a laugh, and one by one the guys decended the ladder to collect their food.

"You going to eat Renee?" Micah asked, scooting in along side me.

"Yeah just a second, let me go wake the family."

"If you're not back in 5 minutes we'll consider your forfeit on the grounds of sex." Rowdy said as he gave my rear another smack.

"Hey bitch, I made these burgers and dogs, and you can just save me some." I said as I sashayed my little rear up inside of the little apartment that was the bus. The temperature was still a good 20 or 30 degrees different between outside and inside, and never felt to be a strong chill. It also made me aware just how much a body can sweat.

Dad and Cyric were still cuddled, napping soundly. I almost didn't want to wake them. Cyric had taken our sexual encounter very well, and felt in his own mind ready for his next encounter. Dad himself had been up most of the night researching the Fletchers and Spike, and had still come up empty handed. I appreciated his diligence and effort in bringing them down, but the head of the Drug/Narcotic's division did need his break.

I kneeled down and gave them both a kiss on their lips. Dad stayed asleep, but Cyric stirred, sweeping his ears back, and making one of the cutest yawns I've ever seen. Its those baby-yawns that really can make almost anyone go soft.

"I fell asleep..." He said groggily.

"Yeah you did honey. You want to get up? Food is ready and all the hot dogs are cooked. Why don't you change into your speedo and go tan with the boys?"

"Sure, let me go use the bathroom first." He said as he slipped out of my dad's lap, and waked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. I was about to stand up, but my dad's hand reached out and pulled my face to his, locking us in a surprising kiss.

Surprising, but good nonetheless.

When it was broken, his eye opened, a little red with lack of sleep, but still the same cool grey that I'd become accustomed to as of late. "Hey there beautiful."

"Hey Dad. I didn't mean to wake you."

"No (streatching yawn) I was waking up slowly anyway. I was just waiting for Cyric to get off of me before I'd get up; didn't want to wake him up."

"That's thoughtful of you."

"Thoughtful as well as a bit shortsighted, I had a crick in my neck for a while." He said with a laugh, cracking his neck, before laying back down in the chair. "You know it's been ages since I've been to a race in person."

"You used to go?"

"Your step-father had a thing for it back when he actually went out and did things. Now-a-days our lives are rather stale as you know."

"Unfortunate. Well I extend the same invitation to you as Cyric as I did to you. Slip on something skimpy but respectable and get on the roof."

Dad smiled and shook his head. "Nah. You know how much time I spend in briefs, thongs, and bikini's? Feeling these shorts on is an interesting change from the norm. And might I say son...speaking of bikini's..." he said, moving his eyes across my body.

"Like it? Neil bought it for me to wear today." I said, standing and twirling in place.

"Well its definitely a you outfit. Say...is that a woman's bikini?"

I smiled. "Actually kind of. The designer of this particular suit designed it with women in mind, but has a revolutionary design that also allows for the possibility of cross dressers like me. Bras that wont chafe or cut into me, as well as bikini bottoms that will support and hold as well as hide my sheath when aroused."

"Well, that's certainly clever." Dad said, standing, and stretching. "Well I'm going to go join the guys. If you smell something like old meat burning, that'd be me."

"Oh dad hush."

He gave a laugh, and walked out of the bus, his large tail swishing happily. Soon my son came out, naked as a jaybird, holding an armful of meager garments in his hands. "Micah loaned me so many speedos, I don't know what pair to wear!"

"Well, hmm...since were cheering Sparky on, how about these cheetah pattern? Or...you could wear these rainbow tye die?" I suggested. The speedos were definitely too small for me, but since Micah and Cyric had about the same body frame, they'd fit. He nodded and slipped them on, leaving the heap of swimsuits on the couch, along with the shorts that he'd borrowed from the fennic.

"Are the hot dogs any good?" He asked, squatting and getting used to the feel of a brief as opposed to the looseness of shorts.

"Course. I bet you'll love the hot dogs I made." I said, taking his hand and leading him outside.

Once we got everyone situated food and drink wise (yes even Cyric had a small daiquiri), everyone grabbed their chairs, and headed to the roof. I stripped out of the shirt, and laid with the others, basking in the fine sun.

Shortly thereafter, Neil drove onto the field, parking next to us. He had good timing, because they were very close to closing the field down. He was wearing a simple T shirt and khaki shorts, looking rather sweaty. Though I had to admit he looked rather dashing in his prescription glasses.

"Hey baby." I said, scooping him into my arms and letting him share the lounge chair with me. Sure we were getting stares from the other infielders and I'm sure some wise ass had pointed us out from the grandstand, but I didn't give a...well rat's ass.

"Hey there love. Man it's a madhouse down there, everyone is all rushing about, I had to wait in line for almost this whole time."

"Any trouble?"

