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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.

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, Drama, Story, Long, Anal, Oral, Incest, cub-play)

[Any foreign language portrayed in this story is done at the author (my self's) expense and readers bare in mind that they are not my primary language and please do not correct me on translations unless it's pertinent]

((Author's Note: I am very sorry for the delay in the publication of this installment. I will try not to take so long in the future. Real Life sucks sometimes))

* * *

TALES FROM APARTMENT 232 - Part 21, "Back in Black"

* * *

"He what?!"

"He withheld information from us both, and because of that I had to let him go."

"Alex you idiot, that man knows your most intimate secrets and has credibility! You have to keep an eye on that fat tub of lard before that tub springs a leak and we all end up drowning in fat! How could you be so stupid!"

"Stupid? He was the one that was insulting my intelligence by holding back information from me."

"Spare me your whining and your sniveling over something that's utterly unimportant. I don't care if your inelegance was insulted, it deserves to be mocked if you can't control your own subordinates!"

A smack resounded in the bedroom the pair shared, as Spike backhanded Alex. Spike and Alex had been discussing the plans for the day that morning, when Alex had revealed Fabian's lamentation. Spike, naked as the day he was born, stood over the equally unclad rabbit, which looked up in fear at his mate.

"Do I have to do everything myself? Do I have to think of everything myself? It occurs to me that I just might have to if you continue to slip up like this Alex."

"I just...thought..."

Spike groaned and threw his hair back, this time a blood red. He gripped a large hunk of it in his hand and stared down at his husband in exasperation. "That's the thing Alex, when you think it interferes with what I have in mind and I can't have my plans going off with flaws. Look at what you've done, you've unleashed a liability on the world that knows who I am and knows what you've done. Say he decides to talk and then where will you be - without me that's what. Don't think that I'll drop you like a bad habit if I think there's a chance that the feds are going to get me. You know I got the death penalty waiting for me pretty much everywhere I turn, and I won't let you fuck this up for me."

Alex bit his lips and said "Darling...we got the location of his kid, we just have to get the kid alone, and we own the Morningstar and it's back to the way things were."

Spike sighed and sit back on the bed, lowering his face into his hands. "Are you dumb and deaf? It wont matter if the fat boy squawks. He is our first priority. I think it's time to end his pathetic and annoying existence."

Alex stood up and his lips quivered. "Now see here -"

But Alex was cut off by a piercing gaze from the mink, the most disarming gaze Alex has ever had to stare down. "What? What would you like me to see?"

Alex mustered up his courage and leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his nude body. "Look I can take care of the fatass, but I'd appreciate you not killing him. I've known him my whole life and he's...kind of valuable to me."

"He needs to be silenced! He needs to learn that if he talks there will be consequences." Spike said, staring Alex right in the eyes.

"And he will just please let him be. Remember if it wasn't for him we wouldn't know where the kid is."

"Don't remind me. I want to forget that my own men were incompetent where as the product of that fat man's semen - those whelps - found the little freak instead."

"Well by all accounts, we have no reason to dislike the kid. He's only in our path because we need him as leverage. I personally don't see any problems he's caused me or my family, but we do need the Fox more than anything at this moment."

"Yes...I know Alex...dearest. I was raised on the streets not in an asylum. Tell me, did growing up in that corporate tower where the air was too thin affect your brain growing up as a child or did you have to work to achieve this level of retardation?! Why don't I go ask your little brother the walking side-show what he thinks we should do."

Alex sighed and broke out in sobs before he slumped down to the floor, defeated. "Look I'm sorry I..."

"Shut up. I don't have time for your pathetic emotions. Now I have to clean up this mess you made, and make it look shinier than before. Now while I go do that and play with the big boys, try to keep the kiddies under your foot. So help me if we have one more little transgression I'm pulling out - and I don't mean that as just a metaphor."

Spike stood and grabbed his torn jeans, not even bothering to put on undergarments, and slipped on his denim vest as he walked out the bedroom door, slamming it shut behind him, leaving the head of one of the largest companies in American history in shambles.

Good.

Spike moved back the lumberjack like bodyguards Heckyl and Jeckyl whom were busy playing craps in the hallway, and by the looks of it Jeckyl was winning. He scolded them for fucking around on the job, and took the elevator down; the noise from the construction above was already aggravating him. Down in the lobby, which was filled with spacious couches and televisions to make the investors feel welcome, sat a mink that looked identical in almost every practical sense of the word, but yet was different. Wearing leather snakeskin pants, and a fishnet shirt, covered by a black carheart jacket laced with spike and rock band patches, was the mink, reading the obituaries section of the newspaper.

"Anyone we know?" Spike said as he maneuvered his way over to the young man.

The other mink shook his head, and set down the newspaper, before he stood up, and made sign-language for: "You came down awfully quick, is something wrong?"

Spike sighed. "It's the rabbit. You know as good as I am I think he's only into me for the sheer thrill he gets off of my domination. Realistically I kicked down his door and started running things from day one when he came to Los Angeles, and now he can't even seem to think anymore. Perhaps it's time we do things differently."

The second mink nodded and gestured to the outside, from there, the pair of near-identical twin minks moved to a ruddy old Gremlin, and slipped inside, the second mink sitting in the passenger side, while Spike took the driver's position. The car started with a sputter, and drove away from the tower under construction, headed out back towards my old neighborhood near Tumbler street on the east side. "Can you believe he let that fat rabbit go? Oh that's right you haven't heard yet. The fat rabbit held information from us, and jumped out because the pool got too hot. And Alex is content to let this rabbit be alone."

The second mink signed, and Spike watched out of the corner of his eye. "So, you mean he's a ticking bomb that could hurt us?"

"Precisely my pet. At least you understand me."

He signed a bit pleasantly, appreciating the compliment. "Thank you, you did raise me and give me life."

"That I did, and you appreciate that. Here, I have given the rabbit a new life and he doesn't seem to appreciate the work that I do for him. It's give and take Morbious my sweet child - for as god has given you life thanks to my help he has taken your ability to speak, and where as god has given Renee a second chance I will take that away from him as well."

Morbious nodded and sighed, before signing, "Just once I'd like to be able to say words, like you, but I suppose, this makes me a better trustee because I can never speak your secrets."

"Just hope that they never figure out that you're mute pet and you'll be fine. Now, I feel like killing someone, and I know just where to go."

"What do you have in mind?" Morbious signed.

"We are going to head for the arena, it seems we've been neglecting a certain wolf in our plan."

Morbious smiled malevolently and rubbed his hands together. "Shall I get the old girl ready?" He sighed swiftly.

"Yes, I want her cleaned and prepped by the time we get there, and I do suggest you use those nimble hands of yours to stop talking and to start working, because I don't feel like taking the scenic route."

* * *

"Oh my god!"

Neil thudded against the wall, because I was the one shoving him up against it. I aggressively moved my mouth over his, and locked us in a passionate kiss, breathing lewdly through my nose as I swiftly undid my shirt from the night before when I had landed. Father had surprised me by bringing Neil to his home, and as thus I surprised Neil by kissing him as such.

Father escorted Cyric to another portion of the house while my hands roamed the form of my slightly overweight rat as if I'd never touched him before. Neil's hands stayed braced against the wall, but his tongue batted back at mine when he brought his eyes to a close, letting out a breath he'd been holding as a result of what I was doing.

I shrugged the shirt swiftly off my shoulders and pressed my naked chest up against his dressy business shirt, before that too came undone - a hard and aggressive rip tearing the buttons from the shirt that was probably worth more than my whole outfit. I didn't care. Neil yelped as I moved my mouth off of his and down onto his now bared chest. He was loosing weight, and he was showing it, his belly was receding, and he was becoming firmer. I moved my mouth over his right nipple and kissed and sucked and nuzzled and caressed it, earning a long groan from him. Little did he know I wouldn't be there long; for even as I kissed and licked, I undid his belt, and let his pants drop to the floor, bringing my hands to the front of the boxer briefs he wore.

"Oh god save the queen..." Neil muttered to himself as he moved his hands onto my head, and moved them in an appreciating manner about my face and hair, mussing it up but that didn't matter. I dropped fully to my knees, and drove my face swiftly into his crotch, nuzzling and licking the musky fabric. I could smell that they were clean, but now they were ripe with the odor of his arousal. I hadn't felt this sexually alive in ages, and my tattoo felt like a cool ice on my body for some odd reason, and I had to think that it had to deal with the pep-talk I'd earned from my savior. But that was hardly anywhere in my mind as I fished my husband's nice prick out of it's hiding spot and let it spill into my mouth. It was hot, fleshy, and salty...and alive with the pulsing sensation of someone whom had gone without sex for a rather long time.

"Oh yes...Renee don't stop..."

And I didn't, I moved my mouth to collect the penis in an angle that I liked, and I began to move it in and out of my muzzle. My hands maneuvered their way up the back of his legs and gripped his buttocks firmly, holding them adoringly. I held his butt in my hands, kneading the soft and fuzzy flesh underneath the garment, while my mouth allowed itself to be filled by my husband's shaft.

I moved my muzzle around, about, up and down the length of Neil's rod of flesh, worshiping it like it was the idol of a god. Neil's legs quivered and trembled a little bit underneath the tedious administrations of my affection. My hands eventually moved off of his rear, and tugged down his boxer briefs, momentarily blocking access to his sweet cock, before I put it back where it belonged. I hugged Neil's strong legs against my naked chest, and rapidly attacked his groin with my face, sucking and sucking and sucking.

I could feel his sperm filled scrotum slapping me on the chin, and I decided to give them a little taste of their own medicine. I pulled off the cock, and opened my mouth wide, and sucked the balls into my mouth, earning a scream of pleasure overload from my husband who writhed and pulled on my hair like it would help ease what he was going through. The rough handling of my head only fueled my sexual lust further, and forced me to roll the balls around in my mouth. Not many can understand how sensual that is, to hold the very wells of life inside your mouth and let them dance upon your tongue.

Neil's prick spat a bit of precum on my face, getting it all stained and gooey, just how I liked it. I moved off of his scrotum, and stood up, dropping my pants and my thong. I pulled Neil over towards the couch, and I bent over it. Neil caught on quickly and raised my tail, and stroked himself to a firmer erection and rubbed his head against my hole. "Love have ye had anything up there? This could hurt..."

"I don't care, put it in me!" I begged. I really didn't bottom for Neil that much but it was kind of a 60/40 thing. Neil obliged and slid his cock slowly into my hole. It actually went in as smooth as if I was pre lubed and stretched. My husband's fat but shorter length was a welcome feeling inside my bowels, a welcome girth. Neil didn't have much of his belly anymore, so he was actually able to get in a bit deeper, leaning over me and starting to pound my rear. The room was silent other than our grunting, and the sound of his hips slapping my fanny, and our occasional masculine grunts.

"That's it, fuck me baby, fuck me my husband!"

And that he did. He reached down and held my foxhood in his hand, and stroked it slowly, knowing that I can actually get off easier on a more tender approach when it came to handjobs than the fast rapid jerk. Neil was grunting and groaning, leaning over me and using me as his pleasure device, and I was eating it all up. My hair was staring to fall in my face, having come undone from the rough handling of my head; every thrust of Neil's cock into me only made my hairdo more ruined. I moved my hands forward and collected a couch pillow and bit into it, screaming happily as Neil started to pound my spot, something really only he and my dad could ever do. I screamed over and over again into the fabric of the pillow, biting hard into it when Neil's hand picked up it's pace on my cock. I didn't even notice how far along I was, and that I was going to cum much sooner than I had expected.

I spat out the pillow and had Neil stop, before I helped him duck walk to the couch, and I went missionary underneath him, pulling him on top. I wanted to look into his eyes. I wrapped my arms and legs around his back, pulling his glasses off and tossing them over my shoulder without care, and brought us into a kiss. Neil's tongue danced with mine as our lips repeatedly closed on one another and brought our mouths closer and closer. I jerked, and kicked, and screamed as I was ejaculating from all the pleasure I was getting. My orgasm was swift, but strong, coating our bodies with my fox seed.

Neil paused to collect a handful, and pulled out, rubbing it onto his prick, and jammed himself back into me. The sudden change made me yelp, my hot rat bringing himself fully on top of me, bending me over forwards, moving my cock in front of my own face while it still spat cum. I leaned out, and held my tongue extended to collect some of my own precious sexsauce, just as I felt my own bowels expand and fill with the unmistakable sensation of my husband cumming inside of me.

We both moaned at the top of our lungs, as we were spent for the moment. Neil lowered himself on top of me, and I adjusted us so he could lay on top of me, his business shirt still on, the only form of a covering he still wore. I slipped my hands up the back of it, and smiled up at my life mate.

"Wow Renee, that was good...so good...I missed that...I missed you."

"And I missed you too, it's been so long." I said as I locked him into another kiss. We kissed for a few minutes, before we laid on the couch like that and were joined by my father. He'd dressed down to a banana yellow brief, and a black Gold's Gym tank top and sat down, pulling my head into his lap.

"Sorry hope you don't mind if I squeeze in with you guys."

"Not at all Mr. Arran." Neil said softly, curling his fingers in my chest fluff.

"How was it?" Dad asked. I could feel his erection against the left part of my face, and I nuzzled it, having missed the feeling of his sex as well.

"It was just what we needed, and you can bet I've got a lot more fucking to do now that I'm home."

"I certainly hope so...I could get used to this again." Neil laughed before dozing off against my chest. Dad grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over the two of us, meanwhile I began to lick at his crotch, earning a low groan from him.

"Now that's enough for now Renee. I want to save our time together for tonight. I want to do something just the 3 of us: you me and Cyric."

"Oh? Like what?"

"A threesome. 3 generations of Morningstars in one bed, all together in passion."

I smiled and liked that idea. "Is the tyke going to be okay with this? I'm worried he's mad at me for leaving."

"No one here is mad at you for leaving, we all just worried about you. But now that we can get the gang back together, it's going to be back to old tricks and all that."

"Well that's good. I want to spend some time with as many of you all as I can today. I got a lot of pent up sperm to give, and rear that needs a few good men if you get my drift."

"I'm sure you won't have much trouble finding willing organ donors." Dad laughed, before kissing me and the dozing rat. Neil moaned softly in his sleep, and hugged me tighter, expelling a little bit more sperm into my rear.

"Nnnnn ohh he's still cumming a little bit." I said, looking up at my dad.

"Oh? Wow. Perhaps he just expels it over a longer period of time, that must feel nice."

"Well his body is my exclusive property, that's one thing I always loved about him; I can be a slut, but he'll always be mine."

"Sounds fair. I had an idea I wanted to discuss with you while you were somewhat captive Renee."

"Oh? Am I going to like this?" I asked, lowering my brows a bit.

"Perhaps, and perhaps not. I want you to contact The Lotus and procure his services."

