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A Breakout and A Bath

By: ToKu

He couldn't sleep. It wasn't even late yet but his mother had sent him to bed early for no reason. His room was large, filled with the same plain wooden toys and writing desk that had been there before his extended absence. A large formal orange and brown rug covered most of the hard wood floor and aside from the few framed pictures of Victorian gardens and a large print of classical composer, Bach; the room was bare. He was back to his mundane life. The wolf-Shepard pup pulled his Egyptian cotton sheets up over his head until only his eyes and muzzle could be seen. The fetal position always felt the most comfortable to him now. Before he would sleep on his back, but after long nights in the tiger's basement he had learned to comfort himself with his own body heat.

The last light of day could still be seen through the white drapes of his windows and the growing brilliance of the full moon kept the stars hidden behind a luminescent glow. Zachary watched at the tree outside would sway gently in the outside breeze, creating a longing to be outside. His parents never let him play much and despite the reasoning's behind it, his time with John Miller had been the most exciting time of his life. He knew he shouldn't be thinking it, but if he had to go through everything he went through again, just to spend more time with the detective, he would.

In the past three days he had sat and talked to what seemed to be over a hundred adults; all who wanted to know all of the things that had happened to him. Policemen, detectives like Mr. Miller, therapists, psychologists, dietitians, social workers and reporters. He remembered seeing a piece of the newspaper that had made his father angry after reading it. It only said that the police were cracking down on child-abuse in the city and that they have a strong lead. Zachary knew his father wasn't exactly thrilled about him being back. It was his own father who had left him with the tiger in the first place. Why he did something like that wasn't exactly sure. He had never said where they were going that day or even explain why he was leaving him alone with strange adults. Looking back the pup was actually a little glad he did. He got to meet Detective John Miller after all.

Rolling over he tried to prevent the awakening between his legs. Over the past seventy-two hours he had been told all about molestation and the rights and wrongs of sexuality; nothing he hadn't be taught in school. Adults weren't allowed to touch boys like him. It made Zachary feel guilty for thinking about it; the way the tiger and bear used to fuck him and the way John touched himself to the video the night in the police station. John was a good guy, why couldn't he let John do those things to him?

He held his breath for a moment; waiting to see if he could hear his mother crying or his father yelling. The house seemed quiet and still, only the tree outside seemed to move akwardl in the night air. He took that as a cue to throw the sheets off his body. In nothing but his white briefs he padded over to his window, his growing boner threatening to break through his sheath. It happened every time he thought of those sexual things; getting fucked, watching other boys get fucked, and mostly of John and the night they had slept together; the way a father and son should, at least in his mind. His father was never affectionate, never spoke to him kindly, and was always distant. He used to tell him he loved him but even that stopped many years ago.

Reaching into his underwear he adjusted the furry growth before opening his window. The cool night air rushed into his room, surrounding him in a refreshing embrace. It made him shiver but he enjoyed it as it ran up his belly and rustled the fur around his neck. Carefully he climbed up on the ledge, turned skillfully and ducked out onto the roof without much trouble. He was over the kitchen; no one would be able to hear his paw-steps so he quickly shuffled down to the gutter where a sturdy lattice was fixed on the side of the house.

He had climbed down it once before, last summer when he was off school and his parents were busy with work. Watching where he placed his foot-paws and cautiously swinging himself over the ledge of the roof and the side of the lattice, he was able to hook all four paws into the rungs of the makeshift ladder. With the cool evening air at his back, ruffling the fur between his legs and up his back, he slowly inched his way down.

About half way down he came to a large window that looked into their dinning room, it stood empty but he could see a light on down the hall where a room sat reserved for their cook, Jacobson. His father was quite rich and had many servants to do 'this' and 'that'. Even Zachary had various furs to do all sorts of things, ever since he was little. They would shuffle by, sweeping or dusting, mopping or fixing something, cooking or folding laundry and even picked up his toys and put them back on the shelf, neat and orderly. The pup usually paid little mind to most of them as they usually did the same to him, but Jacobson had worked for his father since before he was born and the boar was always willing to sneak Zachary a late night snack every so often. He was more of a father figure than his own dad was.