"Not really, except that Sparky gave me a call on your cell phone. He was asking if Jay had said anything about a family emergency."

I shook my head, and closed my eyes. "Not that I'm aware of. I haven't spoken with him in a day or two."

"Yeah and that bugs me. Something is up with Jay and I can't place my finger on it."

"Ah well I've met his pit team. Everything should be just fine. The junior pit chief should be capable."

"I'm sure you're right." Neil said as he let out an exhausted sigh. "I hate this California heat. Lets move to Washington."

We all scoffed. "Sure first thing in the morning." Khris said. "Lets all move to Seattle. Sorry, no. Rain is murder on leather mate."

Hey maybe we can get Micah to finally grow eh?" Rowdy joked, nudging the Fennic.

"Oh bugger off." The Fennic said with an eye roll.

"And sorry Neil, but this is my home. If things got really bad, I may leave, but if we had to leave just because of the heat I'd still stay here."

"Fine...let your husband melt into a pile of rat goo here on the roof of this bus."

"Oh that's easy, you'll just pool and reform all t-1000 style. Then we can make you into a super-Neil." Ritch said, walking by, brushing his crotch (intentionally or accidently I wasn't sure nor cared) across my face as he sat down with Cyric next to me in his own chair.

"Yeah, could you imagine me buff? I like my gut." He said as he grasped the sides of it, giggling it a little.

"Well you don't need to pack a mattress when you go camping eh Renee? Just lay on top?" Rowdy joked again.

This time Mitchell flicked his ear, much to the big man's amusement. He still found his joke hilarious. It was all harmless humor.

"I got you a program. It has the lineup. Even though you can pretty much look straight out and see, this still helps."

I took the paper from Neil, and gave it a once over. It was full of information on past races held at the raceway, information on records set there, as well as the usual lineup and profiles of the racers.

The program was fairly nice about Sparky. It gave his age, height, weight, and information about the car, as well as place of birth and a brief statement about his marriage to Jay. There was a detailed background of Sparky, telling how he'd grown up being a racer, and had really struggled to get where he was today. Then again, almost all the profiles were like that.

As I read the lineup, I recognized a few of the names. Sparky's Rival, Jack Baldwin was set back towards the end of the lineup; other big names like Waltrip and Jarrett, and Martin were set up closer towards the front, with our own Sparky in at number 2.

The lineup read like this:

Mark Martin #6 AAA

Sparky Deberoux #13 P-Flag

Michael Waltrip #55 Nappa Auto Parts

Jeff Burton #31 Cingulair

Kurt Busch #2 Miller Lite

Kyle Busch #5 Car quest

Kevin Harvick # 29 GM Goodwrench

Dale Jarrett #88 UPS

Jimmy Johnson #38 Lowes

Jeff Gordan #24 Dupont Paint

Matt Kenseth #17 USG Sheetrock

Bobby LaBonte #44 (Coors)

Sterling Marlin #14 Waste Management

Jeremy Mayfield #19 Dodge

Joe Nemechek #01 ARMY

Ryan Newman #12 Mobil

Kyle Petty #45 Wells Fargo

Ken Schrader #21 Little Debie

Tony Stewart #20 Home Depot

Jack Baldwin #37 Mag-Lite

Kenny Wallace #178 Furnature Row Racing

Michael Waltrip #55 Nappa Auto Parts

Scott Wimmer #4 Arrow Exhaust.

Dale E. Juinor #8 Bud

I got out of my seat, and grabbed the binoculars that were in the bus, and climbed back into my seat, laying beside my beloved Neil While waiting for the race to start I scanned pit-row, and didn't see Jay anywhere. It was odd. I saw Jonas squawking away into the wireless headset, probably talking away with Sparky whom was inside of his car. I moved my view to see Sparky, whom was packed in as cozy as a sardine inside of his Monte Carlo.

"Come on Sparky!" I shouted.

"No...go Juinor!" Came the sound of a 400 pound bear and his whale of a wife from their RV parked next to us.

I suddenly contemplated something. There had been hundreds of thousands of juniors throughout history, but I felt that Dale Earnheart Juinor was the only one in history you could refer to as Juinor and everyone would know who you were talking about. You could talk to someone that's probably never seen a fight in their lives, and they'd still know you were both thinking of the same guy. I mean, it was up there with "I wanna be like Mike."

At least with that everyone knew what you were talking about. I myself could care less.

Because within moments, the race was underway.

* * *

The first hundred laps were a bit mundane, even for me. Sparky had fallen into fourth place, and Jack had started to move his way up the standings rather quickly. There were a pair of wrecks where Gordan and Jr. had to be taken out of the race. It was unfortunate, but after the race got going again, it began to get good. When I was done tanning, I had began to slip into something a bit easier, and had buttoned up the shirt and pulled on some blue jeans. Everyone else remained as next to naked as they already were. I myself was done tanning, and now felt like chilling out inside for a while.

