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  "description": "As far back as Brandon can remember he had been the only fox enrolled at Fair Oaks Elementary. Now, in fifth grade, Brandon has been struggling to contain an increasingly embarrassing secret. Today at recess, that secret will explode in full view of his classmates. But Brandon is about to discover that being a fox means more than just looking different than his peers. Can Brandon and his adoptive farther learn to navigate the challenges that come with raising a pubescent fox kit?\n\nStarring: [icon]CookieFoxBrandon[/icon][icon]Peppercorn[/icon][icon]JakeyPup[/icon][icon]ratthew[/icon]\n\nAll original characters are available YCH slots. Contact us if you are interested in incorporating your fursona into this story.\n\nWe are always open to feedback and constructive criticism of our work, feel free to leave your thoughts in a comment below.\n\n",
  "description_bbcode_parsed": "<span style='word-wrap: break-word;'>As far back as Brandon can remember he had been the only fox enrolled at Fair Oaks Elementary. Now, in fifth grade, Brandon has been struggling to contain an increasingly embarrassing secret. Today at recess, that secret will explode in full view of his classmates. But Brandon is about to discover that being a fox means more than just looking different than his peers. Can Brandon and his adoptive farther learn to navigate the challenges that come with raising a pubescent fox kit?<br /><br />Starring: \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<table style='display: inline-block;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<tr>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<td style='text-align: center; border: none;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div style='width: 47px; height: 50px; position: relative; margin: 0px auto;'><a style='position: relative; border: 0px;' href='https://inkbunny.net/CookieFoxBrandon'><img class='shadowedimage' style='border: 0px;' src='https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/222/222446_CookieFoxBrandon_raserenpng.png' width='47' height='50' alt='CookieFoxBrandon' title='CookieFoxBrandon' /></a></div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</td>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</tr>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t</table>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<table style='display: inline-block;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<tr>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<td style='text-align: center; border: none;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div style='width: 50px; height: 50px; position: relative; margin: 0px auto;'><a style='position: relative; border: 0px;' href='https://inkbunny.net/Peppercorn'><img class='shadowedimage' style='border: 0px;' src='https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/220/220922_Peppercorn_sniff.png' width='50' height='50' alt='Peppercorn' title='Peppercorn' /></a></div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</td>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</tr>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t</table>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<table style='display: inline-block;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<tr>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<td style='text-align: center; border: none;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div style='width: 50px; height: 50px; position: relative; margin: 0px auto;'><a style='position: relative; border: 0px;' href='https://inkbunny.net/JakeyPup'><img class='shadowedimage' style='border: 0px;' src='https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/222/222132_DalmationCadet_photo_2021-11-10_17-48-48.jpg' width='50' height='50' alt='JakeyPup' title='JakeyPup' /></a></div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</td>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</tr>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t</table>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<table style='display: inline-block;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<tr>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<td style='text-align: center; border: none;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div style='width: 50px; height: 50px; position: relative; margin: 0px auto;'><a style='position: relative; border: 0px;' href='https://inkbunny.net/ratthew'><img class='shadowedimage' style='border: 0px;' src='https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/253/253952_ratthew_photo_2022-08-28_08-22-45.jpg' width='50' height='50' alt='ratthew' title='ratthew' /></a></div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</td>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</tr>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t</table>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<br /><br />All original characters are available YCH slots. Contact us if you are interested in incorporating your fursona into this story.<br /><br />We are always open to feedback and constructive criticism of our work, feel free to leave your thoughts in a comment below.<br /><br /></span>",
  "writing": "Brandon lifted his tinted goggles as another cloud rolled across the field. He brushed the fur out of his eyes, watching the daily recess soccer game unfold. Brandon always thought of himself as [i]watching[/i] rather than [i]playing[/i] the game, despite the nine-year-old's ostensible position of goalie. This was not the boy's preferred position. His preferred position was away from the crowd, with his back against a wall and a good book in his paws, which was how he had spent the majority of his recess at Fair Oaks Elementary. That was until he received some gentle coaxing from his fifth-grade teacher, who, frustrated once again by seeing him reading alone, demanded that he play with the other children. Alternatively, he could also join her in a parent-teacher conference with his father to share her concerns regarding his apparent social anxiety. The threat of this alone was enough to convince him to join the soccer game. \n\nNaturally, he choose the role of goalie, a position that suited him because it required the least physical or social coordination. But Brandon found himself getting distracted by a persistent, more pressing need. A little tickle in the kit's tummy that had been growing stronger and stronger over the last few hours, growing into an ache that desperately needed relief. Brandon grimaced and lowered a paw to tug at his waistline, absentmindedly brushing up against the crinkling fabric hidden underneath. It was a reflex he had developed shortly after he had decided to start wearing diapers to school again. Well \"decided\" wasn't exactly the right word, lately they had become a necessity.\n\nIt started weeks ago with \"accidents\" in bed. Brandon would wake up cold and wet in his own fluids. First once or twice a week, then nearly every night, no matter how often he tried to empty himself before bed. After nearly a month of this Brandon had come one day to discover a package of Big Kidz diapers discreetly left on his dresser.