With both foot-paws firmly on the grassy ground he wiped his paws together, dusting off the little splinters and dead twigs that had gotten caught between his paw pads. He knew all the doors and windows would be locked but the cellar door was always ajar. He set off around the perimeter of the kitchen, passed the bay windows of the sitting room to where the 'back' of the house abruptly turned into the 'side' near a group of palm trees, it ran along where most of the servants could live; though Jacobson was the only one who actually lived here so he knew he wouldn't be disturbing anyone by lifting the latch to the old wooden doors.

The basement was dark but it didn't scare him, he spent many many days down in the tiger's basement and he had learned to like the darkness because it saved his eyes from having to see the truly scary things that might be lurking about. He knew there wasn't anything to be afraid of down in his father's basement except the occasional spider. It was dark, dusty, crammed full of old furniture, but there weren't any cages or tigers or bears for him to be afraid of, so he felt his way through and under and over the old antiques with care until he came to the bottom of a creaky wooden stairwell. He could see a faint light coming from the crack under the door but before he could place his paw on where he knew the doorknob was, he was blinded by a sudden light and a deep startling boom.

Jacobson nearly filled the whole doorway, though he stood roughly four feet from the top. Short and squat, the boar wore dirty white pants stained with the evening's dinner. His white chef's coat was undone, exposing his fury brown chest and large round belly. In one paw he held a flashlight, the source of the sudden blinding light, the other held an old wooden baseball bat. The boar's wary and tired face meted away when he saw the pup, most likely glad he was not an intruder or a thief, but Zachary noticed the older fur's eyes as they noticed he was only in his underwear and covered in soot.

"Zachary? My dear boy..." He spoke almost at a loss of words but still held out his paw after pocketing the flashlight. He helped the pup up the last few steps, softly shutting the door behind him before finally turning back to the poor cub. "What are you doing down here? I thought your mother sent you to bed hours ago. After all your family has been through, what you've been through, I'd think you'd be taking better care of yourself. How did you get down into the basement anyhow? Never mind trying to explain, if your parents found you in this state, they'd throw a fit."

"No they wouldn't." Zachary spoke softly as the boar ushered him down the hall, paws and boots all but silent on the rugged floor, though an occasional wooden floorboard would creak under Jacobson's weight. He was only a few inches taller than the wolf-Sheppard, but was almost twice as old as the pup. Even older than his father, but only a suggestion of grey could be seen behind his short pointed ears. He smelt like sage and tomatoes and basil with the underlying scent of male. Zachary couldn't help but shuffle close to the larger body as he was ushered into a washroom adjacent to the kitchen.

"And what makes you say that?" Jacobson asked incredulously as they both filled the cramped little bathroom. Pulling a washrag from a cupboard by the sink, the boar turned on the hot water and lathered up some soap before turning back to the pup who stood with a slight hunch and his paws behind his back like his father used to make him do in public. "Your parents love you and I'm sure they are absolutely overjoyed to have you back. Your mother was in tears when you went missing and your father..."

Zachary waited, but when the boar simply touched the wet washcloth to his face fur he knew nothing would come. He knew that Jacobson didn't know about his father, how he had left him, driven away without a single glance back, but he was quite aware of how unemotional and restrained he could be. If his father cared, he had a strange way of showing it. As for his mother, she's been doing a lot of crying since he had been back too, and if she was overjoyed, her tears made an wrong impression. Truth be told, he was just tired of being locked in his room.

"Boy, you sure are filthy." Jacobson sighed in defeat, tossing the blackened washcloth in a nearby hamper. Despite his gruff voice he smiled and sat down on the toilet, turning on the water to the tub. "Might as well run you a bath, I can't send you back up to bed like this."

Zachary watched as the big boar leaned in and twisted the faucets, causing a loud groan before water began filling up the spacious tub. Even for a servant's bathroom, the cabinets were still oak, though not as nicely varnished, the sink was marble but plain and the bath; raised porcelain but lacking the gold finish along the rim. Zachary remembered back to when he had showered at the CPS station, how he had been naked in front of John and, while frightened by him the older canine at first, ended up being comfortable enough to sleep in his arms. Jacobson had also been more caring than his own father and while not a canine, still masculine and stern, two things that usually made Zachary perk up in all the right places, or were they wrong places?