I almost sat up right then, bit instead, I just sighed deeply. "Dad you make it seem like I can just stroll up to his front door and ask him to help me. I did that once, and it got him shot. I'm sure getting shot wasn't any fun for you, so do you expect Ishanka to be all cheeks and smiles when he sees me? Besides he had that case he just went through."

"But he was acquitted on all charges revolving around Jeice's death wasn't he?"

"It still doesn't help that he lost a lot of money and reputation points because he was in the public eye like that. Ishanka really doesn't like negative publicity, and only makes TV appearances once in a great while. This all comes back to me and Alex so who knows how he feels about me?"

"There's only one way to find out child." Dad said as he offered me a cigarette. I wanted it but refused, gesturing to the sleeping rat on my chest.

"Well I don't like the idea of doing it, but I'll do it later in the evening when he wakes up. Sometimes right after he wakes up he's a little easier to deal with."

"I don't know him personally, you do, otherwise I'd do it myself."

"Well," I began, trying to figure out how to continue. When I decided on how to finish, I said. "Lotus is a deep thinker, and is a man that doesn't forget things easily. I still don't think he's going to be apt to assist us. Why do you want to use him anyway?"

"I want to do what you failed to do to Michael Fletcher. I want to subject Alex to the kind of administrative punishment that only Ishanka can bestow."

I blinked, and shuddered slightly, remembered what happened to the last person Ishanka had punished. "Alex will be a tough one to break."

"Who better to break him than the master of masters, the dom of all dom's?"

I sighed seeing that I wasn't going to be able to convince my father against this course of action, and nodded. "Like I said I'll go see him this afternoon."

"Good. Now be a good fox son, and get back to work, just save that pretty cock of yours for us won't you?"

Dad said before he stood up, and swished his hips out of the room. I didn't know if it was possible, but dad had put on even more muscle, and looked like a god strolling out of the room. Neil had to adjust because of something suddenly stabbing his stomach.

* * *

The Staples Center in Los Angeles was packed in anticipation of tonight's BlackBall game between the LA Hoods and their division rival, the Boise Bombers. Rowdy, since the whole Sparky incident, never left the side of his bodyguards except when he was to be on the court. Everyone seemed to be getting in shape and I felt kind of guilty being the slacker - Rowdy was no exception.

Rowdy and the other wolves of the Hoods were all hard at work practicing, which of course left the parking lot wide open.

Four men sat at a Starbucks across the street from the arena, scanning the parking lot with binoculars. The store owner was under their employ, so they had no reason to worry about scanning the lot with the staff staring right at them.

"I don't see it. You said it was a supped up CRX?"

"Yes...that's what he was driving." Spike said, his accent thick, Manchester.

The four lowered their specs, and looked at one another. Morbious was on the far left, and two men separated him from his creator Spike. One was a tall and athletic giraffe, wearing a black hoodie and matching black jeans, and the other was a jackal, covered from head to toe in scars that looked like tally marks - wearing a set of tight leather pants and a matching leather tunic. Not the most inconspicuous two, but they got the job done.

He giraffe was known only as Joey. Joey's bag was arson, anything revolving with fire. Joey was responsible for over 33 fires in the state of California alone, and over a dozen deaths. No one knew Joey was the spark behind the fires, but they knew his style.

The Jackal had done it all, and was one of Spike's best men. He was the one in charge of Los Angeles operations before Spike had come. A man of too many aliases to count, he had chosen the name of Axe to use for the time being. Axe happened to be the cruel pimp and crime boss that Jason had once warned me about. Each slash was a life that he had claimed, and his record was second only to Spike and his lust for killing.

Spike was last to lower the binoculars, and set them next to his triple mocha espresso. "So...we're in agreement."

Joey nodded and looked down at the others. Close to 10 feet tall with how tall his neck was, he was definitely a giant. "I don't see us hitting the inside. That place is going to be much tighter than the Nascar race."

"You weren't there for the Nascar race though." Axe said in his gruff, near-mumble of a voice.

"Yeah but I know buildings and people. They're going to have that place crawling with security because they want to keep the outsiders out."

Spike nodded and said. "That's fine, I don't want to get inside - like I said. I want to plant a cherry on Mr. McDowell's vehicle. I want to see him fry."

The Jackal turned towards Spike and said. "I could lay low and just gut him when he gets close."

The giraffe shook his head a bit more violently. "Heh, not very likely. You may be the wizard of knives and blades, but trust me you're not getting any closer that wolf than you are now. He's going to hold up inside as long as he can milk it, and then sneak out. Our best chances are to hit his car or truck."

"And we've been scanning this parking lot together for almost half an hour, and we haven't turned up anything that resembles our target car."

Spike grumbled. "Then we go to plan B, we search car by car for the next closest car. Knowing wolves, they're all about bling. Rowdy is the so called star of this team after last season, so I'm sure we find the most tricked out truck there it must belong to him."

Morbious signed "Works for me."

The three turned towards him as if he had appeared out of thin air, and then looked back at one another. "So what kind of device will we be using Joey? Your standard cherry?" Axe asked off handed.

Joey was now in his element, and turned his neck around slowly without moving his shoulders, looking at the desk clerk. "I think you'd better go check the back for that mint flavor you guys get ever so often." He said as the startled clerk swiftly went into the back before Joey moved his head around forward and resumed looking at the group. "That depends. I'm in the mood for a big fire, and lots of damage. The problem is with incendiaries is you get a lot of flame and a nice boom, but you don't get much collateral. But, on the other hand if one were to use a fragmentation style device, that sends out lots of shrapnel and that leaves evidence."

Spike grumbled. "Make a big enough explosion and by then it wont matter - take out all the surrounding cars and then the evidence is going to be marred."

Joey shook his head. "Spike I know you're blood thirsty, and I have a major hard-on right now over the idea of setting fire to someone or something, but you have to think logistically here. There are three styles of minor bombs: incendiary, concussion, and fragmentation. Then on top of that you have 3 levels that I prefer to work with: personal, public, and terrorist level."

The other three nodded. "I'm with you, go on..." Spike said.

"What you want to do, is you want to take out one specific target, but you also don't mind collateral damage - Hence the public level. Private level is like opening up a letter bomb or a package that blows your head off - even if your mate is holding your hand right next to you the most they get is spattered with gore and perhaps deafened by the bang and traumatized for life. Public bombs are your bombs that can take out a house, or an apartment, or your standard gook mart. They're meant to take out 3-20 people at a time, you hear about these all the time in Baghdad and Israel. But terrorist level is when you don't have a specific target and you want to take out as many people as possible; such case you get big bombs, with lots of damage in the hopes that people are caught in the radius or get torn to bits by flying debris, or have the building come down on top of them."

Once more the three nodded to the giant.

"So what you're proposing is borderline terrorist level, but at the maximum of a public assassination as possible. Anything higher than what I plan on using and you get different police on the matter. If you use what I'm going to use, it stays local."

Spike smiled. "Now you're thinking."

Joey nodded. "Spike, I've been in the ARMY Corps of Engineers for almost 15 years, I know my laws, and I know my explosives. So what I propose, what I call the Disco Inferno. It starts hot then it spreads out like a fever and burns itself out. What I plan on using is a traditional ignition triggered incendiary explosive that will take out the owner of the car or whoever is going to be driving it. Then...on a 2 minute timer, we have the shrapnel device that will take out any other teammates or bystanders that rush to help. I think I'll work a 4 way cluster of claymore style devices around the inside of the car."

Spike grinned much wider as he savored the mental picture in his head. Rowdy walks with his bodyguards and slips inside of the car, they don't notice the device at all, and when the car fails to start they aren't worried. Then comes the brilliant and noisy fireball that will incinerate the wolf and his bodyguards instantly, rendering them char-broiled corpses. Then as shocked and surprised onlookers rush over to help battle the blaze, while possibly Rowdy is maybe still alive and screaming helplessly as he burns to death, the second device would explode and send nice little pieces of metal and ball bearings through their bodies. It was a cacophony of catastrophe, a carnival of carnage and Spike was the gleeful ringmaster.

"Do you have such devices on you?" Axe asked.

"My truck is filled with enough explosives and the materials to create - if necessary - a low-yield nuclear device. I constructed my first one last year thanks to the ARMY."

Spike cackled a bit and placed his hands on his hips. "To think, what this country teaches its men: to kill, to destroy, and to decimate it's enemies both foreign and domestic and then gives them the tools to do so. Do they realize that the interpretation of enemy doesn't necessarily mean whom the government determines its enemies, but whom the individual can cast as its enemy. That's what I always loved about Jolly Ol' England...we British just considered anyone but ourselves our enemies and even then we were wary of one another at the same time."

Axe blinked, as if Spike had been discussing a cookie recipe the whole time and hadn't been saying anything relevant, and looked up at Joey. "You're telling me, you can construct a Nuke?"

"Almost anyone can, you can download the instructions for it off the internet. Me, I was trained how to make one, and I made one that the ARMY has now. But if I needed to make another one I could."

Axe blinked again and shuddered. "I fear for the third-world country you take over someday."

Joey laughed. "Nuke's aren't my style, it makes one big fire yes, but it goes out too quick. I love long burning fires. Napalm and magnesium powder, Greek fire...those are my favorite toys."

Axe for the only time in his life that anyone in that room would ever recall, showed fear. Axe did tours in Vietnam, and was as salty and seasoned as any gangster, but some things still disturbed him.

"Lets get to work." Morbious signed, gesturing to the cars.

The group nodded and took their coffee drinks with them, and began the long task of fanning the parking lot, combing the thousands of cars and trucks one by one. The thought had occurred to Spike that the manager at the Starbucks would rat them out, however a cool 25 grand shut him up. He was glad that Alex's checks didn't bounce, and that he didn't ask questions when his account activity jumped more than he realized.

And another thought occurred to Alex as he scanned over the multitude of cars in the lot. It was Rowdy's involvement with the roommates of apartment 232 that had driven Asher away from Michael, as Alex told him. Spike had never met the other Fletcher and didn't realize that Michael was socially abrasive, awkward, and was downright rude to me and my friends. So Spike couldn't really judge Rowdy. As I saw it and see it even to this day, Rowdy came into Asher's life at just the right time, and the pair just found one another.

But now Rowdy was in mortal danger. Spike narrowed in on a large Cadillac SUV. It was definitely "pimped out" to say the least. It was black with chrome spinner rims, extra lights, blacked out windows, custom license plate covers, and the works. The plates read "Hoodzcr", which Spike figured meant "Hoodz Center", Rowdy's position. Communicating with cellular phones, the 4 men converged on the SUV.

"So this is it?" Morbious signed.

"Looks like it to me, fucking wolves love this kind of shit. It's the biggest and most blinged out car on the lot, and that seems like Rowdy."

Joey moved in with his duffel bag and his rolling work bed. "Good thing these SUV's ride high, big guy like me...fucking hate having to squeeze under some little pussy ass car. Now, you boys make sure no one interrupts - one false slip with this and we all become a bit toasty."

"Please refrain from messing up then." Spike said. "I'd surely hate to have to kick your ass in hell for the rest of eternity, you do such good work."

"Well let me see to it." Joey said, pulling off his hoodie, and stripping half naked from the waist up, revealing his average body. He laid himself down on the rolling cart and slid his way around while the three leaned against the neighboring Dodge Ram pickup as if it was theirs, and produced cigarettes to smoke.

Joey went in, using his tools to connect the bomb to the battery, which would trigger the ignition of the device which he attached to the undercarriage. This proved most difficult without jimmying the hood, but with the use of wires, and long medical tools he was able to make the connection without even touching the car. One thing he loved about his neck, was that he could occasionally peak out from under the car without scooting out.

The device itself was going to be a complicated setup. The first half of the device was attached under the fuel tank and would ignite the fuel. But this would also prove difficult for the second stage which was the shrapnel device. He would have to incase it in heat resistant metal that would be able to encase a timer that could be set for two minutes when activated by the explosion. The devices were legitimate claymores, along with extra bits of ball bearings and razor blades. The claymores he set in a device that was low and angled so they would blow up and out in a four way radius from the SUV. As he put the device together, most carefully, he remembered what it was like in Iraq. It was fighting in the war that made him discover his love of arson, and murder. Most of the time the military cured his urges to kill, but lately it hadn't satisfied and especially when his tour ended, he was left wanting more. So here he was, underneath a car, ready to plant a bomb on people he didn't know or care about.

Joey was observant though. He listened to Spike and Morbious, Spike changing languages every so often as if he wanted to be secretive: a smattering of Russian here, Portuguese there, even some Dutch or Scandinavian. Axe didn't seem to understand, or if he did he was sure doing a good job of hiding it. Joey couldn't remember how long he'd been working for Spike, and he always had to ask himself where Spike was from because with the way Spike's accent constantly changed and the way he constantly changed himself he was truly a man of mystery.

"How is it going down there?" Axe's voice.

"Swimmingly, I was just about to break out the martini's - Look I'm putting a bomb together how do you think it's going?" Joey groaned, as he connected another set of wires.

"Look just hurry it up, I want to be back at the safe house a.s.a.p."

Joey grumbled and thought for an instant about just setting off the device, but he realized he'd get killed as well. As much as he loathed impatience, he rather enjoyed the gift of drawing a full breath.

It was another 20 minutes before the device was complete, and the giraffe slipped from under the car, and pulled his hoodie back on. "There it's complete. Claymores and incendiary are all ready to go off the instant anyone tries to start this bad boy up."

Spike smiled and said, "Excellent. Lets head to the car and get out of here, but I'm going to want you to come back after the game to make sure this thing goes off without a hitch. I expect flawlessness from you."

Joey didn't expect anything less than high standards when it came to what Spike wanted. Spike didn't accept anything second-rate, or 4-star - he wanted flawlessness, just as he had stated.

"Alright, I'll be back here in a couple hours, in the mean time, I suggest we high tail."

* * *

Fletcher tower, what was under construction, was destined to stand tall with all the central buildings of downtown. 60 stories in all, the tower was meant to contain offices, and apartments for the Fletch-co Empire. In the time the Churchill Estates had burned to the ground, the building was over halfway completed, with crews working night and day. Construction crews that received paychecks with Alex's signature was definitely bank material, laughable or not.

As Spike rode the elevator up into the construction area, he still couldn't help but loathe skyscrapers. They were a symbol of people's pursuit of power; going upwards reaching towards the heavens, when Spike thought laterally, that empires should be built outwards not upwards. Places like the Forbidden City, and ancient Babylon enthralled him for their size rather than their architecture.

