Rage

"Well why doesn't it work, Garrett?!" the rat yelled. The business owner pulled on the lever angrily, and the two mechanical parts that were meant to glide past each other instead clanked together loud enough for the whole factory to hear, which was clearly the point. The fucker always liked making a scene, like he was compensating for being such a pathetic stunted size.

Because your retarded son fucked up the mould again, Garrett thought, clenching his fists with growing fury but remaining silent. The big white bull was simmering with such rage he thought his red eyes might be glowing. But what could he say, as his little rodent prick of a boss went a humiliating tirade about Garrett's supposed failures in front of his coworkers yet again? Anyone who pointed out that stupidity ran in their superior's family was shut down, suspended, or fired, and the rat had his claws in almost every factory in the town, so good luck getting a job somewhere else. All anyone could do was work around the younger rat's mistakes and bite their tongues when shit inevitably failed.

Garrett stared as the rodent ranted at him in his tiny black suit, his eyes darting to the lever as he briefly considered how good it would feel to impale the little fucker's skull on there and see if that fixed the problem. Probably not, but it would be well worth a shot.

"See it doesn't happen again! I'm not sure what's wrong with you, but I'm getting tired of your failures!" the boss snapped, before scampering off to go find someone else to yell at so he could feel important.

The bull gritted his teeth and gripped the failed prototype with his fingers, muscles twitching as they urged him to hurl it through the air towards someone or smash it on the ground -- something, anything to help with the rage. At this rate, he'd be stuck at this fucking factory forever, working as a machinist forever, with a shit wage and an equally shit life. How was he supposed to get the promotion he deserved when this kept happening, again and again? No fucking fault of his own? He deserved to be a supervisor or a manager for how long he'd been here, and for his experience, but the rat fuck seemed to single Garrett out all of the time, as though he had something against superior goddamn species, and he was sure the boss was personally shooting down his applications for higher positions. At this rate, he'd never get out of this fucking dead-end town, and it WASN'T EVEN HIS FUCKING FAULT. THERE WASN'T A FUCKING THING HE COULD--

"Hey, G", said a sympathetic voice from behind the bull's back. Garrett twisted his head to look over his shoulder and saw his supervisor, a raccoon, standing a cautious distance from the bull. "Why don't you go take five?"

The bull huffed air through his nostrils and released the doomed prototype. "Fine".

After washing his face in the bathroom, Garrett made eye contact with the red eyes staring back in the mirror. "Fucking prick", he grunted. "Sooner or later I'm gonna fucking--"

He caught what he was saying, and sighed heavily, noticing how tense his entire body was and how fast his heart was beating. It had been a long time since his anger issues had caused him a problem, and he really, really didn't want it to happen again after what he'd gone through last time, and how narrow of an escape it had been. His anger was the reason he'd needed to move here, to this little piss stain of a town, after all, where no one could recognise him. The reason he'd needed to start fresh. And look how that had turned out.

He thought working in a simple job like this would be... well, simple. But he was being really fucking tested today. And every other day lately. This whole fucking month, really. The rat didn't just push the big bull's buttons, he fucking smacked them with a fucking baseball bat. It was bad enough having shit that wasn't your fault blamed on you, but to have a little runt whose neck you could snap with one hand being the one to stomp up and down and scream at you like he was better than you made it all the worse. It wasn't fucking right. IT WASN'T FUCKING NATURAL AND IT PISSED HIM OFF SO MUCH. HE DIDN'T FUCKING DESERVE THIS.

He wandered over the hand drier and pressed the button, but there was a hollow rattle and no air came out. He pressed it again, harder. It was just a stupid little fucking simple hand drier. And still, there was nothing but a rattly exhale. It didn't work. It. Didn't. Fucking. Work. Just like everything else in his FUCKING SHITTY FUCKING LIFE.

He wrapped his hands together and smashed them down on top of the piece of fucking junk and it tumbled to the ground and smashed across the tiles with a loud crash, scattering pieces of plastic and metal across the bathroom.

