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Something I cooked up for Lykos Bane's Boyfriend, Koshne. Enough said.

In Treatment

Part I - The Arrival

2009 by Eldyran

As the scrawny coyote stood in the musty courtroom wearing nothing nothing but jumpsuit orange and shackles, a depraved grin split his muzzle. A black tipped tail swished about in merry defiance, the gray and brown with red tipped fur catching the diffused light in the room just right. It gave the yote a ruddy, disheveled appearance.

"So Mr. ..." The judge trailed off, paging through the thick manila file before giving a condescending look over his thick bifocals to the defendant. " ... how should I address you? Most of your aliases are obscene, and I can't pronounce the other names you seem to favor." The coyote just licked this dry muzzle lips up at the wizened badger, the guard hairs of his hackles bristling. This one was going to be a fun one to mess with.

"I guess that fancy law degree isn't much help then is it, bender? Huehuecoyotl is quite esoteric isn't it? Please. Call me Chris." The coyote's yellow fangs gleamed with smug satisfaction when the badger didn't get the dated insult.

"Well ... Mr. ... Chris." The judge tapped his claw on the opened file in front of him. He seemed to contemplate something. He looked up at the DA, a thin stringy weasel who looked greasy enough to slip through a sink's drainpipe. "Mr. Raynard. Is this paperwork complete and up to date? The defendant's social security number lists him as female."

"It's as complete as it is going to get I'm afraid, Your Honor. His record is kinda patchwork. We don't know why. There must have been a mix up somewhere in several key databases." The weasel adjusted his tie with nervous paws. The coyote next to him noticed how tight his collar fit around that scrawny neck of his. He fantasized about replacing it with his ever tightening paws. The badger gave an annoyed huff and flipped through some more paperwork.

"Chris. I see that you've spent most of your adult life bouncing between mental asylums and county jail cells. Your criminal record contains nothing more serious than disorderly conduct charges, a few instances of disturbing the peace, resisting arrest, and assault on several peace offers. Your psychological profile implies that you are a danger to yourself and the general public. If nothing else, you are a general nuisance to society."

"Stop it. You're making me blush." The coyote's shackles jingled as he made an overly feminine, dismissive flourish of his paw. The badger didn't seem amused, and Judge Carver leaned forward, bringing his bulk to rest against the edge of his podium with a heavy creak. It the coyote felt intimidated, he didn't let it show.

"Chris. Lets just get one thing straight. Despite what the social workers and psychologists have written in your defense, I don't buy it. You have shown time and time again you understand the difference between right and wrong, you just choose to ignore it. This court gives no leniency for those who hide behind the guise of criminal insanity."

"Hear that?" He leaned over to his counsel, a female wolf in a nice dark dress but sporting a clashing bright pink scarf, "You're fucked." The judge banged his gavel again and again.

"I will not tolerate profanity in my court room!" He roared with blood shot eyes, cheeks puffing outward like a gerbil hoarding sunflower seeds. "One more juvenile outburst like that and you will find yourself in contempt of court!"

"Or what? You're going to bang your gavel again?" The coyote gave a small little dance of mock fear, as best the length of chain between his wrists and ankles would allow. "Or throw me in solitary again?" He gave an obnoxious bray of taunting laughter back to the overstuffed turkey attempting to preside judgment over him. "I've got all the company I'll ever need right here. Bring it, Douchewit."

"Bailiff!" The badger roared, his black gown ruffling. "Remove this delinquent!"

"With pleasure Your Honor." A sheriff moved forward stiffly, as if sporting some groin injury. Chris just smirked at his gait. The lion looked like a typical hick sheriff of some no name county, complete with Brody sunglasses and 'Failure to Communicate' hat.

"Your Honor!" The public defender interjected. "May counsel approach the bench?" She straightened the hem of her dress and smoothed the creases in her sleeves. Whatever it was it must had been some sort of code between herself and Carver. The badger looked between the DA and PD for a moment before regaining his measured composure. He waved the bailiff off, the lion looking a bit disappointed that he wasn't going to get to use his taser again.

"Very well. But I want to make this perfectly clear Ms. Starling, keep your client under control or he'll see hard time."

The wolfess glanced sideways at the coyote before he dutifully saluted. In a way he kind of admired her hard ass, anal retentive ways. After the weasel and the wolfess approached the badger, they started whispering amongst each. While he waited, the unrepentant coyote picked at his teeth with a razor sharp claw, digging out a three day old chunk of left over chicken caught between his teeth. This brief stint outside bars and glass proved to be more amusing than he bargained for.