Watching the race on TV was different then staring at cars going in circles. Here you got several camera angles, and detailed analysis, and all the instant replay's you need. This was a little easier than rotating my head 360 degrees over and over again, or making my eyes dance around the track.

As the race pulled into lap 200, Jack had pulled up right alongside Sparky and was keeping pace. Even the commentators on the TV were surprised at how aggressive Jack had been acting, closing over a 10 car gap between the two of them. I had to be impressed at the driving skills, as well as the prowess of this particular racer. He must have really wanted to beat Sparky bad.

* * *

Meanwhile

* * *

Jicenta slowly opened his eyes, his world swimming around him. He was on the bathroom floor, and he wasn't sure why. His head was throbbing, and his teeth hurt for some reason. He hadn't felt this bad since he'd been hit with a lead pipe in college. Well, someone had to have hit him.

He staggered out into his locker room, and looked around, the place was deserted. As he looked about, he noticed his clothes were missing, as well as his personal papers. His wallet, and keys, and cell phone were missing as well. Even the phone to the room had it's cord cut. Something was definitely amiss.

"Hey! Somebody! Anybody!"

No one answered. "Fucking figures, everyone's watching the race." Jay went to try the door, and unsurprisingly found it locked.

Jay looked around. The building wasn't built with windows, and he couldn't think of how to get out. Jay found his bag, and slipped on a pair of jeans, and walked back over to the door, and gave it a few shoulder thrusts. The door didn't budge.

"HELP! SOMEBODY!" Jay called out.

Jay kept thrusting his shoulder up against the doorway until he wasn't sure which was going to give first, his shoulder or the door. With the way the door was blocked, more than likely his shoulder was going to break first. Damn thick metal doors.

Jay slumped against the wall, and pounded his fist in anger. "Damnit it was that mink! Why would that fucker lock me in here?" He asked himself. "To make me miss the race? Well lets just see about this."

Jay looked around the room and aside from chairs and benches and shower equipment, there wasn't much else to go on. He was about to give up when he spotted the fire extinguisher against the wall. He rubbed his chin, and tried to think of how he could use this to his advantage. "Where's Richard Dean Anderson when you need him?"

Jay finally settled on grabbing the extinguisher off of the wall, and began pounding against the door. With all his might he thrust the extinguisher against the blue metal door, slowly denting the middle, but definitely not enough to make much headway in the means to his goal.

"Fuck I can't stand this." He said, as he resumed pounding and kicking.

As he lost his temper against the door, he could have swore he heard someone calling out from the other side. At last. "Hello?"

"Yeah! Who's in there?"

"Jicenta Deberoux. Someone locked me in here!"

The voice paused and then came back. "Yeah they seem to have welded the door shut in a couple places, but stand clear I have an idea on how to get you out of there."

"Good. I've been beaten and robbed, and want out of here."

After a good 10 minutes, he could hear the sounds of a motor headed his way. He stood back as suddenly the door burst off it's hinges, as a confused looking gecko blinked from on top of the forklift that had knocked the door down. "You alright?"

"I'll be fine. What lap are they on?"

"About lap 220 sir."

"Damnit. Who's running the P-flag pit crew?"

"I don't know, some guy I guess."

Jay scoffed and brushed his hair out of his face. "Some guy my ass...you call the cops, cause I'm going to want them here."

"Where are you going?!" The Gecko said, rather confused and perplexed at all of this.

"I'm going down to the race where I belong of course."

* * *

I was about to head up onto the roof again, when my cell phone went off. I didn't know who in the blue blazes would be calling me in the middle of the race, since everyone I knew was practically right in front of me.

I sat forward, and picked up the little communications device, and looked at the caller ID. I didn't recognize the number so I answered it anyway. "Hello?"

"Renee?! This is Jay."

"Jay where the hell are you?" I asked, a big worried. "No one knows where you are."

"Oh I know just where I am, some mink with two lummox bodyguards just knocked my shit out, and they are trying to get me through security, but it's a bitch. Who is running the crew right now?"

"I can't tell, the cameras aren't getting a good angle, and Sparky is in pit-row right now, I can't see the crew."

"Once the car moves, tell me whom you see wearing the headphones."

I quickly climbed to the roof of the car, and grabbed my binoculars; the car was long gone by then. 6 seconds go by rather quickly. Everyone looked up at me kind of funny, as I scanned Sparky's spot in pit row.

I didn't believe my eyes. It was as if he saw me...staring right into my eyes. Spike. Spike drawing a slash across his throat with his thumb, as he slapped five to two enormous rabbits that I could easily identify as Heckyl and Jeckyl. Spike then turned, removing his cap and walked away, out of view. Oh my gods...