\n\n\"Just at night so we don't have to keep changing the sheets.\" his father had said, patting his head in an unsuccessful attempt to curb the humiliation. \"Don't worry about it kiddo, it's totally normal for a boy your age!\" But Brandon didn't feel very normal. And he tended to doubt his classmates struggled with \"accidents\" as well, at least not during the day. Now he was forced to carry this laughable secret to his grave. He still didn't know how the other boys did it, running after the ball with all their sensitive parts jostling against the fabric like that. Even thinking about it made Brandon feel sore down there. The kit bit his lip and turned away, feeling as if his diaper had suddenly grown tighter. \n\nThe kit began to gently hop from paw to paw as he tried to will his body back into submission. The unappealing thought of having to spend the rest of the day in a soggy diaper weighed heavily on his mind. Sure he could excuse himself to the restroom and discreetly take care of his needs, but the other kids would probably ask why he didn't go before recess--and in truth he already had. It was probably just another false alarm, that's all, and recess would be over soon anyway, wouldn't it? He could hold it. And more importantly, Brandon wanted to hold it. He didn't want to constantly excuse himself from class every few hours. The other students had already started to notice. Thank God Mrs. Hatchet had at least given him keys to the gender-neutral bathroom so he didn't have to worry about anyone barging in when he needed to relieve himself. He wondered if any of the other students had noticed how irritable she seemed lately...\n\n\"Look out, Brandon!\" a dalmatian pup shouted from the field, ripping Brandon from his daydream. Brandon blinked and hastily turned back to the field, trying to figure out why a group of cubs were suddenly running his way. Then it hit him...\n\n\"Goal!\" a female rabbit from the opposing team hopped up and down excitedly. By this point Brandon was laying in the grass, wincing as he rubbed a throbbing bruise on his ear where her ball had glanced off his head and ricocheted into the net. He sat up to find the dalmatian pup towering over him.\n\n\"Jesus, Hazel, pay attention--it's your one fucking job!\"\n\nAs usual, Brandon was taken aback by Jake using his first name, as well as the older boy's casual use of profanity. Then again Jake always swore, especially where Brandon was concerned. When Brandon first arrived at this school he would occasionally catch the staff exchanging hushed whispers when he passed. He would overhear them using grownup words like \"desegregation\" or \"reunification\". Brandon didn't know what these words meant. All Brandon knew was that he was the only fox enrolled at Fair Oaks Elementary. And everyone else knew it too. It was a fact Jake Gray-Torres was only happy to remind him of.\n\n\"Cool it Jakie, it's just a game!\" another boy called out. Jake glanced at the source of the sound and stiffened, returning his attention to Brandon.\n\n\"Pfft. Lazy fox.\" Jake muttered sullenly as he left to get the ball.\n\nThe boy who just defended Brandon ran up to greet him from across the field. He skidded to a stop before the fox, bending over and taking great gulping gasps in a way that might have passed for holotropic breathwork. Brandon just watched, vaguely transfixed by the little rodent's apparent near-death experience. He knew the other boy, of course, they all did: the unfortunately named Ratthew.\n\nOh yes, Ratthew... As it turned out Brandon's absence of friends wasn't entirely for a lack of trying, in fact, Brandon tried very hard to avoid them. But somehow he never seemed to avoid Ratthew. The little rat was Brandon's constant companion, whose oversized ears and bucktooth smile seemed to lurk around every corner. Always threatening to ambush Brandon with tales of chess camp or his rock collection or similar topics that belonged only in the fox's nightmares. The pair occasionally sat across from each other in the lunchroom and had even been known to trade a snack or two. These familiar interactions could plausibly be mistaken for friendship by someone who wasn't paying much attention. Brandon wondered if Ratthew himself might have fallen into that category.\n\nRatthew stood nearly a foot shorter than the next shortest boy in class and had absolutely no business trying to play soccer. A sickly child, he kept an inhaler in his pocket to fend off the occasional asthma attack and an EpiPen under his desk in case he was ever attacked by a peanut. He had once told the rest of the class he wanted to grow up to be a professional athlete but in retrospect, Brandon sometimes wondered if this has been some sort of thinly veiled death wish. Now the little rat stood hunched over with his hands on his knees, his face drenched in sweat. Drops slid off his chin as he sucked in straggly gasps of air, periodically interrupted by life-preserving rips of his inhaler. Brandon wondered if perhaps someone should call an ambulance.\n\n\"Are...huff...you...huff...okay?\" the boy wheezed.\n\nBrandon stared back in disbelief. \"[i]Me?![/i]\" But the other boy's look of earnest concern made Brandon's ears burn a little and the kit found himself glancing away uncomfortably. \"Yeah, I'm fine...\"\n\nRatthew nodded happily, wiping the sweat from his brow as he stretched. \"Don't worry about Jakie, he's a jerk.\"\n\n\"Yeah...\" Brandon agreed, happy to have broken eye contact. Ratthew was the only one who called Jake Gray-Torres \"Jakie\". Ratthew was the only boy Brandon knew of that Jake never picked on, despite being twice the rodent's size. It was a discrepancy Brandon was still trying to wrap his mind around but he was beginning to detect a deep-seated hostility. The way the dalmatian pup glared while Ratthew waved back at him, kicking the ball around aimlessly, as if he saw something in the rodent's smile he detested.\n\n\"Need a hand?\" the Ratthew turned to Brandon with an outstretched paw. Brandon took it, the whistle clicking against his collar as the smaller boy pulled him up with surprising ease. But the sudden movements caused the fabric of the diaper to rub up against Brandon's nether regions, irritating already tender flesh. His tail stiffened.\n\n[i]No, surely not now...[/i]\n\nBrandon lurched forward with a sharp breath. He froze, eyes bulging in panic, a paw on his abdomen. This was the worst possible timing.\n\nRatthew gave the kit a quizzical expression. \"Something wrong?\"\n\n\"No--\", but Brandon immediately cringed as he took another step forward, the movement eliciting a throb from his loins. He put a paw to his groin. Okay, now he knew it wasn't a false alarm...\n\n\"Are you okay Brandon?\" Ratthew asked with growing concern.\n\n\"I'm perfectly fine, why do you ask?\" Brandon said, twisting back to the little rat with an expertly-forged smile.