Nicolae and the Moxie Kid: Special Edition

Story by Neptune on SoFurry

, , , , , ,


Well, this is what everyone has been waiting for: The Special Edition of Nicolae and the Moxie Kid. The plot is a bit different than before and there are 5 yiffy parts covering 22 pages. I may add that this is a sad story. You will find out as you read along. Oh, and I also found out that is isn't written in second person. Sorry abotu that.

Warning! If you are not at least 18 years old you should not be reading this! Also, as a side note, just becuase I write about such things does not mean that I apporve of them in real life!

[insert something funny here]

============================

Nickolae and the Moxie Kid: Special Edition

By. Neptune Wolf

1-4-05

============================

"Blame is the play-thing of children and is given to many like a gift that cannot be returned. Acceptance is the tool of the mature that is rarely loaned out."

~Neptune Wolf

Marcellas closed his eyes tight and silently made a wish at the end of the Happy Birthday song. He inhaled deeply and blew out the nine candles on the white frosted cake with his name written in blue frosting. All of us at the big picnic table in the backyard cheered and clapped for him. Mr. Moxie, Marcellas' father, took several pictures with his new digital camera. Mrs. Moxie, the one with the sharp, mirror finished knife in her long nimble fingers cut the cake while at the same time posing for her husband. The first piece of the vanilla/chocolate marbled cake went to the birthday boy. I had the next piece. The other 7 or 8 young guest waited patiently.

"Move in closer, Nick!" Marcellas' father said to me. The large wolf had on a light-blue dress-shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Nick was short for Nicolae, my full first name. I moved in closer to Marcellas and smiled big for the camera. His warm, grey and white fur brushed against my nose on purpose which made me smile even more, trying to laugh and keep still for the picture. I batted the black tip of my tail against Marcellas' left arm and he was laughing along with me. We both said "Cheese" in unison and right after the picture was taken, I got a glob of white frosting on my nose from the wolf next to me. I laughed even more and put an ice cube down the collar of his red, cotton shirt. Marcellas' ears perked up higher than usual and his eyes went wide as he made a high pitched "Yelp". Mrs. Moxie smirked and shook her head at us from the other side of the table still passing out slices of the birthday cake.

It was a warm May day. With the steady, pleasant wind keeping the humidity down a few notches, we could hear the leaves of all the trees rustle in The Moxie's orchard. It sounded like crashing waves on the beach when the winds would occasionally gust. There was something vibrant about the Moxie's property. The grass seemed greener, the trees seemed taller, their yard was much bigger than mine, and even the bricks of their three story house seemed . . . well, brickier. Maybe it was their deep read color that was offset by the green grass and other shrubs and vegetation around the house. That was one thing I really liked about going to the Moxie's house. They had everything; a big house, a big backyard, a pool, and even a movie theater. I knew Marcellas for as far back as I could remember. We are the best of friends and we do everything together, no matter what. His parents said I could spend the night over at their house tonight. His parent's said they had something special for me. I couldn't help but ask what it was but they said it was a surprise. I day dreamed about what it could be . . .

"Nick! Nick!" I snapped out of it when I noticed Marcellas was calling me and tapping me on the shoulders.

"What?" I said with a smile. Everyone was getting up from the table, done with their cake and ice cream and heading inside the large brick house talking and laughing.

"It's time for the presents I hope you got me something good for me." He said with a raised eyebrow. I pushed him a little for doubting my gift and he laughed and pounced onto me. I fell backwards out of the beige metal folding chair into the lush green grass with the slightly older wolf on top of me; a paw on each one of my shoulders. I pushed him off and reversed it.

"You know I got you something you'd like." I said confidently. I got up and brushed my vibrant red and white fur off. Marcellas pounced agin and pinned me to the ground, a little harder this time, but still playfully.

"It better be!" He chuckled and let me free. Marcellas ran towards the house. "Come on, Fox! You'll miss it!" He taunted, running backwards. I chased after him and we raced to the door.

We both made it there at the same time, a tie, and we were stopped upon entering by Mr. Moxie.

"Behave boys." The tall wolf with a swimmer's build said. "Now come on in and go in the living room. You grandparents, aunts, and uncles are waiting." We both walked into the living room and Marcellas took a seat on the couch next to his mother. The living room was one of the largest I had seen in my life. Even though I frequently came to Marcellas' house, I was always in awe at how big the house was for just three people.

"This first gift is from Nick." Mrs. Moxie said while wiping her son's fur clean of the grass and dirt from outside. It was a medium sized box with shiny, blue, aluminum foil-like paper over it with a big white bow on top. Marcellas smiled at me and I sheepishly smiled back. I really wanted him to like my gift more than any other gift there. The young wolf looked at his reflection in the blue wrapping paper before ripping it to shreds. Underneath the wrapping was a plain brown box. The wolf carefully opened the box at the seams and reached inside. There was a lot of paper in the box for protection of the precious gift, but under it all was an old set of bike handle bars and an even older pulley that was cleaned off the best I could. The birthday boy smiled as wide as he could.

"Oh My goodness! It's exactly what I wanted!" Marcellas exclaimed.

"What?!?" Mrs. Moxie said not believing her ears. James, or Mr. Moxie as we all called him, kept taking pictures.

"Me and Nick are working on a new clubhouse in the backyard and we need these parts to make the elevator work." Marcellas said.

"I got it from my father's garage." I said sheepishly, glad that he liked it. My father was a mechanic and occasionally let me roam around the junkyard.

"And who says kids today don't have an imagination? I say, back when me and James were kids, we had to make our own toys!" Mr. Moxie laughed.

"We aren't that old." He said moving his bouncy, jet black (obviously dyed from it's natural wolf-grey) hair. Uncle Clyde, which is what Marcellas called him, laughed in his full bodied voice, much more deeper than his brother's.

"Open my gift." The wolf that looked similar to James said as he passed the cub a gift in bright red paper that had a collage of birthday hats, cake, presents and confetti on it. Marcellas gave the gift the same treatment by quickly ripping the paper off. It was a new remote-controlled car, one of the new ones that had a place for your ipod in the back. I knew Marcellas didn't have an ipod so that only meant that the next gift, a small box handed to him from his father, was it. With it's wrapper on the floor and the new white ipod mini attached to his belt, the next present was passed to him.

The party guest sat around in the living room "Ooo-ing" and "Ah-ing" at the birthday boy's gifts. He got a new video game, a dirt bike, a paint set, a three thousand dollar savings bond from his grandparents, and about 5 new out-fits complete with a pair of shoes for each. I sat next to Marcellas as he opened the gifts, happy and bouncing in his seat. Everyone gave him a gift except for his parents. There were last.