Garrett breathed deeply through his nostrils, feeling a small wave of calm ripple through his angry, powerful muscles. Using them for their purpose -- to break something -- felt good.

Better the hand drier than his boss' face.

* * *

It was already nighttime when Garrett stepped onto the bus after work. Like usual, he took a seat up the back and spread out next to his bag so he could be comfortable for the hour-long trip home -- the bus started near the factory and the end of the line was near his home. Plugging his earphones into his ears, he played music and closed his eyes. The big white bull tried to shake off some of his anger by breathing deeply, his body relaxing into the gentle rumbling and swaying of the bus as it carried him home. At least nothing could piss him off on the ride.

When his music suddenly stopped, at first he thought he must have accidentally nudged the earphone plug out of his phone.

But no, his phone's battery was dead.

"For fuck's sake", the bull groaned hopelessly, gripping his phone tightly before forcing himself to relax his fingers so he didn't break it. He'd only been on the bus ten minutes. Now it was gonna be a long, boring trip, left alone with his thoughts. Awesome. Just, fucking, great.

He had plenty of time to think about what miserable shit he could do tonight when he got home. Maybe he could spend an hour trying to flush the cockroaches out from behind his fridge. Or he could draft some emails to his real estate agent about the dozen things wrong with his place that they still hadn't fixed. Maybe he could swing by the mall and buy a present for the stupid secret santa bullshit he'd been dragged into at work. They said to aim for fifty fucking dollars' worth. Great idea, fuckheads. Let's feed the fucking capitalism that keeps us all working in a shit factory while a rich rat cunt stomps all over us.

Garrett let out a heavy breath and hanged his head. Fuck's sake, he wished he had his music.

Fifty-minutes-that-felt-like-three-hours later, he could sense his final stop coming up judging by the familiar swerves and corners of the bus, even though it was dark outside and he couldn't see shit. As the bus pulled to a halt, Garrett was the only fur left. As he stood, his body felt heavier and slower than usual, and he slowly plodded towards the exit.

Something caught the corner of his eyes as he was walking and he paused. A blond-furred cat kid, barely the age of a teenager, was curled up on one of the seats with his head resting on his backpack, hidden from view. The kid had to have been asleep, as underneath a long fringe his eyes were closed and his slender chest was gently rising and falling.

"Hey. Kid!" Garrett said.

The cat-boy awoke with a start and quickly scrambled into a sitting position, eyes blinking sluggishly and slowly focusing on the huge bull standing in front of him. "Wh...what? Where am I? I thought I..." He looked over his shoulder at the pitch blackness outside. "Oh no..."

"Hey, buddy!" the bus driver shouted. "We gettin' off this bus tonight or what?"

The bull rolled his eyes. "There's a lost kid here. He fell asleep".

The driver wasted no thoughts, replying, "Not my problem! End of the shift. Gotta get the bus back to the depot".

Garrett looked down at the nervously fidgeting boy staring up at him with hopeful eyes.

What did he care about some dumb kid? Fuck him. What did he owe anyone after how hard the world was fucking his ass over? Fuckin nothing. Why should he waste his fucking night helping some stupid little punk get home when it was the kid's own fault? The kid could fall down a drain and die in the dark for all he cared.

That's why he was surprised when he found himself saying, "There's a police station near here".

The cat kid frowned and stuttered, "But... I don't know where... I mean, I don't know how to get--"

"It's near where I live. I'll walk you there, don't worry", the bull said, smiling, beckoning with his hand. "C'mon".

As he escorted the kid off the bus, he pondered how weird it was that he was doing this. He was under no illusions about himself. He knew he was a selfish jerk, and he simply didn't care, because no one else was deserving of his time or attention. If anything, he hated everyone around him. So why, without even really thinking, especially when he was in SUCH AN ANGRY MOOD, would he--

Oh.