"Once this fills, I'll leave you to wash up, then it's back to bed for you." Jacobson spoke firmly while adjusting the warmth of the water. He was a little too preoccupied by it that when he turned back to the pup he almost didn't notice that Zachary had already taken off his underwear. However, the adolescent erection was unmistakable and when the boar's eyes finally found their way south he expected a retort, a shout, an embarrassing panicked clearing of the voice at least but what the pup got was a chuckle and a shake of the head. "I sure hope that's not for me."

Zachary was a little stumped. He knew there were two types of males; ones who wanted it; like the tiger and the bear and ones who feared wanting it; like John. Jacobson just looked on, half amused and half admiringly, the hard lines in his face looking softer even under the coarse brown fur. The whites of his eyes were milky but the hazel of his eyes was sharp and clear, almost as if he knew something.

"I've seen you grow up from a little baby boy to the young adult you are, Zachary, you've always been a curious little pup." The boar spoke rising from the toilet seat, the linoleum floor squeaking as he shifted. "I know you've been through a lot, m'boy, but you're home now and you don't have to worry about bad furs no more."

"But you're not a bad fur." Zachary said simply because he wanted to see how Jacob responded. If he learned one thing while being kept as a pet sex slave is that even though you're the one being forced against our will, there were ways to get what you wanted too, though while those options are limited, you could dictate when your captive cums or when he passes out from pure exhaustion.

"Well, no, I'm not. What makes you say that?" Jacobson asked trying not to look down at Zachary's lengthening erection. Zachary knew that even good furs think bad things, and while the boar was practically like an uncle, he felt an strange urge, ever since he was freed he still desired all the things he was subjected to. He discovered this the same night he had showered at the CPS office and only fingering himself to orgasm cured that empty feeling he was experiencing once again.

"Can I tell you something?" Zachary asked, feeling guilty for being manipulative but rationalizing it by telling himself that he was just a kid and Jacobson was an adult and he was only hurting himself, if anyone at all.

"Of course." Jacobson said earnestly, turning from the crash of bath water as he rolled up his shirt sleeves.

"I've been with a guy like you before." Zachary said. It was half a lie, and partially truth. The bear was nowhere near as nice and he knew Jacobson wouldn't keep him in a cage, but they were both similar in size and shape and Zachary couldn't help but wonder if his 'thing' was similar too.

"W-what do you mean with?" The boar asked a little confused. Zachary wasn't sure how much he knew about what happened when his own father left him with two horny adult strangers, there might have been talk among the serving staff about it, whispers of kidnaps and molestation. Those were the words the workers and CPS used and Zachary didn't have a better way to explain it, but he did it the best he could.

"While I was gone, ya know..." He said solemnly, his paw absentmindedly moving towards his boner until it was tightly wrapped around the five-inch shaft. Jacobson's stare shifting south made it throb a bit and he couldn't help his tail as it started wagging in sexual excitement. "I had a male in my tail-hole every night, sometimes more than just one."

Jacobson obviously didn't know what to say to that; his eyes darted up and down, his thick tongue licked his dry lips nervously and his restless paws kept trying to straighten his dirty pant legs. If there was even a suggestion of a bulge Zachary couldn't tell, but he made it his goal to make one appear.

"I had a lot of bad furs do all sorts of stuff to me" Zachary continued, now actively stroking his thirteen-year-old boner. The boar's eyes kept darting south then back up before drifting south but it was obvious he was trying his best to keep his stare level with the pup. The boar's eyes kept darting south, then back up before slowly drifting lower but it was obvious he was trying his best to keep his stare level with the pup. "Then I was rescued by a detective who took me to this place where I was able to wash all the sticky stuff off. He even let me sleep with him in a little bed. I pretended he was my dad because my father never does anything good like that for me. I don't even mind that he touched himself to a video he had of me when the bear was putting a big rubber dick in my butt. He said..."

"Z-Zachary...my poor boy... Please..." The boar grunted but whether it was from anguish or intrigue the pup couldn't tell. He expected the boar to do something; pulling his eyes from where the underage cock was being stroked by its owner was obviously a challenge. The wolf-sheppard thought he had the boar all horny but he didn't expect what happened next.

