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Skippy sighed. He'd hoped to avoid Duke today. But it seemed that no matter what he did, he always encountered him. Every path led to Duke. This morning, as the short little squirrel boy walked to school, he rounded a corner after cutting through the playground instead of going through the front way, he stopped short as he came upon an enormous, bulky, well-muscled squirrel preteen in a tightfitting leather jacket with the collar turned up around his head leaning against the brick wall.

If Duke was waiting for him, he didn't act like it. He blinked and turned to look dimly at the smaller boy, a lit cigarette in his hand. He looked surprised to see Skippy, and that meant, at least, the bigger boy hadn't actually been waiting for him and been lying in wait. This was a good thing because it meant Duke wasn't omniscient and capable of always appearing right where Skippy went even if it seemed like he did, though as Skippy literally stood on the much, much larger boy's shadow, that was of little reassurance to him. However it had happened, he and Duke had crossed paths again and that meant that he was going to be late for class again.

Duke frowned, slowly raising the filter of the cigarette to his lips. He took a drag as he eyed the shorter student up and down like a piece of meat. He didn't anything for a moment. Then he took the cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled twin little trails of smoke from his nostrils. "Mornin', there, Shorty," he said, his voice deep, with more than a hint of a lisp.

"Uh, h-hi, Duke," Skippy said. "Good morning."

"What's good about it?" Duke wanted to know. He eyed the glowing tip of the cigarette. "It's cold and wet. I hate cold and wet." He grumbled and took his free hand out of his pocket and used it to pull his jacket a little tigether around his enormous form, which it barely fit over even though it was a hand-me-down from his deadbeat father. Even though he was only being held back two grades, Duke was already three times the size of every other student at school.

Skippy had been aware Duke smoked, but had never caught him doing it on school grounds. He was not going to report him to the principal. Snitches got stitches, Duke like to say, and in at least one case, it'd been literal for one of the bully's regulars, a pretty nasty cut above one eyebrow from being slammed against the wall face-first as part of his punishment for getting Duke sent to detention for tattling on him. Consequently, not only wasn't he going to tell the principal, or anyone, for that matter, that Duke was smoking on school property, but he was very keen on ensuring that not even the possibility of that entered Duke's head. It would make what he was about to endure much worse.

"I, uh, I didn't..." Skippy stammered, and adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder.

"Ya didn't mean nothin', ya mean?" Duke asked, turning and looking down at him with half-open eyes that conveyed a disinterested malevolence. When Skippy nodded, Duke said, "Well, like I said, it's cold and wet, and I hate that." He flicked the cigarette away, leaving a trail of glowing ashes.

He stuffed both hands into his jacket pockets and used his shoulder to push off the wall.

"But it's kinda good now that you're here, Stumpy," he said, a dull smirk spreading across his muzzle. There was a kind of sneering fondness for the smaller boy in his voice, and his gaze shifted subtly from disinterested and malevolant to affectionaly cruel mild interest.

Skippy knew he'd get only get more interested the longer he lingered in Duke's presence, and, wishing to avoid what was inevitably coming, he mumbled, "Well, I'll be seein' ya, Duke," and took a few steps forward as though to go around the tree trunk thick form of leather-clad squirrel, but Duke intercepted him casually, sticking one foot out and planting it firmly in the other boy's path. Even before he stepped fully to stand in Skippy's way, it was evident that this was a wordless command to halt, and Skippy obeyed.

Despite this, Duke, his voice tinged with bemused tolerance, said, "And where do ya think YOU'RE goin'?"

At his full height, he towered over Skippy. The younger boy's eyes were in line with Duke's belly button, or at least where it would be behind the buttoned up front of his shirt.

Nominally, he was dressed appropriately for school. Due to complaints about the students running around naked or only partially clothed half the time, the principal had instituted a new dress code which stipulated that the students, well, dress, specifically in dorky-looking uniforms designed by a committee of clueless adults. The boys all wore blue child-sized suit jackets and little shorts with darker blue stripes running down the outsides of the legs. Little red baseball caps and matching bowties holding the collars of neatly-starched white dress shirts closed completed the look. Straight-A student that he was, always keen to follow the rules, Skippy's attire was perfectly up to code, but Duke had interpreted the dress as a mere suggestion than a command from on high, and the school officials had long since given up attempting to enforce the proper dress code on him after the umpteenth stint in detention had failed to penetrate.

After all, the only outcome left after so many detentions was permanent expulsion, and, delinquent or not, the principal wasn't keen on destroying Duke's academic future over the fact he didn't dress properly. As long as he wore pants, she was fine with his choice in attire, which consisted of what Duke and Duke alone interpreted as a proper schoolboy uniform. From head to toe, everything was designed to convey the muscular squirrel's inherent rebelliousness to all who looked upon him. When he wore the hat, which he wasn't today, he wore it backwards or cocked back with the brim up at an insolent angle. As mentioned, he wore the same leather jacket as he always did, either over or in place of the blue suit jacket provided as part of the uniform, although his had to be custom-ordered because of how big he was. He did have it on under the leather jacket today, but only because he wanted an extra layer due to the cold early spring morning chill in the air. He also wore the bowtie and the white shirt, but the bowtie was always crooked, the shirt always rumpled and un-ironed, and in place of the striped shorts Duke wore what struck Skippy was the tightest blue jeans in the world. And the front of those jeans was currently bulging with a slowly swelling tumescence that signalled exactly what the older boy expected from the younger one currently eclipsed by his shadow.