\n\nRatthew titled his head, frowning as he scratched one of his oversized ears. \"Because you don't look okay...\"\n\n\"I'm fine, really...\" Brandon said as he tried to straighten himself but he hissed as he tightened up again, falling into a crouch with a whine.\n\n\"Woah, what's wrong, Brandon?!\" Ratthew asked as he crouched next to his friend, placing a paw on the fox's shoulder with unwanted familiarity.\n\n\"I just need to use the restroom--eek!\" Brandon hissed as he tightened up again. He watched as Ratthew's lips move as the rodent started to ramble, but by this point, Brandon was no longer paying attention. It was taking all his focus not to react to the building pressure in his loins. He wished the stupid rat would just go away, didn't the other boy realize how embarrassing this was?\n\nBut the fox's ears flicked to attention as something Ratthew said suddenly cut through the murk: \"Hey guys, hold up! Something's wrong with Brandon!\"\n\n\"What?!\", Brandon's heart nearly leaped into his throat. He took one hesitant step before immediately seizing up. It was no good, he was too sensitive down there. If he moved now he might have another accident. Brandon clenched his fists. No, not here. Not here.\n\nA crowd was beginning to coalesce around the crouching cubs. One by one the other players trotted over, each one studying the fox kit and offering their learned opinions with varying degrees of concern. Even some of the kids on the jungle gym were padding over to see what all the commotion was about. Brandon fought the urge to scream. An audience, that was exactly what he needed...\n\n\"What's the holdup?\" Jake demanded. The dalmatian pup stepped out of the crowd with his arms folded as if he were somehow insulted and expected an imminent apology.\n\n\"Brandon's hurt,\" Ratthew said.\n\n\"It's. Just. A. Cramp.\" Brandon growled through his teeth. It felt like his smile had been plastered on.\n\n\"So what's wrong with him then?” Jake snorted. “Somebody kick him in the nads or what?” The young kit kept his head down, the tips of his ears burning bright red as snickers broke out in the crowd.\n\n\"That true, you get kicked or something?\"\n\nThe kit shook his head quickly, knees pressed together, contemplating the patterns of leaves in the grass.\n\n\"You sure Brandon? You don't have a problem...down there?\" Ratthew pointed, eliciting a cackle from Jake. But Ratthew shot the dalmatian an icy glare, turning back to the kit. \"It's nothing to be embarrassed about!\" Ratthew lied cheerfully.\n\n\"I-I'm n-not embarrassed...\" Brandon whimpered.\n\n[i]I will fucking kill you, Ratthew.[/i]\n\n\"R-Really--\" Brandon continued politely, \"I-I'm fine, I-I promise.\"\n\n\"Maybe someone should get the nurse.\" a girl from the crowd offered.\n\n[i]Don't even think about it.[/i]\n\n\"Go away...\" Brandon murmured in a voice just above a whisper. \"Everyone please just go back to the game...\" He wished he could faint in embarrassment.\n\n[i]You're making it worse.[/i]\n\n\"What's that? We can't hear you.\"\n\n\"You're crying, dude...\"\n\nAnd to Brandon's surprise, the kit had been silently weeping, two thin trails of tears welling up from his eyes. He sniffled and quickly wiped the damp fur across his sleeve as he fought back the tears. Well, why shouldn't he be crying? Anyone would be crying in a situation like this! It was all these stupid kids, they were one the ones making him cry. For years he had known they were out to get him and now he had proof. He could always feel their gaze on him, in class or the lunchroom or the halls, always waiting for the chance to see him humiliate himself, laughing at him with their eyes.\n\nBrandon had had accidents in public before, but never like this, never with so many others watching. Brandon cringed as his abdomen tightened up some more. He was really going to do it, wasn't he? He was really going to let loose in front of everyone. Would they be able to tell? That was the whole point of wearing diapers wasn't it, so nobody would be able to tell? It was too late now, the restroom might as well have been miles away. The fox kit whined, hot shame rolling down his cheeks as he tried to take deep breaths. [i]Relax, just relax and get it over with...[/i]\n\nBut he couldn't. He couldn't make himself go! Not with everybody watching! The knot in his loins wound tighter and tighter as Brandon's eyes widened with panic. The more he thought about all those other faces staring down at him, the tighter it got. The diaper seemed to be getting tighter as well, pressing up against his penis, torturing him. He felt hot, his whole body was burning up. He felt sick. Did he have a fever? Maybe the other kids were right, maybe he did need to see the nurse. Maybe he was going to blow a blood vessel and die right there on the grass. Why couldn't his body just do what it needed to do like it always did?\n\n\"H-Help...\" Brandon whimpered pathetically, his expression pleading. The pangs had grown into a constant dull pressure. The world was spinning, taking on dream-like proportions. He couldn't think straight. The pressure! He had to get rid of the pressure! \n\nBrandon began to fumble with the buttons on his shorts. He watched himself with detached horror, heart racing in excitement. Christ, what was he even doing? Everyone was going to see! But his body seemed to overrule him, paws working on their own. It didn't matter anymore. With trembling paws, he began to unzip his fly. The other children stared back in bewilderment, enthralled by the strange fox boy they called their classmate.  But this silence quickly gave way to murmurs. Brandon's shorts fell to the wayside, revealing the paw-printed fabric hidden underneath.\n\n\"Haha, he still wears diapers!\" Jake began cackling madly. Brandon could feel his cheeks burn even hotter, ears folded back in shame. He fell to his knees, grabbing his tummy as he felt those butterflies multiplying again.\n\n\"What are you doing, Brandon?\" Ratthew asked with growing alarm. But Brandon didn't answer, he couldn't answer if he tried. His mind had short-circuited, flooded with a mixture of panic and shame and excitement so intense it bordered on euphoric. The pressure had been relieved but only a little, he was still too constricted. Biting his lip, the fox hooked his thumbs around the tape bands of the diaper and pulled down.\n\nThe front of the diaper fell forward and Brandon gasped as he felt the summer breeze brush against his privates, but the gasps from the crowd were louder, their mischievous curiosity giving way to fear. Brandon's heartbeat raced like a jackhammer. It felt surreal and so unbelievably naughty to be naked outside like this. And to Bradon's shame, he discovered he liked the feeling. But the shame was quickly fading just like the other children's shouts of surprise. They felt far away, like the memory of a half-forgotten dream.\n\n\"Woah!\"\n\n\"He's getting naked!\n\n\"But why is his weiner so big?!