Spike had taken an hour to head to the safe house and be intimate with Morbious, he hadn't fucked with his created offspring in ages, and the pair needed a good romp. After dying his hair yet again, this time a pseudo-natural brown, he'd dressed once more in his thrashed/revealing outfits consisting of denim, leather, and chain-mail. He wore a set of denim pants that had huge holes cut out of the thighs that swept around back showing off nearly all of his tattooed backside, only leaving his rear covered. The holes then were laced with chain-mail, giving the window to his legs. He wore a sleeveless leather jacket, and a fishnet top, sporting his new nipple and navel percings (I think mine are better thank you.).

Giving himself an approving look in the mirror he had head out to the tower, and was now in the service elevator, sporting a hard hat over his head, and his hair tucked into a tight braid. The service elevator came to a sudden jerking stop, for a moment giving spike a panoramic view of the city thanks to the cage style of the car. Construction was halted for the day, as it was the one day off a week the contracted laborers were given.

Spike stepped off the elevator when he opened the doors, and wandered across the metal plates that doubled as a walking surface, and headed towards two large forms that were standing between a set of twin beams, appearing to be launching objects over the edge out of some sort of crude sling-shot.

"What are you to walking blunders doing?" Spike asked as he moved closer towards the rabbits Heckyl and Jeckyl.

Heckyl turned around, holding a kitten in his hand, as Jeckyl was resetting the slingshot, and locking it down. "We're having a contest to see who can shoot the farthest and or cause the most damage. Heckyl already hit some woman with a pumpkin" Jeckyl said as he reached behind a crate and produced a small cardboard box the rattled when it was set down. Spike, raising an eyebrow, moved over to investigate. The box had "discount fruit/veggies" written in crayon on the side of the box, and it would appear that placed on newspaper was a substantial crop of mixed produce. It was everything those lousy still-life paintings show, in the way the larger items rested at the bottom and the smaller hand sized fruits and veggies were in the foreground.

Spike then looked up and did the math, but said nothing. Jeckyl picked up a small apple: red and spotted . "Runty, good for distance." Before he set the fruit down in the sling shot cup. The fruit sat in the cup snugly, as if it was the perfect projectile for the device.

"Alright...pull!"

That was the last Spike ever saw of the piece of fruit. Heckyl released the lock, and the tension was released, propelling the apple up and off the edge, tumbling over and over as it made its upward arc to inevitably be pulled back down to earth by gravity. Spike watched as it plummeted, and landed next to a series of blots that had formed a short distance away from the building, making a blot on the side of the connivance store.

"Damn...I swear if we cut off the stems first, they wouldn't tumble as much and will be much more aerodynamic." Jeckyl said as Heckyl kept petting a kitten in his hands. "Say are you ever going to launch another one? Or are you going to cuddle that thing all day?"

Heckyl put the kitten in his suit's breast pocket and said. "I'm keeping this one, I like it. As far as launching, that little tomato over there can beat your pear any day."

Spike cleared his throat, and the pair turned towards the mink whom seemed very unamused. "When you two are quite finished...you have a mission to accomplish remember? You are to apprehend the boy fox, and I want you to make sure you get him alright?" Spike said as he leaned into the box, picking up Tomato that had fallen between a pair of pumpkins. "Or so help me, the fate you've decided for these vegetables will be one one-hundredth the pain that I will inflict on your sorry hides." Spike said before he span the tomato around in his hand.

"What are you going to do with that one boss? We were going to launch it, and that one might even hit a window or car."

Spike narrowed his eyes at the tomato "This one will live, to spread the word of what has transpired here. Genocide is pointless if no one is around to tell about it. So this one will go to his cousins and let them know what's happened, and they will have to live with the terror you two are causing."

"That's kind of deep boss, do you think they are that smart?" Heckyl asked, as he pet the little kitten in his pocket.

"Sometimes I wonder if they have a superior intellect to present company. Anyhow, I have a wolf to murder, and you have a cub to apprehend. Succeed, or it'll be the last thing you fail at." Spike said before turning and making his way back across the plates, heading his way back down to the completed office section.

There, Alex sat in behind his desk, nervous and tired. His confrontation with Spike earlier in the day had left him very uneasy, and scared to say the least. If it wasn't the fact that being stuck and belittled by his husband hadn't secretly turned him on, he would genuinely be fearful. Alex watched the security screens on the wall where he had witnessed the whole scene with Spike and his men, and now he knew Spike was on his way back. Alex himself was one to talk about morals, but he considered Heckyl and Jeckyl's "game" to be distracting and reprehensible. That, and he wanted as little attention drawn to his person as possible, and when it literally starts raining cats...suspicions will be raised.

Alex wasn't surprised when Spike strolled into the office, setting down the shiny tomato on Alex's desk. "Those blithering idiots are going to get themselves arrested or something if they don't cut that out."

"It's a terrible waste of resources and reckless." Alex said softly.

"Oh? That's rich, coming from a man that likes to rape and kill women." Spike said with a smirk.

"This is different. Those kitten's are innocent and barely even know their alive - whereas a woman is a horrible walking pile of flesh that needs to be circumcised from the world."

"Interesting word choice." Spike mused, moving around Alex's desk in a stalking manner, considering Alex with is body language.

"My dad taught me that, I thought I told you."

"You have on several occasions. Anyway I just have certain condescension for people who draw breath that I don't particularly like or care for, and I want this murder to go off without a hitch. I'm like a vampire without blood Alex, and I need blood - and I will spill it from nearly anyone that I need to get it from."

"I know. Again I'm sorry I failed you." Alex said, lowering his head.

"Alex if you had truly failed me you'd be dead now and I'd be fucking your corpse, so stop your self-pitying it's a turn-off."

"Yessir." Alex said, wincing as if struck.

"Pay attention Alex, I want you to do something for me. This is a simple task."

Alex looked up and said. "What is it?"

"I want you to send either Heckyl or Jeckyl to murder Joey Wightlighter."

"Your arsonist? Why in blue blazes would you want to murder him?"

"What did William Shatner say the first rule of assassination was Alex?"

Alex thought on that one. He remembered briefly Star Trek VI, the last real Star Trek movie staring the original cast. He remembered a scene with the fat engineer Scottie who had bonked his head against a pipe after saying he knew the ship like the back of his hand, but it's possible that was V and not VI. "I don't know. What did he say?"

"He said, 'First rule of assassination: Kill the assassins', and as such, I want to keep the good arsonist in my employ it's a very simple fact that I don't want him to ever come back to use his tools against me."

"Well I understand darling but, what if you need his services again?"

"I don't care, It's just something I want done. If I need more men I'll find them, but I will not have any liabilities. I want this to go off without a hitch, flawlessly."

"I understand...it will be done."

* * *

It wasn't quite the reunion I had in mind, but it was a reunion nonetheless. We met at the Golden Gopher on West 8th Street. I'd never been there before, but it was relatively close to Fletcher's Tower and still what dad figured wouldn't be watched by Fletcher's goons. Dad figured all the gay bars would be covered, so we chose your average joint.

Rowdy was at the game so he was the only one that wouldn't be there. Neil and I sat in the far corner. Neil was wearing one of his better tan dress shirts and slacks. I was wearing some denim shorts and a vintage nasty green 7-up t-shirt and some combat boots. Micah and Khris had shown up too - Micah had actually slicked his hair back and put in contacts, and I could tell he was wearing S&M straps under his T shirt and khakis, and that so was Khris. I had asked them if they were coming from or headed to, and they just smiled their answer. Asher was going to be down in the next few days and we were all excited.

We were about to open the door, when the person I was waiting for strolled in. A Doberman, wearing a denim shirt with the sleeves ripped off, matching skintight jeans tucked into some biker boots. His arms were unbelievably muscular and more defined than I'd probably seen them in my life. His chest was bare under the shirt, with the exception of his California State Bounty Hunter's badge which he wore around his neck. His ears were swept back, and even the bartender dropped her jaw.

He pulled the gloves on tighter, and took the hand of a golden retriever, his hair in corn rows much like I had seen them the last time I was with him. Though, the look on his face was not very pleasant. He seemed frightened. He was wearing a leather jacket and blue jeans with a white T shirt. Being led by the hand, the Doberman drug his friend over to our spot.

"Well, it's great to see you Renee, Chong is still going through major withdrawal symptoms from that overdose, and he still really doesn't know where he is, so I brought him as part of his healing."

And it didn't appear he did know where he was. The retriever's eyes were wide, as if in fear. His eyes looked around the room and he huddled very close to Mitchell. "Any chances he'll heal mate?" Khris asked.

"Perhaps, but it'll take time. The drugs they used on him do terrible damage and most of the times it can cause permanent changes in a person. I mean Chong was a person again before Alex and his goons did this to him - now he only seems to remember me for some reason...I keep mentioning you and he doesn't even remember really. Names...but nothing else."

I smiled at Chong, and he stared at me with those wide eyes of his. He looked like he did when he very first started getting off drugs, and looked almost like he was drowning. I looked him right in the eyes and said. "You'll be a person again Chong I swear."

"Speaking of being people again, when are we going to do that ourselves? You know I'm getting damn tired of tip-toeing around this city like it's the bloody plague." Micah said, looking at the menu.

Dad came out of the bathroom as if on cue, dressed in a black sport coat, turtleneck and blue jeans. "As long as we must, but not for much longer I can assure you, I have a plan."

"And what plan is that Mr. Morningstar?" Khris asked, in a non condescending way.

"I am eager to crack some skulls myself," Mitchell began "But if you don't mind I'd love to keep Chong out of this. I'll blow my fucking brains out too if anything else happens to him."

"Please don't Kurt. There's been way too much death going around lately, and I don't want to be a part of the company of death anymore."

"Again I don't plan on it, but if anything else bad were to happen to Chong it'd be the end of me."

I shook a finger. "See that's what our problem is. We keep thinking that we're on the ropes and feeling we're going to get that knock-out blow any time now. Well there's two people in that ring, and unless the other guy is a complete re-knob, then even he has a chance. Besides, I think we've utilized the rope-a-dope technique enough."

"Rope-a-dope?" Neil asked.

"It's a boxing term Neil, it's when a boxer puts his hands up and lets his opponent wear himself out, then he moves in for the kill. I thought your country invented boxing?" Dad asked.

"Well it invented the Marquis de Queensbury rules which are still used to this day - same bloke that put away Sir Oscar Wilde I might add." Micah chimed in with a smirk.

"Well Renee, this is the point where I roll out of the ring, grab a frickin metal folding chair and go Asher on these guys. I've been kicking ass and taking names, and right now I can think of a few people I'd love to bring in for bond." Mitchell said, picking up the menu as well. "So what is this plan anyway Ritch? How much is it gong to cost us this time?"

Ritch chuckled and raised his eyes, his eye patch riding tight on his head. "Well It shouldn't cost us more than man-hours and meticulous observation."

"What do you have in mind?" We all asked.

"Well I've noticed that Cookie has a very intricate aptitude for noticing his surroundings, as well as retaining memories. Granted his inbreeding has left him socially and mentally retarded, but he can remember things better than perhaps anyone I've ever met. First, I want to use Cookie to find out information on Alex's deals I.E. names and places and anything that would have seemed strange to him. Secondly I want to use live bait, and bait his sharks - by having us go exactly where we've been avoiding like nothing ever happened."

"You want to use a sting?" Kurt said, beginning to rub his chin as he looked over the menu.

"Pretty much. If we can spot who's watching us using a triangulation technique , we can pull the same crap on them. Its all about people watching, trying to catch who's watching whom. I've collared so many spotters in my earlier days its second nature to me."

"Well what about your jurisdiction?" Neil asked before commenting that the breaded pork chops looked delicious.

"Drugs and Alcohol yes, but that doesn't mean that Spike's 'fingermen' aren't dirty themselves. Besides after the crap they pulled on us I think a little goose and gander action is in order. I've taken the liberty of contacting Roman my feline drug cartel around here and getting enough supply that I can plant on the Fingermen to at least lock them away long enough to neutralize that threat. Without his men, Spike will have to rely on his own mental faculties to try to outsmart us."

"Well he is an evil genius. And I'm sure he's got connections with different law enforcement agencies, he may have your own people working against you Ritch." Khris said, sipping on some water.

"Even so, if we all pool our efforts it'll be very hard for them to truly get a grasp on us. Now for lets eat."

The reunion became a bit more cheerful after that. Kurt told us thrilling tales of snatching criminals while riding on his chopper - Neil commented on how it reminded him of the Justicars of ancient days riding on horseback and scooping up the bad guys by the scruff of their neck. Kurt told us about how this one criminal had tried to cut a deal - a rapist - and had said that if he could beat Kurt in a fist fight that Kurt had to let him go, but of he lost then he'd have to turn himself in. Kurt did his best Howard Cocell impersonation to mimic the account of the fight, and ultimately as we guessed he ended up winning. "No seriously I reached right into his pants, grabbed him square by the balls and squeezed, while my other hand repeatedly pummeled him about the head and shoulders."

We laughed. Even if Kurt wasn't gay, the act surely would have been intimidating, and bold to say the least and most definitely unorthadox. Ritch said he would have probably used eye rakes or eye gouges or even yanked on his ears. Our food came, I settled on the breaded parmesan chicken smothered in cheese and sauce. It was delicious. Dad looked downright comical with his ribs, getting sauce all over his muzzle, while Kurt had settled on Coney Island style hot dogs.

We ate and we BS'ed some more. Micah and Khris had said that things were going alright for them, and that they were still doing just fine living in the hills, and that I was always welcome to come and stay with them. I took them up on the offer, saying I'd love to spend some time getting to know them once again in person. After the playdate was set (I love how causal we all are about fucking one another, all I have to say is "So can we fuck?"), it was back down to business while we debated deserts. It was nearing 7 pm so we had to be scrupulous with our time. We all got the chocolate moose.

"Alright, well Renee, tomorrow morning I want you to go and speak with Ishanka, that has to be done."

"I'm really not looking forward to that pops, you know he's going to say no."

"I don't really care Renee. Ishanka is involved in this because he's been wrongly accused of murder, and these assholes murdered a good stage-partner you both loved and cared about. I don't think he'll be too happy, but he shouldn't be two abrasive either."

"You have to try Renee, I'd like his assistance on this venture, and I'm willing to offer him FBI protection as well as payment for his efforts."

"Once more I think you're barking up the wrong tree, but I'll do it."

"Good, your step dad should be taking Cyric to the movies to unwind before tonight. Renee whatever you do with those two, make sure you still have enough energy left for me and Cyric would you?"

I blushed a little bit. "I'll do my best. Say is Rowdy still using your secret transports?"

"Yeah. I have a car that picks him up from every game and drives him to one of our safe-houses. He's going to meet up with you tomorrow to discuss Asher's involvement in all this."

Mitchell cleared his throat. "Asher's involvement? Asher should keep that fuzzy rear end of his as far away from Los Angeles as he can - who's to say that Alex doesn't try to repeat the same offense?"