"Nowhere," Skippy answered quickly, and he was surprised at how naturally the lie sounded. "Just... y'know, walking closer to you."

Duke saw through the flattery. "Saw me smokin', huh?" he asked after a moment, rolling his enormous shoulders under the leather jacket.

Skippy sighed, and slowly let the backpack slip off his shoulder, to dangle by the handle in one hand. So much for the possibility that he might tattle on Duke not entering the bully's mind.

Duke had of course convinced everyone that he'd reformed, with his only incidents of misbehaving being occasionally getting in fights and, of course, refusing to obey the new dress code; he no longer so actively and publicly bullied the other boys, but privately, it continued. He wasn't as forceful as he'd once been, at least with Skippy, as it seemed that the cartoonish vengeance his classmate had wrought against him still stung, but he forcibly demanded permission for their earlier encounters to continue uninterrupted, only this time, with Skippy's perverse compliance, which he'd gotten. Not at first, of course. A surprised Skippy had refused, and earned ye olde fashioned knuckle sandwich delivered directly to the gut, and the digestion of the meal was long and painful as he'd writhed on his knees clutching his belly at Duke's feet, and so he hadn't dared refuse Duke again. His body since that day bore the consequences of this decision, the adornments that unofficially marked him as Duke's.

With one toe, Duke nudged at the backpack in Skippy's hand and the shorter boy let it drop. Then he glanced in either direction to ensure they were alone, and with a graceful kick sent the backpack sailing away to land in some bushes.

"You can get it in a minute," he said as Skippy tensed to go retrieve it. "Right now, like I said, I wanna get what ya saw and what you're gonna do about it outta the way."

He smirked and took one hand out of his pocket, and down came that hand huge enough to fully enclose around Skippy's face like a catcher's mask or a facehugger from that one scary movie Skippy watched recently, the palm smushing into his face, compressing his nose slightly, fingers coming together at the back of the head so that the tips touched slightly. With zero effort, the muscular arm bulged visibly through the leather sleeve and up went Skippy off of his feet.

"And what you saw was NOTHIN'! Got that?" Skippy managed a muffled response that Duke interpreted as affirmation. Those fingers tightened slightly. The grip hurt already, but this very mild constriction around the smaller squirrel's trapped head was enough to elicit a little squeal of pain that was pleasing to Duke. His smirk deepening, he added, "And what're ya gonna DO?"

It was obvious the muffled reply this time was "Nothing," and Duke nodded, tightened his grip just slightly harder, then the fingers opened, and Skippy was dropped to the ground on his little behind, his hat falling down to land crookedly on his head, the visor half covering his eyes.

"That's a good boy, Skippy," Duke said, using his favorite plaything's real name for the first time that morning, something he only did when he was feeling especially affectionate.

With a trembling hand, Skippy grabbed the visor of the hat and tilted it up. Duke now seemed taller than ever from this vantage point, and from where he was sitting, Skippy had a very good view of the bulging front of the bigger student's jeans. It looked like he had a tube of tennis balls or something else of similar girth stuffed down the front and the bulge was only getting larger.

Mock concern passed over Duke's face, and like all his insincere expressions and gestures, it was so transparent that Skippy figured Duke did it just as a taunt.

"Didn't hurt ya, did I?" Duke asked, his voice lower, husky, still smiling that weirdly mean but also affectionate smile. Even though tears were welling up in his eyes, Skippy shook his head. Duke nodded, and very slowly, the meanness faded from his smile, and his eyebrows went up, his expression softened. But only slightly. The dangerousness, the penchant for petty cruelty was still there, but this expression, this smile showing something resembling affection for the smaller boy sitting at his feet was genuine. A thick finger was lifted and stroked along Skippy's cheek. "Aw, you're shakin' like a leaf!" he said, still whispering huskily. "Must be from the cold. I know what. I'll warm ya up good n' proper. Whaddaya say, Slurpy...?"

"D-Duke," Skippy tried to plead, "we'll be late for class--"

The finger stroked along his cheek and slid into his mouth, silencing him. "So what? We'll have to stay late after school. Gives us time for more fun. Or are ya sayin' you're refusin' my perfectly kind-hearted offer to warm you up?" The dangerousness grew slightly in his tone. He moved the finger in and out of the bucktoothed mouth. "I can't let my favorite little faggot catch a chill, after all."

Pop! The finger was pulled free, trailing some saliva, and Skippy coughed and sniffled. And with that, the young squirrel agreed to be warmed on that cold morning by his tormentor. Chuckling, Duke used his finger to flick the baseball cap off of Skippy's head, then grabbed him by the collar, jerked him to his feet, and spent a moment dusting the dirt and grass clippings off of his companion, then, with a smile and waggling eyebrows, jerked his head over to a darkened corner of the building.