"Very well." Judge Carver leaned back in his chair, satisfied. "I sentence the defendant to one week at the Sierra Rehabilitation Facility. The rest of his ten year sentence is stayed, provided he comes out of the program reformed." He banged his gavel and the three grinned back at him. The lion just gave a hallowed chuckle before moving forward to grab the yote by his arm. His cruel claws dug into the coyote's underdeveloped bicep.

"You're going to like it there boy. Plenty of junk for you to grab at." The lion rumbled, his flared feline nostrils snorting right in Chris's splayed ear. The coyote looked at the dark reflection of himself in the sheriff's sunglasses and noticed subtle twinge of fear.

What had he gotten himself into?

* * * * *

The next day Chris jolted awake in the back of a prison bus when one of its tires hit a pothole. The coyote's forehead smacked hard into the barred glass he had fallen asleep against, and the dazed coyote blinked away the bright stars before his eyes. Once they cleared he looked through the diamonds of grated steel up to the overcast sky above. A few flakes of snow drifted past as the bus rocked and bounced up the steep mountain road. Chris looked down the cliff next to the road; a good three thousand foot jagged drop to the craggy bottom below.

Maybe those sharp pointy rocks at the bottom will break my fall. He smiled to himself and pulled on his cuffs shackled to the rail in front of him. The coyote looked ahead to the front of the bus. As the equine driver paid attention to the soggy back road, the lion stood next to him with a readied shotgun. A small amount of disappointment washed through Chris that the badger had only assigned one guard.

He had a nasty habit of slipping out of paw cuffs when no one was looking.

The coyote leaned back on his hard bus seat and yawned. He wasn't in the mood for shenanigans just yet, and he didn't want to foil the light slap on the wrist for his latest indiscretion. A week in the mountains versus ten years rotting away in some backwater county jail cell? He wondered what Ms. Starling had said to finagle that sweet deal.

Chris looked back over the Sierras to the pines and conifers dusted with snow. It was scenic if a bit remote. He put his hind paws up on the rail in front of he and relaxed on his vacation. An hour later the bus drove through a small clearing on the side of the mountain, shielded from the harsh wind. A small rustic cabin sat on the its eastern edge, leaning to one side from years of disuse. The rusted hulks of abandoned logging equipment dotted the rest of the clear cut area.

After the bus lurched to a stop with a squeak and hiss of air brakes, the lion limped over and nudged the barrel of the shot gun into the coyote's ribs.

"Last stop. Try anything funny and I'll ram this so far up your tail hole you'll be spitting gun oil out of your muzzle for a week." The lion rumbled at him as the horse moved back to unlock his shackles from the rail.

"It's a sad day when such a macho lion has to use tools instead of himself to please someone. Why is that? Something wrong with your pecker, pussy cat?" Chris made a feinting lunge at the feline's crotch with a snap of his jaws. The lion startled back on reflex, almost putting the butt of the shotgun between the belligerent canid's eyes. He yanked the coyote out of his seat and shoved him forward with the gun's stock. Chris laughed all the way off the bus.

"Laugh while you can funny boy. There ain't nothin' funny about what's waiting for you out here."

"I'm scared. Really!" Chris jumped off the last step and into the fresh snow with a soft crunch. He looked around and grinned before another shove from behind prompted him toward the cabin. They passed by all the rusty saws and bark strippers. "So what? Your grandiose plan is to kill me with tetanus? At least I'll go out with a smile."

Said smile slipped off his muzzle the instant a seven foot tall bear hunched through the front door of the cabin with a squeak of a screen door spring. The mammoth ursine in coveralls let the off kilter screen door bang shut behind him and plodded out to meet them in the middle of the clearing. A grim look on his short, white and brown muzzle put ice into the pit of the coyote's stomach. His nose was huge, but it didn't make the bear look cuddly at all.

The four stopped within ten feet of each other, the sweep of wind and stray flakes filling the otherwise bleak silence. Chris felt like a huge traffic cone standing out there in the open with his orange jumpsuit on.

"Is this all you have this week?" The eight hundred pound Kodiak huffed. He seemed reserved and yet annoyed at the same time. His fur was coarse, chocolate brown with an off white underbelly. Thick, untrimmed claws dangled near his knees from the ends of meaty arms.