Ritch tilted his head and said. "Asher has made one hell of a recovery. He was able to run and walk even before he got his sight back. Granted, it's going to be interesting seeing him with a set of feline eyes, but he's still the same guy we've always known and I expect him to be just as eager to kick some ass at this - the Fletcher family did cost him his wrestling career and nearly his life."

"Yes thanks for reminding me dad."

"Renee in times of yore generals would meet in taverns and inns and discuss the battle strategy over mead and meat, just like we are now. This is war Renee, albeit small scale warfare but this is definitely warfare. It is us against a crime lord and his corporate partner, and if they are going to fight with fire we have to fight right back."

"He's right you know." Neil said. "We British certainly weren't to keen on turning the other cheek when people were cross with us."

"And of course you also threw Oscar Wilde in prison." I joked, nudging Neil.

"I thought it was the French?" Micah answered.

But before we could debate much more, we all realized, Chong was staring at us, sitting in what could be defined as rapt attention. His eyes were focused on me, as dilated as they were, they had honed in on my own. We all stopped talking and looked at him.

"You look like Renee..." He said softly, before turning his head and burying his face in Mitchell's shoulder. "I want Renee! I want Renee back! Tell those fuckers to get him! I want NE NE!"

And then he began shouting in Spanish, buried in Mitchell's shoulder. He held up a hand to signal everything was under control, and shed a tear, holding his partner's head against his arm. "I can't take much more of this Renee. He doesn't even recognize you. He sees foxes all the time like your dad and flips out like this. I thought seeing you would help but he doesn't even know it's you."

"Isn't the rehab helping?" Khris asked.

"Bits and pieces. He knows me, he knows he loves me and that I take care of him, but he doesn't really remember much of anything. All that time he spent sobered up....getting better and figuring what he was going to do with his life....are all gone."

"Mankey Gits." Neil said next to me, sighing and sipping his drink.

"I'm thinking of sending him to a professional to have him looked at, maybe they can do something to help him out, I don't know."

Ritch nodded. "That may be best for him, I can recommend a few great Doctors."

"Please do Ritch, I mean I'm pretty much working full time as it is, and I can't put that much into both jobs of being there for Chong and providing for us at the same time. I swear to god, I wont rest till I have that walking penis behind bars."

"Or dead." Khris chimed in.

"Yeah or dead. I'd kill him myself if I didn't care about my life like I do."

"Well it's a very good thing you do care about your life, cause I'd hate to see you throw away such a promising career."

Kurt scoffed and shrugged. "Just cause I like a job, doesn't mean its promising. I'm more than likely to haul someone in that's going to want to gut me later, or I'll arrest someone's son or brother or father and they'll want their little taste of revenge."

I called for attention by raising a finger and drawing everyone's gaze. "Like Dad says, we have jobs to do. Micah, Khris, I'd love to get some more welcome back play before I go and talk with Lotus. "

The pair of foxes smiled, and nodded. "Yeah lets get a move on."

We all stood up and exchanged hugs and they all took turns welcoming me back and hugging me. I told Neil that I'd be beat after tonight and would probably crash at our new apartment he got for us in the crappy hood, and get to work on the plan with Heinrich and Ben Swerdlowe. He said that was fine and we kissed goodnight, before I left in Micah and Khris' Volkswagen for their house in the hills, and a sweet S&M surrender.

* * *

Rowdy stood utterly naked under the shower stream. He had managed to win by 6 points, but he still felt like it was a loss. The other team had superior offense, and all that really kept him afloat was his team's defensive training. He braced his hands against the wall, and closed his eyes as the multiple shower heads sprayed him with hot pressurized water. Around him, his 12 teammates were celebrating in their own ways: Shaunte was busy slapping the collective asses of the team, White was helping himself to the after-game buffet, Johnson was next to Rowdy rapping about how crappy the other team was and stopping every so often to insert a self glorifying verse, and the others were simply showering and giving Johnson backup.

Rowdy opened his eyes under the water, and held his head at an angle so the water wouldn't get into his eyes. He was exhausted, both figuratively and literally. Of the game's 3 hours, he had spent nearly 2 hours and 15 minutes on the floor, and had carried the 16 pound blackball several times. To Rowdy this didn't matter; he'd done his job and now came the medial task of getting into one of the FBI's unmarked motor pools. He was also nervous as hell. He hadn't seen Asher since the surgery on his eyes, and the idea of seeing one another again, plagued him during the game. He kept seeing Asher everywhere: in the audience, in the opposing lineup, even in the referees. He couldn't stop thinking about his life mate, and even now as Shaunte gave his ass a grope before walking on to the next person, he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if Asher was there.

Asher would have been right in front of him, up against the wall. Their muzzles would slowly reach for one another, like a pair of snails racing, and finally connect under the spray of the water. Their lips would press and caress the other, their eyes would close, bringing Rowdy to scoop his mate off the wall and pull their bodies together. They'd kiss, and mingle tongues, and run their hands over one another's body. Rowdy from my experience was never a tender lover, but Asher was different, and he'd show his sensitive side.

Rowdy opened his eyes, and saw nothing but tile. He'd been seeing nothing but tile for a while now, and the sight of that bare tile in front of his favorite shower spot, just made him feel lonely. He clenched his eyes tight, and held his face under the stream. No one could see him cry this way. He could let loose, and throw his shadow punches against the wall - which he began to do - so no one would ever suspect their star player was breaking down and crying.

But when his fit left him, he turned off the shower, and headed back to dress, sampling some of the after-game buffet that had been laid out for him to sample. He took a bucket of honey barbeque wings that was half gone, and snagged a Pepsi. It would be good for the road.

Shaunte walked over, after having dressed in some baggy jeans and several pairs of shorts with his athletic jacket, he slapped the naked Rowdy on the back. "Hey brother, I was going to show everyone my new ride out front; you want to come check it out? It's all pimped out playa."

Rowdy shrugged and flexed his nude back, walking towards his locker. "What all you have in it?"

"Man I got CD, DVD, LED, 4 wheel drive, leather interior, 300 watt stereo, 100 disk changer, Mp3, Video screen, Spinners, Condom/Lube dispensers for when I feel playful, mini fridge for munchies, hydraulics, neon liners, chrome side panel, built in vibrating chairs, built in phone..."

Rowdy held up his hand. "Dude, you weren't kidding. I feel like when a kid goes to Disneyland ya know - he sees all them rides but only has this much time on his hands."

"So what you sayin wolfie?"

"I'm sayin' that I got plans tonight. Nothing personal, I just got a thing to do and someone to see."

"Yeah weren't you saying that Morningstar guy was coming back to town?" Shaunte said, scratching his grey chin.

"That's right. He's my roommate, and a significant friend - kind of like a sex partner you love but aren't in love with."

Shaunte nodded. "Hey I hear ya bro, you hookin up?"

Rowdy opened his locker and pulled out a pair of pink and black spandex shorts, and stepped into them, and then pulled on a matching Gold's Gym tank top, before slipping on his socks and some tennis shoes. "Maybe, I don't really know if we're going to play, but I do want to see him. He's like a brother to me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I was going through rough times and I just happened to give him a call on his article he put out asking for roommates and well after we fucked all over his apartment I knew I was home."

Shaunte laughted and slapped his knee. "Wolfie please! You fucked his ass the first time you met ?"

Rowdy pulled out a bottled water and started to drink it, before making his way out of the locker room with Shaunte in close proximity. "It was actually more like within the first hour or so that I new him. In retrospect, I probably would have waited a little bit longer but I was really horny and he is hella cute. The sex has always been good between us."

"Normally I'm not into the whole gay thing outside of locker room shit, antics and all that, but I don't think I could ever be gay - nothing against you playa."

"I don't take offense to that. I mean I've been called worse and told worse."

"But I didn't mean to make it sound like I'm doggin you."

Rowdy chuckled, as if to convey he already felt uncomfortable as it is. "It's cool man it's cool. I'm just really tired from the game, and I got to catch my ride."

"I understand, we'll all be out there if you need us."

Ritch bid his forward guard farewell, and made his way through the predetermined exits he and my father had come up with, where he would undoubtedly meet his ride.

Rowdy hated the idea of having to accept rides from the feds. It was like, he couldn't protect himself - was he really so weak? He cursed himself for not just defying our judgment and going ahead and living his life the way he wanted to. He wanted to drive his car, leave his way and have fun like he used to before Fletcher had made his life hell. He cursed not having the luxury to even murder the new Fletcher, because he knew he wasn't prepared to spend 25 to life in jail just to get his revenge.

But he would get his revenge, one way or another. This was something he had come to terms with.

Rowdy entered the underground garage, and looked around. There was an old 1980's black 4 door sedan, probably a Cadillac or a Chevrolet. A white wolf, just like Rowdy, stood in front of the car.

"How about them Mets?" Rowdy asked.

"Fuck the Mets, I'm a Sox fan."

Rowdy smiled and moved over, and slapped a handshake to the Wolf, and he acknowledged it. "You're new." Rowdy said.

"Agent Arran had me sent because his partner is watching Morningstar's kid, and your usual Agent is having emergency heart surgery."

"So you're not a double agent? If you are just blow me away right now."

The wolf shrugged. "Trust me, I'm not, and if I was I would blow you away right now. We're wolves...we are known for our bluntness and tempers aren't we?"

"Too true. Lets shake tail, I got to get home, Renee is here and I want to see him,"

Rowdy hopped in the back seat, and closed the door. The white wolf sat in the front seat, and closed the door. When the engine turned over the car flooded itself with the thick rap that Rowdy had come to accept as a major part of his culture, despite being an 80's rock fan as well. One had to influence the other right? "Nice, I haven't heard N.W.A. since I was a kid."

The wolf flicked his ears back as he pulled out. "Yeah kid's nowadays don't appreciate the sacrifice that some of these performers made back in the day - being at the forefront of controversy and being in the public's eye like that. What you and that Morningstar guy are doing now...will be passé 10 to 15 years from now tops I swear. Look at you, you came out and everyone was like holy shit, and Morningstar had been out for a while but that was the first time a movie like he did actually went somewhere ya know? But the kids of today will have everything easy for them as adults when they get there man."

Rowdy pondered that, and pictured his godsons Cyric and Ryan back in Portland. Ryan whom he had ravaged and raped and brutally maimed was now practically his son...he'd be starting high school and he couldn't even see...just like Asher couldn't see. Why was it that he had to cause so much pain to everyone around him? Hell how long had it been since he'd seen Goat? Ages.

The thought then occurred to him as he thought of goat, he lined him and me both up. We were practically the same - we were both very good friends of his and even physical lovers but both had received terrible fates by higher powers. Even our faith was the same, as we were both die-hard Satanists. Only Goat had seemed to fade away from Rowdy's life, whereas Rowdy couldn't get away from me if he tried.

The car pulled into the parking lot where he could see a large crowd gathered around Shaunte's SUV. He was so bored with Shaunte's toys that he was glad to be getting away and coming to see me.

And then...the bomb went off.

The explosion was just as Joey had set it up to be, a large incendiary explosion created a tremendous ball of fire that consumed him and the people inside in an instant, and as the tremendous sound of the explosion rattled the windows. "Fuck me!"

"Shit!" The white wolf up front uttered before he got on his cellular phone and called it in. "Yes agent Brown here, we have an explosion at the blackball game arena, large fire and several casualties. Send fire, police and medical, be advised possibility of the fire spreading and more explosions due to the proximity of the cars."

Rowdy covered his mouth, in shock and horror, knowing what had just happened, and looked away before the second explosion hit. The second explosion was much louder, and both men actually had to cover their ears, as the sedan sped into the night.

"Fuck!" Both men said together.

Rowdy pulled out his cellular phone from his backpack, and dialed up my dad. Dad answered on the second ring. "Rowdy what's up?"

"Ritch..." Rowdy began, unaware his voice had started to go shaky. "I think there was an assassination attempt on me tonight. Shaunte's SUV is in flames and just blew up, sounded like a fucking tank hit it. There's all kinds of people dead..."

"Just calm down Ritch that's why you're in that car right now and not laying dead with those other people. Is Brown contacting the authorities?"

"Yeah but-" Ritch interrupted before Rowdy could protest.

"Listen to me Rowdy, there's nothing you can do, and there's nothing that Brown can do except what you're both doing. I'm glad you let me know because this just means that our enemies have become much more reckless and stupid. He probably was hoping a small explosive device would take you out without causing too much of a stir. Well since it was witnessed by a federal agent, we can investigate it now, so you two get your tails over to the house now, and don't spare the metal you hear me?"

Rowdy closed his eyes, and started to cry. Ritch heard the sobs on the other end of the line. "Everyone always gets hurt because of me."

"Rowdy you cut that shit right now. You've seen worse! You used to run with one of the toughest gangs in the Pacific Northwest, and I know you did a whole lot worse. You're a good person now and that's understandable, but feeling sorry for yourself is un-fucking-acceptable you hear me? Or lives are on the line here, and we have to all be running on full tanks here okay?"

Rowdy sobbed for a few more minutes before he sniffed and said "Uh huh." Into the phone.

"Look Rowdy I know you got bigger balls than that. I want to hear you say it like you mean it!."

"Ritch why are you doing this? I'm not your son..." Rowdy muttered.

"Do I have to be your daddy to light a fire under your ass? Someone obviously lit a fire underneath your friends asses and they are now original recipe and extra crispy. Come on Rowdy, get mad....get angry...get furious!"

Rowdy was getting angry, not at Spike or Alex, but more at my dad. Rowdy never really did like being told what to do. "Don't tell me what to do old man."

"Or you'll what?" Ritch asked. "What are you going to do?"

"I'll kick your ass."

"Good that's a start, then what are you going to do after you're done kicking my ass."

"I don't know...probably go kick Alex's ass."

"Good! Now you get your ass over here, and we'll see about how we can change this situation."

* * *

The attempted assassination of Rowdy was no where in my mind when I stepped out of the bathroom in Micah and Khris' house in the hills. I was wearing one of Khris' getups because we were roughly the same build. The outfit consisted of a pair of my own hip high hooker boots with high heels, a thong which was very tight in the front and would prevent me from obtaining erection, but keep my tailhole accessible, straps on my chest, and chins connecting my nipple and navel rings. I started to slip on some gloves onto my arms that went past my elbows, and I was ready.

Micah and Khris were down in the basement, where I met them. They stood on either side of a sling, the kind you see in all sorts of nasty bondage movies. I'd been in a few of them myself, and had used them as well. They were great, cause depending on the adjustments made, it puts the man's ass right at the perfect fucking level and all you have to do is stand and hump.

Khris was wearing chaps, and straps, but otherwise was nude, his erection was standing proud, dripping with precum. Micah was adjusting the harness, and he was wearing a thong and a harness as well, only he had a restraint collar around his neck. Both looked utterly beautiful.

"It's been a long time Renee, think you're ready for this? Once we start on your bum we won't stop."