"Besides," he said as Skippy went ahead of him, already undoing his bowtie, having some difficulty with it despite the fact it was a clip-on due to his trembling fingers, "you need a good, balanced breakfast. And you know Daddy Duke'll feed ya good n' proper, ain't that right?"

He spun Skippy around, the finally unclipped bowtie flying away, and grabbed the front of Skippy's shirt. Despite himself, the younger boy could feel it coming. The unwelcome, unasked-for sensation of arousal that was accompanying Duke's treatment of him with increasing frequency. "Y-Yeah!" he hastily agreed. "You always know what's best for me, Duke!"

"Frickin'-A!" the larger boy said, and took what he wanted, pulling Skippy in close and kissing him deeply. What would've been a slimy reticulated python but for the fact it was inside Duke's mouth forced its way past the shorter squirrel's lips and buck teeth. His feet and tail dangling, Skippy closed his eyes and moaned. Duke didn't. Close his eyes, that is. That was why Skippy had shut his. He didn't like looking into those eyes as they kissed. It creeped him out. He didn't know of anyone else who kissed with their eyes open like that. Every kiss he'd seen in real life and in the movies had both participants locking lips passionately with eyes closed. Not Duke. Or at least that was why Skippy was even now telling himself he'd shut his eyes... but deep down he was sure that it was for another reason. That regardless of how weird and inappropriate it was for Duke to kiss with his eyes open, and as much as Skippy didn't want to awkwardly stare into those heavily-lidded eyes while Duke's tongue invading his mouth, a part of him, the part that was making his stomach do flip-flops and his cock harden and pitch a tent in his shorts, closed his own eyes in reluctant satisfaction. Certainly that was where the moan came from, though he tried to tell himself he was doing that for Duke's benefit.

"Mmmmwaaah," moaned Duke in return as their lips parted briefly, diving back in as he slowly lowered Skippy down again, the much larger squirrel bent over at the waist and forcibly tilting Skippy's head up, one finger rubbing behind his ear affectionaly. Slurp! Their lips parted again, the huge tongue, the main cause of Duke's tendency to lisp, slithering free of the other student's mouth, though Duke didn't stand back up, or move his face away from Skippy's, their lips still brushing against one another slightly, Duke's hot breath, stinking of an unpleasant mixture of mint gum and cigarette smoke washing over Skippy's young upturned face. "Ooohhhh, Slurpy..." Duke said, letting go of Skippy, who kept his head tilted up and back, as those enormous arms, now freed from holding on to the smaller boy, started slowly wriggling free from the sleeves of the softly creaking leather jacket, pectorals tensing and bulging through the thinly-stretched fabric of the dress shirt. "I'm gonna make you so warm and give you such a filling meal..."

"Y-Yes, Duke..." Skippy whispered with a neediness he was ashamed he felt welling up inside him and their mouths met again.

It was going to hurt. A lot. And be utterly humiliating. That never changed. What WAS changing, HAD changed, was the boy's need to have it. To take what Duke, and only Duke, could give him. Their lips came apart with another wet smack so Duke could go "Mwah!" again in an intentionally exaggerated parody of passion. As much as he had wanted to avoid Duke and this encounter with him this morning, and in some ways still did, now that it was inevitable, the thin squirrel student gave himself over to it, and so when their lips met again in a third kiss, Skippy surprised Duke by initiating him, grabbing at the bully's belt, which was adorned with an ornate, custom-made buckle that featured the inscription "Omnes qui Ingrediuntur Desperantibus" with an arrow pointing downward. It was Latin for "abandon all hope, all ye who enter." After he'd had it made, Duke, suspecting it actually said "Duke is a Dork," had asked Skippy if it really said what he'd asked for, and Skippy had said it did. Of course, Skippy's little giggle at Duke's uncertainty had made the bully suspect duplicity, and only Skippy's insistence, brought on by an arm twist later, that whoever engraved the buckle for Duke hadn't cheated him had reassured the bigger boy.

Duke overcame his surprise quickly. To him it seemed inevitable and natural that his plaything would eventually start enjoying it, Skippy being the little fag that Duke always suspected he was, whilst Skippy's internal conflict with what he wanted and what he needed raging on even as he tugged the undressing bully closer and kissed him so deeply that for a moment even Duke in his overeagerness was taken aback and had the briefest of impressions that Skippy was trying to force his entire head into the bully's mouth to force himself down Duke's throat.

He chuckled into the increasingly sloppy kiss, taking both the leather jacket and the blue schoolboy suit jacket underneath it off as well, pulling back long enough to say, "Frickin' knew you'd start likin' this eventually. Though I guess I always knew you did. But it looks like YOU finally know you do, too. Hahahaha!"

