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I received a few complaints and many more instances of being called a "tease" for Chapter 2. I included the tag for Bukkake, but then only mentioned the act in passing. My apologies. This time, the tag is real. Enjoy your "apology"!

Thanks to everyone who read the first three chapters. I hope you continue reading the series.

A special thanks to my proofers, Cold Turkey and Jimmy Wolf.

All characters, locations, and organizations are © me, papabear0069 and the demented mind behind the name. Yes!!! It's all mine!!! (Insert evil cackle here)

The Kennel

Chapter 4

To Be My Brother

Hirami stepped out of the shadowed doorway. Trying to act normal, he casually made his way down the dimly lit corridor. He paused when he reached the corner, stopping to peek cautiously around it. Seeing no one, he turned and continued on. Nearing the end of the hall, the powerfully built Doberman heard the squeaking sound of footsteps from up ahead. Glancing around quickly, he backtracked and slipped through a door into an unused office.

The canine waited impatiently, quietly praying he would remain undiscovered. As the footsteps passed him by, Hirami fingered the envelope tucked inside his jacket. He really needed to get to a postage drop site quickly. Carrying this thing around was going to kill his stress levels. Not to mention just flat get him killed, if it was what he thought it was. The operative who had handed it off to him hadn't told him what was on the reader, but from rumors Hirami had heard, he could guess.

After a few moments of silence, Hirami figured it was clear and silently opened the door a crack to check. Seeing no one, he quickly stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind himself. He made his was stealthily down the remaining length of hallway. With only twenty feet to go, his pulse raced. Once he managed to get the package into the drop slot, he would be in the clear and out of the picture. Within seconds of deposit, the envelope would be on its way to the central routing center. He would have done his part, and any evidence that he was involved would be gone.

Fifteen feet. The canine's heart was pounding in his chest.

Ten feet. He felt like his ribcage was going to explode.

Five feet. His palms were soaked in sweat as he reached into his leather jacket, his eyes focused on the grayish-black wall unit.

Contact. Breathing an audible sigh, Hirami popped the slot open, shoved the envelope inside, and snapped the lid closed. As he heard the whirr that meant the package was on its way, he let out the breath he had been holding.

His blood felt like it turned to ice water, however, as he heard the click of a boot heel on the tiles behind him. Turning slowly, a feeling of dread washed over him as he recognized the Furre standing behind him.

Boriku looked down at the pair in front of him. He had to admit, it looked pretty hot. Standing there nude, he began stroking his cock, coaxing it out if its sheath. The Doberman was one of perhaps twenty-five Furres standing in a loose circle. Perhaps half of the guys in the circle were nude, but even the ones that were clothed had still pulled their pieces out of their pants and were stroking them.

They were all watching the two Furres rolling in the grass in the center of the group. It was Saturday night and time for the Getaway. About two thirds of the residents of the Kennels were out here in the dark, out on the vast lawn near the Gardens. Two of the smallest residents, a Skunk and a Raccoon, were performing a hot little sixty-nine right there for everybody to watch.

One of the pair rolling around in the middle of all that attention was Sorrie. The lithe skunk was one of the most effeminate Strays at the Kennels. He was in his second year at Archon University and was finally getting his second Getaway fulfilled. Around six months prior, he had let himself be hogtied while most of the residents came all over him. Now, finally, he got to move on to act two.

Two months previously, what everyone had thought was the first girl to visit the Kennels had shown up. The 'girl' turned out to be a sexy little Raccoon named Fanji. He was 18 years old, not even four and a half feet tall, and almost always cross-dressed. He had a tendency toward skirts and summer dresses, which showed off his slender, boyish legs. He caused quite a stir at Whispering Meadows, until the Strays became accustomed to him. He flat out turned heads on campus. It was rumored that the 'coon had some kind of link to Horitzu, but nobody really cared enough to ask either of them. The moment Fanji had learned about the Getaway, he had put in a request for a Bukkake fantasy scene. He was visibly disappointed when he heard he had missed Sorrie's Getaway by only a few months. Sorrie didn't take long to talk to the cute little 'coon.

Sorrie was wearing one of his favorite items of clothing, a white girl's pleated uniform skirt, with no underwear, along with a white skin tight tank top and knee length girl's socks. Fanji was dressed in a navy blue skirt, plus stockings and a matching halter top. Both boys were locked in a furious sixty-nine. They pawed at the other's hips, their hands gripping, tugging and roaming as they rolled across the grass. Each tried to out-do the other in getting as much of the other's cock down their throat as possible. Fanji was having an easier time of it, as the Skunk only sported a little over five inches when fully hard. Sorrie, on the other hand, was having a more difficult time. The Raccoon, not even ninety pounds, boasted a cock nearly eight inches in length and almost two inches across. Even for someone as proficient as Sorrie, he had occasional problems when the monolith would unexpectedly stab him in the tonsils.

At first, Boriku had been intimidated to come out here and join in the circle. Two things had overcome his total lack of assertiveness. First, in talking to Horitzu during one of their many, many pep talks for the younger canine, the Great Dane pointed out that he would only be one out of a crowd of several dozen. There would be no pressure on him to do anything. They had been doing a lot of talk on motivation lately, and Horitzu wanted him out there, even if it was just to cheer everyone on from the crowd. The real factor had been something that Boriku had only recently admitted to himself. He had a crush on the little Skunk, and the thought of yiffing with Sorrie, even as part of an anonymous crowd, really excited the Doberman.