I shook my head. "That's what I'm here for, pain and pleasure, from two of my longest friends."

Micah made the final adjustment, and I maneuvered over to the sling. I sat on the edge and flopped into it. It swung for a moment, but Khris and Micah steadied it while I got my legs in the stirrups. My neck was unsupported, and it hung off the edge, but this was the desired effect. Khris' scrotum was right in range, and I leaned out, and gave them a lick.

They were definitely salty, and pungent...just the way I remembered. Khris moved forward to indulge me, as we began.

I opened my mouth wide, and allowed the two orbs of male sexuality enter my muzzle, and wrapped my teeth and lips carefully around them, and began to suck softly. Khris' shaft balanced against my nose, which was wetter now than it was a moment before from my increasing heat and his precum which had dripped onto my face. I felt Khris move over me, and tie a blindfold around my eyes, and I complied, it was more fun this way...the pleasure and the pain.

I sucked hard on Khris' scrotum, as he spoke dirty to me, slapping my cheeks. "That's it, we've missed our whore haven't we...yeah...you were our whore first little bitch cakes."

My crotch was pawed over, for only an instant, before a pair of nimble and small hands gripped my taut and ripped abs and began to tug and twist at my navel ring. I jerked in the sling, and spat out the balls, not wanting to hurt them, and replaced the balls with the hard throbbing shaft instead. I bent my head at a better angle, and Khris helped, slapping my cheeks hard, and pushing his cock in and out of my throat, while his hands held my head in place. It was nice to feel a cock in my mouth again, especially the cock of someone I knew and trusted. It was your average cock: not to big, and not too small. It was just what I wanted in a cock, and it was in my mouth.

The nimble hands then moved up to the chain connecting my two navel rings, and began to giggle it, almost mimicking a sled-driver's mush command. This caused incredible sensation to rip through my chest, as my nipples were rather sensitive.

"Oh yes...cor...where did you learn how to suck cock like this?" Khris groaned, slopping his cock in and out of my throat at a more aggressive state. Though I wasn't sure if he meant the question literally or as a rhetorical question. Either way, I didn't stop.

I curled my toes, and tested my restraints, and swallowed a bit of precum, groaning and getting myself prepared. The tugging on my chest became a bit more aggressive, pulling at my muscles and pectorals as well as the shafts of the nipples themselves. I winced and Khris gave my face a few gentle loving slaps, and groaned his lewd words of encouragement. "That's it...yeah...such that...bugger man...you know how to do this."

And then I felt something wet at my tailhole. I sighed, and felt a lubricated finger penetrate my outer ring, and wiggle inside. The sudden full feeling caused my retraining thong to be pushed to the limits, holding my penis back inside of its sheath was getting a bit painful - and they knew this. The finger twisted around, clockwise to counter clockwise, in and out, pushing in and out of my clean depths, and getting them nice and slick. "Oh FUCK" I groaned around Khris' cock.

Khris slid the cock out of my mouth and kneeled over me, and locked muzzles. It was a different flavor, but a wonderful sensation; frankly I was glad to give my jaw a little bit of a break. Khris' kiss was disarming, aggressive, passionate but lewd and almost feral. His tongue forced it's way around inside of my throat like an insane asylum inmate bouncing around a padded cell. Saliva ran down my cheek in little rivulets due to Khris' forceful kissing, and I loved it. To me it was as if Khris was forbidding me to swallow and just using me. I had an orgasm at the thought, but didn't ejaculate...my body reaching a fever pitch and arching, before I laid back down against my restraints, and felt the finger remove itself from my rear, and a phallus insert itself.

I couldn't remember the last time Micah had been inside of me, but he definitely was getting the job done of filling me up. He folded his ears back, and began to rock his hips in and out of me, while Khris stood back up and gripped my nipple chain, and aided in the momentum by tugging on my chest accessory. Oh my did it hurt, but please me all the while. I bayed and cried out in delight and pleasure.

Khris guided his cock back into my mouth, and gave it a helping shove down into my mouth once more. "Fuck yes...that's right. Fuck him onto my cock Micah hun."

Micah held onto me tight, and worked himself harder and faster into me now than I'd ever felt the small man perhaps ever fuck someone in his life. His length and the shape of his pelvis gave him an almost perfect entrance in and out of me, thrilling my prostate and my spot better than I'd been in a while. My ass needed a good wake up and Micah being on the average to smaller size was perfect for this task - the cock in my throat was definitely re-awakening my hunger for the flesh of other men and quenching my thirst for seed.

Or making it stronger...

Micah pants soon were resounding over the natural slaps of skin and thuds of thicker meatier parts. My thong strained and stretched with my erection that I swore the leather would soon tear open and my length would burst forth like an infamous Sci-fi scene that had been forever etched in just about every fan's mind. I could feel Micah trembling between my legs, his hands slipping and just holding onto me now.

"That's it baby...finish off in him...I can tell you need it..."

Micah whimpered and moaned, and I could feel his knot growing inside of me. It wasn't the biggest but it did it's job of lodging himself inside. Soon he found his length buried inside of me, and all he could do was fight to free himself while he jerked and convulsed in orgasam.

Micah's cum felt like a smoothe, and slow filling sensation, and I could feel it splashing deep within my bowels. I groaned and swallowed hard on Khris...who pulled slowly out of my mouth, and stroked himself.

Minutes later, Khris gave a loud appreciative groan, and lurched, and I felt his seed spraying all over my face, chest, and torso. It made loud spattering sounds as it smacked the leather, and drizzled against my body. It was like someone had just sprayed me with hot oil...and lots of it...his cum was near scalding. Khris then guided the rest to dribble and spray into my mouth, allowing me to drink from him like a calf from the cow's udder.

Khris danced, and shivered in pleasure while I milked at his impressively sensitive prick for a while.

Soon the clamps were removed, and my blindfold, and Micah and I were force-separated before his legs gave out - devil bless him. "Whew...wow that was hot Renee."

"Thanks, It's been a while since I've been in the sling." I said, standing up and whipping my rear with a moist-nap Khris was so kind to hand me.

Micah crawled over to a relief cot not far from the sling and collapsed into it, while Khris staggered over to help me up. To be honest, they looked like they'd been through 10 rounds with the heavyweight champ while I felt like I was just getting started - not that getting a knot force removed is the most pleasant experience.

"You could have fooled me Renee." Micah gasped out, before laying still and finally passing out.

"Aye, me too. Damn...I'd have taken a piece of your ass too but you're going to be riding two more tonight, and that's a lot of knots you know mate?"

I nodded. Indeed it was. Micah and Cyric to my knowledge were matched for knot sizes, however dad and Khris had full sized knots that could choke someone if they were to swallow it. "Ugh well I appreciate the sentiment but I have a date at home with the family tonight." I said, standing up and beginning to strip down out of the Straps and thong, letting my starved erection leap free and catch the cool basement air for a while.

"So you're really going to do it eh? You're really gonna...prune the tree as it were?"

"No doubt about it Khris. This has been a long time coming - err no pun intended. This family has been through too much, and we want to stick together. So we're going to stick together, and enjoy one another."

Khris nodded and walked over to the basement sink, and turned it on. He held his face under the cold water for a minute, and then lifted his head up, the water cascading down and making him look mangy. "Well give me a minute to get some real clothes on and to get my sea legs back, and we'll have you over to your pop's. Do you want to shower first?"

I thought on it. What would dad say if I came in and had crusted semen stains and the flavor of Khris' semen on my lips? He'd probably tell me to shower anyway so we could all have a clean slate. "Yeah I think I will take you up on that offer, I could use one."

He pointed up the stairs and patted me on my naked ass. "You know where it is, I'll meet you outside."

* * *

Khris and I looked like clones, driving down the street together. Khris and I were both wearing tight jeans now, and wife beaters. Mine choice in clothing was just so I could have the clothes I was wearing earlier washed, and half something fresh to wear when I met pops. Khris just threw on the same thing so he didn't have to think about dressing. We'd both slicked our hair back, and mine was braided once more after a very hot relaxing shower.

Khris had even convinced me to share a cigarette with him, and we were both blazed up there in the car, smoking away, talking about things as if I'd never left. Fuck it felt nice.

"...And then get this - I threw him to the bed and raped him."

Khris shook his head and blew his smoke out the window. "Renee, I never knew you had it in you to rape someone - let alone tolerate a prat like him."

"You had to do what you had to do. The hospital assigned him to us and he was a good cook and he got me to do stuff...kinda."

"Renee, there's gay and then there's...problematic. That is just problematic and makes us look bad. I mean if he'd been my caretaker I'd ask to be assigned for a tour of duty aboard the Hood."

I blinked and folded my ears back and looked at him. "The Hood?"

Khris nodded. "Like your beloved Enterprise and Nimitz the Hood was Britain's flagship. It was the most proud vessel, and completely badass during World War One. Well in World War Two it intercepted the Bismarck and the two went at it. Yeeeahhh...One well placed shot at it's poorly armored amidships and the thing blew higher than a kite. The shell you see, tore right through the armor and hit the magazine chamber and set it off. The Hood had a crew of almost 1400 when it blew, and only 3 men survived."

I blinked. "Fuck's sake man, sounds like Alex almost."

Khris shrugged. "Well eventually the Dorchester and a few other British ships managed to take her down. Turns out her weakness was she had a shitty rudder, and one torpedo to it ended up fucking her over. Ironically as far as Alex goes, ever notice he has a bad knee?"

I recalled several flashes of rapes from Alex, and come to think of it I did recall some scarring on his left knee. Once he'd even worn a brace, but I had thought perhaps he'd pulled it playing tennis or something lame like that. "I have now that I recollect."

"Well if you ever take him on, you can use that to your advantage." Khris said. "Take out his knee and just like Bismarck he'll be forced to limp around in circles until he wanders right into your trap."

"And then let me guess, we pummel him till he sinks?"

"More or less - took the British fleet 16 hours to do it. The thing was so well armored."

I snickered. "Does it ever not take the British a long time to do something? I mean didn't they just implement divorce? Imagine in 300 years they might allow Elvis records."

Khris punched my thigh and I laughed. "Ey, need I remind you of the less than reputable people you've had in your government eh?"

"Oh well at least the longest we have to worry about a bad GOP is only 8 years. I could only imagine what it was like in ancient times where a cruel king could rule as long as he lived."

Khris nodded. "And some blokes lived many years, and hung in there. Heaven forbid if his successor were just as bad if not worse than his predecessor. I don't think I could live back when Britannia was ruled. At least not bloody easily"

"I'd like to see you in period dress sometime Chris, that'd be so quaint." I said with a laugh.

Khris scoffed. "Hey you know a certain wealthy fox that loves period style dress. You want to see me in a Victorian getup you'd either be ready to give it up to me, or have a fat wad of money."

"Come on, it can't be all that bad. You in tights and tunic or chain-mail? I think that would look downright fetching."

"I'm about to fetch you a shot in the mouth and a long walk home if you keep that up." Khris said playfully. "And I don't think you want to be walking around with Spike's goons around.

I folded my arms and crossed my legs, and stuck them out the window. "Really Khris though...I mean Spike isn't all knowing and all-seeing. He can't have people scouring every inch of Los Angeles at every instant of the day. Not even the FBI has that manpower or wanted terrorists. I mean he'd practically have to have every square foot of this city monitored by people or by camera. You've seen enemy of the state haven't you? Not even Will Smith was watched that precisely and even he found a way through - and that was with government funding that his enemies were supplied with."

Khris whistled. "You make a good point. But does that make your dad Gene Hackman?" Khris asked.

"Good Lucifer's beard I hope not. Have you seen his legs?" I asked with a shudder.

We both laughed, and tossed our cigarettes out the window. The warm breeze of the California night blew up my pants and caressed my naked legs and undercarriage, and was like the soft tongue of the most intimate lover. Micah's cum still was seeping out of my rectum as I sat there, but I'd done my best to internalize the blessed seed. I'm not perfect, thought I think I was doing a good job.

* * *

I walked through the front door of my dad's house, and waved goodbye to Khris. He politely honked back and drove away as I shut the door behind me. Inside the house smelled of warm sensual vapors and the place was darkened in order to set the mood.

I looked down at myself and looked about the room that was the marriage flat of my father and his panther, and more recently the home of my son and suddenly felt a sense of foreboding as if I didn't belong here. It'd been forever sine I'd stepped foot across my father's threshold and entered his realm. The last time I'd done that, Cyric and I ended up making our first love together on the couch in truly one hot incestuous coupling. And even with that knowledge I wondered if it was right or even my place to be there then. Father had taken up paternal duties over Cyric and Cyric had been without the man that'd sworn to do his duty and protect him and hold and care for him.

I knew he was there. I could smell his scent in the air, along with my father's. Both were strong, and were not unlike the brush of velvet across my body. I could feel them, not just smell them, I could literally feel them as if they were right in front of me. My chest, my tattoo that normally burned when someone I knew was in trouble instead felt warm, like hot ice upon my torso. For a moment, I felt it flare...and I felt so warm and enveloped...I lacked the ability to put into words just how I was feeling and how good it was.

It was then, coming form the bedroom area, I saw my father. Suddenly he didn't seem like my father even though my conscious knew he was, but instead he was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen (with the exception of Neil). He stood in a short and scant thong, and an open dress shirt. It was then I realized he'd done something I'd never seen before. He'd removed his eye patch and his glass eye, and his eye was completely bare. I'd never seen him like this before, and needless to say it was defiantly intimidating. He was standing tail a swish and was holding a pair of glasses of what looked like they contained champagne.

"Hey there champ." Dad said, swishing his hips and gliding towards me like some sort of heavenly disembodied angel. I almost wanted to hold up my hands and shout for him to stop walking like that, because it was a lot for me to take in all at once - so much beauty it was actually hurting me. Okay that sounds over sentimental but for fuck's sakes it was hot.

"Dad...I..." I said, taking the cup, and holding it tight.

"Shh. I understand you're nervous son. My heart has been beating a mile a minute all night. Did your time with the boys get you a little loosened up?"

I rubbed my rear end, still feeling slightly damp. "Eh...more or less...I'm no less nervous. I mean...I guess I'm still getting used to the idea dad."

"It's fine. Why don't you take off those clothes, and come to bed with us?"

I thought about it, and it seemed like a good idea. Despite my anxiety and old fears and taboos, this was my father and it was my son and these were two people that would love me unconditionally and physically no matter what happened.

I handed the glass back to my father and kicked off my shoes and socks and undid my pants, stepping out of them. Next I pealed off my shirt, standing naked before my father. I let out a sigh of relief, and it did feel better. I took my glass back, and took my father's hand. His hand, just as strong and just as nimble as mine, was a soft but reassuring feeling in my own. I felt my fears and tribulations running out of me like sweat, and in that utterly naked moment with my nearly similarly unclad father I was more clothed than I'd ever need to be.