At this acknowledgement, Skippy's cheeks flushed hotly, and he jerked back. Still laughing, Duke turned and hung the two jackets he'd just removed from himself on the corner of a particularly filthy-looking, rust-encrusted dumpster that stood by the corner they'd chosen, gently smoothing them out so they hung evenly, and then popped his bowtie off and stuck it into one of their pockets. Slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt and untucking it, Duke said, "Get naked." As proof of how heated things were getting despite the early morning chill, there were sweat stains under the arms of the shirt, and, as he peeled it off, it was obvious that the fur of his broad chest with large nipples and slightly paunchy but still hard belly was damp with sweat. In fact, as Skippy started following Duke's command to undress, he noticed and focused on one particularly large bead of sweat that had collected on the left nipple and slowly dripped down off of it. He shivered pleasantly along with the nipple's owner as the cool air touched it.

Duke's nipples were like everything else about him. Big. Always swollen, it seemed, with a tendency to visibly press out through the any shirt he wore, currently thick and bulging out towards Skippy like twin bullets. Two necklaces dangling around the thick neck on chains. The first had a medallion that said "Duke" in little engraved letters. The other was a crucifix but instead of squirrel Jesus it was a tiny, very naked metal squirrel boy nailed to the cross. Duke called this individual "Poindextrus, the Patron Saint of Nerds." Both necklaces hung neatly nestled between the bulging, damply-furred pectorals topped with their meaty nipples. Belloy that the bully's belly sloped down gently, flabby but still firm, with an innie belly button inside which a little sweat from the heat of Duke's exertions had collected. Thus stripped to the waist, he let the shirt flutter away to the ground.

Skippy hurriedly fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, undoing them before even taking his jacket off. He was eager to get the shirt unbuttoned as quickly as possible so Duke didn't get impatient and just grab either side of it and part it forcibly. Skippy wasn't in the mood to explain to his teacher why his buttons were all torn off if this happened. Fortunately, he was able to get the last button before the impatient bully's enormous hands grabbed the lapels of his jacket and forced both it and the short back, down and off of Skippy, leaving both boys barechested.

Thus exposed above the waistline, Skippy could show to Duke he still bore one of the physical consequences of the fact he never, ever refused the bully anything. His torso was slim, appropriate for his age and lifestyle, flat chest and trim tummy with a deeply set innie belly button that Duke never got tired of looking at. Duke also never got tired of the two other things that were revealed when Skippy took his shirt off. Firstly, like Duke, he had neck adornment. Only one necklace, but it was a necklace similar to Duke's first one, except the medallion said "Duke's" in the possessive, and "Slurpy (is)" on the obverse, a present from Duke on his birthday that year, and, below that was the other thing - two things, in fact - that marked him as the bigger squirrel's property for as long as he chose to wear them, the direct consequence of his decision to never disobey Duke after that fist had been driven into his belly the first time he'd tried refusing his bully turned occasional lover since their relationship had become sexual not long after Duke's "reform."

Skippy's nipples were, in contrast to Duke's, small and petite, but very dark, standing out noticeably against his light-colored chest fur, and both were pierced. A silver nipple ring adorned both. They were made of real silver, too. Or so Duke claimed, anyway. He said he'd used the lunch money he extorted from his other "regulars" to save up to buy them just for Skippy, and had spent a particularly lovely after school evening back at his house with Skippy sitting on the bed slowly piercing each nipple carefully. It was the very first thing Duke had demanded Skippy allow him to do following the full digestion of the delicious knuckle sandwich, and Skippy had not said no.

The only time Skippy took them off was when he went home. God only knew what hell would be rasied if Slappy ever saw him shirtless with the twin silver rings pierced through his nipples! That would raised the same kind of questions ripped off shirt buttons would, questions Skippy didn't want to answer. And so every evening when he came home from school, he went into his room and took them off, but he made sure he had them on when he left to go to school the next morning and even on weekends, as even though Duke never really scheduled their encounters, Skippy, as noted, always had a tendency to run into Duke no matter where he went and what he did, and just as he didn't want to get caught by Slappy with them, he didn't want to get caught by Duke WITHOUT them.

"You're a tall, hot cup a' coffee," Duke said, low, so quietly it was almost a whisper barely audible over the wind gently ruffling through Skippy's headfur.

Skippy couldn't help it and giggled. "Water, Duke," he said, laying an affectionate but trembling hand upon the broad belly before him, "it's 'a tall COOL drink of WATER.'"

"I know that!" grumbled Duke, and considered smacking the caressing hand away, but thought better of it, tolerating this positively faggy display of affection from his favorite victim. "I just meant that since it's a cold mornin', you're more of a hot mug a' java to keep me warm. And believe me, I'm warm!" Indeed, Skippy could see that despite being shirtless in the cool breeze, the older boy wasn't shivering in the slightest, though those big, thick nipples were swollen more than normal, thick and hard. "And I'm positively BURNIN' UP someplace else...!"

So saying, he grabbed Skippy's hand by the wrist so hard there was an audible snap and a sharp pain, and Skippy yelped briefly as Duke shoved his hand down the front of his heans damn near to the elbow. In doing so, he jerked Skippy forward against himself, and Skippy found himself face to face with that impressive belt buckle.

"See? Frickin' FEEL how much you've warmed me up!"