"SPIKE!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, making everyone sit up as I dropped the binoculars and phone. The binoculars landed with a thud as the cell phone bounced and fell into the still smoldering grill. Damnit.

"What is it?" Neil asked, looking at me.

"It's Spike! Spike is on the pit crew! Good gods, Spark is in trouble! We have to stop the race."

Kurt stood and grabbed me gently. "You're talking crazy, why would Spike be down here, in front of thousands of people. More importantly how could he get passed security?"

"I don't know but we have to do something! I don't know, run onto the track or something...I have a feeling something bad is about to happen."

Chong then looked at me and back to the race. "Look man, nothing's happening. All that's happening is that hombre Jack is riding Sparky a little close. That's all."

I didn't want to hear it. I looked up at the lap number, and it read 231. I made a lunge to jump off the side of the bus, but I had forgotten how strong Kurt was. I started to struggle and kick, screaming that they had to let me go, begging, pleading that I had to warn Sparky, that I had to be set free.

"God damn he's lost it!" Rowdy said, grabbing onto my legs, Ritch moved over as well to help.

"Renee snap out of it!" Ritch said, trying to hold onto me as well. I wasn't pussy footing around with them, I tried to kick and claw and bite, not caring that these were my friends and lovers, but more concerned with what could happen.

The lap number went to 232, as Chong said. "Look Renee, its lap 232."

I didn't care, I had to struggle. "Forgive me guys."

I pumped my legs hard, and kicked back Ritch and Rowdy. From all my years of leg squats and weighted kicks, It was powerful enough to send Ritch toppling into Neil's lap and Rowdy into Chong's. I then hyper extended my arms and slipped out of Kurt's grasp, popping my arms back in as I lept off the side of the bus. Fortunately my martial arts training had taught me how to land without twisting something or breaking an ankle.

"Renee! Get back here! Don't you dare run onto that track! So help me..." Kurt called after me, about to get the chase of his life.

I sprinted as fast as I could towards the barricade that was to keep fans from doing what I was going to do, as I could hear the thudding footfalls of Kurt behind me. I pumped my kicking legs as hard as I could, glad I was in shape, but fearful because Kurt was always in shape. And if any one of you make a reference to a hound chasing a fox, I'm going to scream.

I could feel him catching up behind me as I made my way past trucks, cars, and RV's; the barricade nearly within reach.

But what I saw next, made both of us stop in our tracks.

Car number 37, the Mag-Lite car driven by Jack Baldwin, made a sudden and dangerous veer towards Sparky. Sparky, whom probably didn't expect the turn, made a sharp turn towards the wall, only to be put into it. The cars skidded for a moment before Sparky's car must of done something it didn't like, and there was an explosion, and the car was suddenly airborne.

Kurt reached me at this time. "Fuck me!" He said, panting, looking at the spectacle of a 1.5 ton stock car flying through the air.

For the brief moments it was airborne you could see that the wheels had come off. It didn't look like they'd been ripped off, it look like the front wheels had just fell off, despite the engine area being slightly munched.

The car turned over and over in the air, time seemed to last forever in that instant. I could almost make out every camera flash, and every single piece of debris as Sparky's car made its flips through the air.

As it came down with a crashing thud, and began to roll, I saw something rainbow and looking like a body thrown forward from the car. It hit the pavement and bounced like a rag doll, as the car bounced a few more times, only to roll on top of him.

I didn't realize I'd been screaming until the car stopped. My body took over, and once more I found myself running towards the track, this time Kurt joined me, as the crowd became sunningly silent.

Officials tried to stop us, but Kurt flashed his LAPD badge, and we made it over to the car, even faster than rescue personnel whom were still headed over in their little ambulance.

Sparky lay face down, the car was resting on top of him, but thankfully not flush. The engine had caught fire, and I was worried about an explosion. Kurt kneeled next to me and instructed me on how to remove him gently. "Hold his neck, and turn him over...we got to get him clear."

We did so, and dragged him clear, moving him about a hundred feet away from the burning car, where we were met by rescue officials. Kurt flashed his badge, and assisted.

They slowly pulled off his helmet. Blood was coming from places I didn't think blood should have been pouring from. Kurt motioned me in, as I held his head in place. The doctors were calling out doctor like things, but I didn't hear them.

Sparky's eyes opened, and they were blood logged, the whites were nearly red as blood was coming out from the eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. He looked up at me, and we gained eye contact for a moment before he spat out a wad of blood, and spoke.

"It was...Spike...wasn't it?"

I nodded. Behind me another truck came up, Jicentia leapt off the back of it and scooted in beside me. "Sparky! Sparky talk to me!"

"I...can't feel...anything...Jay...can't...breathe..."

"Come on you're going to be fine...just hang in there."