Father lifted his glass and I raised mine, in the symbolic gesture of a proposition of a toast. "To family - a bond that no one will ever break again."

"To family." I agreed. We clapped the goblets together, and brought the drinks to our lips. Champaign had always tasted weird to me but it was perfect in that moment. It was as if the toast had made it twice as delicious.

"Cyric has been very eager to be with you again, as well as to show you a little something he's done to flatter you."

"What does he have in mind? Nothing too outlandish I hope."

Dad shook his head and took our empty glasses from us and set them down on an end table before starting to lead me towards your bedroom. "No I'm sure it's nothing very outlandish, but I'd take it as a sincere flattery attempt."

"This I'll have to see then."

"Of course you will."

And Dad and I didn't say another word; least not just yet. Father had a simple undecorated door, but with a fine finish that added to the modern touch and feel the rest of the house had. Even down to the marble colored doorknob.

I turned the knob at my father's behest, and opened the door. As the door slid open, my jaw dropped once more. Standing before me, was almost a mirror image of me - at least the young version of myself that I remember. Cyric was standing wearing nothing but a pair of tight spandex shorts of white with black boxer stripes; possibly even the very same pair of shorts I wore when I very first started out my adventures in apartment 232. Cyric had grown his hair as long as mine was at the time of my youth which was about mid back, and had even died his hair the light red-black that my hair was. His right ear had been done in a triple earring setup like mine. He sat on the edge of the bed, reclining slightly, staring me in the eyes with his tail swishing behind him like some kind of dark temptress that held just what I wanted.

I felt my penis hard, and about ready to be spat from my sheath. The sights and smells and feelings of my family close to me were causing me to loose my normal control before anyone had even touched me. "My...devil...almighty..." I said aloud, "Cyric you look just like me."

"Of course I do daddy - I thought about how to dress, and I decided to dress like the sexiest man in the world for you."

I felt my father behind me now, wrapping his arms around me and beginning to caress my chest from behind. I could sense his erection pressed to my buttocks and the cleft of my cheeks, being housed by the meager fabric of his undergarment. His mouth wrapped around the base and back of my neck and slid one of his hands onto my cock. With one pull of his hand, my length was spat out of the furry sheath, and gave a jet of precum that hit my son square on the stomach from where I stood. He gave a moan of appreciation, and looked up at my father.

"Lets get this started daddies." He said before standing up, and moving over towards me.

Dad stroked me, gently and painfully slowly, working his hand in a bottle neck motion and definitely attempting to keep me hard. His result, of his mouth upon my neck and his hand upon my penis was more than enough to ensure a long evening of leisurely activities. My son then moved close and moved his mouth upon my chest. His lips were red hot, and were almost stinging me as he moved them over my body. I allowed myself to relax, laying my form against father's back, and brushed my tail against his crotch in a flirting display, and a conveyance of my want.

"I don't think Renee has the time for too much foreplay so lets do something special."

"Sure thing gramps."

The pair then stripped, pulling their clothes off, and moved me towards the bed. I laid down flat, my length dripping with precum, and with needy seed. I bit my lip, and looked up as the pair of nude foxes moved over me. My father adjusted his sheath, and his length laid against mine. Our penises were identical in shape and size, our colors off only slightly. I hissed in pleasure as the hot flesh of our meat touched one another, and gripped the sheets, closing my eyes and allowing whatever was about to transpire to take place.

It was then I felt something I'd never experienced before. I felt my father wrap his hands underneath our knots, and hold our phalluses outward, and then a mouth envelop us. Both my father and I gasped and grunted in surprise and in an attempt to adjust to the new stimulation. I opened my eyes, and saw Cyric, laying on his stomach between us, carefully working both his father and grandfather's dicks right into his eager young muzzle. It was a tight, warm and wet fit, but I'll be damned if it didn't feel good. Slowly Cyric began to pump his head up and down as he'd found a proper channel for our lengths to follow, and moved the meat across the soft flesh of his tongue and cheeks and the sharp contrast of his ivory teeth.

Father stroked us gently behind the knots, it was a strong pleasure sensation. Father and I were particularly sensitive under the knot, and the combined pleasure I was receiving was a lot to take all at once. I had to remember my mental training form back when I was a porn star in order to endure this onslaught Cyric was giving me. I needed something however, I needed another cock in my mouth.

With a gentle tug, I moved my hands under my son and gave him a gentle adjustment, and moved his pelvis over my face, and plopped his length right down into my muzzle unceremoniously and took to sucking like a calf at the tit. Cyric lifted his head off our pricks and bayed out in pleasure as I'd easily devoured his underage and illicitly cub penis all the way down into my throat, and had locked my lips and fangs under my son's knot, and had started sucking for all my worth.

"Fuck yeah son that's it, suck the shit out of him." Dad said in a husky and masculine command. I didn't hear words however, merely tones of voice. My father's baritone hum signified a urge of continuation, while Cyric's girly moans were wimpers and whines to please not stop. I kept my eyes open and stared up at my son's young scrotum and heart shaped rear. I looked upon his young hole, and his flagging tail. My hands moved around his body and over his hips and thighs and in a sign of dominance I wrapped my fingers around his cheeks, and squeezed for all my might, and began to suck even more intensely. My son, gagging and gasping to get some air - his air knocked out of him from the glorious trepidation my oral sex had bestowed upon him - and then when he'd found his air, he brought his mouth back upon our dual pricks, and sucked.

"I...uh...wow....nnnnggggg" Dad began, pumping his perfect naked pelvis back and forth in my son's face. "I didn't know you've been practicing Cyric."

My son said nothing, but merely sucked harder on both cocks, his jaw surely strained to the point of near dislocation all for the benefit of our mutual pleasure. My own was perfectly fine as I tugged and nibbled at his knot, sending him into screams and cries and sobs of pleasure and delight. I knew just how to torture my son's cock, as it was the same way a certain group of gentlemen used to feast and gorge themselves upon my own phallus.

I then lifted Cyric up and had us switch positions to make it easier. My young and skinny son now laid with his young but excellent foxhood alongside my father's and I hovered above him now. I took aim, and stabbed my length right back inside my son's mouth with a gagging throated grunt of delight. I then opened my mouth wide, and sucked down upon my family's precum swathed rods of flesh. Father's encompassed the upper portion of my mouth and almost filled me completely, but Cyric's length fit snugly underneath and ran right along my tongue. He began to work his hips in a similar style to my own and pumped his babymaker in and out of my hungry mouth.

"Fuck yeah...that's it boys....nnnngggg." Dad said to egg us on. I felt Dad wrap his hands around my ears now, and tug, forcing me harder and faster upon his pillar. I couldn't be happier in that moment, my son sucking graciously at my semen steeple begging for my hot milk was just what I wanted. In fact I wanted more.

I sucked for as long as I physically could, 15 minutes give or take, before I spat out both cocks, and said. "I want to do...a double penetration."

"Topping or bottoming?" Dad asked.

"I want to bottom for you both, then we'll go from there."

Father and Cyric nodded and we both snaked our way off one another so we all could get into position. I was amazed at how graceful all of us were, we all moved with perfect timing and ingenuity it was like we'd all done this with one another before. It could have been the familiarity or the fact it was a sordid but loving act of incest that all of us seemed to know what the other was going to do and where they were going to move.

I resumed laying on my back, as father and son both moved themselves along side me, and both positioned their length at my throbbing and pulsating sphincter. It was there, that Micah had ridden me earlier, and now two more organs of masculinity would penetrate me and flood me with their incestuous sperm.

There was not much preparation, but I felt father penetrate me first. His head speared in, followed by the rest and even the knot itself locked its way in. He hooked my left leg, and nursed on one of my nipples, as Cyric grabbed a tube of lube, and greased himself up. His length then slid in alongside my father's and stretched me to the brink. My eyes were pried open and my mouth agape. Fortunately my son was small enough that when I finally felt the sledgehammer of pleasure nestled right against my g-spot when I felt myself double knotted, I grabbed my cock and held it to prevent myself from cumming.

"FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK! OHHHHHHHHHHhh SHIIITTTT!" I screamed.

Both Father and Son moved their hands over me, my son hooking the right leg, and rubbing my chest and stomach gently. Both said calming and soothing things to me, as I relaxed and grew used to the huge obstruction in my rectum. I nearly came from just the ramifications of what was happening alone, the first and third generation were now locked together in sex, inside the bridging generation. It was definitely hot to say the least.

I felt Cyric start this time, rocking his hips back and forth, my sphincter closing around both knots and holding them inside, while father joined in, in rocking his own. "Ohhhh fucking hell...so...so tight!" Dad groaned, licking and tugging at one of my nipples to keep his mouth busy.

"Yeah...you feel so good daddy...I missed this!" Cyric said.

He wasn't the only one that missed it, only the tall kick-boxing fox couldn't do much more than lay there and let it happen, and hold my throbbing prick to prevent my orgasam.

Their hands moved across me, building up my heat and building up my drive. I curled my toes and twitched my tail as my chute was plugged by the pulsating prick's of my parental body and my precious offspring. They didn't work against one another in a piston, but worked together, which made me rock against the bed and made me ride the waves of their sexual advance. I could feel the pressure built up inside my bowels, like I wanted to defecate badly but the pleasure soon overrode the body's urges, and I was at Nirvana.

What came next was like a glass statue in my brain shattering, and I lost all control of myself. Semen literally erupted out of me for lack of a better word. The first jet managed to squirt and spray the ceiling, and then the urine like white milk stream of my cum began to jet all over all of us. All I could see was the jets of white spraying literally at every conceivable angle and out from between my fingers like when one applies pressure to the nozzle of a hose and forces the water out. I realized I was ejaculating but the orgasm didn't quite reach my brain until a few seconds later. My whole body tensed, every muscle contracted at once, and I emitted a scream that was not unlike being chopped to bits by an axe murderer. It was like I was being electrocuted with pleasure, I couldn't breath, or speak. All I could do was ejaculate, and shoot my load all over the three of us.

That didn't stop them at all, the pair only became more incessant in their incest, and began to stroke my ejaculating cock, while they pumped their penises into my contracting valley.

Cyric went next, screaming out with his face coated in my sperm, and shot his load inside of me, filling me up nicely, while father soon followed. Father's jets helped open me up even further, and I lifted my back so I could ensure the flow would go deep inside my body. My penis was still spraying all over the place, more than I'd ever released at once.

We all laid there for about 10 solid minutes, riding out our orgasms, all three of us very soaked in sperm. Cyric then gave his cock a tug, and it squirted out of my length along with a half pint of sperm, and he climbed up my body. Father adjusted himself and rolled us on our sides, as Cyric impaled himself on my cock, and began to ride me.

"Don't fight it son, just let it happen." Dad barked in my ear lovingly. My sensitive cock could do nothing but make me writhe in that near electrocuting pleasure seizure I'd just endured and no more then 5 minutes later, I was cumming deep inside my own son's hot, tight ass.

Cyric then collapsed dead against the bed, and didn't move again. He just breathed, and panted in pleasure and spat out a few more flecks of his boyseed against the already flooded bed. Father licked my face, and nuzzled me gently.

"If I haven't said it yet son, welcome home."

I smiled and drew what felt like my first breath of life ever and said. "Indeed, I am home, and may Hell help anyone that tries to take this from me."

My father squeezed us together, and throbbed a bit inside of my passage, and licked my lips. "That-a-boy."

* * *

Morning came much faster than I had, and I loathed the dawn. I could feel the sun's searing naked rays of light upon my face, and I hated it. It wasn't the sun that I hated, it was the fact that I hadn't got much sleep after the night before, and I craved it. I craved sleep much like a heroin addict needs a fix. Sleep withdrawal...isn't that all being tired was? Maybe that's all fatigue is, another symptom of withdrawal.

Well another hit of sleep would have been nice. But I had made a promise to my father, and I wasn't about to break it. Cyric lay sprawled across my chest, his hair spilling over my neck and shoulders. Father lay on his back with his face away from me, his chest rising and falling slowly. He had taken out his glass eye before going to sleep, and had put on his patch, but seeing his face revealed last night was more sobering than anything I'd encountered before - it was like seeing the eye of death and knowing that father had escaped it's gaze once and was able to lay next to me now.

And my Cyric, the very fruit of my loins, the very product of my seed was flawless as far as I knew, save the mental scarring of the near sacrifice and the sexual abuse of strangers. Every time I thought of someone else placing their hands on my son, a feral flash of rage would rush through me like a freight train being driven by a bat out of hell. A beast would rise up and unfurl it's mighty wings and rear its terrible fangs inside of me when my mind pondered what it would be like if someone were to take my boy from me.

As I lay there, sprawled in a loving embrace with my son, I asked myself what was the greatest thing I'd ever done? The answer each time I asked was always creating Cyric. I've made countless pornographic videos, I've made one major motion picture, and I've pieced together hundreds of outfits - but all of it is worthless compared to the living breathing fox that lay naked atop me. Doubtlessly the semen I expelled to create him was not just expelled in vain, and that same substance was inside of him still these few hours later, just as his was in my body. It was intimate beyond the confines of what normal society could ever hope to fathom when they think of the word "intimate". What the three of us committed last night was indeed to many still a social vice, and yet the most intimate and beautiful thing in the world to me.

But alas, as my hands crept over the cleft of his juvenile buttocks and over his developing shoulder blades, I wondered how long this would last? Nearly everything had been taken away from me at one point, and I wondered how long was it before either Cyric was taken, or he lost interest in me? What if this erotic entanglement of incest was temporary and just a phase we were all going through?

Then for fucks sake I was going to enjoy every second and every ounce of him.

I had to be gentle, but I transferred Cyric from my chest to the bed, and removed myself from it. My legs wobbled for a moment, but my martial arts kicked in and I was able to compensate. My head was throbbing, but it cleared.

Micah's BDSM straps were still where I had dropped them the night before, and were still stained with his semen. He'd probably want to clean them later, but for now I didn't have the time, I had somewhere to be...after coffee and breakfast.

Since dad and I were roughly the same size, I opened his drawers and produced a set of simple Hanes BVD style briefs, good old white cotton tidy-whities. They were run-of-the-mill but I always considered them sexy too. Next I found a pair of dad's dark brown khaki's and I pulled down one of his matching beige work shirts. I decided against a tie, but I did slick my hair back with some of dad's jell and began to walk downstairs.

My step dad was standing there in his boxer shorts, smoking a cigarette on the back porch.

"I...still can't get over it you know." He said, not even looking at me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, adjusting to the feeling of wearing clothes again and grabbing some of the Frosted Flakes from on top of the fridge and helping myself to some milk and a bowl.

"You...you Renee. I remember when he used to look at me like that."