Skippy could indeed. In addition to the firm thickness his fingertips encountered, and were shoved past as his arm went in so deep a perfect outline of his hand was visible through the tight left pant leg of the jeans, there was a damp and muggy heat that filled the pants. Duke laughed and bucked his hips in order to manipulate the trapped arm along his thigh.

"Yeah, your breakfast is juuuuuuust 'bout ready," said Duke, leaning back and raising his arms above his head, continuing to roll his hips in order to cause Skippy's trapped arm to be moved around inside the pants. Despite his bulk, the enormous boy was quite graceful when he wanted to be, and had once joked that if it weren't so gay of a thing to do, he could take up a career as a stripper when he was older and pay his way through college with his earnings. Skippy groaned as he felt his hand slide against the engorged firmness of the bully's still growing penis, and, below that, his heavy balls, both constricted inside the tight jeans and pulsing insistently forward for freedom, straining at the zipper and the gradually weakening button with that gleaming belt buckle above them. Abandon all hope, indeed.

"Oohhh..." Skippy moaned, panting. He was learning to love Duke's "Big Duke Burger," as the other boy called his cock. What it did to him. And what he did to it when Duke let him. But he had no illusions. It was a rare treat that he got to have what his tormentor turned lover called a Duke Burger with a Side of Nuts when Duke fed him breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. No, something else was on the menu for this morning, and the thickly-muscled boy dominating his little friend merely using his physical proximity to him and a few well-chosen, expertly-executed rolls of his thick hips confirmed it when he giggled, actually giggled, in genuine amusement it seemed, as opposed to cruel delight.

"Noooooooooo," Duke said between little giggles, sounding like a father chastising his son who'd given a particularly stupid but endearingly adorable answer to a question, as he felt the fingers probing along him. "That's not your breakfast, you little silly-willy!"

Buck! The hips went back, causing Skippy's hand to slip down over the balls and nestle perfectly between the hard, hot thighs. The heat, the true source of the heat that was pouring up from the depths of the bully's jeans, was closer now. Thrust! Duke grinned broadly as Skippy's hand now squished into hot dampness between a tight, hard cleft. Now it was though Skippy had plunged his arm into a raging swampy inferno.

"Theeeere we go," Duke said, "THAT'S your breakfast! You found it! I knew you would!" He chuckled and then gasped, shivering, and not from the cool air, as one of Skippy's fingers wiggled unintentionly deeper into what he was he was soon to be served up.

"Uuughhhh," groaned Skippy, half whimpering.

"Eager, ain'tcha? Such a hungry, growin' little guy!" said Duke, and one hand came out from where it'd been cradling the back of the bigger squirrel's head to make the movement of his hips more on balance, and stroked roughly but affectionately over Skippy's head, ruffling his hair. "A growin' boy's gotta have his breakfast, Stinky, but don't you get too impatient, now! "You're gonna get it, after I've had MY breakfast! And I'm hungry for somethin' else." He licked his lips. "Besides, I gotta keep my promise. You got ME all warmed up, and now it's my turn to get YOUR body temperature up!" He did an exaggerated wink, his grin spreading so wide now it seemed like it would split his head in two.

He finally allowed to Skippy to extract his arm, which was positively soaked in musky sweat, so much it was damn near dripping. Two hands grabbed the waistband of Skippy's shorts and jerked them down to fall around his ankles, exposing the only underwear Duke allowed him to wear, a child-sized thong that nicely outlined his boyish figure, modestly enveloping his little bits, then rose up over slender hips to split briefly around the base of his enormous, bushy tail to then rejoin underneath it and vanish between small but finely-curved and very firm butt cheeks before finally rejoining the botton of the pouch just under the outline of perfect, round balls. It made of fabric so thin that the little dick straining through it was visible through the almost transparent material.

Where Duke had even gotten a thong sized for a boy Skippy's age, the young squirrel hadn't asked. Despite not being terribly bright, one thing Duke had was lots of money, most of it stolen from his perpetually drunken, useless creep of a father, the rest obtained by literally and figuratively twisting the arms of the younger boys he bullied and more than a few of the boys his own age he helped himself to through sheer physical domination, as well as more than a few actual, honest-to-God robberies that he'd bragged about more than once and which Skippy had no reason to doubt were just empty brags. In addition, for such an otherwise frankly kind of dense boy, another thing that was surprising about Duke beside his grace as a dancer and his secret personal wealthy for a boy his age was that he was actually financially responsible and good at saving up. He didn't waste his money. He saved it for things he really wanted, often things like the nipples rings he'd given Skippy, secret, dirty little things like that, stealing everything else like food, electronics and some clothes he liked from whoever he chose, always unopposed.

As a consequence of the money he had, Skippy had no doubt that Duke could, somehow, get such a skimpy undergarment made for a child only a few years younger than himself by paying a large enough amount to a sufficiently perverted tailor. Skippy still remembered the day Duke had taken his measurements to take to this tailor he never allowed him to meet. Skippy suspected that the reason Duke was loath to let Skippy meet him was because abuse rolled downhill, and that money and money alone wasn't all someone who'd make a thong for a little boy would take as payment for services rendered. And Skippy never pressed the issue, fearing what even IMPLYING that Duke was himself sexually molested would set off, what rage this mere suggestion would unleash from the bully's depths.

