"Got another one, guys. Out near mile marker 173 Westbound. Anyone free?"

"Nope, already got one hooked for that insurance job."

"Sorry, I'm on Highway Patrol duty today and they're working me like a mule."

"Hey, fuck you! I resemble that!"

"Hahhaha, get over it, Steve! It's just a saying."

"Alright, alright, settle down you chucklefucks. Seriously, is no one available?"

"Like I said, I've got one on the hook. Once I drop 'em at the shop I'll double back and give 'em a tow. Tell 'em I'll be about an hour."

"Roger that, Steve."

The tinny hold music cuts out and the cheery, husky-voiced woman comes back on the line, "Miz Jenkins? You still there? Hello?"

Snapping out of her stupor after being on hold for the past 20 minutes in the summer heat, the young dalmatian fumbles for the phone and takes it off mute, "Huh, yes! I'm still here!" "I'm hewwe toooo!" a little voice chimes in from the background. The mother raises a finger to shush her pup while she talks on speaker, "When can we expect a tow?"

"We just made arrangements, and the next available tow will be there in an hour," the voice on the other side of the line responded, already bracing for what she knew came next.

"An hour?! Are you fucking kidding me? I've got a kid and we're roasting out here! Can't you get someone out here sooner?"

"Sorry, ma'am, but the heat's caused a lot of strain on people's vehicles. This was the fifth tow company we tried to contact, and the first to even give us a wait time. We appreciate your patience, as help is on the way."

Throwing her hands up in the air and letting them fall to her sides in defeat, the canine slouched forward and let her forehead rest against the top of the steering wheel, "Fiiiine."

The saccharine voice chimed in, "Thank you for choosing Al-" but the mother hit the End Call button before the insurance rep could finish her spiel. Hitting her head against the horn and her fists against the dash, she yells, "dammit.. dammit, DAMMIT! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!" 

"Dammit!" the little boy mimics from the car seat, giggling and pounding the padded bar keeping him secure as he repeats the new word again and again.

"No no no, sweetie. That's Mommy's word! You can't have that word til you're older."
*******
"Roger that, Steve."

"Heh...jackpot," the scruffy, middle-aged kangaroo said as he adjusted himself in his cum-stained boxers. "Looks like it's time to get to work." His dogs look up from the floor as he takes one last drag off the stub of cigar before mashing it into the ashtray shaped like a cartoonishly large woman's rack and getting to his feet. 

He pulls his coveralls off the kitchen table and slides them on, pushing his thick tail through first, followed by his legs, and then zips them over his beer gut, and finishes it off with a hat that says "MILF Hunter" across the front. Grabbing a couple of bottles of Gator Sweat from the fridge and some pills from the cabinet, he makes his way out the door.

Waiting outside was his pride n joy: an old tow truck he won in a drunken bet years ago. The keys already in the ignition, the chunky roo tosses the bottles in the passenger seat, climbs in, and fires it up, coveralls tented up in anticipation.
*******
The minutes seemed to drag on as the young mother tried her best to keep her pup from fidgeting. It had already been about half an hour and not a single car had passed by on that lonely stretch of road. The sun beat down on the car, and the only saving grace was an occasional puff of breeze through the open windows.

Seemingly out of nowhere, she saw an outline of a vehicle rise out of the pavement in the oncoming lanes. Her brows and ears perked as she noticed the emergency lights on top come on and it slowed down to cross the meridian. They got here early! "Help is here, baby!" Her little boy gave a tired cheer, raising his little hands in the air.

He sized up the car as he pulled around behind, counting the passengers. Two: a young cunt and her crotch dropping. Easy picking. He opened the bottles of sports drink and tossed a pill into each one, closing them tightly and shaking them up to help dissolve his dirty little trick before taking one in each hand and stepping out onto the shoulder of the road.

"Woo-ee, it'sa hot one out, ain't it?" he exclaims as he struts over to the open window on the passenger side, keeping his fat ass and tail out of traffic. "Brought'cha something to help cool ya off. Sorry bout the wait." He clicks his claws together as he twists the cap, offering a bottle to the young mother, and then faking surprise as he looks in the back. "Well lookie here! Got a big man in the back who's lookin mighty thirsty, too! Good thing I brought a spare," he smiles wide with his nicotine-stained grin.