As the two twisted and undulated in the center of the crowd, slurping at each other's crotches, the crowd cheered them on. Over the jests and shouts of encouragement, Horitzu could be heard shouting out instructions to the mob of horny Furres.

"Cum one, cum all! Tonight is your chance! Vote for your favorite femboi right here!" he said, laughing. "Mark your vote for the sexiest one here, and you just might get to mark him again in private later on!"

A chorus of cheers went up at that, punctuated by several whistles and cat-calls. The sexual tension in the air doubled as Rollith, a muscular Grizzly bear, stepped forward. He nudged Sorrie's shoulder with his toe, and the skunk let up on the Raccoon long enough to see who wanted his attention. He barely had time to recognize the bulky shape of the ursine form before the first spurt shot out and pegged him right across the muzzle. It overshot a bit, with a majority of the liquid landing on the raccoon's shaft, but Rollith easily made up for it with his subsequent shots. He pulsed again, and this time the Skunk was ready for it. At least half of the spunk landed across his outstretched tongue. The bruin let off a third, fourth, even a fifth shot, each taking the prone Skunk right around the lower face, before stepping back to rejoin the circle.

Sorrie began using his dexterous tongue and lips to clean as much as he could from the cock in front of his face. The cheers died down a bit as the participants began concentrating on the two Furres at their feet and their own throbbing erections.

From the back of the crowd, they heard Nikto the Rabbit cry out, "Hey! I ain't no femboi!"

Before anyone else could say anything, they all heard his boyfriend, Sudikia, respond with, "Yeah, but you're my favorite."

The circle erupted with laughter. They laughed even harder when Fanji poked his head up to yell, "Hey! Quit wasting it! We're over here!" He chuckled and then dove right back into Sorrie's crotch. The crowd cheered him on.

After another minute, Orimo, a young Paint Horse stepped forward. He stroked himself a few more times as he bent his knees a bit and pointed his twelve inch hose nearly straight down, right over Fanji's head. A long string of pre trailed from the head of his cock, now only a foot or so from the Raccoon's head. He milked his shaft, letting a large glob of the string fall in Fanji's ear. He jerked and turned, just in time to see the horse pump his organ twice more. It was like a shot from a water cannon. Several massive pulses of the watery semen splashed across his face, drenching his fur. The equine varied his shots, so that by the time he was finished and stepped back, the 'coon was soaked from his halter top up. Sorrie wasn't complaining, though. His own hips, crotch, and skirt were equally soaked.

Watching the action the Skunk was getting, Boriku shaft had lengthened and slipped its sheath. He noted how talented Sorrie appeared to be as he worked the Raccoon's cock. He imagined that sweet mouth on his own organ, and began stroking it with vigor. Looking at his lithe, feminine form, he began tugging on his knot, causing it to swell. Lost in his fantasies of pleasure, he almost forgot to move forward before he came. In a last-second rush, he leaped forward, nearly going to his knees, before letting out a grunting bark and letting fly with a copious load which landed mostly on Sorrie's shoulder and neck. He adjusted his aim as he tugged his knot, finishing off his load more or less on the Skunk's muzzle.

Very soon, other Furres were stepping up in succession to deposit their "votes" in the face of one, or sometimes both, of the squirming, begging boys. During a lull in the shower, Sorrie propped himself up to look over the happy Raccoon. Fanji's fur was matted and spiked all the way down to his thighs. The skirt and top were soaked through, sticking to his fur. Occasional patches of clean, dry fur showed through, but they were rare. One ear was plastered back against his scalp, and both his eyes were closed and coated in cum. As he bobbed back and forth on Sorrie's cock, a small glob of sperm, hanging from one nostril, wobbled back and forth in time to his movements. His face had been soaked by so much of the thick, opaque cream that it was actually difficult to make out the outline of his 'coon mask. The Skunk looked up in time to take another shot in his own face, feeling a line of the semen run across his closed eyes and into his ear. Knowing he looked just as messy as the 'coon, he grinned, licked his lips, and went back to sucking Fanji's drenched shaft.

As the participants finished up, many having worked up second or even third loads, the crowd began to drift away. A slim few stayed behind to watch the finale. Sorrie approached his orgasm first, and, as agreed, tapped the Raccoon on the side. Fanji nodded around his cock, and slowed down as Sorrie sped up, putting all his concentration into the blowjob he was giving. He knew when Fanji was getting close, because he gave a series of fast, furious thrusts with his muzzle. Then both Furres pulled back from the shaft they were sucking and grabbed their own cock. They began pawing furiously, hoping the other had not moved far, as neither wanted to risk opening their eyes right then. Finally, they both began panting and grunting as they shot their loads into the other's face from inches away. They then fell to the side, each catching his breath and basking in the sticky, wet puddles they were laying in.

Hirami turned around slowly, adrenaline coursing through his veins, already knowing what to expect. A Doberman standing 7'4 and boasting over 300 pounds of solid muscle, Kaska stepped casually out of the doorway across from the mail drop. He was dressed similarly to Hirami. Both Dobermans were dressed in thick, steel-toed boots, pants, and form-fitting jacket, all made of the same black leather-like material. This was the uniform of the State Intendent Squad. Commonly referred to as the Pincers, due to the fact that they only accepted Dobermans, they were the Consular's personal enforcers. There were only two real differences in their style of dress. First, Kaska wore a red shirt under his jacket, rather than the purple that Hirami, and the other three Pincers walking up behind their leader, wore. Kaska was one of only four who wore the red shirt, which denoted officer status.