"This is from the both of us son. Open it carefully now." Mr. Moxie said as he passed him a heavy present wrapped in paper that had music notes printed on it. Marcellas ripped off the paper with one claw on his left paw. It was a rectangular black leather case with metal braces on the corners. It seemed to be used or fairly old. The black leather case had a handle and two latches that were difficult to unclasp. When the cub finally got it open, both of our eyes widened. It was a golden instrument that I didn't know the name to. The wolf next to me carefully took the foreign instrument out of it's case that was made to hold it perfectly. The golden finish had a few imperfections, but nothing too noticeable. Marcellas played with it's three valves and inspected every inch of the brass wonder.

"That is my first trumpet, Marcellas. I had it since I was about your age." Mrs. Moxie said with pride.

"We also got you private lessons with Mr. Polk. He's really good! You'll love him." His father said. Both of Marcellas' parents were musicians. Every time I came over to their house, they would be practicing in the music room loft on the third-floor, leaving us alone to play outside or in the house under the maid's supervision.

"We would teach you, son, but you know we are busy and we leave for Moscow tomorrow." Mrs. Moxie said. She reached into the trumpet case and pulled out a metal mouthpiece. "I just want to hold it one more time before I give her up." She said as she took the horn from the young wolf's paws and inserted the mouthpiece. Mrs. Moxie cleared her throat and played a Bb concert below staff, then on staff, and then above staff and held it for a few seconds. Her tone coming through the high pitched brass instrument was astounding to my vulpine ears. It was at the right frequency to make my entire body tremble. The note crescendoed from a soft, almost whisper, to a comfortable and full-bodied golden tone. It felt like she was hugging me with warm arms. The female wolf, wearing a bright sun dress with exotic flowers painted in a Van Gogh style, began to play an upbeat, jazz version of Happy Birthday for her son. When she finished, everyone clapped and cheered. Mr. Moxie gave her a kiss on the cheek as she passed the horn to Marcellas.

Mr. Moxie took several more pictures of Marcellas with his new trumpet. He tried to play it a little bit, but he couldn't make a sound with it.

"Don't worry, son. It'll be as natural as breathing when you get older." Mrs. Moxie said, patting her son on the shoulder. Pretty much after that, the party was over. It had been fun; clowns, games, music, cake, ice cream, presents, but now it was the time me and Marcellas had been waiting for. When the last party guest left, the sun was starting to go down, making the sun melt from a saffron yellow to orangish red hue.

The birthday boy and I were out playing in the vast orchard while the sun went down. After we installed the pulley in our special tree house and put the bike handle bars on our paw-made go-cart, we played tag, hide-and-go-seek, and "Apple Fight" which was a game we made up. We would pick the small apples from the trees and throw them at each other until someone got tired, or hurt.

I hid behind a narrow tree catching my breath while Marcellas tried to catch me. It was starting to get dark, that hazy kind of dark that happened so gradually, your eyes grew accustomed to it. The wolf ran right passed me and I hit him in the back with the two apples I had in my paws. He ducked and laughed then ran right for me while throwing apples but his aim was horrible. Unluckily for me I tripped over a rock and fell. I quickly recovered and got back up but the wolf had caught up When the apples ran out, he pounced and pinned me to the ground for the third time that day. We landed with an "Umph" but we kept laughing. The heavier wolf had me pinned good with a paw on each of my shoulders. We were both breathing hard, our chests rising and falling with our breaths. We smelled of sweat, dirt, and apples in the hot summer night. It was quiet, except for our breathing and the chirp of crickets. The neat rows of apple, pear, and cherry trees seemed to go on forever which made me feel like I was in the middle of a forest.

Marcellas put a leg on each side of my pelvis. I was too tired to fight him off and reverse it so I lied there on the ground with him above me, panting hard. We stayed like that for a while, longer than usual. The wolf above me leaned down a little closer, almost laying on top of me, and licked my cheek. I instinctively pushed him off playfully with a newfound strength.

"What was that for?" I said with fake disgust in my young voice.

"You had a little bit of apple in your fur." He said with a smile. I smiled back. Marcellas sat next to me on his knees while I sat up, still sitting on the ground. I quickly pounced and pushed him back and put him in the same position he had me in a few seconds earlier, my smaller vulpine body over his; a paw on each shoulder and a leg on each side of him. He stared me in the eyes and I quickly leaned down, before I let myself think, and licked his cheek.

"And what was that for?" The wolf cub asked slyly.

"Same reason." I said with a laugh. He leaned up and licked my cheek again with a smile. I felt a little funny for some reason, being on top of the more powerful wolf and both our bodies rising and falling as we panted. I wanted to do something, but I didn't know what. I slowly leaned down, our hearts beat in unison, muzzle to muzzle, chest to heaving chest, almost sharing a warm inviting breath with my best friend. There was a small obstacle by the inside of my thigh. I looked down and saw that the wolf's loose pants had a tent in them, mines did too. I slowly backed off of the wolf, surprised by the reaction my body had from being close to my best friend. I sat up on my knees, which were both on either side of Marcellas who looked up at me. It was really hot, hotter than usually and I took off my shirt, exposing my soft red and creamy white fur. Marcellas did the same. His fur was the same length as mine, only completely grey.

I reached down to touch the tent in my pants. I took the button lose and unzipped the zipper, curious to see inside. My red cock bobbed in the air. I had never seen it like this! At first it scared me to see it out of it's sheath, but then Marcellas touched it. His warm paw clasp around it and simple let go. It surprised me and I jumped a little. It sent a wave of pleasure though my body like I never felt before. I clenched my teeth and even closed my eyes shut. My bushy, black tipped tail wagged back and forth like a canines.

"How does it feel?" Marcellas asked me, laughing a bit at the expression on my muzzle. I undid his blue jeans and pulled the zipper down. His was larger than mine by at least an inch and had something at the base of it, near the sheath. I looked down at mine and noticed the same thing, only smaller. My paw clasped his cock as he did mine, only I slid my paw down, exploring the length of his red member until I reached the wide thing on the base. He made the same face I did, eyes clenched shut and a wide, clenched toothed smile. His ears swivelled backwards and he started to grab paw-fulls of dirt when I gripped the large lump on his cock. I slid my paw back up, the rough black pads adding an unwanted friction that made the wolf yelp. I quickly let go and said sorry. His breaths were short and his chest was heaving up and down faster than before. My paws were wet with a warm clear fluid. I wiped it off on my creamy white chest fur and it left a sticky stain that matted my fur.

"Oh my goodness that feels so good!" Marcellas exclaimed, arching his back and sat up, still under me. "You have to feel this!" he said grasping my red cock. He started to stoke me up and down at a slow pace. His rough pads were uncomfortable at first but the pleasure overwhelmed it. It was almost unbearable, inexplicable, better than anything I had ever felt before! Nothing could top this feeling, until the young wolf have the lump at the base of my cock a nice strong squeeze. A loud, high pitched "Yiff" escaped my muzzle and a jet of watery fluid covered Marcellas' paw. I quickly covered my muzzle with both my paws, surprised by the sound that came out of my throat. Marcellas broke out laughing. His warm paw left my member.

"What was that?" he said still laughing.