Before he could get another good stroke out of his cock, two rough boar paws were under his arms, lifting him up through the air only to splash down into a bath of warm, soapy water. Straightening up, Jacobson's snout was colored a little red but he wore a warm smile that, while unexpected, was rather welcoming. The gentle giant whisked the soap foam from his hands before handing the pup a bottle of his own body-fur shampoo.

"Wash up, I'll come back and check on you in a few minutes," He said with a quick nod before turning and leaving the pup to his own silence. His bath water was already turning gray with grime and he felt his erection fading underneath the suds. Thoroughly stumped, he thought he knew how adults worked, most of them anyways. He didn't even get a chance to see if he had caused the desired filling out of those dingy white pants.

He didn't really know what to do. He felt trapped, and a part of him wished he were back in that bed with John Miller, or even back with the Tiger because then he would at least have something in his butt or in his mouth. He couldn't really think of why he wanted those things so badly. As upsetting as it was that his own father had abandoned him with the bad fur's, he would never have experienced an orgasm the way he had or gotten to sleep with a caring German Sheppard.

Absentmindedly rubbing the body-fur shampoo into his fur he thought about his dad, John, the tiger and the bear, even little Dustin and his father Regan who seemed to have an interesting relationship. He wished he had one like that with his dad, or better yet, with John. He was trying with Jacobson but even that seemed impossible. Why were adults so difficult?

Silence settled in as he finished rinsing his fur, the steady dripping of water from the faucet was almost as loud as the thoughts in his head. His fur clung to his skin like a wet sweater as his paws played with the swirling gray soap as the bath water cooled. He was almost cold when Jacobson's large form appeared in the door frame. He had changed his clothes; his stained white pants had been replaced by sweatpants the color of his bath water, and while he was now shirtless, a bobbed sleeping cap adorned his thick cranium. He almost looked comical, even as he smiled wide, tusks having been freshly brushed. Zachary's erection stirred.

"All clean?" He asked stepping up to the edge of the tub.

"Jacobson..." Zachary mumbled before the boar had a chance to say anything further. "I'm sorry but, I don't want to go back up to my room tonight."

The boar regarded him strangely, almost as if he was trying to figure out the pup's inner workings. His snout furrowed and his thick furry skin bulged over years of neglected muscle. With a slight smile and a shake of his massive head the chef reached for a thick cotton towel before shaking it out and holding it open above the pup. "Come on then, lets get you out of there."

Zachary stood carefully, his foot-nails scraping the inside of the tub. His penis was back inside his sheath but he could feel, even without looking down at himself that the furry encasing was thicker than normal. He let himself be wrapped in the warm white towel, as thick paws began to rub the water from his fur. He stared up at the boar as he worked and only got a smile and a soft hum in return. The masculine touch worked over his whole body, but it was different from when the bad fur's would touch him. There was no ill intent when the towel reached his rear end, no malicious attempt when it came to his inner thighs, not even when his sheath and testicles got a quick, once over. That didn't stop the tip of pink to show itself and he knew that the boar noticed, there was no mistaking the double take, the pause, and the quiet, yet thundering sound of a nervous gulp in his throat.

"Have you ever done stuff with a boy before, Jacobson?" Zachary asked bravely. It was a question he would have never normally asked anyone, not even John, at least not before meeting the otter boy Dustin. He helped him realize that a good touch, a good suck, or a good fuck was sometimes just a question away. He knew his body wanted it, his mind too, but he was still new and asking for it.

"C-can't say that I have, m'boy." Crouching down, with one knee on the ground so as to get at the boy's bottom half; he spoke like someone who wasn't missing out on much, but Zachary couldn't bring himself to give up there. He knew he was probably making things awkward but adults could be the most awkward of all. He didn't want to make the boar feel bad, only make him feel good, and feel good in return.

"There was one boy, who I met after I was rescued, he was an otter, he showed me how to have sex without being hurt." The wolf-Sheppard chirped in his slightly upper-pitched monotone while the strong hands dried his legs and feet. He felt a slight chill but his fur was still damp and tried to resist the urge to hug himself around the middle. The coolness, however, did nothing to stop his erection from revitalizing. The knot popped free and before he knew it the boar was practically face to face with the tapered tip. "He let me stick it in him, in his butt. It felt really good. Before then, I had only ever had stuff in me, not the other way around."