Sparky made a guttural rattle, and spit out more blood, but I was guessing that he was having more blood come up than he could handle. Jay shouted at the workers to hurry up, but they were working as fast as they could, assessing injuries. Sparky then looked at us, and said,

"Love...U...Ne...love...U...Jay...lo-....lo..."

Sparky didn't say anything else. Blood had pooled in his mouth and was now literally overflowing. Kurt pulled me back as Jay screamed at Sparky to say something. Two other officials came to pry Jay away as they tried to revive him.

Shortly afterward, they shook their heads.

* * *

Alex poured a glass of champagne and held up his glass against Spike's. Hours later, the two were safe in the surrender of a private plane headed towards Boston.

"To one of the most beautiful, well thought out murders I've ever seen." Alex said with a truly pleased smile on his face.

"And to you, the only man as sadistic as I am."

The pair sat comfortably in their leer jet, watching the news coverage of the crash on perpetual replay. Nearly every station in the world was covering the crash. You could even see me and Jay in some shots, crouching over the body. The press played down my role in it nearly to just mentioning my name. Jay on the other hand had cameras shoved in his face all day, and couldn't bear to speak to anyone.

"I particularly love the way his body rolls when it gets thrown from the car. Did you get the safety net as well?" Alex asked.

"Yeah it was a little difficult, but I had Heckyl give it a little slash when Sparky pulled in for that last pit-stop; course after they loosened his tires."

"And you cut his harness? That was just sheer brilliance."

"Well what can I say, I make my work my masterpieces."

Spike then reached over and placed the Sparky racing cap on his head, the one stolen from Jay, as the pair laughed. "My my, this is quite the trophy you picked up."

"Ah you should see what I got from Gordon and Juinor...I got their wallets. MMm-mmm...them boys should have heard of a little thing called American express." He said, pulling out a wad of bills from his thong, and wafting it in the air, spreading the smell of musk and money in the cabin.

"Don't leave home without it!" Alex laughed, slapping his knee.

"Definitely not. You know what my momma used to say to me when I was a kid before I killed her: Never leave home without the triple plastic crowns of your fake id, credit card, and condoms."

Alex nodded, as he sipped the champagne. "Hear-hear." Alex then slipped off the cap, and then kneeled in front of Spike, playfully nudging his crotch with his face.

"Why Alex...what are you doing?"

"I was thinking about something I've been wanting to ask you." Alex said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small ring case. "I want you to marry me. Be my partner and together, we can corner the world of crime and legitimate business. Together we can keep people we don't like down, and we'll live like kings."

Alex opened up the box. It was a solid platinum cockring, the same shape and gauge as the one Spike was already wearing. Spike let out a gasp of surprise, and took the ring.

"I accept...I think this'll be a very interesting marrage..."

"Well let me put it in for you..."

Alex stripped Spike's pants and underwear down, and with the help of a leatherman he'd had prepared, unscrewed the old ring. Alex, then, slipped the ring into his pocket, and placed the new shinier one through the holes, and screwed it in.

"It fits! What do you know."

Alex smiled and then slowly slid the shaft into his mouth, taking Spike's half empty glass and setting it in the table, as he used his muscles to pull the flaccid member down into his throat. Spike closed his eyes, and relaxed, enjoying the fruits of a rather painstaking labor he'd undergone earlier.

Alex could feel the shaft pumping blood through it's vessels, getting firmer, and harder, and thicker, and longer inside his mouth. Occasionally he'd move the head to trap just against his upper palate, and attack the glans with his tongue. The ring had always been a fun toy for Alex to play with, and now it was an engagement ring. Alex licked and sucked at the piercing, tugging on it and becoming addicted to the metallic taste of cockring.

Now Spike was filling him up, filling his mouth with the very essence of what made him male. Alex churred softly, letting his mouth wrap itself firmly on the flesh of his shaft like a vice, holding him there, and letting him feel the fullness of the sex organ inside of his muzzle before he began the rudimentary process of bobbing. Sinful it was, engaging in sex so high above the earth; to embrace another man so close to the heavens was more subtly erotic than he could imagine.

"Oh yes Alex...yes..."

Alex moved his hands across the torso of Spike, and removed what little clothing spike wore, and tossed it aside. Spike and Alex were entirely alone, and he didn't fear at all of being caught. It was his plane, and the pilots' job was to just fly the damn plane to point B. Spike then slid out of his chair, pulling his cock from the mouth of Alex with a noisy slurp, as he pushed Alex to the floor of the plane, gently and softly. Soft and tender lovemaking was something rare for Spike, and he was going to take this mile-high opportunity to take some.