The dalmatian woman gives an exhausted smile, looking at her savior and making note of the embroidered chest patch on his coveralls, the only clean spot on the roo's uniform, "No worries on the wait, Gus. You got here in half the time that bitch at the insurance company told us!" She gladly accepts the drink, wasting no time in chugging half of it down and then accepting the second bottle that Gus opens, giving it to her son. He sips at it with messy glee, the blue flavor being his favorite. "Tankoo mista woo!'

With an even wider smile, Gus nods at the tyke, "You're very welcome!" Looking back at the mom, he motions with a thumb back to his truck, "You can ride up front if you want. The AC's on 'n you can play with the radio if ya like. It'll take me a few minutes to getcha hooked up 'n we'll be on our way."

The young mother smiles and wastes no time in getting out of the hot car, grabbing her son, car seat and all, and carrying him into the cab of the tow truck. She shivers in delight as the door swings open, greeting her with a frosty blast of air conditioning...her own little piece of the Arctic in this asphalt desert. After getting her pup settled in, she tinkers with the radio until she finds the pop station and relaxes while the roo tinkers with the hook on the back of the truck, relaxing more and more as she drains the bottle in her hands and looks at Z on her phone.

Taking his time in getting the car hooked and raised, the very erect marsupial pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks the time. Ten minutes, should be long enough. He hoists the car by the back axle and throws the car in neutral before making his way back to the cab. <i>The bitch and her kid are both zonked...good.</i> He opens the door and climbs in, switching off his emergency lights as he merges back onto the highway, turning off onto exit 173 as he makes his way back home. Along the way, he grabs the sleeping mother's phone out of her lap and snaps it over his knee before tossing it out the window into the ditch. Further down the road and off the beaten path he ditches the car off his hook.

After another half hour of driving, he finally pulls into the drive and kills the engine. The dogs bark with excitement at Gus' arrival, only to be greeted with a 'Shaddaaaaap!' in return. He walks over and flings the heavy storm cellar door open, descending into it just far enough to flick the lights on before coming back up to the truck. He slings the woman over his shoulder like a sack of feed and carts her down into the shelter, chaining her to the wall with some shackles he picked up online at one of those bondage shops. Afterward, he grabs the kid and ties him to the table across from his mom with some adjustable cuffs. <i>Now all that's left is to wait!</i> Gus flicks the light off and struts up the stairs, his tail thumping with excitement as he swings the door closed, its rusty hinges protesting with a loud squeal before the weight of the door slams it shut. He pulls a padlock out of his pocket and secures the door, heading back to the house to stuff his face.
*******
The woman's ears begin to twitch as she hears sobbing. Slowly, she tries to open her eyes, only to be greeted by more darkness. "Zack, it's gonna be okay, baby. Mommy's here." A lie. Not just for his sake, but hers as well. An icy chill runs down her spine as she tries to move and is greeted by resistance and the sound of chains. Not enough slack to reach her baby, but enough to faceplant into the dirt floor.

"Mommy, I'm scawwed! Where are yoo? I can't moooove!" Zack thumps around in the dark atop the table, his little elbows bumping against the hard surface. He starts bawling, unsure of what else to do in the circumstances as his mother tries to calm him down, afraid of what the extra noise will bring. She tries to recall how they got into this mess, but everything after the car broke down is a blur, and her head is pounding.
*******
Back down to his underwear, Gus cackles at the evening sitcoms, beer in one hand and cheap cigar in the other. As the 9 o'clock news comes on, he finishes his beer and tosses the can in the corner with the others. <i>Should be awake by now.</i> Grabbing his keys, he makes his way outside into the fading sunset, his large ears perked at his favorite kind of music coming from the cellar. The tapered, pink tip of his cock pokes out of his fly into the evening air, dripping onto the dirt as he unlocks the padlock and hefts the door open, grinning as he hears the noises stop, trying to hide from him as he descends. Step. By. Step. The cherry from his cigar the only thing illuminating his path down into the darkness. This is his favorite part.
********
Her ears perk as she hears noise coming from above, shushing her pup with great urgency as her panic starts to rise. They both tremble in terror as something rusty groans, letting a small orange glow engulfed by a large shadow into view as it blocks the night sky. The figure plods down one step at a time, drawing out the tension to a point where Zack can't take it anymore and he screams. This only serves to amuse the shadow as the glow shifts around in its mouth, earning a hearty guffaw.