"I don't know!" I said. Marcellas' laughing stopped and he wiped the warm fluid off his paw and onto cock. and grabbed my foxhood again with a smile. His paw moved faster with the aid of the clear fluid that he wiped onto my cock. More of it was coming out and it was feeling like heaven. My hips started to move uncontrollably, bucking back and fourth into my best friend's paws. I felt like my body was going to rip apart at the seams! I leaned forward, placing both paws on the ground to hold myself up, my hips still bucking as the wolf readjusted himself, leaning back on the ground completely again. My body had him pinned again and my hips would stop bucking violently into the wolf's paw. My tail tucked between my legs, tickling Marcellas' paw as I humped, occasionally spraying the clear fluid from the tip of my foxhood that made the wolf's chest fur and paw wet. That strange noise I made came again only more rapidly, then suddenly I felt light headed like I was about to black out. My body felt as thought it was son fire and about to explode.

"Mar-Marcellas!" I managed to scream out right before my body tensed and a stream of hot, creamy white liquid sprayed from my cock. I couldn't stop my hips from thrusting and the hot liquid coated my best friend's chest all the way up to his chin. It was steady flow from the tip of my foxhood and Marcellas seemed to be enjoying it as much as I was. He cock was still hard and every time my hips bucked, they brushed against his hard, dripping wolfhood.

I was completely out of breath and my arms could barely hold me up when I had finished coating his fur. The flow had finally ceased and so did my involuntary thrust. I leaned down a few inches lower until we were muzzle to muzzle, chest to heaving chest, almost sharing a breath again. I licked my best friend's muzzle like my favorite flavor of ice cream, both our cocks still as hard as ever and pressing against each other, mixing my hot, sticky cream white fluid with his thin, watery fluid. The smell of the white fluid was strong and musky to my nose, but it was an inviting smell. While licking my best friend's muzzle, we heard Mr. Moxie call us from far away.

"Come on in boys! It's almost time for dinner!" He yelled from the backyard which was farther away than we both thought. We both quickly got up. I zipped up my pants while Marcellas wiped off the sticky white fluid off of his chest and chin with leaves, no longer amused by it's warm, somewhat-thick consistency. He even seemed disgusted by it. It was a bit strange. It wasn't pee and didn't smell or look like it all and it wasn't blood. All I know is that it felt extremely good coming out.

"You ok?" I asked, putting back on my white cotton shirt.

"Yeah, it's just a bit. . . weird, what is it?" He asked?

"I don't know. It smells pretty good though." I said sniffing my paws.

"That looked like it felt Really good." He said stretching out 'really'.

"It did!" I said eagerly.

"Well you owe me one! I'm going to cover you in this white goop!" He said with a smirk, still wiping it off with the small green leaves from the apple trees. I only smiled.

The wolf cub finally got himself cleaned off and put on his shirt. I dusted off the dirt and leaves on his clothes and in his head fur since I had time to do my own.

"Come on! I'll race you to the door!" Marcellas said as he got down and touched the ground with the tips of his paws. His rump and fluffy grey tail in the air waving back and forth like a rippling flag in the wind and his knees bent. I got down next to him the same position. He counted us off and we ran for the door through a perfect row of trees that seemed like a hallway. It was further distance to the backyard than we thought. As we raced each other to door of the house, we quickly dismissed our previous position.

It was a tie again. We always seem to tie in every race we are in. It's like we're destined to tie and be stuck together in unison, neither of us declared winner.

In the dining room, the food was already set up; just a light dinner of chicken salad and paw-made iced tea. I could smell the grilled chicken when I first entered the house, out of breath and sweating. Not only was The Moxies good musicians, they were excellent chefs. Marcellas' aunts, uncles, and grandparents had left with the rest of the party guest which included the parents of the other kids, so there was only the four of us at the glass table. Before we were able to sit at the table, Mrs. Moxie made us wash our paws.

"So, how did like your gifts, Marcellas?" Mr. Moxie said then put his fork into his mouth.

"I really liked Nick's gift the best to be honest. We were looked hard for those two parts but couldn't find them. We almost decided not to include the elevator. Nick's a real lifesaver." Marcellas said. I smiled and blushed a bit.

"Well, I really hope you liked my gift as well." Crystal, Mrs. Moxie, said.

"Oh yeah! I really loved it Ma. I hear you guys playing all the time and I would really like to learn how to play as well as you."

"Speaking of that, we have a gift for you too, Nicolae." Mr. Moxie said as he got up from the table and went in to the living room. My black-tipped ears perked up when I smiled. He came back with a similar black leather case. Mr. Moxie came over to where I was sitting, next to Marcellas, and opened it for me. It was a trumpet similar to the one Marcellas received.

"This is My first trumpet I got when I was about your age. Me and Crystal got you private lessons with Marcellas in a small group session with Mr. Polk." he said with such pride. " I am honored to give you this horn and I can think of no one better than my son's best friend to give it to."

I felt so surprised to hear that from Marcellas' father. I always felt welcome in their home, but right now . . . I felt like a part of their family.

"Thank you!" was all I was able to say to go along with my huge, toothy smile to show my intense appreciation to the Moxie family. I would have never gotten anything like this from my father. We barely have a roof over our heads and when my father's not drinking or hitting me, he's hanging out with his other greasy mechanic buddies from work, drinking and smoking. I felt more at home here than anywhere else in the world. "Thank you." I said again, holding the brass trumpet in my paws, playing with its valves.

After dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Moxie told us not to stay up to late, even though we were out of school for over a week already. She didn't set a specific time to be to bed since it was Marcellas' birthday. It was after 8pm and me and Marcellas choose a movie to watch in the theater in the basement, next to the weight room. We popped popcorn and got a bottle of Sprite from the fridge by the theater. We chose a movie called "Gladiator", a movie both our parents wouldn't allow us to see unless it was our birthday.

We sat next to each other on the couch seats in the dark theater. The 97- inch projection screen showed the beginning credits of the graphic movie. "We're big boys, we can handle it!" I said to myself, but by the time the first head came off, me and Marcellas were huddled next to each other on the couch with our arms around each other in the darkness. Mrs. Moxie didn't like it when we put our foot paws on the couch but we did it anyway. The couch acted as our fortress. Marcellas pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and we both got under it with our legs folded. Our eyes were fixated on the screen, but my mind was somewhere else as I reached a paw over to the slightly older wolf and rubbed his left thigh. He jumped a little but then caught on with a giggle.

We both took off our shirts and simple threw them to the floor. Next were the pants and underwear. This time, Marcellas pinned me down, his warm, rich grey-furred naked body pressing down on mine to give the side of my muzzle a lick. I licked his cold nose back he whispered in my ear,

"I want you to do the same thing I did for you." He then licked my muzzle and whiskers again. He got up a little so I could position my paw around his sheath, which I immediately noticed was wider than mine. The tapered red tip stuck out like the cherry on top of a Sunday. I wondered if it tasted like one as I began to stroke to the wolf's thickening white sheath. His breaths were getting shorter and his chest was heaving up and down. Marcellas' warm breath hitting my face reminded me of the orchard and my sheath thickened even more. The wolf was looking straight down at me but his mind was somewhere else, someplace wonderful I could tell.