\"\n\nThe panting kit blinked as the world seemed to grow back into focus a bit. He glanced down, his lower stomach was bare. And above his furry pouch, a miniature erection jutted out of its sheath. His penis seemed to stare back at the crowd in its, lewd, lecherous way. Preseed drooling down its length like saliva as it leered ravenously at the other cubs. The kit's eyes widened with surprise as the knot swelled with blood. It was getting bigger! The others were making it grow bigger!\n\n\"Brandon...\"\n\nBrandon glanced up to see Ratthew staring at him in confusion and concern. The kit clenched his eyes shut, his face burning with shame.\n\n[i]No, stop looking at it! It's too naughty! If you keep looking at it I'm gonna...gonna...[/i]\n\nBrandon's claws pulled at blades of grass, gripping the earth as if he might float away. It was too much, his skin has become electric, the lightest touch sending jolts down his small frame. Even the air itself seemed to be tickling him. The kit's tail twitched as he tried to remain still. His panting became shored labored huffs, gasping desperately for air. He tensed up, squirming as a familiar warmth began to emanate from his loins throughout his body, bubbling up to the surface. A gentle breeze rolled across the field and that was all it took to ignite the warmth into a fire. The kit's breath hitched as he arched his back and his abdomen began to convulse.\n\n\"Brandon, I--eek!\" Ratthew squeaked and cried out, wheeling over backward with a paw to his face where Brandon's first spurt had hit him square in the eye.  Ratthew hopped just out of the way of the next spurt as the fox kit started to cum hands-free.\n\n\"Eww! Brandon's peeing on him!\" a boy in the crowd squealed. \n\n \"I don't think that's pee...\" Jake said, suddenly troubled. The dalmatian pup surveyed the rest of the crowd. The other children were murmuring something incomprehensible, breathlessly absorbed by the ejaculating kit, their pale expressions a mixture of disgust and awe. Everyone but Ratthew. The rodent boy calmly brushed the rope of cum from his eyes with a paw, nonchalantly licking his fingers clean. His eyes slide back to Jake, meeting the dalmation's apprehensive gaze with a thin smile.\n \nBrandon wanted to speak, wanted to offer a half-hearted apology, but all that came out was a sigh that very quickly deepened into a moan--tapering into desperate whines and quiet little gasps as his hot seed pumped through him. The spurts brought with them waves of pleasure, each one deeper than the last. Ancient instincts took over as the boy clenched his jaws, bucking his hips, subconsciously trying to mate the air. Unsure of what he was doing except that it helped. The pulses quickened into a stream that sent his member bobbing up and down like a loose hydrant. He tried to grab it, tried to slow it down, but he was far too sensitive. He yipped and pulled his paws from the aching flesh as if he'd been scalded. He curled his paws into a fist as he sat there, taking sharp breaths as he continued spurting thick ropes, squirting his full load to water the grass.\n\nRelief. Brandon finally felt relief. And it was a relief he needed so desperately. He knew it wouldn't last. The good tingles never lasted when he rubbed himself, not after he started squirting this strange sticky stuff. But Brandon didn't want to think about that. The kit closed his eyes with a whimper, giving in completely now, feeling all his tensions melt away in those hot spurts as his mind swam in an orgasmic sea of pleasure. It was a familiar, safe place to him. A place he could go where his problems couldn't follow.\n\nAfter nearly a minute the stream had drained to a trickle but the ejaculations continued long past the point there was anything left to squirt out. Brandon continued to take hot, labored gasps, his cocklet twitching as he suffered through his string of dry orgasms. Finally, he slouched forward, falling forward on his paws and as colors danced at the edges of his vision. He panted with his tongue lolling out, saliva dripping into the grass below.\n\nBrandon felt something squishy under his paw, discovering to his dismay that he had placed it in a puddle of his own spunk. The boy sat back up, blinking at the circle of children as if noticing them for the first time. They stood wide-eyed, their mouths agape, and Brandon met their wordless shock with his own. Brandon sat there in naked silence as the wind swept across the field.\n\nThen he started to cry.\n\n\n\n\"Mrs. Hatchet! Mrs. Hatchet!\"\n\nAmanda Hatchet winced as she took another drag of her nicotine vape. The fifth-grade school teacher lowered her ears and leaned against the wall of the storage shed as if doing so might conceal her from her pupil's shrill voice. Right now Ratthew Silverburg was marching down the soccer field on a singular mission: to interrupt her clandestine nicotine break. She watched the approaching rodent with placid spite.\n\n\"Mrs. Hatchet!\" Ratthew yelled out again, running around with stageworthy panic. \"Mrs. Hatchet, we have a bit of a situation!\"\n\n[i]Yes, I'm well aware of that, Ratthew...[/i]\n\nAmanda had kept a keen eye on her students in the window, noting the growing flock of fifth-graders with mounting dread. Nothing good could possibly come from having that many children gathered in one place. Christ, what would it be this time? A bloody nose, a scraped knee? Did one of the little brats piss themselves again? Something more serious? A twisted ankle? Did somebody break their arm? Or worse... Amanda grimaced as other possibilities flickered through her mind. Someone found an orphaned kitten perhaps, or maybe a baby bird with a broken wing. Wouldn't that be just perfect? Another class mascot for her kids to nurse back to health before inevitably killing. Didn't they remember what happened last year with the hamster? Amanda shuddered. [i]She[/i] remembered the hamster...\n\nRatthew ran up to the edge of the field, already out of breath, paws padding against black asphalt as he surveyed the playground anxiously.\n\n\"Mrs. Hatchet, I don't see you!\"\n\nWith a familiar sigh of acceptance, the thirty-year-old rottweiler took one last drag of her nicotine vaporizer before stowing it and stepping out from the storage shed with a wave. \n\n\"I'm right here, Ratthew!\" she yelled back, flashing a reassuring smile.\n\n[i]God, I can't stand that little shit.[/i]\n\nUnbeknownst to Ratthew, it was he who was most directly responsible for his teacher's present nicotine dependence. Amanda had found him and Jake Gray-Torres examining the e-cigarette before school. Like any responsible adult, she had confiscated the device, replacing it with a stern lecture regarding the consequences of nicotine addiction--before swiftly becoming addicted herself. Of course, she [i]wanted[/i] to quit, but there was something so devilishly enticing about a vaporizer that was thin enough to pass as a flash drive and produced no discernible scent. And those mango pods, Christ! It was like having an endless supply of calorie-free candy that got you high. Still, as a teacher, Amanda had an obligation to lead by example, which is why she had curtailed her vaping sessions to just five minutes during the school day. Just five minutes, that's all she asked for...