I searched for the spoons before the panther pointed out the drawer with his tail. "Yeah, I mean, there was a time when he'd come home, and his eyes would crawl over my form, just because he knew how much he wanted me but I wouldn't let him have it."

I blinked, and said nothing, not really knowing how to respond to that. I made a slight grunt of acknowledgement.

"I mean look at you - you're his...son! You're his son for Jesus' sake...and you're...he's...you...I just can't bare it."

I set down the spoon after a few mouthfuls and crossed my legs. "Look, if it bothers you that much, take it up with dad, but I can't really change what's happened."

"No, you can't, but...he is my husband after all."

"Then act like one." I said closing my eyes and spooning another helping of Frosted Flakes into my mouth. "Stop bitching about it and either do something about it, stand by and deal with it, or leave. Those are really the only three real options I can think of at this moment."

"Do something about it? Like what?" He asked, turning on the ball of his foot and walking towards me. It was the first time I'd seen him in his underwear. He was fit, but was beginning to show signs of getting a belly. His muscles were starting to go in various places. He was still a looker, but not complete grade-A eye candy like myself or dad.

"Talk to Ritch for once, get over this stupid germ-a-phobia you have...something. Otherwise one of these days, you're going to find that you're just a treasure behind the glass to dad, and nothing more than something worth admiring from afar if at all. After a while, people start to not want what they can't have."

"Look sex is just gross to me, it's so...messy and nasty and vile...ugh." He said, shivering in front of me.

"You know I never even really had the chance in life to ask myself if I thought sex was icky. But you know, you've spent what...over seven years denying dad sex, and he's tired of it. You were the one that said it was okay he fools around with other guys, and now you're all uptight about it. Like I said, do something about it, or stop the complaining."

"But you're his son! I thought it was just an obsession until..."

I blinked "Until what?"

"Until the day you two met. Every fucking day since you grew up it was Renee this Renee that. You've seen that shrine dedicated to his worship of you in his cubicle; well I've had to look at that particular altar for years and now I realize what it was all about. It wasn't fan worship it was his unhealthy fixation with you his son. Now you've taken it beyond what's a healthy level and have consummated...and now he doesn't need me anymore."

I finished my drink and crossed my arms. "He does need you, weather you want to realize it or not. The relationship the three of us have is special, because we're all we have family wise. The sex is our way of showing our affection for one another as family, not as husbands or as lovers. I have no plans of taking Ritch as a husband or marrying Cyric. You can't really blame your failing marriage on anything more than the fact that Ritch loves you, and would love to express it to you in something more than words or a formal handshake." I said turning and heading towards the cars. I still didn't have a license but at least I could drive now. "If your marriage fails, it's your fault, not mine and not anyone else's."

I left the panther sobbing in the kitchen, a wreck as I'd ever seen him. Honestly I loved my Step dad but I didn't have the time to change his diapers so to speak. I'd been through enough lately to really solve his problems with dad - yes I was part of his problems, but I really didn't have much in the means of a solution to offer. I wasn't being an ass about it either, but I was in deep enough as it was and wasn't looking forward to getting in any deeper.

I hopped in Dad's B.M.W. and pulled out, and began the drive towards Covina where I would inevitably be meeting the Lotus.

The drive was uneventful, save the high traffic around the Arena due to all the police and federal activity, but I made it to Lotus' house without a hitch.

Ishanka was living in a 2 story Townhouse on Morris Avenue. There was Ishanka's motorcycle in the front driveway along with his Jaguar. He drove the Jaguar for formal events, but rode the Motorcycle for practical day-to-day activities. I pulled up as far as I could get into the driveway, and exited the car, looking out at the humble home that belonged to one of the most famous and infamous gay porn stars in the world.

I knocked on the door and waited for it to be answered. Fortunately I didn't have to wait long. The door opened, and a young raccoon whom had to have been just 18, answered. He had a body that looked like a developing woman's and was dressed in little more than a full body fishnet with a vinyl thong that housed his small coon-hood. A thick metal collar complete with lock was latched around his throat. His eyes weren't watery or shaky so he had to have been one of Ishanka's better pets, or at least one that hadn't been broken yet.

"Yes?" He asked, looking me right in the eyes. Good discipline. His voice was a soft whisper just like Ishanka's was. I was beginning to wonder if he was teaching them all to talk like him too.

"Is Lotus here?"

"Do you have an appointment?" He asked, still giving me eye contact.

"N-no I don't but I'm a colleague of his, and somewhat of an acquaintance. He does know me if that's what you're after."

The teen blinked, as if to acknowledge he'd just been spoken too, yet didn't recognize or pay attention to half of what I just said. "Name?"

"Renee Morningstar, but he may know me better as Ne-Ne."

The male then turned around and closed the door softly. It wasn't a rejection, just his precautionary duty. I'm sure Ishanka had all sorts of reporters, and tabloid photographers all over him, much like I had all over me at one point - now I'm lucky to get a weight gain article in Weekly World News.

As I began to contemplate that the elastic bands in the briefs were staring to chafe ever so slightly, the door opened again, but this time I was greeted by an albino greyhound with the longest head of hair I'd ever seen on another person; done in a French braid, and dyed magenta to match his albino eyes which were hidden behind a pare of square shaped wire rimmed glasses that were also shaded to match the magenta motif. It was also the most clothed I'd ever seen him - normally the outfit the coon was wearing would have been considered winter formal for Ishanka - he was wearing a white silk button up shirt with an overly large collar and cuffs, which was tucked into a pair of form fitting leather pants. Two chains hung from one hip and dangled diagonally from one hip to the other like a sash. A pricy looking Rolex donned his left wrist, and a matching and equally expensive diamond and platinum bracelet covered the other one. From his good ear, he wore one platinum hoop earring, and a few diamond studs in his marred right ear. From his mouth, sat one of his trademark cigars (not the good kind you tweekers), smoking like a chimney in the cool weather.

Those eyes though, those magenta eyes that had seen much and had seen places I'd never even been to and acts of incomprehensible violence, looked over me as if one was inspecting an insect that was crawling across the wall. Then the eyes moved down, and back up in the traditional elevator eyes that spoke of curiosity as he took in my details. Finally he took the cigar out of his mouth, and held it in his right hand and said. "What is it Ne-ne?" Ishanka asked in his raspy whisper.

"Well, I'm pretty sure you know why I'm here." I said, giving him the same respect he was showing me, and staring him in the eyes.

"Renee the last time you showed up in my presence, you put me in the hospital. It took me months of plastic surgery to get my chest back to normal, and when I start getting on my feet I'm accused of homicide Renee...homicide. I don't kill people, but a court seemed to think I did. What's more, the lawyers of the opposing side were under the employ of one Alex Fletcher...someone who seems to have you in recent employ." Ishanka said before narrowing his eyes and taking a drag off his cigar, holding it for a few beats, and then finally exhaling. "The company of death Renee. Fletch-co is death weather you want to realize it or not. There are four horses of the apocalypse: War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death; Fletch-co brings all of these in it's path. Thanks to you Renee several gay porn stars are out of work because your boss bought out the number one gay porn company on the west coast and have been turning out humiliation videos of you in it's wake. Fletcher sent the best director in the business back to his homeland, and murdered innocent people."

I lowered my eyes away from him and stared at our feet. "What do you expect me to say? I don't think sorry will cut it."

"No, I expect you to tell me how it feels." Ishanka barked, placing a claw to my chin, bringing my gaze up to his. "And look at me when I'm talking to you bitch."

"Y-yessir."

Ishanka stared at me, glaring from behind his glasses, his skinny yet athletic chest rising and falling from behind his shirt. "Well?"

"Well what?" I asked, not trying to be impertinent

"Tell me how your pain feels."

"Well Lotus, it hurts more than I had ever imagined. I've experienced physical pain, depression, and mental anguish to the point that I've ran away from home and was a recluse for a while. The pain was so great, I gave up and welcomed death. It hurt worse than getting run over that night, I'm telling you I couldn't accurately describe it better, that's how horrible it felt for me."

Ishanka blew smoke out of his nose, and made a long condescending noise, before he spoke again. "Good. You're not a complete disappointment to me Renee."

"I...appreciate that."

"Speak your peace before I begin to remember why I'm mad at you."

I gulped and decided to go for it. "We want to overthrow Alex and his goon squad, and take down Spike and his syndicate. Dad - err - I wanted to ask you to help, if you would loan us your expertise in interrogation and torture, like the plan was with Felcher."

Ishanka laughed softly and said. "You're father eh? I thought your father abandoned you, just like mine did back home."

I shook my head and ran a hand over my head. "No, he's actually been watching me from above so to speak. He works for the FBI, and has been watching me since I was a baby grow up. Don't ask me why he didn't come for me before, it's a lot of drama really, but I do have a dad, and he told me that it would be in my best interest if I came and spoke to you."

"And let me guess, you didn't want to?"

I shook my head and kept looking at him. "Honestly no, because I was pretty sure you were going to say no. After all the things that have happened to you recently, I didn't think you'd even give me the time of day."

Ishanka chuckled once more, and stamped out his cigar on the front step with his bare foot, and then whipped it on the welcome mat. "Come in for a few, lets talk."

I gave a hopeful smile and stepped inside. After walking past the stairs and closet, and descending the step into the sunken living room. I noticed Ishanka's interior motif was almost the antithesis of everything you'd imagine when you think of his personality and character. He was famous for his leather, chains, metal, granite, glass style rooms - IE anything painful and foreboding. Instead what we had here was one of the most comfortable and soft looking living room set ups you could have ever imagined: The carpet was just short of shag and running a little long and dark brown in color, and the couches were of a material that I couldn't identify just by looking at it. The chairs matched the couches, and even the coffee and end tables were of subtle and gentle wood tones. The pictures on the wall were of fine nature scenes like trees and lakes that I've never been to. Three large plasma flat-screen big-screen televisions were set up amphitheatre style against the wall to you immediate right, which separated the room from the kitchen, and the dining room was a straight shot forward through the open door into the back area. Even the dining room setup looked cozy and comfortable.

Ishanka walked over to one of two L shaped couches that wrapped around the living room closest to the fireplace to give everyone a clear view of the Television sets, which seemed to have been synchronized on an old classic horror movie. After seeing the creature that the scientists were running from suck the bone matter out of it's victim I had to believe Ishanka was watching Island of Terror. Who knew that one of the greatest deviant sexual minds there was watched B movies and cult classics.

"I know, stunning isn't it?"

It was then I realized he was speaking to me and my jaw was hanging out. The house, to be brutally honest wasn't even that big of a house, and most likely was a step and a half above a ghetto district like the one my current apartment was (until Heinrich ended up moving us). The reason I was so stunned was probably because this was so out of character for Ishanka, and not what I expected at all.

"It's definitely a nice setup you've got here." I said, continuing to take it all in.

"Not what you expected is it?"

"Not to be rude, but nope. I was thinking I was going to walk into some sort of dungeon and in stead of TV be serenaded to the whimpering and cries of agony that normally come from your clients and students. But this I would never have expected in a million years Lotus - it's almost like the home I had as a child."

Ishanka smiled and sank into his seat, and folded his long legs, and cracked his knuckles. "I want my guests and clients to feel welcome. Renee, being a master as well as being a slave is more than just being shackled up in chains and leather and put in a sensory deprivation chamber: a bigger part of it is the gaining of trust between master and slave and that both parties understand and know one another. Imagine you didn't know me Renee at all and you had just responded to my add; then you stroll through my door to see some slave drinking urine out of a dog dish while he gets shocked with a cattle prod? No, I don't play the game like that. It's all about making you my guest feel welcome."

"Or it's about luring them into a false sense of security so you can snap the lid of the trap down on them." I said with a chuckle.

"In rare cases yes."

We both sighed, and watched the TV for a few moments, taking the moment to appreciate the levity between us, before Ishanka spoke again.

"Bring me up to speed."

And I told him. Ever little snippet and every little detail about the hell I'd endured since the death of Michael Fletcher. For a man who feels no pain, he could be surprisingly empathetic when it came to natural emotions. I watched his face change with every little twist and turn, and I didn't leave out any details.

When I was through he ran a hand over his braid, and flicked the cherry off his cigarette into a green ashtray sitting on an end table. "It's an interesting story, and I suppose you've suffered enough."

I didn't say anything because it looked like he had more to say but I just nodded.

"I am...disappointed that someone thinks they can encroach on an area that is indisputably mine. The realms of pain, torment, and suffering are MINE!" He said with a sudden slap of his palm against the coffee table in front of him. It made me jump, but I think that was his intended purpose. "When I came here, I was given a chance to change my life around, and truly bring my vision to live! But now, some young upstart mink comes into my kitchen and start's telling me he's baking the cookies? Not on my watch."

"So what's this mean?"

"Your father wants to interrogate the mink's men, well I think my techniques for interrogation are a bit better for results than your father's - no offence Renee."

"None taken."

"Here's what I want you do. I want you to bring all your targets to my club, and they'll crack. Trust me."

"I trust you."

"Good, now if you don't mind, I was actually in the middle of a phone call when you came over, I don't mean to be rude, but I have to get back to it, it's kind of long distance."

"The strippers in Hawaii?"

"Hey...they are a pair of great dancers, and a great pair of friends. You could learn from them." He said before pointing to the door. "Now scoot, I'll be in touch. My people will contact your people."

"Since when do I have 'people'?"

Ishanka blinked from behind his glasses and looked at me. "The fuck do I know? I will be in touch either way. Now scoot, before I chain you up and make you stay a while." He said, narrowing his eyes and curling a lip in a smile.

"Erh...no that's quite alright. Spent the night in a sling and in bed with the family...I'm a little tuckered out."

Ishanka laughed once and shook his head. "Wimp. Now go."

* * *

One week later...

* * *

Everything was going according to plan - within reason. Alex bent over his stack of paperwork, suspenders down, tie loosened, and sleeves rolled up. Sweat ran down his forehead, and his hands felt wet cold and clammy. He knew that tomorrow was going to be my Pearl Harbor and everything had to work like clockwork. Heckyl and Jeckyl had Cyric's school routine down to the letter, and knew just how they were going to nab him - between 5th and 6th period when he leaves class to use the bathroom. His bodyguards couldn't accompany him inside, and this gave them the chance to wait inside and strike.

Although this plan had such potential for failure. The big lugs might hurt the kid accidentally, and he knew damaged goods weren't as promising in a hostage situation as someone whom was perfectally healthy and aware of what could happen. On the other hand, Alex was in favor of a broken limb...yeah...maybie...just maybie...

"I could break his legs...yes! I could break his legs and set up a camera and send it to that little douchebag. Yeah...that would make Spike proud. That'll show Spike I know what it takes to do this...I can see his face now...smiling for me. I'll even pull a move right out of that trashy King movie... the Kathy Lee Bates thing...yeah that's the ticket..." He thought to himself, rubbing his sweating brow and trying to at the same time focus on the TPS reports and the charts and graphs in front of him.