"It feels good doesn't it?" I said while keeping my strokes at a good pace, forcing the sheath down to let the red meat out. It slipped out with a slurp and I quickly put it in my right paw. The lump at the base of cock was thick enough to sheep the sheath down.

"Oh my goodness! You didn't say it felt this good! Go harder! Harder!" he yelled in the excitement. The surround sound in the theater covered up any sound we made. The clashing of swords and shields, the cheering crowd, the roaring lions, spilling blood, carnage, and cheering Roman crowd couldn't get out attention away from each other. The thin, watery fluid flowed freely from the wolf above me. There was a lot more of the fluid than before. It soaked my creamy white chest fur and paws in almost no time. There was almost a squish sound every time I went back or forth. He was practically leaning on me as I stroked his slick red cock which was aimed right at my own. Mine had come out of it's sheath and was bobbing int eh air. It's tapered tip shot a small jet of the watery liquid onto the back of my paw.

The wolf's breathing was hard and fast. He began to hump into my paw as I did to him earlier. His grey tail was erect and the couch shook with every slick thrust into my paw. I managed to grip the lump each time he pushed down into my paw, making him groan and pant harder. His eyes were shut tight. The blanket over us amplified the heat from our warm breaths making it as hot as it was outside even though the air conditioning was on full blast.

"I-it feels like I'm going to explode!" The wolf yelled as his thighs humped harder into the tight, yet slick grip of my paws. The lump at the base slipped in and out of my grip and every time it slipped into the ring I made with my fingers, his cock would dip low enough to touch my stomach, soaking it with the thing fluid. I could feel his ball sac slap against my cock with every thrust, rubbing it, caressing it with the thin light grey pubic furs. It was enough to make my hips start to buck along with his.

Before long, Marcellas erupted into a fountain of sticky white fluid. It was a lot more than mines was but not as thick. It coated my chest and ran down the sides onto the French-Vanilla-colored leather couch. He howled as loud as he could but it was at the same time a gladiator battle was going on on the huge screen. His howl was muffled by the thick walls of the basement and loud movie. He pumped as hard as he could a few more times, my paws milking every drop of the musky fluid onto my cock, balls, and chest fur. It came out forcefully, like a torrent from a water gun. I thought he was peeing at first but it was the hot, sticky, white liquid soaking my fur.

Without being touched, my involuntary thrusting against Marcellas' swaying ball sac caused me to erupt at the same time my best friend did, coating his balls and cock with my white liquid. It wasn't as much or as thick as the last time, but it felt just as good.

We were both panting hard, our chest heaving as if we had run 100 miles without stopping. The wolf cub collapsed on top of me right after I removed my paw from his cock after it had finished jolting. Then wolf had lost consciousness, his head against mine. Before he was completely out, he licked the side of my muzzle again. I fell asleep soon after.

We stayed together on the leather couch until the end of the movie. We barely understood what was happening during the movie. We knew nothing about Roman History, the complexities of master-slave relations, or Gladiatorial honor.

The movie cut off by itself at the end. It was pushing 10:30. The wolf and woke up when the house lights came on. We tried to move but we were stuck together. The white fluid was like glue. We carefully pulled off of each other with an 'Ouch' as our fur was pulled. Even our sheaths were stuck together.

I stood up and stretched. It was time for us to go upstairs and take a shower. The sticky white liquid that came from My best friend's cock had formed a crust on my fur and on my paws that looked like the glaze on a day-old Crispy Cream donut. I licked a little of with that in mind. It tasted nothing like the sugar on the donut. It was a lot more salty and had a tang to it. It wasn't a taste I particularly liked, but I took another lap at the crust on my black-furred paw out of curiosity. It wasn't pee and it wasn't blood. It had to be my best friend's soul in that white liquid. That was probably why it feels so good coming out. It was a portion of his essence. I licked more and more of it off of my paw.

"What are you doing?" Marcellas asked while putting on his white underwear.

"It's part of your soul, your essence."

"What"

I told him my essence theory and he smiled. The 9-year-old wolf padded closer to me and licked my paw.

"Not bad, but we have to get upstairs before my mom freaks." the grey-furred cub said. We quickly got dressed and cleaned up our mess we made under the blanket.

We marched up to the bathroom on the second floor of the house and on the way we passed his parents on the couch in the dimly lit den huddled together as we were, only they were still sleep. The both of us hopped into the warm shower water after we took off our clothes again. We bathed each other in the soapy water with the same rag, each making a great effort to touch the other's sheath. When we were done and clean, both of us were as hard as before. We laughed and stroked each other, for the third time, while standing up in the shower. The steam made the scents coming from out crotches loud. It made us even more yiffy. I pumped into his paw and he pumped into mine. It was good partnership. We had to clean each other off again after we erupted again all over each other's paws. The warm water dripping down to my exposed cock felt so good. It was as if Marcellas was spraying his essence over my entire body.

We dried of in the tall fur driers in the bathroom, which was a rare luxury for me. Our clothes had some of the crust from the white liquid on them so we just quickly ran naked to Marcellas' room which was only down the hall. We went in and headed straight for the bed. We both got into the large, full-sized bed in the Cowboy theme bedroom and told ghost stories until we both fell asleep after about an hour. We could have easily went for another round.

* * *

The next morning, we headed down for breakfast after we got dressed. Marcellas loaned me some clean clothes to wear. Mr. and Mrs. Moxie were cooking banana-nut pancakes, sausage, eggs, and paw-squeezed orange juice. We talked about their trip to Moscow, Russia that they were leaving on that night as we at the glass table.

"We are playing at a really nice opera house in Moscow for a group of rich oil barons and other billionaires. We each have our own trumpet solo, then we are playing Bach's Brandenburg Concertos with the Russian Philharmonic. It's going to be so great!" Mrs. Moxie said. This had been their third trip to Russia this year. They were going to be there for an entire week and they hired a babysitter to stay and watch Marcellas. "You can stay here if you like, Nick. Marcellas might need the company." I more than eagerly accepted the offer. There was no need to call my father about it. He wouldn't care either way, but if I stayed with the Moxies there would be one less thing to worry about. . . for the both of us.

"You private lessons start today in a little while. I bet you two are so exited" Mr. Moxie said. We both smiled wide.

After breakfast, we all got into Mrs. Moxie's new, dark green Mercedes E-Class. Mr. Polk was this great brass player who was in Mr. and Mrs. Moxies jazz ensemble. He gave his private group lessons at his house, which was a brick manor a little more than a mile away. Marcellas' parents walked us inside and signed some papers. They talked with Mr. Polk, a 27 year old Husky, for a while and left us to wander around the first floor of the house. He had all types of awards, medals and certificates throughout the house. Marcellas' parents told Mr. Polk about their situation, leaving to Russia in only a few short hours. He agreed to take us both home after today's lesson and to pick us up and drop us off for now own every other day during the summer. Apparently, The Moxies knew and trusted Mr. Polk very well.