Oh...

It was a cold and dark night, with the moon behind the clouds and a brisk wind slicing through the bull's fur. Garrett crossed his arms and hugged his body and the cat pulled his hoodie up around his face and shivered, as the two furs walked off into the night. While the bus pulled away, and its tail lights gave way to blackness, the bull led the young teen towards a lone nearby road under some dim street lights.

"Hey, uh, thanks for doing this", the cat said while the pair plodded along. His voice was a little unsteady, either from nerves or puberty. "You didn't have to. Like, I'm sorry for being a nuisance".

"Nah, don't worry about it", Garrett replied. "It's on my way home anyway, really".

"Oh, well... still, thanks".

The bull snorted. "You're welcome. What's your name?"

"Callum", the cat said. "You?"

"Tony", Garrett said in a warm, friendly voice. "And you're... what, thirteen? Fourteen?"

"Fourteen, yeah".

"Cool, cool", the bull replied. "Well, Callum, we'll get you home soon. The station's only a couple more blocks this way. Then you can wait there while your family comes to get you".

"Thanks, man".

It was quieter out here on the edge of town. Fewer people meant less potential annoyances. It was why Garrett chose to live out here. Well, that, and the rent was cheaper.

Tonight was a particularly quiet night. Callum was wearing running sneakers, so the only sounds of the night were the gentle swishing of trees and the clopping of Garrett's hooves along the pavement. That, and the sound of trimmed bushes rustling as a couple of pet cats sprinted off, startled by the two furs walking by. The pair passed no cars, and no other furs -- just closed business and cosy houses of which a few had their lights on. Lots of the elderly lived in this part of town, hanging onto the houses they'd grown up in, and most had probably already gone to bed.

As they passed a row of silent, dark shops, Garrett said, "We can cut through here", gesturing down a dim alleyway.

The cat trustingly followed his guide as the bull led the way, completely silent, until there was a gentle buzzing.

"Ah, shit. My dad's calling me", Callum said, tugging his phone out of his pants. "He's probably worried why I'm not home. Can I take this for a sec?"

"Of course", the bull replied happily, casually resting against a wall and watching quietly while the cat answered.

"Dad... Hey!" the cat said, aimlessly pacing around on the spot while facing away from the bull behind him. "Yeah, I kn--I know... Dad, I know. I'm sorry. I fell asleep on the bus".

Garrett gently placed his bag on the ground while he listened. He couldn't hear what Callum's father was saying -- just meaningless buzzing from the phone speaker.

"Well, yeah. There's a police station nearby. I'm headed there n--Yeah someone's walking me there... Some dude who was on the bus".

Garrett unbuckled his pants and pulled his belt free.

"Dad... It's fine. We're almost there... It's fine! No, he's cool, really... And it's just ano--GLLK!"

Garrett pulled hard on the free end of his belt to tighten it around Callum's neck, wrenching the teenager backwards against his huge muscled body. The cat's phone dropped to the ground and bounced with a couple of clacks as the cat grasped at his neck, his little fingers desperately trying to wedge between his skin and the leather band suddenly cutting off his air.

"Callum? CALLUM?!" the cat's father shouted through the phone speaker, loud enough for Garrett to hear now.

The huge white bull exhaled a deep breath of cool night air through his heavy nostrils, his muscles tensing with firm determination as he felt the teenager struggle helplessly against his body. "It's nothing personal", he said calmly, hunching forward to whisper into Callum's ear. "I just really, really need this".

"Callum! Talk to me!" the phone vibrated in desperate tones.

Garrett heaved the belt downwards, throwing Callum onto the cold, hard ground via his throat. The cat groaned and gasped for air in a croaky voice as he smacked the pavement -- not much oxygen was actually getting through. He scrambled onto his arms and knees and tried to bolt off down the alleyway, but the bull was still holding the end of the belt, and he was barely a metre away before it went taut at the end of Garrett's arm and he tumbled backwards, choking and writhing against the ground.