The second item of note was the fur pattern around his face. Furres had developed a method of permanently changing the pigment of the hair follicles in their fur, creating what could be considered similar to the human art of tattooing. Kaska had extended the edges of the black streak running down his snout, sharpening the edges and creating a flame pattern running up the bridge of his muzzle and back into his shirt collar.

"Well, now," Kaska said calmly. "I knew all I had to do was watch the nearest drop, but I never expected it to be you."

He walked over to Hirami, the massive Pincer leader reaching forward to run his fingers almost lovingly along the smaller canine's lips. As Hirami jerked back to pull away, Kaska grabbed his snout in his massive grip, forcing them to lock eyes.

"You disappoint me," he said. His muzzle clamped shut and unable to answer, Hirami merely glared defiantly at his officer. The package was on its way. Now all he had to do was ensure they didn't force him to tell them where he had mailed it.

"Still," the leader continued, "at least we have the leak fixed." He smiled evilly at the Hirami. "I do hope they let me be the one to force you to talk."

Hirami tried to break and run, but it was a futile effort. He was quickly cuffed, and by the time he was carried into the brig, he had been beaten so badly that one eye was swollen shut and his ears had developed a constant ringing.

Wednesday turned out to be a very mixed day for Boriku. He was down in the south wing, checking his mail, when who should walk in but Sorrie. The Doberman blushed a bit, but surprisingly managed to blurt out an awkward hello. The Skunk, lost in his own world, jumped a bit at the bark-like greeting.

"Oh! Hi there, sweety," he responded. "Sorry, I didn't see you there." He giggled softly.

When the canine didn't reply, but kept throwing darting glances, he continued. "So, uh, I hear you hang out with Daddy a lot. That must be fun."

He furtively looked the Skunk over. He was dressed today in a tight hot pink midriff t-shirt and hip hugging pale blue shorts. Boriku couldn't tell for sure, but he thought he might be wearing girl's socks beneath his canvas deck shoes. He was standing with his weight resting on his right leg, with his left knee bent out and his right hand resting high up on his side. A gorgeous smile played across his face and his bushy, striped tail swaying lazily behind his legs merely accentuated how thin and boyish his thighs were.

"Well," he managed to get out, "It's really just extra classes, is all."

"Still, a buff doggy like Daddy has got to be, like, an uber blast to hang out with. You know?"

Boriku looked up, then looked quickly away before asking, "Have you never talked to him, then?"

"I mean, well, sure. I've talked to him. I even yiffed a bit with him when I first got here. But I've never gotten to know him. You know?"

"I guess," answered Boriku. Feeling daring, and remembering what Horitzu and Kirori were always telling him about practicing, he blurted out, "So, uh, you liked that Getaway last week, huh?"

Amazed at his own daring, he immediately regretted it. Going a deep red that actually started showing through some of his fur, he actually took a step back away from the smaller Furre. Sorrie, however, began grinning as a far-away look crossed his eyes for a moment. He quickly recovered, looking at the canine with a new interest.

Grinning, he said, "You were there for that, were you?"

Hesitantly, Boriku nodded, not meeting the Skunk's eyes.

"Man! That was a blast. So, who did you 'vote' for? Don't worry. I won't be too mad if you 'voted' for Fanji. He's a cutie, isn't he?"

Before he could stop himself, Boriku had already muttered a quiet, "Not as cute as you."

"Aww. You're a sweety!" He began gathering up his own mail, then sized up the Doberman. "So," he asked. "Why haven't you hit me up yet?"

Boriku was floored. He immediately began to have one of his quiet panic attacks and rushed from the room. He ran to his room, slammed the door shut, and began cursing himself. 'How did that happen?' he screamed into his own mind. 'Sorrie, adorable Sorrie, is sitting there giving his half of a conversation straight out of one of my hottest fantasies! And what do I do? I panic!' Chastising himself, he added, 'How typical.'

Boriku pulled the door open intent to go find Horitzu and ask his advice about it. He stared in shock when he realized he had opened the door right in Sorrie's startled face. The Skunk's hand was raised, ready to knock. Now he stood there, one hand cocked up on his hip, and grinned at the Doberman.

"Sorry about that," Sorrie chimed out quickly. "I didn't mean to scare you off like that." He looked vaguely concerned. "You okay, sweety? I didn't mean to freak you out or anything. You know?"

When Boriku still didn't respond, Sorrie replied, "Can I come in? I kind of want to talk to you." He took the silence for assent and slipped through the half opened door. "Thanks, sweety."

He walked over and sat down on the bed, tossing his backpack on the bed beside him. He then crossed his legs at the knees and, leaning back, smiled playfully at the canine.

"I know it's a stereotype, but why aren't you with the Pincers? I thought they snatched up all the pureblood Dobermans they could."

He began to reach into his bag for something.

"Just consider me nosy if you want to, but I can add two and two, you know."

Sorrie tapped his chin with his fingers, counting off as he spoke.

"One, there's nobody but Dobermans in the Pincers. Two, you're a Doberman. Three, you are a real quiet type who sticks real close to Daddy." He pulled something out of his bag with a flourish. "And four," he added, waving the package in the air between them, "you receive priority packages straight from the Consular's palace."

Stunned, Boriku's eyes shot up, staring at the envelope the Skunk was waving casually around.

"What? Let me see that."

Half panicked, he quickly snapped the door shut and crossed the room to snatch the package out of Sorrie's hand, but the Skunk was too quick.