Marcellas' parents hugged and kissed us goodbye and told us how to contact them if we needed them. They left us with him and we immediately started to work. We were guided to the music room by the athletically built husky. He cold sense our discomfort by the way we lagged behind. He playfully got low tot he ground, as if ready to pounce as we stood before the third floor staircase. "Come on! I'll race you guys upstairs!" The Husky said in a peppy voice. Me and Marcellas got in line with him and he counted to three and we all raced up the stairs. I could tell he was letting us win, but it was still a tie; me and Marcellas.

The other three students were already there; another male wolf, a female hyena, and a male Manx; all of which were about our age, which made me feel a bit more comfortable. During our first lesson in a lofty room on the third floor of Mr. Polk's house, we introduced each other and learned how to make a sound on the trumpet. The other three students were Jack, Toya, and Martin, respectfully.

"You have to put your lips together as if you were whistling, then . . .well . . . whistle." The husky said in a vibrant voice. We all tried to whistle, but non of us could.

By the end of the lesson we all learned how to whistle. Marcellas was the first and I was the last. Then with that knowledge, we made our first sound on the horn. There was a lot of brassy, jumbled noises in the room. Mr. Polk passed out a fingering chart for the Bb trumpet to all of us. We were there for about 2 hours and it was relatively fun. Mr. Polk was a funny guy. He laughed and joked with us and we even played hide-and-go-seek in his house, which was really fun. The Husky was like a big kid. The other three students got a ride home from their parents and Mr. Polk drove us to Marcellas' house. He was given a spare key to the house and unlocked the door for us. He simply waved goodbye and drove off, but I felt as though he wanted to come inside with us.

When we walked in, lunch was ready and on the table by some fox I had never seen before. He was about 6 foot 3 and seemed about 25.

"Hi. I'm Mark, your babysitter." he said in a cheerful voice that reminded me of one of my teachers at school. His slim body had rich, red fur, black tipped ears and tail, black socks, and I could imagine from the close similarities we had that he had a white belly just like mine. He wore Mrs. Moxie's white apron over his tight-fitting light-blue jeans and white t-shirt. Me and Marcellas both laughed to ourselves. "A male babysitter?" I said to myself. I could tell the wolf was thinking the same thing by his smile.

Mark made us a lunch of grilled chicken sandwiches and grapes that was to die for. His cooking rivaled that of the Moxies, but I didn't really like the mayo and I only took one bite out of it and threw it away. It was swimming in it. Mark made me another one without mayo. It had chicken , lettuce, tomato, bacon, and bar-b-que sauce instead of mayo; Perfect. Marcellas on the other paw, loved it. When we were done eating, the little wolf had creamy white mayo on the corners of his muzzle. Mark laughed a bit.

"Let me get you cleaned up. The bathroom is upstairs, right?" Mark asked. Marcellas nodded big with a smile on his mayo-covered grey muzzle. "Yuck." I said to myself, hating the nasty sauce. "We'll be right back, Nick. This'll only take a sec." and with that, the two were bounding upstairs to the bathroom. I looked around at the fairly large kitchen. We were sitting at the island with the tall bar stools. Mark had everything as clean as usual; the floors, the counter, the stove and even the kitchen sink which was only 4 feet away from where we sat, sparkled.

I heard the shower come on upstairs. Was he that dirty? I asked myself. I slowly walked upstairs to the bathroom. I stood outside the door and put my black-tipped ear to the door. It was hard to hear over the rushing water of the shower, but I managed to make out a moan or two. I knocked at the door. The was a long wait before Mark answered.

"We'll be right out. Give us a sec, k?" I could still hear faint moaning.

"Is Marcellas ok?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'm just cleaning his dirty muzzle." The baby-sitter yelled through the door.

I went back downstairs and waited for the two to come out of the bathroom. It took about five minutes before I head the door open. The two came out and trotted down the stairs, Marcellas ahead of Mark. He was smiling as he padded over to me and asked me play with him outside. He said nothing of what happened, he seemed ok, so I didn't asked about the moaning.

* * *

The week went by rather quickly. Marcellas and I were as close as usual, playing our games in the orchard or watching tv in the house, then being picked up by Mr. Polk in the mornings and dropped off in the afternoon, coming home to a freshly cooked lunch and dinner by Mark. On the sixth music lesson, I had noticed how much better Marcellas was compared to the rest of us. Despite the fact that we were only introduced to music the black squiggly marks that Mr. Polk called 'Music', Marcellas was already reading and understanding it! I guess it was in his blood, having both parents good musicians. Mr. Polk sat next to him during the sessions and watched his every move. He was obviously his favorite out of all of us. Must be because of his natural talent. During our 10 minute break, which we had every session, Mr. Polk gave us all something to drink and let us talk amongst ourselves while he went to his office on the first floor for something. Marcellas and I would usually talk play around, but today he seemed slightly different.

"What's up?" I asked him when I sat down closer to him. The wolf cub was simply staring at the floor.

"Nothing, nothing at all." he simply said.

That night, after dinner, I went upstairs to the music room to practice by myself. I wanted to get as good as Marcellas so we could both be Mr. Polk's favorite students. Marcellas was downstairs watching TV in the den while I practiced. I wanted so bad to go downstairs with him, but I knew I had to practice as hard as I could. I warmed up by doing some push-ups. Mr. Polk said that playing an instrument is just like playing football and we started every lesson with either push-ups, jumping jack, or some other exercise. After that, we played what he called the Tuning Pitch. It was the easiest note to play since we didn't have to push down any valves. I practiced the tuning pitched and the Chromatic scale, which was just the fingering chart he gave us. I went over it then went over it again, then another time. By the time I finished practicing that night, I learned what those notes meant on the black lines on the paper.

I came downstairs with a bright smile, proud of my accomplishment. The older fox and the wolf cub were nowhere to be found. I searched the house and found them in the theater watching a movie. I only saw a few seconds of it before it cut off. It looked like a home movie of some sort. A male kangaroo, about Mark's age, was buttoning his shirt while a young wolf, a little younger than myself, sat on the bed with no pants on, sobbing as if he had gotten a spanking. Mark stood up as the house lights came on gradually. They were sitting at the same couch me and Marcellas were on his birthday. The fox turned around to see me at the doorway. He quickly put his paws in his pockets for some reason.

"Oh, hey there little buddy. I heard you practicing upstairs. You sound pretty good. Keep it up!" He said cheerfully. Marcellas was still seated. He glanced back for a second at me then quickly turned back around, facing the, now black, projection screen.

"What were you watching?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Oh, nothing, just a little home movie one of my friends sent me. I have to take it back to him tomorrow morning. Sorry you couldn't watch it. Hey, why don't you head back upstairs and I'll fix you and Marcellas a treat!" He said with a smile. I smiled as well. "Marcellas will be up in a minute." he continued.