Fuck listening to music to try to relax. As Garrett stared down at the entirely helpless boy he was choking to death, he felt a tremendous sense of serenity through his powerful body -- like amidst all the frustrating chaos of his life, something was finally going the way it was meant to go.

He dropped down on top of Callum and rolled the kid onto his stomach, still holding the belt like a leash as he sat on top of the boy's thighs and slipped a hand inside the back of the boy's pants.

Callum whined and twisted around, his body heaving with sobs that couldn't quite escape his mouth, his arms and legs slapping against the ground. Garrett heard the faintest "Heeeeelp" come from the cat's lips, and it was so useless it made him snort with laughter. He ripped the boy's pants down and exposed his bare ass cheeks -- tense and clenched tightly together as he fought to survive.

"Callum! Your mother's calling the police and I'm getting in the c-car! Just hold on!" the boy's father shouted, his voice so loud it was distorted through the speakers.

"Don't bother", Garrett grunted. "It's too late".

"Wh-who... Leave my son alone! LEAVE MY SON ALONE!"

Garrett tightened his belt and grinned as Callum flailed with increased desperation. He was so in control -- the kid's life was in his hands. And it felt so right. It felt natural. Finally, he was giving into his instincts. Unrestrained. Unleashed. This was what he wanted to do. What his body was meant for. Why have all that anger and just choke it down? Why have all this strength but not use it?

He tugged his monstrously big cock out of his pants and flopped it down against the struggling kid underneath him, so long it reached from the bottom of his underage ass up to his chest. Then he shuffled backwards until the end of his cock slid onto the boy's butt, before starting to press forward again. As his cock head forced its way between the cat's round cheeks, the best thing was that Callum was young enough to be small and sweet and innocent, but old enough to know exactly what the bull was about to do. He scratched at the ground with his claws, trying to drag himself away from his attacker, but the bull was too heavy on top of him.

"Just hold on Callum!" the boy's father shouted. "You're gonna be okay!"

"Nah, he's not", Garrett said coldly.

Holding the belt firmly, the bull applied some of his tremendous weight to his cock and started to force his way inside Callum's tight hole, helped by his slit oozing precum. The cat fought back harder than ever as he was stretched too-wide and opened up by the gigantic intruder in his ass, his arms reaching through the air behind his head, trying to snatch the belt and pull it from the bull's hands, but grabbing nothing but air. His hips twisted and rolled left and right, trying to misdirect the bull's cock from its target, but Garrett was too heavy and too strong. He just forced his way deeper and deeper into the young teen, opening him up in ways he'd never known. Callum shuddered wildly as his hole was stretched beyond its limits and a pained croak pushed through his crushed throat.

"Hey, Daddy", the white bull grunted through a grin. "Guess who's taking your boy's virginity".

"No... No no no... Please! Let him go! We'll do anything! PLEASE!"

Garrett threw his hips forward, cramming his rod halfway into the boy, groaning loud enough to be picked up by the phone, "Mmmmmmgh... fuuuucckk that's good! He's so fucking tight!"

"No! Nooo..." the father sobbed helplessly.

"Yeah. I'm gonna really take him to pound-town", the bull added. "And it's a one-way trip". He scooped his other hand under Callum's hips and held them tightly in position as he started savagely slamming his huge bovine dick as far into the kid as it would go. As his cock head ripped its way even further into Callum's insides, his wide pale shaft split the boy's cheeks apart so far it was obscene. It had to be horrifying and excruciating for the poor kid. But fuck, the more he thought about that, the harder it made him fuck. He wanted to hurt the poor innocent little thing. He wanted to fucking kill him. Because he hated the FUCKING WORLD.

He slammed his cock deep into Callum, his throbbing cock head drooling precum into the poor teen's chest cavity.