Spike sat on Alex's lap and helped him out of his suit coat, throwing it aside without care. His hands slid the suspenders down, and then gripped his shirt collar on either side tight, as if he was going to rip it; but the mink just slowly brought them into a kiss. When the kiss was broken, Spike unbuttoned Alex's shirt one painful button at a time, sliding his tie out of the way, and slipping his shirt off of his shoulders, before leaning in, and pressing his mouth firmly against the middle of Alex's chest. Alex closed his eyes, and lost himself in the sweet and gentle love that his fiancé was lavishing upon him; moving his tongue then slowly in figure 8's from pectoral to pectoral.

Alex moved his hands down to his waist, and undid his pants, and shoes and socks, kicking the garments off while Spike decided it was a good idea to nurse on his nipples.

"Ooooo that's nice Spike..."

"You're damn right it is..."

Alex lay in nothing but a tiger striped bikini brief, writhing in what could be called agony on the floor under the gentle administrations of Spike's tongue.

With a final lick, Spike then pivoted around, moving his lower body over Alex's, and engaging the pair into a 69; lowering his cock with intent into his lover' mouth, while he used his mink muzzle to fish Alex's own penis from the confines of his brief. Like an eager child leaping into the arms of his parent, the phallus lunged into Spike's mouth; it would see that Alex was particularly eager to be pleased, as well as please.

Spike hooked the cock in a crooked path into his mouth, using more cheek than anything else to please the right side of Alex's penis, while his tongue lapped at the left side of the rabbit prick. Alex used his fine black lips to wrap themselves around Spike's chalk white member and push it as far down into his throat as he could, even letting Spike's scrotum roll across his nose to give him a whiff of that almost tangible aroma that was Spike's musk. Spike obliged, and thrust his hips slowly in and out of Alex's mouth, gripping Alex's thighs tight, and holding them to his shoulders - Alex's legs now bending at the knee and feet planted flat onto the floor.

"Mmmm" Alex moaned around spike, making soft little moaning noises.

"That's it...work that dick...work it good..." Spike said with a mouth full of cock himself, using a free hand to molest and massage the unattended scrotum of Alex. Spike was secretly fond of Alex's scrotum. It was perfectly proportioned, not to big and not to small, and of course...utterly suckable. Spike pulled off Alex's cock, leaving a saliva trail from his lips to the tip. Spike took a breath, and stroked the prodigious penis, moving his head down to sniff himself at the musk of Alex. Rabbits had the most curious sexual aroma, it was almost like hot rubber, or burning wood...queer but addicting. Spike moved his mouth firm over the scrotum, and as he expected Alex jerked, moving the testicles inside back almost out of reach. Spike groaned and began to pump his cock in and out of Alex's mouth faster now as he sucked hard on the fleshy and furry scrotum, his mouth suddenly filled with two plops of the orbs of life.

"Oh Fuck!" Alex gargled around the penis, wrapping his arms around the small of Spike's scarred back, holding his mouth still; just enjoying the face fucking he was getting. Spike began to pound his cock harder and faster, deeper and stronger. Alex could feel the balls of his lover slapping his face, surely to the point of bruising his nose or hurting themselves. Spike sucked and nursed, switching back and forth between Alex's balls and cock, getting him ready...

To Alex's surprise, minutes later, Spike drove his cock and pelvis hard against his face and held it there, Spike's cock twitching and jerking in orgasm. Alex's eyes widened in genuine surprise, as he was forced to swallow, his mouth filled with steamy mink cream. Spike let out a guttural, and feral grunt...unloading his sperm where it belonged...inside the mouth of his lover.

When he was done, he slipped the cock out of his mouth and crawled down the length of Alex's body, pressing a finger to his lips, before Spike gripped little Alex in his hands, and began to guide his length into him.

Alex hadn't topped Spike yet, but man was he liking what he was feeling. Spike's ass was so tight and yet so deliciously deep and soft...he understood now why mink's were so sought after in the sexual world. "Now fuck me Alex...just fuck don't worry about being sexy..."

Alex wasn't quite sure how to do it, but he figured Spike was asking to merely hump. If that's all he wanted he'd be more than willing to oblige. They were going to be members of the mile-high club after all. Once he had felt Spike loose enough to hump into, Alex began to rock his hips back and forth, and slowly build up some momentum. Spike kneeled in place, placing his hands on the back of his head, running them through his long locks, looking like an exotic dancer about to perform a naughty striptease.

Alex looked at his lover's back. He wasn't used to seeing it this close; and he was almost horrified at the amount of scars he'd obtained. He noticed gunshot wounds, stab wounds, slash marks, whip scars, and even burns towards the back of his neck. Spike had definitely had it rough, compared the cakewalk that was his own life. Alex knew he felt great sympathy for Spike, but at the same time profound love. The pair had so much in common, and as he observed spike being rocked up and down on his shaft he felt compelled to give him the best fucking he could.