But he couldn't concentrate. It was getting late in the afternoon, and it was near closing time. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep that night without a good fucking...not that there was any problem with that, but he'd still be a bit sore in the morning.

The newspaper in the garbage can next to him on the other hand made him think otherwise of enjoying his sex with Spike later that evening. There I was on the cover, standing in press conference shaking hands with a tiger in a business suit. The banner headline read:

"Morningstar Gives Fletch-co a Stern Slap in the Face"

A slap in the face indeed! The very nerve! Alex wondered what I was thinking blatantly disobeying him like this. He began to ask himself of all the businessmen in the world why did it had to be his arch rival business wise, none other than Ted Stern.

"How could you?! I'm going to be ruined you little prick! I should sue you for slander you fart-catching fairy fox. Of all the twits you had to pick to endorse you had to choose HIM? It's absurd, that tiger must be licking his chops knowing what kind of meat has just walked into his world. Well that's MY meat, I saw him first, it's mine!"

Alex considered sending Ted Stern an angry letter saying that my actions were nothing more than a slanderous message of hate directed at his company under the guidance of Stern's affiliates. Well that WAS what it was, but Alex could really only suspect, he had no hard evidence other than the fact that I'd met with Stern and his people.

Alex was within a needle's eye of grabbing his pen and paper, when his door opened. The walking baby factory Mercadies moved her way in, reading off her piece of paper. Alex marveled how she sounded like Jennifer Tilly when she talked.

"Mr. Fletcher sir, there's a pair of men to see you."

Alex raised an eyebrow and placed his hands on his hips. "A pair of men? Mercadies, you know I'm not taking any appointments especially from just 'a pair of men'. Don't show them in unless they have identification or tell you who they are. For Christ's sake, you think I see just any Tom and Dick that walk up to the desk and strut up in here?"

She bit her lip and shook her head. "No sir. But-"

"But? But what? Are you about to presume to tell me - your boss - that there is an exception to the rule that I've laid out for you? It's simple, no one gets in without an appointment or without identification."

"No sir I wasn't going to contradict you...it's just that they do have an appointment."

Alex was a bit stunned by that one. He didn't recall allowing an appointment for this time slot. "Oh do they?"

"Yes sir. The downstairs receptionist said that they had one, so they're waiting outside for you in the waiting room."

Alex turned around and cursed inside of his head. Damn her ignorance! She was going to be the bane of him he knew it. If it wasn't for good business she'd have been mounted in the collection room for sure...well there's still time for that.

Alex faced her once again and gave her his eyes and he said. "Fine. They came all the way up here, amiss all the construction and all the noise...I don't see why we can't be sporting and give them a little of my time. Send them in."

She nodded and turned around, but was stopped by Alex clearing his throat. She looked over her shoulder and bit her lip once again. "Oh and Mercadies...so you're aware I had no recollection of making an appointment for this time slot...so if this happens again, either you or that boy at the desk downstairs are going to find themselves in the unemployment line very hastily. And understand, that if I find out who's fault it is, it's not going to be that person I fire it's going to be the other - so the guilty party knows that a promising career was cut short because of their own stupidity. Now go and send them in, I obviously have a lot to prepare for now don't I?"

"Yessir." She said, quickly walking out the door making a loud "thack thack" with her high heels as she walled.

Alex collected his suit coat and threw it on, just as a pair men walked through the door. Alex stopped mid motion, as he came to see just whom had stepped through his doorway. His jaw clenched, in shock anger and horror, his eyes narrowing, and focusing on the taller man.

"How you got an appointment with me is beyond my comprehension. I'm half tempted to call security and have you thrown out for wasting my time." Alex said, putting his arms down in an aggressive display of his frustration and angst.

"But then who would be here now to annoy you and make you suffer right?" The taller man asked in a thick German accent.

The taller man was a Doberman, dressed up in a fine vintage suit that looked like it came from the 40's, probably genuine Italian too. He was as strapping and strong Doberman as Alex had ever seen. Next to him stood a much shorter, skinnier mouse dressed up in a white suit, white tie and shirt with a silver Star of David tie pin. He wore wire-framed glasses and carried a fedora of matching white and gray under his arm.

"Oh joy, I was looking for some entertainment. What do you say we grab some string Heinrich and go to the construction level and go fly a Kike?"

The mouse rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Oi if I had a dollar for every time I heard that one and it was actually funny...I'd have a dollar." The mouse said, looking down at his feet.

"Whatever you say Mr. Swerdlowe. But I have to ask, is the temperature okay in here? I can always turn on a furnace if you need it." Alex said, turning to look out the window, entertaining both thoughts of tossing the Jew over the side of the building and watching him roast like Kosher sausages on a spick.

The Doberman cleared his throat and walked across the floor towards Alex's desk. It was moment's like this that Alex wished he had one of those trap doors you see in the cartoons that drop your unwanted guests to no where. He'd so press it right now, and drop these two unwanted wretches back into the sewers where they belonged - headfirst preferably. The sun was down, and the moon was on the rise, just like Alex's temper. "Fletcher you can stop cutting down my partner. He's quite knowledgeable about what he does and could definitely tell you a thing or two."

Alex scoffed and remained staring out the window. "Yes possibly. You are aware that I own Karrots? The vegetarian restaurant chain? Swerdlowe if I want advice on investing in Deli's, need a good doctor or lawyer recommended I'd give you a call."

Ben laughed to himself and hummed for a moment. "You know you're a real fucking comedian Fletcher, I didn't know the circus was in town."

"Oh, that's a good comeback Swerdlowe, I think that's the best comeback a Hebrew has made since holocaust wouldn't you say Heinrich? Oh yeah that's right who won that war I kind of slept through history class."

Heinrich adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. "Alex one of the most fundamental aspects of business as you know is that time equals money and that time well spent is money well earned - so as someone like me that respects the value of time I suggest you respect this meeting and quit wasting both our money."

Alex perked his tail and an ear and turned his head ever so slightly in the German's direction. A few thoughts flew through his head at once: Where did he get that smashing pinstripe suit? Why did he have to be right? Could I have him deported like that damn porn director? But ultimately the question as to why Heinrich had to be right won the contest for first place in Alex's mind. Damn him. "Oh? Since when do I have my money invested in this meeting? Last time I checked I had no clue you were coming let alone in the city. Had I known you were coming I'd have broken out a Manichevitz in honor of this occasion-" He said, stealing the mouse a quick glance then turning back towards Heinrich." Come to think about it I just might do that. Why I'm not sure other than the fact that I'm utterly bemused why you're here."

Alex paged the downstairs receptionist and had him fetch a bottle of Manichevitz wine from his business stores in the basement. It took a while to find as Alex only had one, and only bought it as a joke, but soon the chilled wine was brought, and served to the three as they sat around Alex's desk.

Ben took his with a grain of salt, half wondering if it'd been poisoned. He swirled, sniffed, dabbed, licked and sampled the glass half to death and much to the outward annoyance of Alex, before he sipped his glass. Heinrich, whom Alex decided was very cool and calculating and almost scientifically dissecting of his every move, now understood that perhaps it was the time for tact rather than listening to his own personal devil which was pointing a big pitchfork in Ben's direction. Alex would have to sit on his metaphorical hot coals for now until he could fend them off. He decided he was going to bide his time and play their game for now until he knew just what they had up their sleeves. No throwing them out would be an act of desperation, and Spike would punish him for that...and not only that throwing them out might show that he suspected them both of something and suspicion and business went together like sodium and water.

"Alright, spill it. What do you want?" Alex asked, calmly and politely - for as calm and polite as he figured he could be.

"Mr. Fletcher, we want you to understand that Renee Morningstar is no longer your exclusive property and is now undersigned to our company. Mr. Morningstar hereby demands you discontinue any form of communication or interaction with him or his people, and that you discontinue distribution of any and all pornographic videos made since the purchase of Adam & Steve adult films last year. Mr. Morningstar demands adequate compensation for royalties and for 'personal anguish' that he has suffered as a result of the actions of you and your company."

Alex held perfectly still, with the exception of sipping the grape wine he was drinking. Slowly he set down the goblet, and placed it right over my face on the newspaper he was reading not long prior. "That's what this is about isn't it? You're here about the fox. Before I speak, I am to understand...he's suing me?"

Heinrich just nodded and raised a finger towards Ben. Without even missing a beat, Ben continued. "Mr. Morningstar has given us his power of attorney. All Mr. Morningstar's legal issues are now the issues of our company and it's shareholders. We feel that he is entitled to compensation for the actions you and your partner have perpetrated upon our client and feel that he should be duly paid for the acts of depravity that he was forced to commit under the threat of blackmail and physical violence."

"'Perpetrated'? My oh my...heavens!" Alex said with a chuckle and a laugh. He then lowered his glass, and took a sharp breath. "Understand one thing. Morningstar - always was - and always will be mine weather its on paper or not. Morningstar's rights to fairness and polite treatment went out the window when coerced my brother into suicide through means if constant harassment and verbal abuse. Not to mention if you watch the security tapes of that day my brother ended his life you'll see he had quite the force behind him - now how fair is that?"

Heinrich cleared his throat and set his glass down on the armrest of his chair. "Alex you know as well as I do that's not going to hold up in any court. Though I do have to admit you're rather crafty Alex. You've played a great game of chess haven't you this last year? You set the table-" Heinrich said, placing his hands in front of him to demonstrate "And you take your sides. You are obviously the great king, and Spike your queen - the one with the true power. And one by one you-" Heinrich continued, making little flicking motions with one hand while walking his fingers across the palm of the other. "take out the enemy king and queen's knights and rooks and bishops and decimate their pawns. Now you can do anything you like with them cause they have no defenses left."

Heinrich leaned forward in his seat and narrowed his eyes. "The game's not over. Apparently some of the pawns in this game have become queens and now are making the once weak force stronger and it's a new game Alex. Your brother's actions against Renee were just the opening Gambit in this game that started long ago and since your brother obviously wasn't big enough for his pants called in big brother to play the game."

"I'll have you know that I'm quite familiar with chess and am no ignorant fool when it comes to the game Heidenreich. This is a deadly game that we've been playing and only one person can come out on top - even in a stalemate both sides loose I'll hope you know."

"That I do, but fortunately for me I've had a lot longer to perfect the game than even you have. I was playing the game of chess while you were still suckling at your father's prick...wasn't I?"

Alex swiftly flushed and turned his head towards the window again, clearing his throat. "That's not business appropriate and we shall not discuss that further." Alex said shortly.

"But he's right isn't he?"

Alex shuddered and nodded. "Yes...and might I add...for a man of your age you hide it very well...sir." Alex muttered with a further cringe.

"You make it sound as if I'm positive ancient...flatter me some more would you? I haven't felt an urge to laugh since Nixon was in office."

Alex shook his head and looked back at the Doberman and pointed a finger in his direction. "I still want to know how you know so much about me."

"And I'd like for you to adhere to our demands and requests - if you even heard any of them that is to say."

Alex grumbled and chugged the wine in his glass and set it back down hard on my picture and folded his arms across his chest. "I don't like how you walk in here, cock all a-swingin'. If you want to play the big dick game I can, but it's going to get messy."

Heinrich smiled and pulled his lips back, Alex noticed the fangs...very sharp looking that protruded from the inside of Heinrich's mouth. His glass eyes, his cool stunning glare...sent shivers down his spine. "Ben, I do believe he just made a come-on now didn't he?" He said before throwing his head back and laughing in a deep, resonating laugh that felt as if it was coming from inside Alex's head rather than from his mouth. Alex never liked being in this man's presence...the man was at least 60 years old if not older and worked on dead people for a living. That was just...sick.

"Oh stop it. I'd never even entertain the thought of touching my perfect body with yours, not for all the riches in the world." Alex said with an emphatic humf.

Heinrich stopped his laughter and licked his lips. "You have our demands. Full royalties compensation, discontinuation of distribution of all unwanted viewing material of sensitive subject matter, and you're to stay out of his life."

"And if I don't? Are you aware the money that I'm making off those video sales alone? There's quite the market of sick perverts out there that are interested in that kind of movie. I'm sure Renee will be able to be cast in a movie and do a good...victim role - the way he acts he'd be a natural."

"Just like you'd be the perfect villain." Ben said, turning his glass over, and dumping the wine right onto Alex's rug.

Alex, seeing this, gritted his teeth and stared at the mouse, "Mousy, there's a reason why there's less than 4000 Jews left in Poland today, and if you want to find out first hand and get a free history lesson by all means continue your impudent little display. Or perhaps we should test the theory of how good a Jew can survive alone in a desert - I hear a really famous one did it for 40 days...but I doubt you'd last even that long."

"And then of course you'd leave me little recourse Alex, and as a Chief Medical Examiner I hope you're aware that I know just how to...prepare a body."

Alex stood abruptly and placed his hands on his desk. "Whatever. Listen here Kike and Kraut up in smoke, that's what you're going to be when we're through here. When I talk to my father and my legal team, they'll see you shut down. You're obviously only doing this as an intimidation factor to try to ruin my company and attempting a hostile take over. Well I'll see you in court for this, I can fight bare-knuckled too if you want and it's your turn now weather it's 3, 10, or 20 rounds we go."

Heinrich narrowed his eyes and said. "'When I was a child I behaved like a child - acted like a child and thought like a child. Now I am a man and have put away my childhood things', strong words Alex I suggest you do the same and understand that the scales of justice are also the scales of eternity and all that matters is if it's Madame Justice or the Reaper that comes for you first."

"Is that a threat?" Alex said, pulling his own lips back in a snarl.

"No Alex Fletcher, it's a reminder that it's time you grew up and moved on and realize the gallows you're actually building when you think you're building an empire."

But before Alex could have time to rebuttal Heinrich stood and gave Alex his back. Ben shot Alex a glare, and set his glass firmly upon the desk and leaned in "The wine was horrible by the way." Before turning around and joining his partner in walking out the door.

When the office double doors closed, Alex raked his hand across his paperwork in a fury and sent it flying, cursing at the top of his lungs. He fell to his knees on the carpet in front of him, grabbing the phone and calling for the maid. Once she was on her way he slammed the phone down.

"Oh those impudent, upstarts! Oh what...what....ugh I can't even think of a word!" He yelled to himself. "And my rug...this is an heirloom! Dad's going to rape me for this..." He said, knowing his dad mostly likely would rape him for it. Alex pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and began to dab at the still soaking wet stain in the rug. The white cloth was soon stained purple as he dabbed it.

"They're going to regret this...I'm Alex Fletcher! No one messes with me and lives... I am going to make them all pay once and for all. I will make sure no one, not even Spike forgets my name! Everyone will now bear witness as my voice will echo into eternity long after these upstarts have faded into nothing but a dim memory!"