"Awww, you look so nice," Duke said, and gave the waistband of the thong a loving little snap, the sting earning another joyfully pained little cry from Skippy. "And now, Skimpy, if you would... drumroll please!"

So saying, Duke again leaned back and provided the drumroll for the unveiling by simultaneously making a surprisingly high-pitched, sloppy trilling by vibrating his large tongue against the roof of his mouth and beating a fierce tattoo against his pecs like King Kong, as the now nearly naked Skippy, trembling, knowing that these playful antics were soon to end and his morning with Duke was about to turn into his own personal hell - an often pleasurable hell, but hell nonetheless - stepped up and began unbuckling the bully's belt, his breath quickening, heart thudding in his puny little chest as the Latin inscription blazed before him. Abandon all hope. Abandon all hope. Abandon. All. Hope.

He did, and undid the buckle, allowing it to hang heavily, and popped the button open, then took the zipper between thumb and forefinger and began tugging it down as Duke, continuing to beat his chest like Kong, making his necklaces jingle audibly, stopped his tongue trilling oral drumroll long enough to cry "UNLEASH... THE... BEAST!" loudly, no longer caring if they were discovered apparently, promptly a suddenly worried Skippy to do a hissing intake of breath through tightly-clenched teeth and risk Duke's wrath by going "Sshhhh!"

Duke ignored him, and just resumed making what he assumed were drumroll noises with his mouth between untrollable fits of laughter while pounding on his chest. Skippy smiled despite his growing fear. His fear of Duke. Of being discovered. Of what his fate was to be momentarily once he had completed this task. He enjoyed this Duke. The playful, almost fun to be around version. He hoped and prayed for his physical well being in the long run that this was, deep down, the real Duke, not the monster he so often acted like.

With a final pull, he could pull the zipper down no further, and the turgid, musky ten inches of unbridled YOUNG MALE didn't so much spill out of the open fly as pop up like the most grotesque jack-in-the-box ever as Duke, sweating, even at this young age already sporting a member nearly the length of Skippy's own arm and getting bigger, beat his chest twice more and grunted with a wild look in his eyes. The beast had been unleashed in more ways than one. In eager worry, Skippy backed up. Duke would take over from here, and with an indifferent push, he sent Skippy flying to spin in place and plant himself face-first against the side of the dumpster, palms planted firmly against the dented metal, glancing back wide eyed, bushy tail raised and twitching, thin legs spread, pert, thong-bedecked rear exposed as he watched, helpless to prevent what was about to happen as Duke bent slightly at the waist, necklaces dangling loosely, and grabbed the waistband of the jeans and with a simultaneous downwards shove and a few twists of his hips, sent them bunching down his legs, which when laid bare were only slightly less thick than his enormous arms, and then he stood erect again, the heavy medallion and crucifix of Poindextrus slapping back neatly into the gentle cleft of the broad pectorals as Duke stepped free from the pushed-down trousers, with all the regal grace and bearing of a Greek god, completely naked, as he wore no underwear that day.

"And now, Skippy Squirrel..." Duke said, that dangerous hint of cruelty tinting his voice, as he grabbed the waistband of Skippy's custom-made thong and ripped it off with a snap, making Skippy jump and gasp, whimpering, "you're gonna moan good n' deep for Daddy Duke, and take it even deeper. You're gonna take the next couple a' days off from school ain'tcha? Yeah, you are, 'cause Duke's gonna frick you so hard that you'll be too sore to stand, let alone walk!"

Skippy didn't know whether to moan in excitement or sob in despair, so he did both as he was seized by the shoulders and felt the firm cockhead rooting underneath the base of his tail. He was Duke's. He knew that. He would endure whatever Duke chose to do to him. Some remaining part of him just wished he didn't have to. But that part had long been silenced and was helpless against the force of nature that was currently pressing his firm stomach up against his back, that stinking, dripping member, far too big for a boy Duke's age, harder than an iron fuckin' pipe, hot dogged between those adorable little squirrelly buns. Skippy sniffled and whimpered, knowing Duke hadn't been joking. He wouldn't walk without agony for at least a day after this.

Duke's grip tightened and the thick fingers dug into Skippy's shoulders. "Annnnnnnnd... BOOM!" he yelled and bucked those hips and firm ass forward, and Skippy's eyes bulged, lips stretching forward to purse into a little round hole accompanied by a sudden, high-pitched cry of "Ooooooooooo!" as his body was split open by Daddy Duke's big thick dick. The grunting bully slid in with minimal effort, like a hot knife sliding into butter, so puny was Skippy before the monstrous power of the enormous squirrel bully. Duke lolled his tongue out as he bottomed out into the boy, balls deep in his very first, single thrust, balls swinging heavily between his legs. "Awwwww, yeaaahhhh... oohhhhhh, Slurpy... Gawwwddd, you're always so tight for me! Just for me!"