"Uh, uh," he replied, waving a finger in Boriku's face while stuffing the envelope under his tight rump. "Not until you tell me what's going on, sweety."

Boriku was lost. He couldn't read the smirk on Sorrie's face to see if he was being playful or mean. He took a step back, just in case. A dozen thoughts flashed through his mind. He knew a dozen people in government, any of which could easily have mailed a package out of the Consular's palace. The problem was, none of them would. As he contemplated the problem, his face became darker with worry.

"What is it?" The Skunk's face relaxed into a mild frown. "I'm just playing. Here." He got up off the package and held it out to the canine. "Here you go, sweety."

Cautiously, expecting a trick, Boriku leaned forward and took the package. As he examined the outer envelope, he absentmindedly asked, "Why do you call me that?"

"Call you what, sweety?"

Hardy paying attention, his mind on the puzzle in his hand, he answered, "That. Sweety. Why do you call me that?"

Sorrie laughed. "Oh. I call everyone that. I don't know why." He paused for a moment before adding, "I guess I've always done that."

"Oh"

Boriku looked back down at the package he held. The outer envelope had his address, here at Whispering Meadows, written in the middle of the package. It looked to have been scrawled hastily, but by someone who normally had a neat hand. The only return address was the official seal of the Consular's palace, imprinted in the stiff paper. As for the priority shipping, Boriku knew that it had nothing to do with him, or this package. Everything coming out of any government office was automatically given "priority" status. It was one of the side effects of living in a military dictatorship.

He carefully opened the end, pulling out the inner package. It was another sealed package, with a single sheet of paper wrapped around it. He saw his name emblazoned in bold ink across the top of the letter, but inspected the smaller package first, anyway. It was wrapped in a heavy brown paper. It had something small and hard inside, but felt like it was wrapped in a thick plastic, or even bubble wrap, beneath the outer wrapping. It looked like it could be the right size for a data disk. That thought stopped him cold, fear and indecision running through the canine. Under no circumstances should he be holding a data disk from the Consular's palace. He quickly set the package aside, picking the letter back up. Hopefully, it would explain.

"Hey Bobo," read the opening greeting. Boriku knew right off who the package was from. Only his littermate, Hirami, had ever called him 'Bobo'. He read on.

"I know you are panicking right now, so cut it out. Sorry to scare you, but I didn't have access to anything other than official stationary. Don't worry. There's nothing here illegal or anything."

Boriku sighed with relief, falling hard to the bed beside the Skunk and reclining back on it. He pretty much forgot about Sorrie being there as he continued the letter.

"I just need you to do me a quick favor. I met a Shifter a while back, a Panther named Quansai. We have some mutual friends, and have chatted a few times. Yes, the package is a data disk, but it is harmless stuff. The only problem has been that different areas of government are not supposed to intermingle.

"To put it simply, he and I aren't really supposed to be talking. But hey, he's a nice guy. Besides, what's life without a little risk, huh? Anyway, I just wanted to see if you could pass this on to him. It should be easy, as his cousin lives there at your dorm. A guy named Sudikia. Just give it to him, and ask him to forward it to Quansai. Probably better not to mention to your friend who it's from, just to keep things simple though.

"So, anyway. How are things with you? It's too bad you couldn't get into the Pincers. We could sure use you here. My officer is way too strict. Anyway, keep in touch, and take care of yourself." It was signed, "Your bro, Hirami."

Boriku jumped slightly as Sorrie reached over and touched his side.

"Everything okay, sweety?"

"Yeah. Everything's fine," he responded, smiling slightly over at the other boy.

"So..." prompted Sorrie.

"What?"

Sorrie shoved playfully against the canine's shoulder. "Fill me in. What was that all about?"

"Oh. That." He shook his head slowly, his confusion building again. "I don't know if I should."

"What? I won't tell anyone. I can keep a secret." He leaned in against the Doberman and, grinning, stage whispered, "I wouldn't want to get you in trouble."

Boriku grinned back, his heart hammering at the feel of the slinky Skunk pressed up against his side. "It's not me," he said. "It's my brother. He's using official mail to send personal stuff, and to people he's not even supposed to be talking to, at that." He chuckled, then added, "Stupid guy. He always did like to cause trouble."

Seeing that Sorrie still didn't follow, he began elaborating.

"See, my brother is a Pincer, and..."

"Ha! I knew it!" interjected Sorrie. "How come you're not one, too? You're definitely big and strong enough." As he said that last line, he ran a finger up along the canine's muscular bicep. Boriku blushed slightly, but not enough for the Skunk to notice.

"I'm not dominant enough," Boriku replied. "Whatever it is that makes Dobermans so aggressive, I lack. I guess they missed it when they screened my genetics." He looked over at the striped boy, too lost in thought to register how close the two were.

"Actually, Hirami is my littermate. The doctors used to argue that either he got most of my dominance genes, or he at least screened my tests. If you knew Hami, you would probably go with the first one." He chuckled, and then added, "I swear, sometimes I think he's dominant enough to back down an Alpha Judge."

I don't care if you're not dominant," said Sorrie. "I'm dominant enough for the both of us."

Lost in his own train of thought, Boriku completely missed the pass.

"It's not a matter of dominance," he continued. "I can be dominant when I need to be. And I'm not really shy, either." He paused, trying to put it into words. "It's that I get... confused. I can see so many options, and none of them feel right."