"All dry now, Zachary." Jacobson said breathily, finally draping the towel around the boy's head like a hood before standing up, but not before taking a full two second stare at the swollen appendage before him. There were water spots on his knees and his hat was skewed but the area that hid his male-hood wasn't protruding like Zachary hoped it would. "How about we have some hot tea before bed? Don't worry about your briefs, boy, I'll make sure they're washed by the morning."

Zachary nodded, thinking; 'Adults are weird.' Before being whisked through the bathroom door, out into the hall, past a few closed doors, a broom closet and a secondary hall to where another similar door stood open, warm light flooding out into the darker hallway, his knotted erection bobbing and bouncing the whole way. The doorway opened up into a modest sized room, neat and clean except for a hamper over flowing with stained white clothes. The bed in the corner was smaller than his own; but big enough for the robust boar, who shut the door behind them before crossing to a nightstand beside the bed where an electric kettle was steaming and two cups sat with teabags already resting inside, awaiting their own bath. A dark wooden dresser opposite his bed was littered with framed black and white photos, the only colored one being of a much younger boar wearing glasses and a bright orange and brown knitted sweater. In the midst of the frames was a radio softly emitting brass and wind instruments with the harsh hiss of static adding its own odd addition.

"I don't normally have company but I always have a second cup just encase, and extra tea bags." Jacobson said busily pouring the hot water from the stainless steel kettle into the two ceramic tea cups. Zachary looked over at him, then down at himself, his erection still persistently awake, then back to the photos. Letting the towel fall to the floor as it slipped from his head, he noticed it was much warmer in the little room and as he studied the various photos and their inhabitants, he found himself subconsciously touching himself; stroking his cock, squeezing when he got to the knot, and pulling on his balls as the whole thing throbbed. "That's my son when he was your age, give or take a few months."

The wolf-Sheppard had stopped by the color photo again. He had almost thought that it was a picture of Jacobson when he was younger, but he noticed that the fur around the young boars face was more orange than brown, in addition to the sweater, the whole picture seemed warm with age.

"That was right before he got sick." Jacobson spoke sounding rather somber but when Zachary turned back he saw that the boar still wore a warm smile as he regarded the young pup. If the adult noticed that he was halfheartedly masturbating, Zachary couldn't tell. "Had a rare condition that effected his motor skills, he lived with it for a year before he couldn't walk anymore. A year after that he was gone. I'm glad that he didn't suffer too long. They still haven't found a cure for what he had so I'm glad he went when he did. Tea is ready, but careful, it's a bit hot."

With a paw on his cock, he shuffled over to where the boar sat on the edge of his bed and took the cup he offered. He stood a second, not knowing what to do with himself before finally deciding sitting down beside the boar who brought his own cup to his lips to lightly slurp. Smelling sweet and earthy, the tea was actually bitter at first when sipped, but by the second and third drink Zachary realized it was a good bitter, strong and soothing.

"Earl Grey." Jacobson spoke.

"I like it." Zachary replied.

"Ah, the first thing you've said that hasn't made me feel guilty." The boar chuckled and this made Zachary feel bad to still be holding his dick, but he didn't let go either.

"I'm sorry..."

"For what, m'boy?" The boar asked incredulously, placing a paw on his leg, though nearer to the knee than to his privates. "After everything you've gone through, everything you've had to endure, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"Do you wanna touch it?" Zachary said hopefully but this only made the boar laugh and shake his head, causing the bed to bounce under his weight. Although he did look down at it twice, the last being a double take as if considering. "Or I can touch yours."

'Zachary," The boar said, lifting his paw to his eyes where he wiped a tear away, but the pup knew it wasn't a sad tear because we was still chuckling under his breath. "Understand this; I've seen you grow up all these long years and this isn't the first time I've seen you naked, and probably not the last. You're a good-looking young male, I can tell you're gonna fill out just fine. As for me, I'm only attracted to two things; food and being a father. Since I can only be one of those things now it's become my life. But seeing you come out of that cellar covered in soot and dust sent me into father mode again after all these years. I'm a pretty moralistic guy and I'd see nothing wrong with you being the way you are, but It wouldn't feel right to me if I participated, besides, I'm almost fifty-five and my 'willy' just ain't what it used to be."