I padded upstairs and into the kitchen. In less than three minutes, Marcellas was bounding up the stairs with a smile, his grey tail waving back and fourth. He looked fine, which made me feel a lot better. Mark was a few steps behind him. He said nothing but went over to the sink to wash his paws and had a glass of water which he gargled and spat out like mouthwash. He went over to the fridge and pulled out a box of large chocolate chip cookies and the ice cream from the freezer. Marcellas sat next to me at the large, green granite-topped island. He smiled at me then looked over at the older fox as he got a couple of saucers from the cabinet. He made us both ice cream sandwiches; mine with strawberry ice cream (my favorite) and Marcellas' with vanilla, his favorite. He sat on the other side of the island and talked to us about our favorite tv shows. Marcellas wolfed down his sandwich and politely asked to leave the table to go to bed. It was only seven at night. Mark let him leave and cleaned his saucer off in the sink. Once he left, I started to eat faster and headed upstairs with him. When I got there, he was already asleep.

* * *

I practiced intensely for a week and I had gotten a lot better. I was able to read music now and my tone was getting better. I was better than the other three students by leaps and bounds and Marcellas was leaps and bounds better than myself. Despite my great improvement from the first day, I got little or no attention from Mr. Polk. Marcellas did something new and astounding that captivated him every lesson and he didn't even practice as much as I did! I knew I was very close to being as good as the wolf, I just know it. Mr. Polk spoke with Marcellas during the ten-minute break and he spoke to Toya, the hyena, after practice. I was kind of angry because their 15 minutes of talking after practice meant less time for me to practice. This was officially a competition now between me and Marcellas. This time, there would be no tie.

At home, I saw the same treatment. Mark seemed gravitated to the slightly older wolf for some reason, maybe it was because Marcellas like his cooking more than I did, and who know what kind of fun they were having while I was in the music room for hours on end. Video games? Hide and seek? Who knows. Marcellas didn't even care to join me while practicing or invite me to play with him while I was in the music room. It was becoming my self-made prison cell.

In the next music lesson, there was one less student, Toya. Apparently she convinced her parents to take her out of the program for some reason. That meant less competition for me. Mr. Polk, with his athletic body and expensive materialistic wardrobe, asked to see Marcellas in his office, which was downstairs, during our break. I took the liberty to keep practicing during the 10 minutes break. When they got back, Marcellas seemed a little upset. For some reason, I couldn't help but hope that that effected his playing ability. He was my best friend and I wished bad luck upon him, but what did he care? He wouldn't even talk to me afterwards and when Mr. Polk dropped us off he spoke with Marcellas again. He told me to go on in the house and they would be done in a second. It wasn't fair! Why is it that only the best of the best get the most attention?

That night, I decided to spend as much time as I could practicing. That was one thing my father taught me, to never stop until I was the best. That was why my father is the best mechanic in the neighborhood, or so I was told. I hadn't seen him in a while, not even a phone call. He knew I was here, but did he care? I was to be here all summer at the Moxies house.

Mark, the babysitter, insisted that all three of us play a game of Sorry in the living room since I was upstairs practicing so much. Immediately after the game, which I lost, I went back upstairs to practice. I was getting upset by the fact that Marcellas and I never tied anymore. He was clearly better than me at everything. Mark wanted a rematch against Marcellas, but I could care less. Sorry was a boring game anyway. I could hear Mark and Marcellas talk on my way upstairs, something about playing a new game that involved potion or lotion or something like that. I couldn't hear that much when I made it up the stairs. I just wanted to practice a little more that night. I frequently slept in music room loft. I was alone up there, but I would still be alone in Marcellas' room since he started to sleep with Mark in the guest bedroom.

* * *

About a month passed. I was still Mr. Polk's second best student, only because the other two students quit or dropped out. Even when it was just us two, who lived in the same house, Mr. Polk still had private meetings with Marcellas. Why did Mr. Polk like that wolf so much anyways? What did that nine-year-old have that captivated the Husky in such a way? It had to be his talent. I had to prove him wrong! I AM as good as Marcellas!

Mr. Polk asked to speak with Marcellas during the 10 minute break which had become a daily event, but it always took like 20 or even 30 minutes for the two to get back. They left down the hall and I sat in silence, holding the trumpet given to me by the nicest parents on Earth. The Moxies had called Mark to say that they were leaving to London from Moscow and from London they were going to Sydney to promote their new album. They wouldn't be back until next week at the earliest. I looked around the near empty music room. I noticed that Marcellas took his trumpet, but left his mouthpiece. I laughed a bit to myself. I guess Mr. Perfect isn't as perfect as I thought. I walked down the hall and down the stairs to Mr. Polk's office. There was no one inside so I walked around the lifeless mansion until I thought I heard Marcellas' voice. It sounded like he was crying so I started to run. His voice led me to the second floor spare bedroom. The door was slightly open so I peeked inside.

Mr. Polk had Marcellas pinned to the bed, a paw on each shoulder and a leg on each side of his pelvis. The much older Husky licked Marcellas' cheek, just as I did on his birthday, and seemed to enjoy it just as much by the tent in his jeans. Mr. Polk whispered something to Marcellas then got off of him. The young wolf seemed to frown and got off the bed halfway and positioned himself so that he was bent over the bed. It was an odd position, but he seemed ok with it, like he did it often or something. Mr. Polk grasped the young wolf by his waist and took off the wolf cub's belt and pants and pulled them down to his ankles. But still no word from Marcellas. Mr. Polk began to take off his jeans and shirt.

"You've been such a good little wolfie so far," The Husky said caressing Marcellas' soft rump, "and now you get your reward." He took off his underwear, completely exposed to the little cub. There was something very wrong with this picture, but Marcellas had no complaints about it. He just sat as still as possible as the older Husky's dripping cock touched the wolf's tailhole. Is this how we get rewarded in band? Is this what Mr. And Mrs. Moxie mean when they say they are accepting an award? It was all so confusing! I just bust open the door and yelled,

"I want a reward too!", dropping my trumpet and Marcellas' mouthpiece to the carpeted floor.

Mr. Polk stopped abruptly what he was doing to look at me. He seemed like a deer caught in headlights. Marcellas looked over at me with fear in his eyes as Mr. Polk held him down with one paw on his back, his huge cock at the entrance to my best friend's tailhole.

"What do I have to do to get a reward?" I said naively, confused by what was going on. The scene before me reminded me of when Marcellas and I were pawing each other off.

"Close the door, sit here on the bed next to Marcellas." He said, somewhat confused himself. I guess he wasn't expecting me to demand MY reward! I felt proud of myself. I did as I was told. I guess Marcellas looked so scared because he finally had competition and had to share the Husky's attention. Mr. Polk took off my shirt and pulled down my pant while I wagged my tail like a canine. He got down on his knees and buried his muzzle into my exposed crotch, smelling and sniffing my sheath. It felt kind of weird, but good at the same time. I wandered is he wanted me to do the same to him afterwards, me and Marcellas did on his birthday.