"Evenin'," the shadow offers before reaching over and flooding the room with incandescent light. The dalmatian recoils as her eyes adjust to the shock from the lone lamp hanging from the ceiling, only to widen in horror as she gets a full view. Some unknown slob of a kangaroo is grinning back at her and her son. His wife-beater and boxers were clearly stained with cum, and his long, pink erection bobbed out of the fly as he got closer and closer. "Please, mister, don't hurt us! I won't tell anyone about this if you just let me and my boy go! I promise!"

<i>Begging. We're off to a good start!</i> Gus takes a hearty drag off his cigar and blows it in the woman's face, his dick dripping on her as he towers over the dog. The cloying smoke making the mother gag even more than the roo's stench of BO. "Leavin'? So soon? But we've got so much to do! Stay awhile, I'll treat'cha right." He takes his cigar and presses the cherry up against her forehead, making her scream as the scent of burnt fur fills the air. <i>That's more like it, now we can get this party started!</i>

"Mommy!" the little boy cries out. "Don't hurt my Mommy, pweease!" Zack's cries make the roo's pecker twitch, coating the mother's fresh burn with a healthy glob of pre.

"Oh don't you worry, little man, yer mommy n me're gonna have a bit of fun." He turns back to look at the young cunt at his feet with a wicked grin, "...Ain't we." He grabs the pocket knife attached to the keyring and kneels down, slowly cutting the pant legs off the dalmatian woman as she freezes, trying to not get cut in the process.

"Nonononono! Pleeeeease no, don't do this! You don't hafta do this!" she begs as he exposes her thong, and then proceeds to cut off her shirt and exposes her bra.

"Hah, red, what a fucking slut. Yer just askin for a good dicking dressed like that. Lemme show ya what a real man can give ya!" Cutting the bra open down the center with one quick motion, Gus shoves his dry fingers into the dalmatian's pussy with his free hand, making her wince in pain. "How ya likin that, bitch?" He rams his fingers in deeper, his claw tips scratching inside as he draws a bit of blood, "There, now yer startin to git wet. You want my dick, I can smell it." He cuts the thong off and stands back up, holding it to his nose and taking a deep breath. 

"All fours. Git, now!" He kicks her over with his powerful leg, knocking her against the cinderblock wall with an audible 'Oof!' Tears stream down her face as she lands on her hands and knees, screaming out as she's violated by the crouching kangaroo, hoping that someone, anyone, could hear.

Someone definitely can hear her, and it's Gus, thoroughly enjoying himself as he shoves his long, tapered dick into her bloodied cunt over and over. The sensations of her tight mound trying to push him out paired with the screams and cries of both her and her kid are just too much for the older roo and he pops much earlier than anticipated, groaning out as he hunches over the spotty dog and pumps her full of his rancid spunk. His smelly pits taint her fur with his stink as he grabs her tits tugging them between his claws and piercing them to where they drip blood and milk.

"GawdDAMN I needed that!" Gus huffs as he catches his breath, flopping back and taking a drag off his stogie. His bloody shaft throbs eagerly in the lamplight, drooling a fat glob of cum from the tip. "I needa drink, then I'll be back. Don't go nowhere, y'hear?" He chuckles at his twisted little joke as he staggers to his feet, shucking his boxers and cleaning off his dick with them before tossing them at Zack. They land on the pup's face and he begins to gag and retch from the awful smell, thrashing about fruitlessly as he tries to toss them off.