"Yup. Just one." The sheriff snorted inward and spat into the snow, leaving a huge wad of yellow green phlegm dripping on the sparkling white crust like a runny egg.

"Well then. Release him to me." The equine nodded to the Kodiak and then removed the coyote's shackles. Chris waited patiently until the horse removed the cuffs around his ankles and wrists, stonewalling the anticipatory grin of rebellion from his muzzle.

He bolted without warning, sprinting off towards the tree line.

A crazy smile split his muzzle as he ran hell bent through the snow, tongue flapping outside of his slack lips. Sheriffs aways fired warning shots, and he only had fifty feet to cover before hitting the tree line. He didn't even bother to look back before crashing through the wall of pine branches and racing into the depths of the sub-alpine forest. Chris made a sharp bank before ducking behind a boulder clustered on all sides by white pine. As the coyote's chest huffed trying to catch his breath, he listened for the chase most certain to follow, ears perked with the promise of a new game.

The smile ran from his gaunt muzzle in disappointment when no sounds of pursuit came. He waited for a few more minutes until the sound of the bus's diesel engine fire up, then drove off. Chris raked his sharp claws against the granite boulder before loping off.

Why did they just let him go? His jumpsuit made it easy for them to spot him. All they had to do was follow his tracks. Any moron could do that.

He trotted up the deep snow for a while until his hind feet got cold. The thin high altitude air refused to catch in his burning lungs. While he jumped up on a rocky outcropping to rest and get his bearings, he tried to decided how best to get down the mountain. The coyote sat for a long while and huddled himself against the unsheltered wind.

A slight purple hue touched the western overcast sky. Only then did the coyote realize that dusk approached. It'd hit well below zero before the sun came up, and it looked like it was going to snow again soon. He'd freeze to death long before making down the mountain. He hesitated a few more minutes before realizing the first stars poked through the purple curtain overhead. Nightfall apparently came fast up here.

The coyote cursed his unprepared self. His species was supposed to be all about survival. And now he was going to freeze to death up here because he wanted to play a childish game of hide and seek with law enforcement. Chris sighed and crept back the way he came, following his own tracks back to the cabin. Once to the clearing he poked his head out of the thick cover of pine branches.

No one was there.

The coyote bit his lower lip before sneaking up to the broken down cabin in all his traffic cone glory. He peeked though a dusty window and saw the bear sitting at a broken kitchenette table, craving some wood by the light of a kerosene lantern. Chris shivered and he wrapped his arms around himself to trap what little heat his thin jumpsuit offered. His hot breath billowed out of his muzzle and into the boreal night, snaking its way up to the emerging full moon above.

After a few minutes Chris stowed his overblown sense of pride and went inside. The bear didn't even turn to the squeak and bang of the outside screen door. He seemed preoccupied with the wood in his claws.

"Welcome back." The Kodiak continued to carve what looked to be a miniature totem pole. "Your room is the one on the left. There's an outhouse in the back in case you missed it on your walkabout."

"I could have frozen out there ass hat. Why didn't you come look for me?" Chris's teeth chattered as he stood there shivering in the doorway. The bear gave him a sideways glance but didn't answer him. Instead he turned off the lantern and went to bed, leaving the coyote to stand there like an idiot.

Chris flung some choice insults under his breath before stumbling in the dark to his room. Inside he crashed about looking for a bed. Instead he found some boards over in the corner, two worn sheets, and a bundle of hay. Some light from the full moon filtered in from his only window, and after Chris knelt to inspect the hay bundle, noticed a crude wooden hammer, a spool of thread, and some odd pegs laying near it.

What is this a storage room? he asked himself.

He slipped back out into the hallway and poked about its closet in the dark for any spare blankets. His fumbling blind paw wrapped around fishing pole and a few other odds and ends, but no blankets. Annoyed the coyote slipped back into his room and tore apart the hay bundle on the floor near the boards. Chris nestled up into the pile but barked when something pricked him. He flung the needle away with a snarl and went to bed, shivering throughout the frigid night.

* * * * *

The next morning the unrested coyote stumbled into the kitchenette, the ball of ice that was his stomach growling angrily. The bear was back at the table, drinking coffee and reading a week old newspaper. Chris looked around, but didn't see breakfast. All he saw were the remains of a small fire smoldering underneath a coffee tin in the fireplace.