He'd acted on his anger like this before, and vowed to never do it again. Not because of the bastard he'd killed, but because he'd messed up by killing someone he knew -- someone whom people knew the bull had it out for. Stupid. And two years ago, while police were knocking on his front door, he was watching from behind a hedge on the other side of the street. He could never go back to his house. His kill was too close to home, and he almost paid for it.

But he should never have tried to suppress who he really was. That's why he was miserable now. It wasn't worth living a life where he couldn't do... this. He just needed to be smart about it. That was all.

With a random fuckin kid he'd never met before...

He could let all of his anger out. His shitty job and his shitty house. His uppity prick of a boss. His overwhelmingly miserable fucking life. Rather than trying to push his fiery rage away... he could channel it all into his fist right now.

And release it.

"Say goodbye to your kid, Dad", he grunted.

Then he brought his fist down with all the fury of his pent-up wrath on top of Callum's skull. The boy's head smacked down against the pavement with such force it let out a loud crack that even the phone would have picked up. The reaction through Callum's body was instant and devastating. The teen's body twitched and shuddered violently as his muscles contorted, including his anus, which squeezed the bull's rod as though he was a needy pathetic slut rather than a dying kid.

Garrett let out a sudden proud laugh as an intensely satisfying wave of power flooded his body. "Ughh. Fuccck!" he groaned. And then he punched Callum's skull again while slamming his enormous cock into the teen's body. And again. And again. Again. Again. Again. Harder. Heavier. Faster. Laughing. Panting. Grinning.

Callum's skull crunched and splattered under his strong fist against the pavement, and he felt its hot liquid spray up his arm. Above the sounds of bones crumbling into squelchy meat and flesh, he heard the now-sonless father crying, "Callum, it's okay" though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself at this point. "Help's coming!"

"So am I", Garrett groaned.

He slammed into the spasming asshole balls-deep just as torrents of semen exploded through his ass-ruining rod and splattered Callum's lungs. The sounds of the permanently-traumatised father's sobs through the phone were the perfect background to the bull letting out his deep groans of ball-bursting pleasure, just as snuffing out a sweet innocent teen's life was the perfect antidote to his pent-up rage.

The teen's asshole continued milking the spooge out of him thanks to malfunctioning electrical impulses even after Callum's death, and the bull moaned, "He's fuckin dead, and it feels so fuckin goooooooooodddd!"

While his giant dick throbbed wildly inside the destroyed teen's body, he finally let go of his belt. Callum's neck dropped forward with a wet squelch, but most of his destroyed head was already spread across the ground. With his free hands, one of them splattered with blood, he cupped his pecs and squeezed them lovingly, still panting and groaning, "Fuuuuuuuucccckk!" at the pleasure of savagely murdering a sweet young teenager to death just because he wanted to. It felt so right. It felt perfect. And his cock felt incredible, spraying cum hard until he had nothing left.

Afterwards, he let out a pleased sigh, his cock twitching and dribbling while his body gave small shivers of pleasure post-snuff fuck. He picked up the phone while he was still deep inside the dead teen, and panted, "Hey, Daddy... You got any other boys I can have a go at? I don't think this one's any good for a second round, but he sure was fun to fuck to death".

After a few deep, solemn breaths, Callum's father ended the call. Garrett chuckled to himself and then wiped his prints off the phone using the cat's bloody shirt before tossing it to the ground. He stuffed his belt into his bag after tugging it free of the pulpy mess where Callum's head used to be, and then he wandered down the alleyway, smiling to himself, feeling lighter than he had in months. He left the corpse behind for someone to find, proud of how much jizz he'd left flooding out of the boy's ruined hole.

He headed home feeling strangely confident about his future -- feeling free. He knew now that biting his tongue would get him nowhere. Letting self-important little rodent cunts stomp all over him was not going to help him. Pretending to be someone other than his true self was not going to make him happy. He felt a reassuring sense of resolve.

He was going to murder his boss.

After he raped every member of the rat's family to death in front of him.

And he was going to really fucking enjoy it.