"Just for you, Duke!" Skippy managed to squeal, blurting out the truth in pained pleasure as the bully took him and used him. Like a little squirrel boy like me should be, Skippy thought to himself, sobbing, knowing the truth, understanding his place despite all the hot tears rolling down his cheeks, and all the hot tears to come. "Fuck me, Duke!"

"Awww, I'm gonna frick you soooo haaaardddd! Your ass is already as good as destroyed, so get ready to make a lotta noise for me!"

So saying, he pulled himself out slightly, then slammed back in with all the force of a freight train, pushing the breath out of Skippy, forcing his thick cock into Skippy's overly stretched little pucker and fucking his ass. He thrusted and humped, using the smaller boy as his personal cock sleeve. Tears rolled down Skippy's cheeks. Duke worked up a good tempo. Each powerful thrust from those big hips making the twin necklaces 'round the thick neck jangle, each deep hilt banged Skippy's naked form against the hard metal of the dumpster and knocked the boy silly. This was how the other boy had gotten that cut above his eyebrow that had needed stitches. Duke had fucked him against a brick wall so forcefully his head had collided against it during one particularly powerful thrust and nearly split open.

And throughout it all, little Skippy's little cock was a stiff nub of utterly shameful arousal, rubbing against the dumpster, leaving little trickles and smears of precum. He panted and moaned like the slutty little schoolboy whore Duke had always known he was and had taken for his very own, demanding, and receiving, the younger student's total loyalty and submission. It wasn't long before Skippy came. After all, there wasn't much his body could do against the monster that Duke was pushing into into him before his the gathering storm clouds of his mounting orgasm burst. With a shrill little squeal, Skippy came, his cock spasming and squirting forth a surprisingly large amoung of thick boy spunk to splatter across the side of the dumpster he was being pounded against.

"Yer gonna do this for me whenever I want, or I'm gonna twist your arm 'till it breaks! Ya got that?!" Duke snarled, one hand reaching down and around to tweak a nipple and play with one of the silver rings. He'd said this before, of course, but either he forgot in the heat of passion or felt the need to reassert himself. Skippy nodded, panting hard as he was spread and slammed against the side of the dumpster, and Duke smirked cruelly, and continued tormenting Skippy's nipple by tugging on the ring, continuing to thrust into his little lover so hard it seemed as though he was hellbent on fucking him right through the metal side of the dumpster, and it wasn't long before he hit his own climax. He closed his eyes and knitted his heavy, twisting his mouth into something akin to a grimace, and threw back his head, releasing Skippy's nipple ring to grab him about the waist and haul him up to hold him up against himself as tight and as close as possible. "RRrr-raaaaaahhhhhh!" he bellowed out like a dinosaur, balls tensing and pulling up slightly, as he buried himself inside Skippy until the bottom of his slight paunch was flush with the top of Skippy's buttocks, and emptied his boiling hot, liquid love deep, deep inside of that well used little body.

"Guhhhhhh..." Duke panted, tongue lolling, hugging the little squirrel against his big chest as he kept bucking up into him. Now that his orgasm had passed, he was coming back up from the depths of sexual madness, and Skippy knew the beast would resurface soon, but he could only hang panting in that powerful embrace speared on that huge cock splitting him open.

Gradually, he pulled free, that sensitive member slowly sliding out until the big bulbous head popped free with a lewd "schlorp," squirrel cum running freely down the insides of Skippy's legs. Duke buried his face against Skippy's thin neck where it met the shoulder, biting and kissing, as he lowered the boy down to the ground. The second Skippy's feet touched the cool grass, he would've collapsed if Duke hadn't held him erect. He was right. Although it'd been short, that fuckfest had been so powerful that there was no way Skippy was going anywhere under his own power, at least for a while.

Duke held him this way for a moment, before asking, his voice slightly muffled as he kept his face pressed firmly into the younger male's neck, "You okay...?" Skippy managed a weak but somewhat enthusiastic nod, and with a smirk, Duke let go, allowing Skippy to fall forward, laughing as Skippy tried, failed to support himself by leaning against the dumpster and slid down to his knees, but even they were trembling too much to hold his weight for long. As he panted and groaned, Duke grabbed his shoulder, fingers digging in again, and jerked him backwards, partially to his feet again, then shoved him down to sprawl in the mercifully soft grass, which felt cool against his damp, sweaty fur.

"Bet yer hungry after a ride like that," Duke said, swinging one leg over to plant a foot firmly on the ground on either side of Skippy's sprawled form, so that when Skippy looked up, his view was up the thick legs spread directly above his head, the dripping, spent but still hard cock, and Duke rising even further above that.