"Good morning." The bear offered, but didn't look up. Chris shuffled over the to cabinets and rummaged through them, but found only expired MRE's, a bag of flour, and some boxes of powered milk. The icebox was empty. The bear turned a page, unconcerned with the scrounging yote.

"Where the fuck is the bacon and eggs? You gotta at least have pop tarts!" Chris growled, clutching the black hole formerly known as his stomach.

"We don't get supplies until the middle of the week." He answered with little empathy.

"Well thats just great! What the hell am I supposed to eat?" Chris almost threw a small tantrum right then and there. At least the guards were obligated to have a plate ready for him by now. The bear but down his paper at the coyote's words and crossed one tree trunk of a leg over another. He studied the canid a moment before raking his claws through the fur of his chubby cheek.

"There's a stream just down the mountain. Go fish."

"There's no fire to cook it with, numb nuts! You expect me to eat it raw?" The coyote jumped up and down, livid.

"There's a wood pile out back. Split some."

"Are you crazy? Its eight in the morning and about twenty degrees out there! I'll freeze my balls off in this outfit!"

"There's a closet in your room. Put something warm on."

The bear maintained an even voice throughout. Chris just clenched his paws and stormed back into his room. He tore through his closet but none of the flannel was his perfect size. He suspected it was that way for all the possible range of prisoners that filtered through here. After finding nothing that really fit his style he walked out of the cabin to the back. Sure enough he found an ax buried in a stump near a wood pile.

After several goes at it Chris felt the rough wooden handle of the ax begin to blister his smooth paw pads. Each time he brought an ineffectual chop down the axe twisted in his loose grip and deflected off the log. The muscles in his shoulders and back burned from wasting away in jail for so often. He started swinging the ax around in rage, before planting the sharp blade into the dirt in childish frustration. Only then did it dawn on him that he had a lethal weapon in his paws.

He pulled it out of the ground and stalked back to the cabin. The bear looked up from his wood carving again to see Chris enter back in brandishing an ax. A crazy, cocky smile split the coyote's muzzle.

"That's right bitch. Hereeesss ... Johnny!" Chris sneered before laughing with maniac theatrics. The bear just put down his knife, then his craft, and calmly got out of his chair even and the coyote shambled towards him.

"Not so smug now? Huh? Huh!" Chris laughed, bringing the heavy ax halfway up in his loose grip. He sang the odd verse of a long forgotten metal thrash. "Not by the hair of my chinny chin ..."

The bear smacked the ax out of his unprepared paws like it was a child's plaything. An instant later the other mammoth paw wrapped around the coyote's scrawny neck. Chris barely managed a surprised Urke! before being lifted off his hind feet like a rag doll. The claws around his neck tightened, cutting off his airway with a strangling sputter. His legs kicked nothing but empty air.

Without warning the bear brought him up then slammed him down neck first into the wooden floor. It felt like someone had taken the edge of a 2x4 and whacked Chris across the back of his brain stem. Had he not been stunned and half conscious, the wave of nausea would have probably made him wretch. The coyote screamed when eight hundred pounds of Kodiak knelt on his arms.

"What the fuck!" Chris thrashed, legs kicking futility. "You can't do this!" His hind claws scrambled for purchase under the unmovable bulk of the Kodiak kneeling on him. A heavy paw smacked the coyote's snout to the side with a pathetic yelp. An explosion of stars swam around Chris's head.

"Shut up." The bear said. He waited a moment to see what the coyote was going to do. Once his head cleared, Chris snapped at the space between them, foaming at the jaws.

"I'm going to sue your ass! You can't hit a prisone ...!" The bear's paw clamped around his muzzle and cut the yammering off. The coyote still kicked under him, forcing the bear to take more punitive measures.

He unzipped his fly.

Chris's eyes widened. In the absolute silence of the remote wilderness, the zip of metal teeth sounded like the crack of lightning in an empty auditorium. The coyote's black tipped ears flattened when the ursine's paw pulled out his heavy sheath and tapped it against his nose. Its heavy, musky scent sent Chris into hypnosis.

"Now." The bear said with a few more taps. "We can do this the hard way. Or the easy way." Through his paws the bear felt the coyote bear his sharp teeth. He shrugged. "The hard way then."

He lifted Chris's head up by his muzzle then jack knifed the coyote's skull back into the floor.

After the wave of black lifted, Chris blinked up at the ceiling just out of focus. Somewhere in the distance, he thought he heard the thick sound of fapping. His shoulders screamed when the coyote tried to move his unfeeling arms. Chris blinked and brought the fuzzy world back in focus.