\n\nAs Amanda made her way across the playground a golden retriever pup playing basketball made the unfortunate mistake of stepping into her way.\n\n\"Dammit Billy, watch where you're going, don't you have any common sense?!\" she barked. The wide-eyed pup twisted around and nearly stumbled over backward as she pushed past him.\n\n\"Honey, you're getting irritable...maybe you ought to try the patch.\" Amanda's husband had suggested that earlier that morning. But Amanda didn't need a patch, what she needed were students who could be left unattended for five minutes! Just five fucking minutes!\n\nAmanda forced herself to smile as she approached the gasping rodent. She bent over him the boy, putting her paws in her lap as she spoke.\n\n\"Now what's all the fuss about?\" she asked warmly. She should have been nominated for an academy award.\n\nThe rat stared back vacantly. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, opened it again, and realized he forgot what he was going to say. He sputtered a bit before taking several giant rips from his inhaler, gulping it down like an addict. Amanda waited patiently as the rodent stammered out a string of incoherent sentence fragments.\n\n\"Take your time dear...\" Amanda added as she tried not to gnash her teeth.\n\n\"It's B-B-Bran--It's B-B-Bran--\" Ratthew stuttered before abruptly pausing and wrinkling his nose. \"You use an inhaler too?\"\n\nAmanda glanced down to find the e-cigarette dangling out of her pocket, a wispy trail of vapor wafting up as the ON button squeezed against her pants. \n \n\"RATTHEW--\" Amanda began before quickly catching herself and lowering her voice. \"Erm. Why don't you tell me what's wrong, honey?\"\n\nThe boy blinked for a moment as if momentarily forgetting he was asthmatic before once again fumbling with his inhaler.\n\n\"It's Bran-it's Bran--\" the fifth-grader wheezed, desperately pointing back to the field. Amanda rolled her eyes as she strode past him, quickening her pace after she noticed Jake standing among the crowd. Of course, that bloody dalmatian was behind this... But Amanda hesitated when she saw Jake's haunted expression. The other children turned back as well, their eyes darkened by fear. There was something eerie about it. With a mob like this, you had to expect some noise, screaming or cheering, a school-yard fight, or some boy chasing a girl around with dog-shit on a stick. But here a deathly silence had descended upon the group and as the crowd parted it was broken only by the sound of muffled sobbing. A lone cub sat in a puddle of damp grass, paws covering his face in shame. She recognized him immediately, the only fox enrolled at Fair Oaks Elementary School: Hazel Brandon Kiddo.\n\nThe fox kit stared silently at her, pupils shimmering with tears. The boy was bottomless, tail curled between his thighs in a vain attempt to cover himself. His chronic erection still jutting out painfully: swollen and angry and horrible. The oversized knot bulged out like a tumor. His soiled shorts sat in a messy pile around his ankles, the fabric caked in dirt and tears, and other bodily fluids. A steady trickle of semen was still dribbling down his balls, making a puddle atop the padding of the well-soaked diaper.\n\nAmanda didn't know what to do. Nobody knew what to do. They just stood there. Watching the little fox cry.\n\n\n\nPeppercorn Kiddo tapped his foot-paw to the music as he drew. The middle-aged bear always found he could always get lost in his work. Outside the world was messy and ambiguous but here, the lines of his draft paper were clear and concise, problems waiting to be solved. A skylight here, a balcony there. Was this wall load-bearing? The requirements changed this morning, now we need two bathrooms instead of one.\n\nPepper jumped as he grabbed his phone, buzzing with an incoming call.\n\n\"Peppercorn Kiddo, may I ask who's calling?\" Pepper squinted, ears perking as he fumbled with the nob of his radio. \"Yes, I'm Hazel's legal guardian. What's this about?\"\n\nHe listened for a moment, frowning. \"What kind of 'accident'? Is he hurt? No. No, that won't be necessary. I'm already on my way.\"\n\nThe brown bear's frown grew deeper as he hit the call end button. Pepper glanced one last time at the desk littered with half-finished sketches before he gathered his keys and headed out the door.\n\n[t]Author's Notes[/t]\nI recently reworked my telegram fan group, it's not longer invite-only. If you like my writing feel free [url=https://t.me/+n1atq7oAQHdjNmJh]to join[/url] and hang out with some of the coolest people around!\n\n[right][b][i]// YOU ARE NOT VALID[/i][/b][/right]\n",
  "writing_bbcode_parsed": "<span style='word-wrap: break-word;'>Brandon lifted his tinted goggles as another cloud rolled across the field. He brushed the fur out of his eyes, watching the daily recess soccer game unfold. Brandon always thought of himself as <em>watching</em> rather than <em>playing</em> the game, despite the nine-year-old&#039;s ostensible position of goalie. This was not the boy&#039;s preferred position. His preferred position was away from the crowd, with his back against a wall and a good book in his paws, which was how he had spent the majority of his recess at Fair Oaks Elementary. That was until he received some gentle coaxing from his fifth-grade teacher, who, frustrated once again by seeing him reading alone, demanded that he play with the other children. Alternatively, he could also join her in a parent-teacher conference with his father to share her concerns regarding his apparent social anxiety. The threat of this alone was enough to convince him to join the soccer game. <br /><br />Naturally, he choose the role of goalie, a position that suited him because it required the least physical or social coordination. But Brandon found himself getting distracted by a persistent, more pressing need. A little tickle in the kit&#039;s tummy that had been growing stronger and stronger over the last few hours, growing into an ache that desperately needed relief. Brandon grimaced and lowered a paw to tug at his waistline, absentmindedly brushing up against the crinkling fabric hidden underneath. It was a reflex he had developed shortly after he had decided to start wearing diapers to school again. Well &quot;decided&quot; wasn&#039;t exactly the right word, lately they had become a necessity.<br /><br />It started weeks ago with &quot;accidents&quot; in bed. Brandon would wake up cold and wet in his own fluids. First once or twice a week, then nearly every night, no matter how often he tried to empty himself before bed. After nearly a month of this Brandon had come one day to discover a package of Big Kidz diapers discreetly left on his dresser.<br /><br />&quot;Just at night so we don&#039;t have to keep changing the sheets.&quot; his father had said, patting his head in an unsuccessful attempt to curb the humiliation. &quot;Don&#039;t worry about it kiddo, it&#039;s totally normal for a boy your age!