He looked away, partly embarrassed at how personal the conversation was becoming, but mostly to keep from getting distracted from his train of thought. Sorrie began absently stroking the Doberman's neck and head.

"I know this is probably a scary way to put it, but it is the best I have heard that seems to fit." He paused, not even noticing the skritching he was receiving, then continued. "It's like I am the mirror of a sociopath. Where a sociopath is domineering by nature, I am passive. Where a sociopath can choose to be calm, I can sometimes choose to be aggressive. But the one thing we seem to share is that, like a true sociopath, I lack whatever it is that tells me what is 'normal'. It is hard for me to distinguish what is socially acceptable.

"I used to get into so much trouble as a pup. Nobody could figure out how to predict what I would do. I used to do the oddest stuff. Say the most inappropriate things. Nobody could take me anywhere or trust me with anything."

"By the time I was ten," Boriku finished, "I had learned not to act. I guess by the time I was tested by the Pincers, they took that for a lack of dominance."

Sorrie pulled the Doberman's face over until he could see the canine's eyes. He did his best not to be crushed by the look of pain in those eyes. He smiled and leaned into Boriku, brushing the dog's lips with his own.

"Don't make any decisions, then," he said before kissing the Doberman. After a second, he pulled back enough to add, "I'll make them for you." He rolled over to lie astride the Doberman, embracing him and rubbing the crotch of his shorts along the denim of the canine's tight pants.

A week. Hirami had made it a week without breaking. It was times like this that convinced him he had some of his littermate's strength. He knew full well how psychotic his brother's mind was. He had been there every step of the way with Boriku. Every neurologist, every geneticist, every psychologist, he had been there, holding his hand.

To see him now, Hirami marveled at the discipline and strength it had taken for his brother to clamp down on those impulses. He may see a lot of wrong choices for each situation, but he also saw the right ones. For him to make the choice not to act, when his instinct told him to pick one at random and act; that took profound strength. Hirami was so proud of his littermate.

It was that pride that sealed his lips when they did things that made him scream. It was that strength that kept him from shouting his brother's name when they shattered his legs, only to splice them together so they could do it again. It was the knowledge that Boriku would never talk that gave him the strength to forget Quansai's involvement.

Apparently, those were high-level security encryptions that he had been given. Millions wasted and years lost if they were not securely recovered. At least Hirami could be sure that the right people had them now. Boriku might have trouble making his own decisions, but he had always listened to his littermate. He had no doubts that Boriku had followed his instructions.

There was only one thing left to do. He had to ensure that it was impossible for him to break. The Alpha Judges seemed convinced that he was only involved by mistake, but he was running out of both time and endurance. He looked down at the key card which had just been slipped under his door moments before.

Escape. It was time to either escape, or die trying. He was so tired. Tired of the torture. Tired of being strong. Boriku was the strong one, no matter what other people saw. Now it was time for one last batch of his littermate's strength. Tonight, he could be the strong one. Tonight, he got to be Boriku.

"Damn, sweety, you look scrumptious," Sorrie said. "I want me some of that!"

Boriku had just put on the finishing touch, completing the outfit. It might not be official uniform, but it was close enough. Black leather boots, black jeans, and a black leather biker jacket over a purple t-shirt. The jacket wasn't the same cut as the Pincer uniform. You could only get that cut by being one. It didn't matter. Even if it was for just one night, Boriku got to be the strong one. The one who knew what to do, and could make clear decisions. Tonight was Saturday, the Getaway. And for tonight, he got to be a Pincer. For one night only, he got to be Hirami.

Sorrie was dressed in his own version of biker chic for the evening's festivities. Tight leather pants that looked painted onto his narrow hips, ending in mid-calf black suede boots, pom-pom tassels dangling from the zippers. A wide studded leather belt was cinched around his waist at least three inches below the bottom of his black midriff, sporting the phrase "I'm the cute one" in neon pink swirls. Over the shirt was a girl's midriff denim jacket, emblazoned with sequins around the edges.

He stepped up to Boriku, pressing his body against that of the Doberman. Sorrie buried his muzzle into his chest and inhaled the heady mix of new leather and canine musk. He ground his crotch against the other's denim clad thigh as he leaned back and looked up seductively at his new lover.

"It almost makes me wish it was me out there tonight," he said, grinning. "Orimo has no idea what's about to get a hold of his ass, does he, sweety."

He sniffed at the jacket once more, running his arms inside it to wrap them around the Doberman's waist.

"Promise me that whatever you do, you won't take off the jacket. I want to smell you in it after you have been running around outside, okay? I'm gonna have to do some leather worship of my own tonight. You know?"

His right arm still wrapped around his waist, Sorrie led Boriku out of the building and out onto the grounds. Just outside, they met up with Horitzu, along with Junti, a Grey Wolf, and Suntza, a Collie. The other three canines were dressed similarly to Boriku. Horitzu had added a red scarf at his neck, ready to pull up and cover his muzzle.

As the pair approached, Sorrie called out, "Yummy, Daddy! I love the look for you."

"You look very well put together yourself," the housemaster called back.

To Boriku he said, "I'm glad you made it. You ready for this?"

The Doberman looked down at the Skunk hanging on his side, then back at Horitzu. He nodded soberly.

"Good," said Horitzu. He motioned Boriku to join them, and turned to address all three of the canines.

"Okay then," he began. "Orimo requested this particular Getaway, so he is our target for tonight. Right now, he is over in the gazebo with Fanji. Now, he claims he wants this to feel real. I talked to him this morning, and he assured me this is what he wants."