After a few minutes, the foul roo returns with beer in hand, pounding it and letting out a belch before tossing the can in the corner. "Now then, time for Round 2!" He watches as the woman's gaze falls to the floor, the thousand-yard stare settling in as she braces herself. <i>Well that's no fun...</i> 

He clicks the pocket knife open and little squeals full the cellar, forcing the mother out of her stupor. "No no no! Nonononononoooooo! Don't hurt my baby!" <i>There we go, much better!</i> Gus' cock slips back into view as the pleading intensifies with each move of the knife. The sound of ripping cloth competes with the mother's pleas and her son's cries as Zack is stripped naked on the table. "You sick fuck, let my baby go! Don't you hurt him!"

"Oh relaaaaax, I ain't that big. I know he can take it. Can't'cha boy?" Gus grins wickedly at Zack, the little boy confused at what was about to happen. Yanking the boy's tail out of the way, the roo shoves his dry dick into the little pucker, making the puppy scream out for his mommy while she watches in horror. "OHHHH, FUCK YES! That's what I'm talkin about! Take my dick ya little shit!" He grabs Zack's throat in one hand as he grips the table with the other, ramming himself over and over into the toddler. His claws press into the tender meat as the boy's cries begin to choke, making the puppy squeeze his bloody, shit-streaked, cock involuntarily. The scent of shit and fear mixes and mingles with the scent of piss and mangled screams as the child's virgin asshole gets ruined. The roo can't help himself and he clamps down tighter, drawing blood as Zack's eyes begin to bulge out and he rams in hard enough that his tapered spire pierces deep into the puppy's guts, perforating him. The woman screams as she watches the life drain out of her son and he goes limp, Gus crying out in ecstasy as he pumps his second load into the lifeless corpse, buried all the way to the hilt. 

After a few minutes, the roo slowly pulls out and wipes himself off on the boy's spotted and soiled fur, a hazy, satisfied grin on his face, "Now there's the real ticket. I need a smoke...and a nap." He stumbles his way back up the stairs, catching the lightswitch with his tail. Locking the cellar door, he leaves the mother and her dead child to the darkness, lighting up a cigar stub for a few quick puffs before putting it back out and collapsing in bed. Cleanup was a Tomorrow Gus problem. His dogs were already drooling in anticipation, settling for licking the spent roo's junk clean as an appetizer.
********
The door groaned open. She didn't care. Her rapist came down the stairs in broad daylight. She didn't care. He tried forcing himself on her again. She didn't care. He tried cutting her a bit with the knife. She didn't care. Her son was dead. Zack...is dead, staring at her with lifeless eyes, his facial expression frozen in terror. Nothing matters anymore. It doesn't even register when Gus takes her boy up the stairs and the sound of dogs fighting over something fills the summer air outside.

<i>Awwww, this new toy didn't even last a whole day. Damn.</i> He plunges the knife into the side of her neck, soaking the dirt floor of the storm cellar and adding to the collection with the others. <i>The dogs are already full from the kid, so she'll hafta wait for later.</i> The pain barely registers, as well as the hot slickness of arterial spurt. Her body seizes from shock and dances in the chains before slumping into a lifeless heap.

He rinses his knife and hands off in the rusty well water from the sink, and then puts his grimy coveralls back on. He still had one more loose end to take care of. Grabbing his keys, he walks out and climbs into the tow truck, a little extra spring in his step.
*******
The back lot of an old, dried-up dealership  acts as the final resting place for the dead chick's car. Once the back tires touch ground, Gus removes the hook from the back axle and unscrews the license plate. His finger traces over the letters as he closes his eyes and savors the memory while its still fresh, tenting his coveralls in the process. With a wistful sigh, his eyes open and he stuffs the plate under his zipper, next to his heart. <i>Another one for the wall. Time to finish the job.</i>

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tube of window chalk, marking the windshield of the dalmatian's car. First, he draws an "L", then putting a tail in the center of the base to make a "T", and finally capping off the right side of the tail with a curve to connect it back to the top as a "D". His signal for the dead drop to show which crypto wallet to fund for his cut of the chop: "Livin' the Dream".