&quot; But Brandon didn&#039;t feel very normal. And he tended to doubt his classmates struggled with &quot;accidents&quot; as well, at least not during the day. Now he was forced to carry this laughable secret to his grave. He still didn&#039;t know how the other boys did it, running after the ball with all their sensitive parts jostling against the fabric like that. Even thinking about it made Brandon feel sore down there. The kit bit his lip and turned away, feeling as if his diaper had suddenly grown tighter. <br /><br />The kit began to gently hop from paw to paw as he tried to will his body back into submission. The unappealing thought of having to spend the rest of the day in a soggy diaper weighed heavily on his mind. Sure he could excuse himself to the restroom and discreetly take care of his needs, but the other kids would probably ask why he didn&#039;t go before recess--and in truth he already had. It was probably just another false alarm, that&#039;s all, and recess would be over soon anyway, wouldn&#039;t it? He could hold it. And more importantly, Brandon wanted to hold it. He didn&#039;t want to constantly excuse himself from class every few hours. The other students had already started to notice. Thank God Mrs. Hatchet had at least given him keys to the gender-neutral bathroom so he didn&#039;t have to worry about anyone barging in when he needed to relieve himself. He wondered if any of the other students had noticed how irritable she seemed lately...<br /><br />&quot;Look out, Brandon!&quot; a dalmatian pup shouted from the field, ripping Brandon from his daydream. Brandon blinked and hastily turned back to the field, trying to figure out why a group of cubs were suddenly running his way. Then it hit him...<br /><br />&quot;Goal!&quot; a female rabbit from the opposing team hopped up and down excitedly. By this point Brandon was laying in the grass, wincing as he rubbed a throbbing bruise on his ear where her ball had glanced off his head and ricocheted into the net. He sat up to find the dalmatian pup towering over him.<br /><br />&quot;Jesus, Hazel, pay attention--it&#039;s your one fucking job!&quot;<br /><br />As usual, Brandon was taken aback by Jake using his first name, as well as the older boy&#039;s casual use of profanity. Then again Jake always swore, especially where Brandon was concerned. When Brandon first arrived at this school he would occasionally catch the staff exchanging hushed whispers when he passed. He would overhear them using grownup words like &quot;desegregation&quot; or &quot;reunification&quot;. Brandon didn&#039;t know what these words meant. All Brandon knew was that he was the only fox enrolled at Fair Oaks Elementary. And everyone else knew it too. It was a fact Jake Gray-Torres was only happy to remind him of.<br /><br />&quot;Cool it Jakie, it&#039;s just a game!&quot; another boy called out. Jake glanced at the source of the sound and stiffened, returning his attention to Brandon.<br /><br />&quot;Pfft. Lazy fox.&quot; Jake muttered sullenly as he left to get the ball.<br /><br />The boy who just defended Brandon ran up to greet him from across the field. He skidded to a stop before the fox, bending over and taking great gulping gasps in a way that might have passed for holotropic breathwork. Brandon just watched, vaguely transfixed by the little rodent&#039;s apparent near-death experience. He knew the other boy, of course, they all did: the unfortunately named Ratthew.<br /><br />Oh yes, Ratthew... As it turned out Brandon&#039;s absence of friends wasn&#039;t entirely for a lack of trying, in fact, Brandon tried very hard to avoid them. But somehow he never seemed to avoid Ratthew. The little rat was Brandon&#039;s constant companion, whose oversized ears and bucktooth smile seemed to lurk around every corner. Always threatening to ambush Brandon with tales of chess camp or his rock collection or similar topics that belonged only in the fox&#039;s nightmares. The pair occasionally sat across from each other in the lunchroom and had even been known to trade a snack or two. These familiar interactions could plausibly be mistaken for friendship by someone who wasn&#039;t paying much attention. Brandon wondered if Ratthew himself might have fallen into that category.<br /><br />Ratthew stood nearly a foot shorter than the next shortest boy in class and had absolutely no business trying to play soccer. A sickly child, he kept an inhaler in his pocket to fend off the occasional asthma attack and an EpiPen under his desk in case he was ever attacked by a peanut. He had once told the rest of the class he wanted to grow up to be a professional athlete but in retrospect, Brandon sometimes wondered if this has been some sort of thinly veiled death wish. Now the little rat stood hunched over with his hands on his knees, his face drenched in sweat. Drops slid off his chin as he sucked in straggly gasps of air, periodically interrupted by life-preserving rips of his inhaler. Brandon wondered if perhaps someone should call an ambulance.<br /><br />&quot;Are...huff...you...huff...okay?&quot; the boy wheezed.<br /><br />Brandon stared back in disbelief. &quot;<em>Me?!</em>&quot; But the other boy&#039;s look of earnest concern made Brandon&#039;s ears burn a little and the kit found himself glancing away uncomfortably. &quot;Yeah, I&#039;m fine...&quot;<br /><br />Ratthew nodded happily, wiping the sweat from his brow as he stretched. &quot;Don&#039;t worry about Jakie, he&#039;s a jerk.&quot;<br /><br />&quot;Yeah...&quot; Brandon agreed, happy to have broken eye contact. Ratthew was the only one who called Jake Gray-Torres &quot;Jakie&quot;. Ratthew was the only boy Brandon knew of that Jake never picked on, despite being twice the rodent&#039;s size. It was a discrepancy Brandon was still trying to wrap his mind around but he was beginning to detect a deep-seated hostility. The way the dalmatian pup glared while Ratthew waved back at him, kicking the ball around aimlessly, as if he saw something in the rodent&#039;s smile he detested.<br /><br />&quot;Need a hand?&quot; the Ratthew turned to Brandon with an outstretched paw. Brandon took it, the whistle clicking against his collar as the smaller boy pulled him up with surprising ease. But the sudden movements caused the fabric of the diaper to rub up against Brandon&#039;s nether regions, irritating already tender flesh. His tail stiffened.<br /><br /><em>No, surely not now...</em><br /><br />Brandon lurched forward with a sharp breath. He froze, eyes bulging in panic, a paw on his abdomen. This was the worst possible timing.<br /><br />Ratthew gave the kit a quizzical expression. &quot;Something wrong?&quot;<br /><br />&quot;No--&quot;, but Brandon immediately cringed as he took another step forward, the movement eliciting a throb from his loins. He put a paw to his groin. Okay, now he knew it wasn&#039;t a false alarm...<br /><br />&quot;Are you okay Brandon?&quot; Ratthew asked with growing concern.<br /><br />&quot;I&#039;m perfectly fine, why do you ask?&quot; Brandon said, twisting back to the little rat with an expertly-forged smile.<br /><br />Ratthew titled his head, frowning as he scratched one of his oversized ears. &quot;Because you don&#039;t look okay...