A huge pink Kodiak cock bobbed between his eyes, the bear's meaty paw wrapped around it and beating the slick flesh to full attention. It was huge, at least seven inches and really thick at its base. A few throbbing veins pulsed as the bear jerked himself off with labored grunts. He was really getting into this, the sick fuck.

This can't be happening, Chris's mind screamed at itself, I'm still asleep awaiting my trial. Maybe the docs cooked up some new cocktail and I'm on the trailing end of its side effects ... A small spurt of pre dripped onto his furry forehead. It sure felt real.

The coyote tried to plead now, his mind fumbling for any way out of this surreal situation. Too bad the bear held his crafty tongue clamped shut. There'd be no talking his way out of this. No legal loop holes. No final appeals.

"Hmmpphh! Nnnprr!" Chris struggled, the backs of his heels drumming on the rough, weather beaten floor. It was quite pathetic really.

The bear's chest heaved in and out now, short puffs flaring his huge ursine nostrils. His rounded belly rolled with each massive stroke. It was almost hypnotic the way his cock head slipped in and out from between his intertwined claws. When his wide hips started rocking, knees cutting off the circulation to his arms even more, Chris knew the bear drew close to blowing his load.

"Ugh ... ugh ... who is the bitch now huh?" The bear grunted above him, more spurts hitting the coyote in the eye. It burned like a mother fucker. That dick turned an angry shade of red now, pistoned between a clenched fist. Chris couldn't believe the bear was this close already. Maybe up here, all alone, isolation had taken its toll with sexual frustration. There was a lot of possible maybes, but only one certainty.

And that certainty was about to hit the coyote right between the eyes any moment now.

Chris's green eyes widened as the bear snorted. His cock head flared. The next moment a gout of white spunk went splickety splat all over his forehead. The next spurt went wide and shot across his right cheek. Chris froze at the indignity, feeling the sticky goo slide down his facial fur. But at least the humiliation was over now. As if in rebuttal the Kodiak arched his back, shaking the flimsy cabin walls with a guttural ursine roar.

He hadn't even came yet.

The next thing Chris knew a splash of white covered his entire face. He couldn't believe someone's balls could hold that much cum. His eyes felt like they were on fire, his tiny canid nostrils clogged with bear seed now. The cum splattered coyote writhed under the torrent even as another shot hit him again, this time coating his black tipped ears.

Sensing the small canid pinned underneath him struggle to breath, the bear took the opportunity to squeeze his twitching cock and held back the third gush. He released his iron grip on the coyote's muzzle and waited for him to open it in the inevitable inhale. Chris drew in a deep breath, but not before the bear shoved his tip down near the cum drenched, gaping maw and let go with his final spurt.

It shot right across the coyote's tongue, rolling down both sides of Chris's lower jaw.

It pleased the bear to see the coyote swallow the last of his salty load and lick his black muzzle lips clean. He stroked more out of his softening cock as a test. Despite the rough treatment the coyote opened his muzzle again, letting the last drops of the bear's climax drip onto his eager tongue.

The bear got up off the yote and Chris had just enough time to wipe the stinging semen out of his eyes before being hauled back off his hind feet again by the front of his jumpsuit. In one last act of futille defiance, Chris kicked at the bear's dangling meat. Too little and off target, the Kodiak shook the yote hard, rattling him about.

"You know what would look better on your nose than my spooge?" The towering Kodiak asked, giving a wicked grin.

"Wh ... what?" Chris stammered, lines of sticky cum dripping off his muzzle to the dirty wooden floor six feet down.

"The wall!" He snapped back, hurling the flailing canid face first into the wall.

The entire cabin wall shuddered from the impact, and the coyote bounced back acme style off to land on the floor with a hard thud. The last thing Chris saw was a tilted view of the bear's huge feet over by his black nose. He attempted to lift his swirling head off the floor but his body felt differently about the whole affair. He collapsed into limp heap, leaving the conscious world behind with little more than a cum stained facial imprint on the wall to show for it.

But at least the messy visage smiled. Overall, the first twelve hours of Chris's rehabilitation went rather well.

Only one hundred and sixty seven more to go!

~ Fin Part I~

Consider this my own personal treat. Ive got something else in the works, much on a much grander scale, but its always fun to dabble in something so delightfully low brow and kink filled now and again. Even if my kinks aren't all that common. *Grins*