There was a silence then, a quiet that stretched and filled the whole room, even the pup stopped his slow, methodical paw movements as the resulting squish and squeeze was almost deafening. It wasn't defeat he felt, or shame, or even disappointment, but rather a keen sense of loss. After the months spent in sodomitical company, his body had developed an addiction of sorts, a need for that fulfillment, that abuse, that holistic fuck. Jacobson's paw on his leg, rubbing gently, soothingly, innocently, was a comforting realization, but Zachary, being only thirteen, didn't quite realize that it was a far more normal touch than an overwhelming desire to have his dick touched.

"I'm no saint, Zachary." The boar breathed a heavy sigh but it didn't have the normal languish most sighs have. It was calm and content and simply a way to defuse tension. The pup looked up from his knotted cock, into those dark hazel eyes, blinked several times and waited. "Back in my day I was a regular masturbator, even had several consorts who would satisfy my humble needs, so I wont blame you if you needed to let your pent up energies out. I actually would have thought you'd have done it in the bath. That was always my favorite place as a boy. But I have another proposition for you, ma'boy."

The thought of Jacobson masturbating in the tub would have normally been enough to make him cum but the Wolf-Sheppard noticed that it seemed only a far off interest. He was almost mystified by the older fur's voice, transfixed on his stare, and every soft caress of his rough paw on his fluffy soft knee was more satisfying than any other cock that had forced itself inside of him.

"Now, You can, if you want to, finish up there. I don't mind cleaning up another mess, but..." Jacobson spoke, straightening his nightcap and taking one final swig of his tea before neatly replacing the ceramic dish by the kettle. "It's getting rather late, and I'll need to get you back up to your room before first light. I know it might not sound like much but falling asleep with you in my arms would fill this old boars heart with more joy than I've felt in many years. Would you like that Zachary?"

The pup could only nod, thinking of John in the back of his mind and they way they had laid that night in the small little bed. He realized that he wanted that again, more than anything. He could even feel his erection starting to fade as if the boar's touch was soothing away an angry itch that no amount of cum could itch.

"All done with your tea?" The boar asked, he brows lifting in inquiry. "It's quite good isn't it?"

"Yes, sir." Zachary spoke, the last of his sexual courage fading away with his cock. By the time Jacobson set the second teacup on the side table, thrown back the covers to reveal crisp white sheets, his sheath had fully encased his adolescent member.

"No need for such formalities." Jacobson said with another smile as he placed his cap on the left most bedpost before easing himself down into the mattress to get comfortable. Zachary eagerly followed; snuggling up until his tail was sandwiched between his back and Jacobson's belly. He was warm and smelled just like the body shampoo he had used in the tub.

With a quick flick the covers were over both of their bodies, sealing in the warmth. Zachary felt giddy inside, almost like the first time he had ever reached orgasm and that strange afterglow seemed to swallow him. It was similar and yet different, as this felt eternal but even a thirteen year old knows that nothing last forever. It wasn't forever but morning was still a long while off; he thought as Jacobson reached across him to turn out the light but once the light was extinguished, the arm stayed, tucking itself around the pup's middle so that his paw rested on his chest. It felt nice having such a large body hugging him. Even though it made him smile he felt a little sad deep down. He knew his dad would never hug him like this, never has, never will. He wanted this every night before bed.

"Jacobson." He whispered.

"Yes, ma'boy." He replied sleepily.

"Can I come sleep with you every night? I promise not to try and make you touch me, un-unless..."

"Unless I wanted to?" Jacobson finished for him with his usual chuckle, his paw continuing that pleasant stroke of puppy chest fur. "Maybe not every night, but it would be something to look forward to, let's say, once once a week."