The Great Dane cleared his throat before continuing.

"That's right. Real. He wants to have to be patched up when it's all said and done. All I can suggest is, keep it away from his head and groin. Try not to be so rough that you kick up real blood, you follow?" He looked around the group, studying their faces and meeting each set of eyes. "I'll be doing more watching than anything else. I'll step in if things get too crazy or if there is an accident."

He let a twinkle gleam in his eye as he pulled up the scarf. "Get ready, boys. Time for the Getaway." He turned away from the assembled group, looking out into the gathering darkness. There was a cold edge to his voice as he added, "This is as real as it gets."

Kaska stepped back away from his commanding officer before turning and walking across the compound toward his squad. The three Dobermans perked up as he approached. The audible alarms cut off just as he reached them, as if clearing the air for what he had to say.

"Okay then," he began. "The Consular himself requested this little party. That bastard, Hirami, fled his cell just a few minutes ago. He is our target for tonight. I talked to the commander just now, and he assured me this is what he wants."

The flame-sporting Doberman grinned wickedly before continuing.

"That's right. Dead. He wants nothing left to be patched up when it's all said and done. He wants a beaten, demolished body to put on display in the morning. Lethal force and recreational use have been authorized, you follow?" He looked around the group, studying their faces and meeting each set of eyes. "I'll be doing more watching that anything else, ready to step in. I want to make sure this traitorous bastard suffers before he dies."

He let a twinkle gleam in his eye as he pulled up the scarf. "Get ready, boys. Time for the hunt." He turned away from the assembled group, looking out into the gathering darkness. There was a cold edge to his voice as he added, "This is as real as it gets."

Knowing right where he was, it didn't take long for the group to approach the Orimo's position. As soon as he saw the approaching canines he bolted, fear driving his flight. They had him cornered, however, and ran him to ground quickly.

Sorrie, trailing behind the canine pack, went immediately to Fanji's side as soon as he was left behind.

"Are you okay, sweety?" he asked, leaning down to help the Raccoon to his feet.

The 'coon was still a bit shaken, but he nodded. "I know it's supposed to be all play, but damn."

"You do know what's supposed to happen, right?"

"Yeah," sighed Fanji. "I've got a first aid kit under the bench over there, along with some splints and a stretcher. We've got full meds and a splicer inside, just in case." He shook a bit as he said this, the words finally sinking in. He leaned into the Skunk, wrapping him in a desperate hug.

"I don't get it," he said. "Why does he want to get beaten and raped?" He looked desperately at Sorrie and repeated, "Why?"

Sorrie laughed at this. Fanji was hurt and confused for a moment, until Sorrie spoke.

"Sweety, look at what we are both wearing!"

Fanji took a second to realize what the Skunk meant. The Raccoon was wearing a classic schoolgirl outfit, right down to the dress shoes and white lace panties.

"They have no clue why we get a kick out of dressing this way," said Sorrie. "If they can't understand us, why should we get to comprehend them?"

"But still. Pain? How is that good?"

"Ask Kami," replied Sorrie, grinning.

Fanji choked back a few tears as he laughed. The feline's exploits with that band stalker were already the stuff of legends around campus after only a few short months.

Off in the darkness, they heard the meaty sounds of flesh being punished. "Should we go watch, at least? Cheer our men on? Or would that be too gruesome?"

The raccoon shook his head furiously. "Oh, no. I couldn't. It's bad enough having to listen to it."

As if on cue, they heard a sharp cry of pain, followed by a howl of triumph and a single cheer. Both boys winced, holding each other tighter.

They had enough spotters and surveillance equipment to quickly find the rogue Doberman, and it didn't take long for the group to approach Hirami's position. As soon as he saw the approaching canines he bolted, fear driving his flight. They had him cornered, however, and ran him to ground quickly.

Kaska made sure his squad held the rogue good while he stood over his lost soldier. He shook his head slowly, looking him in the eyes. Hirami stared defiantly back, hoping he could infuriate them enough that they would kill him quickly.

The officer, as if reading his thoughts, chuckled and shook his head. "No, boy. We've got all night." He then addressed his men, waving them on. "Get to it, boys."

Orimo had already been worked over quite a bit by the time Boriku stepped forward, offering his first taste of violence to the prone Paint. A solid openhanded slap snapped Orimo's head around. Blood flew in an arc, older wounds opening wider. Two of the other canines lifted the equine to a sitting position so that their partner would not have to bend down so far. He pulled his victim's head upward with a sharp tug, before slapping him again.

Hirami had already been worked over quite a bit by the time Kaska stepped forward, offering his first taste of violence to the prone Doberman. A vicious closed-fisted punch snapped Hirami's head around. Blood flew in an arc, older wounds opening wider. Two of the other Pincers lifted the canine to a sitting position so that their leader would not have to bend down so far. He pulled his victim's head upward with a sharp tug, before slugging him again.

The pain grew addicting as the punisher and the victim bonded. Boriku drew back his foot, letting loose with a kick which connected solidly. Hirami felt the breath forced out of his lungs as the boot dug hard into his side, just beneath his ribs. Boriku ground his boot into his victim's chest, twisting the shirt's material against the fur. Hirami winced and cried out as he felt a rib crack under the boot crushing his ribcage. Boriku leaned down, putting much of his weight into a heavy slap. Hirami's head snapped to the side from the blow, blood flying in a heavy arc.