The rabbit gripped onto the mink's hips, and drove his pelvis up and down as fast and as hard as he could. He fucked as only a rabbit could, driving his shaft into the body of another with every intent of obtaining orgasm. Alex's rabbit ears swept back as he thrust his cock into his mate, eyes clenched shut, grunting and groaning with every single pump.

"That's it...yess....yess....come on now Alex...fuck me..."

Alex pushed Spike forward into a doggy style position and remounted, gripping onto him tight, and fucking deep and hard and swift, not missing a beat as the bushy and alluring tail of the white mink swished back and forth, his head lowered, hair shrouding his face, as if barely registering what was happening to him, or so lost in bliss that he couldn't possibly react more than he was.

Alex moved a hand down to fiddle with Spike's cock, but he slapped it away, and groaned, "Forget about me, I'm fine, just fuck! Fuck me Alex...I need this right now! Don't stop!"

He wasn't one to argue with his lover, and kept humping. Alex had the conscious thought that he hadn't used a single drop of lube, but he was still almost vaginally soft and slick. Perhaps Spike was just naturally gifted in that aspect.

But he wasn't really able to find out much more; unable to hold back, Alex launched his sperm into Spike, jerking hard and violently with his genuinely powerful explosion.

* * *

It had taken me hours, but I finally found Jicenta. After Sparky's death, he had fled, and couldn't be contacted him. I found him, of all places, in the now empty apartment we had once occupied. He was standing in the same corner of the room he'd often stand in, watching the world go by, and in quiet meditation. I remember it was that same corner the otter was standing in when the earthquake had happened, he was standing there like he was now, arms behind his back at parade rest, watching the evening sky. The numbers had been taken off all the doors to the apartments, but finding ours was no problem. The door wasn't locked, and I suppose it was mere chance I happened to find him there.

"Jay?"

"What do you want..." Jay said, his voice deep, and wracked with grief. I stepped past the threshold and walked towards him. I could see the stained floors where Sparky and I had got carried away were still a bit...stained. That didn't matter anymore. I moved as close as I dared, before I spoke.

"Talk to me Jay...what's going on?"

"You know what's going on." He said deeply. "This is all your fault Renee. All your fault."

"How is this my fault? Sparky was murdered by a cold-blooded killer acting in partnership to a mad man. I had nothing to do with this."

"Oh yes you did." He said, turning around, and showing me his bloodshot eyes. "You know you did. You fucked Sparky...right where you stand. You and him just had to roll over and do it didn't you?"

"Well it's not like he held a gun to my head, he was just as willing to play as I was."

"But that's not my point!" Jay hissed. "You...and that libido of yours. I thought I could handle it. I thought I could even be a part of it, but I was wrong. No matter how I look at it, you're a black pit Renee. People get near you and they don't have a chance of escaping the pull you have."

I blinked. "Do you even hear what you're saying?"

"Of course I do. I know that if you could have just kept your dick to yourself and left me and Sparky out of this mess, he'd still be alive and Spike wouldn't have felt need to hill him."

"Come on man..." I pleaded "Alex Fletcher is nuts! He's a megalomaniac! He thinks this is all some sort of revenge game, and he thinks attacking you will get to me. Well he's already got to me as it is, and I've already sacrificed everything I held sacred to keep you all safe. Now two close friends are dead because of his lust for revenge for something I'm quite frankly not responsible for."

"Who's not to say that Asher wouldn't have ever got with Fletcher if you were never around?"

"For fuck's sake - Asher was there when Felcher was being a jerk, Asher was there when the asshole yelled at me after my parents were murdered. You were there yourself, he was a jerk, and this one is just plain insane!"

"That may be your opinion, but maybe its you that needs to get his head examined. Ever think all this sex might be bad for you? You fuck all of us Renee, every last one of us, including your own father, son and dog...you fuck people you meet, strangers, and even people that are basically wanting to rape you. Renee...you don't know how to say no."

"Bet my ass I don't know how to say no. I said no to Asher for as long as I can remember, then I was nice and took his virginity that night we had the orgy at Micah and Khris' place after the earthquake. Believe me I say no to plenty of people."

"And how many Renee come up to you on a daily basis that you haven't fucked already? You're worse than Blanche you know that? I mean have you had so much sex that you've lost all concept of values in relationships? Have you ever stopped to think about that?"

I snarled a little bit. "Listen, I know you're upset and you probably aren't realizing what you're saying. But understand you and I are brothers in the arms of Satan. 'Live life in the absence of guilt', you know that as much as I am. I don't feel guilty for anything I've done recently."