"I promised you a hearty breakfast. Hush now and eat up," Duke said softly, and then turned with all the grace of a ballet dancer, so that now the prone boy's view was of the bully's rock hard ass cheeks with his fluffy squirrel tail above it, and, rising above that, Duke's broad, powerful back, his face smirking over one shoulder. Slowly, the huge hands pressed against Duke's sides and slid down with a torturous slowness, before moving back upon reaching his hips, to dig the thick fingertips of one hand into the crack of that perfect ass. Duke grunted, and then squatted down low over Skippy's face. He pulled one shapely glute aside to expose his puckered asshole and sweaty crack to the male beneath him, and used his other hand to reach back and around himself to scoop Skippy's head into his palm, bringing it up so that the tired face face rose to meet the lowering ass, his bushy tail draping almost daintily over Skippy's head, hiding it, and what Skippy was to do, from view. "Eat up for Duke."

That huge ass edged closer and closer, with the bully smirking over his shoulder at the younger squirrel lying sprawled beneath him. Skippy ate his breakfast, the "salad" of musky asshole, sweat and stink, kissing, sucking and licking the puckered opening, drinking the sweat pouring directly down through the asscrack. "Yeah, you little dork, you like other dudes' butts, don'tcha? Ya like my butt! Butt for breakfast!" Duke giggled.

"Mmmphhh-mmmuuuppphhhh..." Skippy replied muffledly.

"Oooh, uh-oh, looks like Mighty Kong has risen from his slumber once more!" moans Duke as his cock stiffened further and rose up once again. Duke moaned and stroked himself as he wiggled his butt on Skippy's face, forcing the smaller boy to lick out his asshole. He came fiercely for the second time that morning, shooting a thick arc of jizz through the air to splatter in the grass. Panting, he gave another little wiggle of his ass, saying, "Good job, dork. Here's a little morsel of dessert for ya." He grunted and gave a wet little fart directly into Skippy's open mouth, and then got off of Skippy. Unsurprisingly, he discovered that the smaller squirrel was still hard as fuck from every second of it.

"See?" Duke said with a playful little wink as he stepped forward so that he was no longer standing over him. "A nice, big breakfast, just for you. I always take such good care of you, now, don't I?"

"Uhhh..." groaned Skippy, licking his lips, ashamed of the hunger he'd had for Duke's deliciously putrid ass, so sexy, firm and musky with the perfect stink of hormonal manliness. "Uh-huh..." He burped, having gulped a lot of air along with generous helpings of Duke's butt sweat. "Excuse me..." he mubled reflexively.

This made Duke double over in laughter. "Hahahahaha! Man, that aunt of yours really did teach ya such good manners didn't she?"

Skippy's only response was to writhe on the ground and moan as he touched himself and jerked his painfully hard cock. Duke watched this development with deep and abiding interest and more than a little amusement as he got himself dressed again. He took his time. Taking a moment to compose himself, he slowly grabbed his jeans and pulled them back on, grunting as he stuffed his still sensitive member back inside and zipped up, redoing the button. He left the buckle undone for the moment as he went and grabbed his shirt, shaking it out to rid it of any grass clippings or specks of dirt, pulling it on and doing the buttons up one by one as he watched Skippy still writhing naked before him in neediness, but Duke had taken what he needed from him and given him what he'd promised, and that was all his little lover was getting for the moment. He coughed and finished buttoning up the shirt. As it was warming up, he opted to leave the final button undone so that the shirt was open at the throat, and he left the bowtie in the pocket of one of his jackets. For the same reason, he elected to just wear one jacket and chose to pull the less heavy blue one on.

Stuffing the other hand into the pocket of his jeans to play a little pocket pool, he looked down at the writhing mess that was his fellow squirrel. "Man, you really can't help yourself around me, can you, Cummy?" he said, watching the younger boy beating off with mindless carnal fury. "Heh, you really are a slutty little mess, ain'tcha...?" So saying, planted one foot against Skippy's little cock and ground it gently underfoot, careful not to apply too much of his considerable weight, but enough to squish Skippy into an eruptive orgasm, crying out as he came, and to Duke the visual was like stepping on a tube of toothpaste and causing the contents to come spurting out.

"Done...?"

Panting, Skippy nodded and Duke removed his foot, then got down down on his knees with thighs on either side of Skippy. "Cage the beast..." Weak, trembling arms slowly rose, and Duke smirked with amusement at how long it took the weak little squirrel to redo the belt buckle. "Do what I say. Always do what I say and I'll take good care of ya, faggot." This was something else he had told Skippy before but often repeated. Rising, he groped along the buckle to ensure Skippy had managed to get it clapsed firmly, enjoying the feel of the Latin engraving against his fingertips. "Now I just need ya to stand up for a quick sec. Don't worry, you can lean against me. I'll support ya. For a bit, anyway."

He took Skippy's arm and pulled him to his feet, and allowed the boy to lean against him, then scooped the naked form into his arms. "Can't have you goin' home like this. And you certainly can't go into class." Cradling the barely conscious naked form in one arm, he walked to the dumpster he'd fucked him against and flung the lid up. "You can rest in here. I'll be back for ya later. I'll tell teach that you were just feelin' sick." Before Skippy had a chance to respond, he flung the lid indifferently back down with an echoing bang. Grabbing his leather jacket, he dangled it over one shoulder and down his back on one hooked finger as he walked to class, leaving Skippy's backpack and clothes lying where they'd landed. "See you later, Sticky."

The End.