Kaska sat back and watched the beating, careful to observe the condition of the victim. He wanted to make sure the bastard stayed alive as long as possible. If he passed out, he couldn't suffer. He stepped in occasionally to regulate his boys. He wanted to make sure Hirami stayed nice and awake.

While he watched, he contemplated what would make a good soldier like Hirami turn traitor like this. He was a good student. He followed orders perfectly, and seemed to really love the power and responsibility his position held. He had all the benefits of a powerful position in the Ministry. There was no reason for him to rebel and betray the Consular. It made no sense.

Horitzu sat back and watched the beating, careful to observe the condition of the victim. He wanted to make sure his Stray stayed healthy throughout the ordeal. If he passed out, it could mean danger. He stepped in occasionally to regulate his boys. He wanted to make sure Orimo stayed nice and safe.

While he watched, he contemplated why someone would choose to endure something like this. His conclusion was the fear. His fantasy was for the rape, the forced sex. But he didn't fear the sex. Therefore he didn't fear the scene, and it didn't carry the spice, the thrill, that he craved and fantasized about. He did fear the pain. The threat of pain, and the certain knowledge that the rape would bring pain, was what finally made the scene "real" for him. It made perfect sense.

It was now time to move things along. Kaska stepped forward, motioning for the others to give him space. The leader could tell that the others were getting caught up in the violence. That was fine, but pain alone wouldn't humiliate the former Pincer. He used the toe of his boot to lift the battered Doberman's chin.

Looking down, he said, "I'll just bet you are wishing you could change your mind. Or that we would." He chuckled, squatting down next to his head.

In mock concern, he asked, "Is the pain horrible?" A look of humor crossed his visage as he paused to await a response. When none came, he continued, "We can end it, you know. Just tell me what I need to know."

The canine shook his head painfully, both to deny his tormentor the pleasure and to clear his fuzzy brain. He ached everywhere, but wasn't about to give up now. Even if worse was to come, he wouldn't betray Boriku.

"That's too bad, kid," Kaska teased, "Recreational use has been authorized, and you know how we like to play."

The Kaska unbuckled Hirami's belt and began peeling his pants down his thighs. His squad behind him set up a cheer of barks and howls.

It was now time to move things along. Horitzu stepped forward, motioning for the others to give him space. The leader could tell that the others, especially Boriku, were becoming uncomfortable with the level of violence. He continued with the charade of the attacker, in order to maintain the illusion. He used the toe of his boot to lift the battered Paint's chin.

Looking down, he said, "I'll just bet you are wishing you could change your mind. Or that we would." He chuckled, squatting down next to his head.

In a soft voice, he asked, "Is the pain horrible?" A look of concern crossed his visage as he paused to await a response. When none came, he continued, "We can end it, you know. Just tell me when you're done."

The equine shook his head painfully, both to downplay how bad he felt and to clear his fuzzy brain. He ached everywhere, but wasn't about to give up now. The thrill of being totally used was worth it.

"That's too bad, kid," Horitzu teased, "Time for the doggies to play, and you know we've got knots."

The Great Dane unbuckled Orimo's belt and began peeling his pants down his thighs. His Strays behind him set up a cheer of barks and howls. Once he was out of his pants, he pulled out a pocketknife and went to work on the Paint. He began tugging at the denim jeans, strategically using the knife when necessary. Within moments, his bare ass lay open to the randy group of canines.

Horitzu took a step back and motioned the eager Suntza forward. The blonde Collie had already pulled his length out of his fly and was tugging on it. Pushing his fluffy hair back out of his eyes, he knelt behind the horse and pulled him up onto his knees. Suntza paused for a moment, working out what to use for lube. Orimo had prepared for the night's festivities, however. He had packed himself with lube earlier, and as soon as he felt the first canine shaft poking against his tailhole, he relaxed his sphincter and expelled a short stream of the slimy warmth across the Collie's cock head.

Suntza gave a snarling chuckle and pressed forward. He had really been getting into the power trip the beating had given him, but downplaying his excitement. Keeping things going, he pressed hard against the unprepared tailhole. He had already forced in at least four inches before he pulled back. He continued rocking that first half of his cock in and out, working the lube across his shaft with his right hand. His other hand kept a firm grip on the Paint's hip. After a moment of listening to the horse pant and cry out, he unexpectedly shoved himself in to the hilt.

The Grey Wolf stepped in front of Orimo's head, planting a boot right against his muzzle.

"There you go," he sneered. "You can work on cleaning that. It'll take your mind off of what my buddy's doing to your ass."

Orimo's sore nose was being bumped against Junti's foot in time with the hard thrusting that Suntza was giving him. He extended his tongue and began tentatively licking the hard leather boot. He reached forward and grabbed the heel, hoping to steady his head and save his aching nose. Junti wouldn't let him, though, kicking his hand away with his other foot.

"You're cleaning it. You don't need to add fingerprints." He chuckled. "Come on. I wanna see a spit polish!"

As instructed, the equine put more effort into licking the glossy leather of the steel toed boot, while the Collie ground painfully into his tailhole. He was used to being yiffed, but he was also used to foreplay. The collie's knot had also begun to swell, and it was pounding against his entrance, the canine stopping just short of forcing it in.

While the two canines worked the Paint over good, Horitzu took hold of Boriku's arm and stepped away with him for a moment so they could talk.

"How are you holding up? Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

Not entirely convinced, Horitzu tried again. "What is it?"

"I don't get it," the younger canine said. "What's the point?"

"Of the scene?"

"No. Of the violence. I don't get why someone would like violence."