Shivering in pleasure to his touch Zachary squirmed for a moment, trying to scoot even further back into Jacobson's body. His butt was right where his crotch was but there wasn't even a suggestion of sheath. He was okay with that tough, this moment, this feeling was too wonderful in and of itself to need anything more. And with that he felt sleep take him almost immediately

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Rosa Carson tightened the sash around her dark gray, faux wool coat as the cold mid-day breeze swept through the pavilion, causing her splinted wrist to ache. All around furs were rushing to the next shop, to their cars, or trying their best to brave the chill of the early winter. The curls in her head fur would stay put but she was a little more worried about the contents of her purse. Ever since those convenience store thieves stole her car at gunpoint she was a little more edgy and suspicious but that's not what had her particularly unsettled today. She stared out across the main street as she huddled next to a column, her eyes falling hopefully on every canine that passed her by, anxious to be done with the day's deeds.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Ma'am." A deep voice spoke suddenly from beside her, taking her by surprise and causing her to jump slightly.

"Oh my goodness..." she breathed in a rush of cold crisp air, clutching her breast while taking in the large canine form. He was dressed sharply in a black pea-coat, dark gray slacks and black business casual shoes; unusual for canines. He stood a good foot and a half taller than her humble five feet but his face was soft with a kind smile as he held out his paw for hers. However, the dark circles under his eyes gave him a tired appearance despite his proper posture and pointy and alert ears.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you." He spoke deeply and with diction, his German Sheppard features and facial markings giving him an even more concerned expression.

"You're quite all right," Rosa assured unnecessarily checking her perm for loose curls with a quick pat of her bandaged paw. "I should have said to meet inside instead of out. I didn't think it would be this cold."

"Winter has seemed to sneak up on us this year." He agreed as she finally took his paw with her good one. "John Miller."

"Rosa Carson."

I must say you look nothing like your brother, Ms. Carson." John spoke as they both turned into the coffee shop under the Pavilions shelter. "He's no where near as pretty as you are."

"There's nothing pretty about my brother, detective." Rosa spoke calmly though inside she felt a strange mixture of sadness and repulsion. The warmth of the interior or the rich smell of roasted coffee beans did nothing to sooth her apprehension and despite the Sheppard's attempt at satire nothing could change how she felt about her brother. It was bad enough she still felt rattled from the previous night.

"I can agree with you there, ma'am." John spoke with all seriousness. "I've worked near him for the past five years. I know quite well what he's capable of."

"Maybe we should get a secluded seat before we continue." Rosa pointed out.

"Agreed."

She ordered a large Cappuccino with extra whipped cream while detective John Miller got his coffee black. He offered to pay. She almost refused him but it would save her from having to dig inside her purse for her wallet. While normally not an issue, the contents were private to say the least. Clutching the bag to her side she graciously let him pay. The friendly bat behind the counter smiled and quickly set out to make their drinks.

"This is one of my favorite places." Rosa spoke warmly trying not to think too hard about why they were here. "There usually aren't many furs in here at this time of day: all the students are still in class and businesses don't take lunches until about one p.m. They hang local art up and have all sorts of information about local events and job opportunities on the bulletin board."

"I've been in here once or twice" John spoke as he gazed about. "but I normally get my coffee from a gas station as I don't normally have the leisure of stopping in a place like this. It's a nice change of pace."

"And better coffee." She smiled but took a deep breath. She didn't know how well the canine was at reading people, being a detective she would imagine he was pretty good, but if he noticed how troubled she seemed, he hid it well.

"Quite."

They picked a spot farthest from the ordering counter, against a window that looked out on the main street where passerby hurried on with their chilly day. Using a plastic spoon, Rosa scooped off a few bites of whipped cream, savoring the sweetness before finally taking a delicate sip. Her purse she had set beside her in the booth, keeping it close to her thigh even though she knew it was safe. The only other furson in the building was a wispy old fox that sat reading a newspaper by himself on the other side of the room. Despite this she still spoke softly, she had gone her whole life without ever standing up for what she knew was right, and even though she was about to, she was still terrified.

"My brother is a monster, detective." Rosa spoke with an odd lump of guilt in her throat. Taking another sip of her cappuccino she collected herself, puffing her perm a bit with her good paw before trudging on. 'It has to be done.' "But he wasn't always the way he is now."

The Sheppard leaned in, ears at full attention, his paws wrapped gingerly around his own coffee. Rosa could see that this detective knew what he was doing. He came highly recommended by that handsome hawk who at fixed her all up the other night. Granted, it had taken two low-dose Xanax and a cup of chamomile tea before she could work up the nerve to call him last night, but was glad she had finally taken that step after so may years of silence.