"Today's lesson is, since you two have gotten so good, Advanced Fingering and Advanced Tonging." He said stroking my sheath up and down until a bit of red peaked from the tip. Mr. Polk licked it with his rough canine tongue as if it were an ice cream cone. My body shook in ecstacy. With each stroke of my sheath, he massaged my ball sac, sending jolts of a familiar kind of pleasure through my body. My hips started to buck, forcing my cock down the husky's eager muzzle. Mr. Polk's grey and white tail wagged as if he were a kid too. I smiled, enjoying feeling in my crotch. It felt better than Marcellas' paws. The wet warmth far surpassed the pleasure I felt back then. I was finally getting what Marcellas had been getting for all this time. Why would he keep something like this from me?

Mr. Polk took my cock out of his muzzle. It dripped the clear fluid like a faucet onto the white bedding between my bare legs, making a wet spot. He asked me to bend over the bed as Marcellas was and I obediently did as I was told. I looked over to my best friend with a smile as my head lay on the soft, Egyptian cotton bedding; my footpaws barely touched the ground. He didn't smile back. The athletically built husky was behind him stroking his own hard canine cock. It was dripping as mine was. Mr. Polk grabbed the young wolf cub by his hips and brung him closer to the tapered tip of his cock. I looked at the width of Mr. Polk's red cock and compared it to the small tailhole of my best friend. It would never fit, not in a million years, but somehow the husky forced it inside just a little bit, maybe two inches or so. Marcellas gritted his teeth. It looked painful, so I asked.

"Does it hurt, Marcellas?"

"He's ok." Mr. Polk said with a grunt and forcing the rest his red canine-hood into wolf cub. "He's used to it." he continued. Marcellas only gritted his teeth more as the rod of hot flesh entered him. Once it was in, he started panting. "See, he loves it!" Mr. Polk said with a sickly smile on his muzzle. He pulled out of the nine-year-old wolf and pushed back in slowly, making Marcellas moan and grip the sheets. He never done that when we were together.

"When do I get my turn?" I asked.

"Soon, soon. Just wait there, no better yet, keep stroking yourself. It'll be fun." The husky said pushing in and out of Marcellas' tailhole at a steady pace, making him moan and pant. I did as I was told and pawed myself off while watching the two. It gave me an odd kind of pleasure watching the thick red cock disappear into the wolf's tight tailhole. Before long, I could help myself from humping into my paw, nearing the point of no return, making that odd "Yiff" noise, when Mr. Polk stopped me. He never skipped a beat in his thrusts into my best friend as he held my chest, caressing my white and red fur. He slowly made his way down to my small cock and began pawing it himself. In only two or three strokes, I exploded all over Mr. Polk. The rope after rope of the sticky white fluid landed on the husky's arm and paw as he continued to paw at my fox-hood. It felt so great having his large paw over my cock as erupted.

Mr. Polk's thrust into the wolf cub became faster and faster and he gripped his hips with both paws, even though one was still covered in the gooey white stuff from my cock, and thrust harder and faster into him. Marcellas moaned and panted hard. All the friction from his cock rubbing against the bed must have set him off because there was a growing wet spot coming from under him. Mr. Polk howled as if her were a wolf and he thrust in one last time, the huge lump at the base of his cock didn't go in but it pressed hard against Marcellas' tailhole making him yell. I could tell Mr. Polk had erupted, which meant that all of that gooey white liquid was being pumped inside the wolf cub. It must have felt really good by the look on Marcellas' eyes. It felt so good he was almost in tears.

After a few moments of Mr. Polk being inside Marcellas, he pulled his cock out with a "Slurp" sound. It was covered in the sticky white goo and a lot of it leaked out of Marcellas' tailhole and down his legs to his pants and white underwear, which were around his ankles. The older husky came over to me with the dirty cock in his paws.

"He is your reward. Come over here and lick it up like a good boy, ok." he said while running his fingers through my headfur. He positioned his red cock in front of my muzzle and smeared a little of the creamy white stuff on my lips. "Just give it a taste." he said. I looked up at him and he smiled down at me, as if saying that everything was alright. I stuck my tongue out, reluctantly, and licked his red cock covered in the white fluid. It tasted a little like Marcellas'; the same sweet, salty, tangy mix of flavors. Mr. Polk moaned. "Ah. That's a good boy! Just lick it clean." He said, with his paw still on my head. I continued to lick it, lapping at it like an ice cream cone. As a matte of fact, an ice cream cone sound good right out then. I closed my eyes and imagined the white stuff as vanilla ice cream, only warm and sticky.

When I was done I looked over to Marcellas. He lied muzzle down on the bed. I called out to him, but he didn't answer. Mr. Polk put his underwear back on and told us that he was going to take us to get something to eat. Marcellas finally let his head up when he heard that. The Siberian Husky put on his pants and belt then his shirt. He then carefully picked Marcellas up from the bed and onto his feet and just as carefully pulled up his underwear and pants. While I proceeded to dress myself, Mr. Polk hugged the young wolf cub and gave him a deep kiss on the cheek. As I stood, I stared at the two embracing each other. When they finally let go, Marcellas asked,

"Is THIS the last time? You told me that last time was going to be the last. . . it really hurts." The 20-something year old Husky only smiled down at the wolf cub.

"But don't you want your friend here to get his full reward for being such as good little fox?" he said gesturing towards me. "I was thinking that maybe you could give him, you know, show him how good it feels to have someone inside you." The wolf cub looked at me and saw me smiling. I wanted to know how it felt. Marcellas looked down at the ground.

"But I don't want to mount Nicolae." He said simply, starting to tear up. I wondered what it meant to 'mount' someone.

"Come on Marcellas! You're my best student! I'm sure you won't have any problem doing it. I'll guide you though it! The afterwards, maybe I can take you two to the park, the one with the roller-coasters!" Mr. Polk said with the biggest smile.

"Well. . . ok. . ." Marcellas said with a sort of half grin. I smiled and padded over to my best friend and put my arm around him and asked him why did he look so sad about this 'mounting' thing. He gave no reply, just wrapped his arms around me in a hug. I would do anything to go to that new park. I'm pretty sure being 'mounting' isn't that bad. Mr. Polk look at the two of us hugging each other.

"That a boy! Now let get in the car so we can go grab some shakes and burgers!" he said while looking in hi closet for his jacket. When he got it out, we all left the bedroom and back to the music room. I put my horn back into it's used case and we left to the carport which held several expensive looking cars. The one we usually rode in was a black BMW, but today we got into a silver Range Rover. Mr. Polk put on some kind of jazz-type music and we drove off.

It was a short trip to the Steakn' Shakin' restaurant. We didn't go in, just went to the drive-thru and he ordered us a burger and a milkshake and we ate in the car in the parking lot.