"Most people don't." As he saw that Boriku was going to interrupt, he guessed the question and continued. "The few that do end up doing one of three things. They either keep it secret, working in the shadows, they get a career in violence as entertainment, such as pro sports or pro fighters, or they work for the government."

When he saw Boriku was confused by that last one, he elaborated.

"Call them soldiers, assassins, or spies; nearly every government needs someone who deals in violence in order to keep their enemies in line. The main problem with our government is that they consider their own people to be enemies."

"Don't worry too much," he said. Horitzu placed a hand on Boriku's shoulder and walked him back to the other three.

"This isn't exactly my thing, either." He looked down at the horse, now licking up the Collie's laces as Junti rode his backside, using his tail as a rein.

"Still," he reflected. "There is the crazy sex to consider."

Pulling his bowie knife, Kaska quickly had Hirami's pants cut away. He hadn't been overly careful about it, however, and he had grazed his captive's fur in a few places. Praying he could infuriate Kaska into killing him prematurely, Hirami gathered as much liquid in his mouth as he could. He figured most of it was blood, but he had quit tasting the blood over an hour ago. He spit it at the other Doberman just as he stood up. The glob missed Kaska's body, only to fall to the ground. They both looked down simultaneously, to see that it had splattered across the wide tongue of his tormentor's leather boot.

Kaska shook his head, as if saddened. He cocked his foot back, before lunging forward in a vicious kick. As the steel toe connected with the side of Hirami's jaw, Kaska grunted out, "Now you are going to have to" CRACK "clean that up!" Blackness instantly overtook him as he was knocked unconscious.

Hirami woke to a sudden burst of pain. He coughed and reflexively pulled away from source of the pain, centered in his lower guts. That simply drove him back onto the cock embedded in his burning tailhole. Rough hands shoved him back down into a position of their choosing as he felt a large knot pound harshly against his opening. He pulled forward this time, only to have his face scrape against something hard and rough. Squinting through blackened eyes, he could just make out the blurry shape of a black leather boot. He had just rubbed against the laces, leaving, he noticed, smears of blood and saliva across it surface.

"Glad to see you're awake," said a voice from above. "Time to get to cleaning."

At first, Hirami refused to play along. Very quickly, someone's hands grabbed his ears, forcing his muzzle against the leather. Eventually they even pried open his jaw, forcing his tongue into a patch of the slimy residue. Between the pain, the humiliation, the rape, and the utter hopelessness of his situation, tears began running down the broken Doberman's cheeks. The salty residue flowed into open cuts, but the minor sting was lost in everything else.

All three of Kaska's Pincers had a turn in Hirami's ass before he stepped up. In a case like this, however, he didn't mind sloppy seconds. As he watched his third soldier thrust his knot in and out of the semi-lucid captive's ravaged tailhole, he stroked his own ten inch member until it stood at attention. Once it was fully hard, he began wrapping its entire length in a thin leather cord. By the time he finished, the head of his cock was a deep purple and the other canine was climaxing. As he tore his knot out for a final time, his load of cum washed out a nearly equal volume of blood.

Kneeling in the gory puddle of fluids, he lined his leather-wrapped cock with the traitor's tortured hole.

"When I get finished with you," he said arrogantly, "your ass is going to be looser than a whore's pussy after a Saturday night!"

With that, he shoved his entire ten inches in to the hilt.

The rape continued for at least another hour. Other squads joined in the fun, and some of the original guys took second turns. Then they recommenced the beating. Overseeing it all stood Kaska, always ready to step in and ensure no one got carried away and did enough damage to kill him.

As the Pincers stood and looked over the prone form of Hirami, a thought occurred to the beaten canine. This was how his brother felt every day. It was the wrong thing, no matter what he did. He cried out and they beat him for it. He stayed silent, swallowing his screams, and they hurt him worse. Roll to one side and they kicked him in the ribs. Roll the other way, and it was kidney punches. As he watched Kaska pull out that massive blade for the parting shot, Hirami's one thought was, "I don't want to be my brother".

As Boriku stood and looked over the prone form of the fallen horse, a thought occurred to the Doberman. This was how his brother felt every day. It was violence at the orders of someone else. For Boriku, it had been Horitzu and this damn Getaway. For Hirami, it was his officers, and ultimately, the Consular. He didn't care if it was a sane decision, or a 'socially acceptable' decision. Boriku decided right there that he wanted nothing further to do with violence. As he gazed upon Orimo's battered form and listened to the Paint's moans as he tried in vain to sit up, Boriku's one thought was, "I don't want to be my brother".

END CHAPTER 4

The Bukkake was requested by my Ex, a 'coon named Foz. He really wishes he was Fanji right about now!

Jimmy Wolf suggested the rape fetish scene "with lots of leather", which got me on a roll and really brought this story out. Thank you. I don't think it's what you had in mind, but there you go.

For anyone interested in contacting me, I would love to hear from you. I can be reached at:

My e-mail is [email protected]

My AIM is SkaPapaBear

I don't have a YIM or MSN or anything else, but I have a program where I can receive any of those, so give it a shot.

I do take story requests, and I do take suggestions both for species of residents of the Kennels and fetishes for the Getaway. "Shower me with your kinks!!!"

One superhero talking to another, as they run into a villain on their way to lunch:

"This is quite the pickle we've gotten ourselves into. But I do relish the chance to dish out some punishment to our foes. Lettuce sandwich this into our busy schedules and turn them to hamburger, giving them their just desserts. Then we can jam."