"We didn't have the best of childhoods, Gregory and I." Rosa continued on as steadily as she could, the faint sound of Christmas jazz was calming enough to hold her together, despite the holidays being the hardest time of the year for her. "Without going into too much detail our father was a drunk, and it drove our mother away, abandoning us to the torment of an abusive bear."

"Sexually abusive?" John cut in, but Rosa shook her head slowly.

"I've thought and thought about it, read over my diaries as a girl, and scoured books on abuse and it's effect. And while I'm no expert, I do know that my father's harsh treatment of us affected the way Gregory thought." Clutching her purse she continued. "Gregory was a quiet cub, we both had to be in the shadow of our father. He was always hardest on him, always telling him he was weak and useless. Always making terrible accusations that Gregory took to heart. He believed he was worthless at times and others he was simply introverted to the point where he would sleep most of the day. When he graduated high school he enrolled at the police academy and vowed to become the shining definition of justice. I knew he wanted to prove to our father that he was worthy. I didn't know he had already been taking anti-anxiety meds since his junior year on top of vicoden and oxy-cotton. It was a copping mechanism I guess. I didn't find out about his other 'issues until later on, once I was already married and had a child of my own."

Rosa saw a strange twinge of unknown sympathy well up in the dark eyes of the detective and despite what he knew or what she thought he knew, it was always hard to recount those years in private, let alone with a stranger, but the way the canine sat, held himself in proper posture and truly gave his full undivided attention was a type of comfort for the female bear.

"Gregory became really close with my son." Rosa said flatly, although inside she felt shame and pity and repulsion. "My husband had fallen on hard times and Gregory, having just graduated the academy, he seemed a great roll model for my little Logan who was struggling with being bullied, having just started middle school. He would always take Logan out for dinners or buy him a new action figure for getting good grades. I was working full time and my husband had just started a new job under a temp-agency and they had him working close to sixty hours a week so we really relied on Gregory..."

It was all coming back, flooding up from the depths of her soul where she knew the dams were ready to burst, she was able to prevent the tears from welling up but her lips were quivering and she had a death grip on her purse straps.

"Ma'am, are you alright." John Miller asked, holding out a napkin. Apparently she hadn't noticed that a few tears had indeed escaped the lids of her eyes. "We can take a breather, or if you'd be willing to meet another time I could..."

"No, I'm quite alright." She said with a quiver in her voice but determination in her brow. She lifted her purse up from beside her, setting it on the table gently as if the contents were beyond value, in a way they were. She unzipped it and began to rummage through. "I love my brother, detective, I always have, but I hate the monster he had become and I can no longer live with the knowledge that he's been doing the same thing to others that he did with my boy, Logan."

Pulling a large Ziploc plastic bag from within, she set it between them on the table, glancing nervously around despite the bag looking rather inconspicuous. Inside were half dozen hi-fi recordable tapes that obviously had once been compatible with a camcorder decades old. Detective John Miller's stared at the plastic bag with a determination that almost frightened Rosa but she knew it was for the best.

"These belonged to Gregory for a number of years." Rosa went on, mustering up her last bit of strength. "It was rather difficult for me to get these but after my son... Well, I knew that I needed something encase I ever had to, to..."

"Rosa, are you telling me that these are tapes of Gregory?" John asked, his own voice having gone rather horse. Rosa could only nod herself. "And of your son, Logan."

Again she could only nod.

"If these evidence checks out and we're able to build a case, would you and your son be able to testify against him?"

She couldn't stop the tears this time, she didn't want to. It actually felt good to cry after all these years. The coffee shop seemed so small then, so tight and cramped that she almost felt suffocated but somehow, the holiday tunes, the smell of nutmeg and cinnamon and the chill draft as another customer entered all brought her back around as she remembered a rather joyous Christmas about seven years ago that brought a strange sad smile to her face.

"I would be willing to testify, Mr. Miller." Rosa spoke with determination. "My son on the other hand wont be able to, having taken his life five years ago after just turning sixteen."

-End of Part: Nine