&quot;<br /><br />&quot;I&#039;m fine, really...&quot; Brandon said as he tried to straighten himself but he hissed as he tightened up again, falling into a crouch with a whine.<br /><br />&quot;Woah, what&#039;s wrong, Brandon?!&quot; Ratthew asked as he crouched next to his friend, placing a paw on the fox&#039;s shoulder with unwanted familiarity.<br /><br />&quot;I just need to use the restroom--eek!&quot; Brandon hissed as he tightened up again. He watched as Ratthew&#039;s lips move as the rodent started to ramble, but by this point, Brandon was no longer paying attention. It was taking all his focus not to react to the building pressure in his loins. He wished the stupid rat would just go away, didn&#039;t the other boy realize how embarrassing this was?<br /><br />But the fox&#039;s ears flicked to attention as something Ratthew said suddenly cut through the murk: &quot;Hey guys, hold up! Something&#039;s wrong with Brandon!&quot;<br /><br />&quot;What?!&quot;, Brandon&#039;s heart nearly leaped into his throat. He took one hesitant step before immediately seizing up. It was no good, he was too sensitive down there. If he moved now he might have another accident. Brandon clenched his fists. No, not here. Not here.<br /><br />A crowd was beginning to coalesce around the crouching cubs. One by one the other players trotted over, each one studying the fox kit and offering their learned opinions with varying degrees of concern. Even some of the kids on the jungle gym were padding over to see what all the commotion was about. Brandon fought the urge to scream. An audience, that was exactly what he needed...<br /><br />&quot;What&#039;s the holdup?&quot; Jake demanded. The dalmatian pup stepped out of the crowd with his arms folded as if he were somehow insulted and expected an imminent apology.<br /><br />&quot;Brandon&#039;s hurt,&quot; Ratthew said.<br /><br />&quot;It&#039;s. Just. A. Cramp.&quot; Brandon growled through his teeth. It felt like his smile had been plastered on.<br /><br />&quot;So what&#039;s wrong with him then?&rdquo; Jake snorted. &ldquo;Somebody kick him in the nads or what?&rdquo; The young kit kept his head down, the tips of his ears burning bright red as snickers broke out in the crowd.<br /><br />&quot;That true, you get kicked or something?&quot;<br /><br />The kit shook his head quickly, knees pressed together, contemplating the patterns of leaves in the grass.<br /><br />&quot;You sure Brandon? You don&#039;t have a problem...down there?&quot; Ratthew pointed, eliciting a cackle from Jake. But Ratthew shot the dalmatian an icy glare, turning back to the kit. &quot;It&#039;s nothing to be embarrassed about!&quot; Ratthew lied cheerfully.<br /><br />&quot;I-I&#039;m n-not embarrassed...&quot; Brandon whimpered.<br /><br /><em>I will fucking kill you, Ratthew.</em><br /><br />&quot;R-Really--&quot; Brandon continued politely, &quot;I-I&#039;m fine, I-I promise.&quot;<br /><br />&quot;Maybe someone should get the nurse.&quot; a girl from the crowd offered.<br /><br /><em>Don&#039;t even think about it.</em><br /><br />&quot;Go away...&quot; Brandon murmured in a voice just above a whisper. &quot;Everyone please just go back to the game...&quot; He wished he could faint in embarrassment.<br /><br /><em>You&#039;re making it worse.</em><br /><br />&quot;What&#039;s that? We can&#039;t hear you.&quot;<br /><br />&quot;You&#039;re crying, dude...&quot;<br /><br />And to Brandon&#039;s surprise, the kit had been silently weeping, two thin trails of tears welling up from his eyes. He sniffled and quickly wiped the damp fur across his sleeve as he fought back the tears. Well, why shouldn&#039;t he be crying? Anyone would be crying in a situation like this! It was all these stupid kids, they were one the ones making him cry. For years he had known they were out to get him and now he had proof. He could always feel their gaze on him, in class or the lunchroom or the halls, always waiting for the chance to see him humiliate himself, laughing at him with their eyes.<br /><br />Brandon had had accidents in public before, but never like this, never with so many others watching. Brandon cringed as his abdomen tightened up some more. He was really going to do it, wasn&#039;t he? He was really going to let loose in front of everyone. Would they be able to tell? That was the whole point of wearing diapers wasn&#039;t it, so nobody would be able to tell? It was too late now, the restroom might as well have been miles away. The fox kit whined, hot shame rolling down his cheeks as he tried to take deep breaths. <em>Relax, just relax and get it over with...</em><br /><br />But he couldn&#039;t. He couldn&#039;t make himself go! Not with everybody watching! The knot in his loins wound tighter and tighter as Brandon&#039;s eyes widened with panic. The more he thought about all those other faces staring down at him, the tighter it got. The diaper seemed to be getting tighter as well, pressing up against his penis, torturing him. He felt hot, his whole body was burning up. He felt sick. Did he have a fever? Maybe the other kids were right, maybe he did need to see the nurse. Maybe he was going to blow a blood vessel and die right there on the grass. Why couldn&#039;t his body just do what it needed to do like it always did?<br /><br />&quot;H-Help...&quot; Brandon whimpered pathetically, his expression pleading. The pangs had grown into a constant dull pressure. The world was spinning, taking on dream-like proportions. He couldn&#039;t think straight. The pressure! He had to get rid of the pressure! <br /><br />Brandon began to fumble with the buttons on his shorts. He watched himself with detached horror, heart racing in excitement. Christ, what was he even doing? Everyone was going to see! But his body seemed to overrule him, paws working on their own. It didn&#039;t matter anymore. With trembling paws, he began to unzip his fly. The other children stared back in bewilderment, enthralled by the strange fox boy they called their classmate.&nbsp;&nbsp;But this silence quickly gave way to murmurs. Brandon&#039;s shorts fell to the wayside, revealing the paw-printed fabric hidden underneath.<br /><br />&quot;Haha, he still wears diapers!&quot; Jake began cackling madly. Brandon could feel his cheeks burn even hotter, ears folded back in shame. He fell to his knees, grabbing his tummy as he felt those butterflies multiplying again.<br /><br />&quot;What are you doing, Brandon?&quot; Ratthew asked with growing alarm. But Brandon didn&#039;t answer, he couldn&#039;t answer if he tried. His mind had short-circuited, flooded with a mixture of panic and shame and excitement so intense it bordered on euphoric. The pressure had been relieved but only a little, he was still too constricted. Biting his lip, the fox hooked his thumbs around the tape bands of the diaper and pulled down.