Jay sneered and spat at my feet. "I regret you Renee...I regret you. You know...Sparky wrote me a note, and snuck it into my bag before the race. I was in denial when I read it, but after all this happened, I knew it had to be true." He paused and took a step towards me. "He was fucking that boy. Day-in and day out almost. On top of that lie which has cost us the home which we worked so hard to obtain, you bring your deviant little boychild into our lives, and all of a sudden Sparky isn't sure he loves me anymore." Jay reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled letter. "It says right here. 'Jay...I don't think I'm attracted to you, I don't think I love you anymore. You're a great guy and a worthy husband, but I've fallen head over heals in love with Renee and his family. Please understand it's not your fault, this is about Renee, not you.'" Jay said, throwing the letter at my feet after crumpling it up. "See, this IS your fault."

"Jay, he told me that stuff in confidence; I never expected him to actually tell you about it."

"Well he did. I know the truth now...and all I can say is I've had it with this existence. I'm done. Sparky was my everything Renee, my only reason for living, and now because of YOU...you've gone and taken it away from me. I have half a mind to kill you myself...but I don't want you to ever see the glory of hell by my hands...no sir...you're going to have to earn your place in hell..."

I blinked, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "I ...I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything. I have grown tiresome of your voice, and your presence repulses me..."

I backed away slowly, as he walked into the kitchen, and grabbed a few containers of bleach from under the sink, and began to splash it about the room. The smell was overpowering, I had to cover my face. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see Renee...you'll see."

"Come on Jay, we still need to take care of Sparky. His funeral and all that."

"Its out of my hands Renee. He wasn't satanic, and his family doesn't want him. The soul's out of the body, it's a useless husk now...you know that. Honoring the body with any kind of service is asinine...then again you'd know all about asinine now wouldn't you?"

"Jay...you've snapped. Come on get out of this bleach or you'll suffocate yourself."

I moved past the bleached floor, and Jay produced a switchblade from his back pocket. "Don't...so help me Morningstar, I'll carve out your heart and eat it as my last meal if you come any closer."

"Come on Jay...don't do this...I need you just as much as everyone else needs you."

Jay finished the bottle of bleach by dousing it over himself. He hissed as the powerful liquid starting to burn his skin as he doused himself. The hiss turned into a painful scream, as he fell to his knees, clenching his fists. "You brought this on yourself Renee...by the flames of hell...may our blood be forever on your hands...and yay though I shall eat naught, sleep naught, breathe naught, drink naught, and to forever writhe in the forest of the selfish...know that when the dark day of your death comes I will great your blood upon my roots with great thirst...and the greatest of pleasure."

Jay then reached into his back pocket, and produced a cigarette lighter. I lept backwards, and heard the click of him trying to light it. I didn't see much else, as there was a sudden fireball and explosion that sent me flying backwards and through the doorway. I shook off, and stood, seeing the room that was once my apartment engulfed in flames. Jay, kneeling, arms outstretched, and head towards the bowels of hell...screamed out his final evocation. He spoke the ancient Latin, speaking every word as powerfully as he could with flames and searing heat hitting his face point blank. The smell of burning hair and flesh was overwhelming...I think I was screaming myself in disbelief - two friends dying in the same day.

"Surround me oh great flames of hell! Take me now Lucifer The True Morningstar! Take me! Take me! Take me! Deliver me from the cold and cruel earth into your warm kingdom...now and forever!"

* * *

Epilogue...

* * *

Jay burned to death that night. I was fortunate to make it out of that building in one piece, as the fire spread very quickly through the old building. Gas lines ruptured and exploded, and the old Churchill Estates burned to the ground. Any hope of getting my home back, was now gone.

Upon receiving the news of the apartment building's destruction, Alex was overjoyed. Alex even had the gall to send me a letter of thanks, not only for taking care of a problem for him, but because Jay had decided to burn the building to the ground Alex was able to save money by no longer needing to hire a demolitions crew but he was also able to collect the insurance on the building - making him even more rich.

The next morning, Chong was found overdosed on medications, laying sprawled out on the steps of police headquarters. Claiming responsibility, for drugs found on his property, Lt. Mitchell was fired from the police force for his negligence and misconduct. Ritch is going to appeal the decision using his FBI influence, but I don't know if that'll work.

Bob...I haven't seen bob since we moved. He got out one night, and I haven't seen him since.

I wasn't able to cope with all of this. After the funerals that were held for Jay and Sparky, I left town. I left in the middle of the night, without telling anyone, and leaving no note. I ran. I couldn't stand the idea of anyone else I knew dying as a result of me, or as a result of my actions. I decided it had to end.

Because of me, Gustauv was deported, Jeice was murdered, Kurt lost his job, Chong was back on drugs, and Jay and Sparky were dead. I couldn't accept it, and I didn't want to deal with it anymore. I'd witnessed 3 deaths up close in less than a year, and I didn't want to see anymore.

I was going to just run away...and never return.

Never....

...ever...

.........till I knew...

...it was safe.