The Husky drove us home in silence but before we got out of the car, he told me to be ready for my BIG reward during out next session, then he told us not to tell anyone about the rewards. He seemed kind of nervous when Mark, the fox babysitter, opened the front door and looked out at the Range Rover. Mr. Polk quickly unlocked the door and let us out. He waved to Mark before pulling off kinda quickly. We padded to the door with smiled on our muzzles.

Mark had us something to eat ready on the table, but we explained to him that we had already eaten, never mentioning the reward that Mr. Polk gave us. The fox never gave it a second thought.

That night during the beautiful reddish setting sun, as me and Marcellas sat under an apple tree in the orchard, I asked what did he think about Mr. Polk's rewards. He stared to tear up again but he still spoke.

". . . it was fun at first. I told Mr. Polk about what we did on my birthday and he said we weren't doing it right. . . so he . . .he showed me how to 'masturbate'." He brought his knees up to his chin and wrapped his bushy grey tail around him. "It felt really good so I let him paw me off. The next session, he did the same thing only he started to lick and suck at my cock. My cock was completely in his muzzle when I erupted. I think he swallowed all of the white stuff. Then in the next session . . . he . . . he mounted me." I finally asked him what it meant to be 'mounted'. "It's when he sticks his cock into your tailhole until the pees inside you. It really really hurts more than anything, but he told me that it would start to feel good after a few more times, but it never really did. I just . . . got used to it. It stopped bothering me. I guess that's what he meant." The little wolf started to cry and put his head down even further. "I just wanted him to stop, but now he wants me to mount you."

I felt ashamed of myself.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to." I said.

"But Mr. Polk will make me! He says that I will never be as good as my parents if I don't do everything he tells me."

"Well, can't we just tell someone to make him stop?"

"Mr. Polk says we will get into trouble if we tell." he said with a sniffle. "He said that my parents will hate us if we told and be mad at us for not doing what he says." He trailed off at the end. Just then, Mark yelled, telling us dinner was ready. Marcellas looked up in fear towards the backyard of the house. His look of fear was as if he had seen a ghost. The expression on his face even made me feel afraid.

"What." I asked looking in the direction he was, not seeing anything but trees and the growing darkness, then back at him.

"Mark has been mounting me every night for the past 2 weeks. My tailhole is so sore I bleed when I go to the bathroom afterwards. I can't take it anymore!" he got us and ran through the orchard away from the house. I chased after him, calling to him. We ran and ran until the orchard had run out and we were in the middle of a huge grassy field. On the other side was the forest. If Mr and Mrs. Moxie were to find out we were roaming this far from the house they would me upset. The sun had gone down no more than a few seconds later, leaving us in the dark, unfamiliar light.

I had finally caught up to the wolf cub when he stopped to catch his breath. I stopped next to him, both of us panting hard, sweating, and dirty from running through the rows of literally hundreds of apple, pear, and cherry trees that made up "Moxie Orchard". My mind was racing. Being mounted really hurt Marcellas, but at the same time it was called a 'reward'. What kind of reward hurt people? What will we do next? We can't tell anyone. We can't go home. We can't stay here. I looked up to the sky and there was a perfectly clear full moon. It sent a chill down my spine, reminding me of the werewolf movies I had heard before. The moon illuminated the field only enough for us to see each other.

I padded closer to Marcellas and wrapped my arms around him, his chest still heaving up and down as hard as it could to abstract oxygen from the air. He finally calmed down and looked straight ahead to the woods. He looked back to me in my eyes and then pushed me away violently.

"Get away from me! You are just like the rest of them, aren't you? You only want to mount me too!" he yelled while kicking and biting me. I let go confused. Mounting him wasn't even in my mind. The young wolf ran towards the forest as I yelled for him to stop and chased after him. He yelled back, "Don't come any closer Nicolae! Stay away from me! Don't touch me! It's your fault!" I stopped in my tracks when he said that. It hurt me to my very soul and I felt cold. I watched him enter the woods, never looking back. I fell to my knees and started to cry. For some reason, my best friend in the whole entire world hated me, blamed me for his pain, and left to a place where I was not allowed to follow. I cried and I cried in the green grasses of the field, until I couldn't hear his foot steps anymore.

I don't know how I got there, but I was in Marcellas' Cowboy theme bed, tucked in tight. My father was sitting in a chair on the other side of the room. His large, muscular arms crossed, looking out of the window to the backyard and the orchard. I sat up. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was drunk.

"Dad?"

"What the hell were you doing that far from the house? I'm pretty damn sure Mr. Moxie told you not to go past the Tree house! Just wait till we get home boy, I'm gone beat yo ass! You can forget about those music lessons!" The large fox said, standing up with an arm ready to strike me when Mark came in.

"Peter! What are you doing?" The younger fox said. My dad stopped what he was doing and looked over at the younger fox.

"And you! Where the hell were you when the boys were out there, huh?" he said transferring his rage to the male babysitter. My dad back-pawed slapped him to the ground. He landed hard on a few of Marcellas' toys. I winced as I watched my father kick Mark in the stomach until he spat up blood on Marcellas' carpeted floor. "Don't you ever fucking come near my son again! Yo ass can't do shit right can you! Fuckin' queer. I could tell you was gay when you called me." He gave him a strong kick to the stomach again. He then looked back over at me. "Get yo ass up! I ain't got all day for this shit." I quickly got out of the bed that Mark had tucked me in tight. I quickly noticed that I had no clothes on. While my father looked left down the hall I put on some of Marcellas' clothes and found a journal in his top dresser drawer. I took it and put it in my trumpet case and left out. My father was waiting at the front door. As soon as he opened it, a car pulled up; a green Mercedes Benz. It was Mr. And Mrs. Moxie.

"Are they ok! Is he alright? Where's Marcellas?" Mrs. Moxie said while rushing into the house, not giving my father the least bit of time to answer. Behind her was Mr. Moxie. In the car was a third person getting something out of the trunk. My father tugged at my arm and told me to come on. My father's car was parked out front, an old, red, rusted, Ford F150 with a toolbox in the back. Without saying a word we left the Moxies house. I could see the police in the rear view mirror. Apparently, Mark had called the police before my father beat him.

We drove towards the sun. It was about 10 in the morning according to the digital clock in the dashboard. When we got home, my father beat me with a length of PCP pipe for 'not listening to authority'. He didn't take me to the hospital.

* * *

It was a long time before I was able to go to the Moxies house again. Marcellas had never had returned to the house. It was about 4 months later when they found his body in the woods. He had fallen and cracked his head wide open, or so the news said. My father was sent to prison, again, for almost killing Mark and, on my very own 9th birthday, I was sent to an orphanage. The Moxies said they didn't want to adopt me because I reminded them too much of their son. At nine years old, I was a complete mess. My best, and only, friend blamed me for his pain and hated me before he died.

Years later, even to this day, I can still hear his foot steps as he ran through the woods in the night when I close my eyes. Maybe it was my fault . . .

Fin

=================

Well, that's the end. If you have any comments that you want sent directly to me, please email me at [email protected] , otherwise just post something at the bottom of this page.