<br /><br />The front of the diaper fell forward and Brandon gasped as he felt the summer breeze brush against his privates, but the gasps from the crowd were louder, their mischievous curiosity giving way to fear. Brandon&#039;s heartbeat raced like a jackhammer. It felt surreal and so unbelievably naughty to be naked outside like this. And to Bradon&#039;s shame, he discovered he liked the feeling. But the shame was quickly fading just like the other children&#039;s shouts of surprise. They felt far away, like the memory of a half-forgotten dream.<br /><br />&quot;Woah!&quot;<br /><br />&quot;He&#039;s getting naked!<br /><br />&quot;But why is his weiner so big?!&quot;<br /><br />The panting kit blinked as the world seemed to grow back into focus a bit. He glanced down, his lower stomach was bare. And above his furry pouch, a miniature erection jutted out of its sheath. His penis seemed to stare back at the crowd in its, lewd, lecherous way. Preseed drooling down its length like saliva as it leered ravenously at the other cubs. The kit&#039;s eyes widened with surprise as the knot swelled with blood. It was getting bigger! The others were making it grow bigger!<br /><br />&quot;Brandon...&quot;<br /><br />Brandon glanced up to see Ratthew staring at him in confusion and concern. The kit clenched his eyes shut, his face burning with shame.<br /><br /><em>No, stop looking at it! It&#039;s too naughty! If you keep looking at it I&#039;m gonna...gonna...</em><br /><br />Brandon&#039;s claws pulled at blades of grass, gripping the earth as if he might float away. It was too much, his skin has become electric, the lightest touch sending jolts down his small frame. Even the air itself seemed to be tickling him. The kit&#039;s tail twitched as he tried to remain still. His panting became shored labored huffs, gasping desperately for air. He tensed up, squirming as a familiar warmth began to emanate from his loins throughout his body, bubbling up to the surface. A gentle breeze rolled across the field and that was all it took to ignite the warmth into a fire. The kit&#039;s breath hitched as he arched his back and his abdomen began to convulse.<br /><br />&quot;Brandon, I--eek!&quot; Ratthew squeaked and cried out, wheeling over backward with a paw to his face where Brandon&#039;s first spurt had hit him square in the eye.&nbsp;&nbsp;Ratthew hopped just out of the way of the next spurt as the fox kit started to cum hands-free.<br /><br />&quot;Eww! Brandon&#039;s peeing on him!&quot; a boy in the crowd squealed. <br /><br />&nbsp;&quot;I don&#039;t think that&#039;s pee...&quot; Jake said, suddenly troubled. The dalmatian pup surveyed the rest of the crowd. The other children were murmuring something incomprehensible, breathlessly absorbed by the ejaculating kit, their pale expressions a mixture of disgust and awe. Everyone but Ratthew. The rodent boy calmly brushed the rope of cum from his eyes with a paw, nonchalantly licking his fingers clean. His eyes slide back to Jake, meeting the dalmation&#039;s apprehensive gaze with a thin smile.<br />&nbsp;<br />Brandon wanted to speak, wanted to offer a half-hearted apology, but all that came out was a sigh that very quickly deepened into a moan--tapering into desperate whines and quiet little gasps as his hot seed pumped through him. The spurts brought with them waves of pleasure, each one deeper than the last. Ancient instincts took over as the boy clenched his jaws, bucking his hips, subconsciously trying to mate the air. Unsure of what he was doing except that it helped. The pulses quickened into a stream that sent his member bobbing up and down like a loose hydrant. He tried to grab it, tried to slow it down, but he was far too sensitive. He yipped and pulled his paws from the aching flesh as if he&#039;d been scalded. He curled his paws into a fist as he sat there, taking sharp breaths as he continued spurting thick ropes, squirting his full load to water the grass.<br /><br />Relief. Brandon finally felt relief. And it was a relief he needed so desperately. He knew it wouldn&#039;t last. The good tingles never lasted when he rubbed himself, not after he started squirting this strange sticky stuff. But Brandon didn&#039;t want to think about that. The kit closed his eyes with a whimper, giving in completely now, feeling all his tensions melt away in those hot spurts as his mind swam in an orgasmic sea of pleasure. It was a familiar, safe place to him. A place he could go where his problems couldn&#039;t follow.<br /><br />After nearly a minute the stream had drained to a trickle but the ejaculations continued long past the point there was anything left to squirt out. Brandon continued to take hot, labored gasps, his cocklet twitching as he suffered through his string of dry orgasms. Finally, he slouched forward, falling forward on his paws and as colors danced at the edges of his vision. He panted with his tongue lolling out, saliva dripping into the grass below.<br /><br />Brandon felt something squishy under his paw, discovering to his dismay that he had placed it in a puddle of his own spunk. The boy sat back up, blinking at the circle of children as if noticing them for the first time. They stood wide-eyed, their mouths agape, and Brandon met their wordless shock with his own. Brandon sat there in naked silence as the wind swept across the field.<br /><br />Then he started to cry.<br /><br /><br /><br />&quot;Mrs. Hatchet! Mrs. Hatchet!&quot;<br /><br />Amanda Hatchet winced as she took another drag of her nicotine vape. The fifth-grade school teacher lowered her ears and leaned against the wall of the storage shed as if doing so might conceal her from her pupil&#039;s shrill voice. Right now Ratthew Silverburg was marching down the soccer field on a singular mission: to interrupt her clandestine nicotine break. She watched the approaching rodent with placid spite.<br /><br />&quot;Mrs. Hatchet!&quot; Ratthew yelled out again, running around with stageworthy panic. &quot;Mrs. Hatchet, we have a bit of a situation!&quot;<br /><br /><em>Yes, I&#039;m well aware of that, Ratthew...</em><br /><br />Amanda had kept a keen eye on her students in the window, noting the growing flock of fifth-graders with mounting dread. Nothing good could possibly come from having that many children gathered in one place. Christ, what would it be this time? A bloody nose, a scraped knee? Did one of the little brats piss themselves again? Something more serious? A twisted ankle? Did somebody break their arm? Or worse... Amanda grimaced as other possibilities flickered through her mind. Someone found an orphaned kitten perhaps, or maybe a baby bird with a broken wing. Wouldn&#039;t that be just perfect? Another class mascot for her kids to nurse back to health before inevitably killing. Didn&#039;t they remember what happened last year with the hamster? Amanda shuddered. <em>She</em> remembered the hamster...<br /><br />Ratthew ran up to the edge of the field, already out of breath, paws padding against black asphalt as he surveyed the playground anxiously.<br /><br />&quot;Mrs. Hatchet, I don&#039;t see you!&quot;<br /><br />With a familiar sigh of acceptance, the thirty-year-old rottweiler took one last drag of her nicotine vaporizer before stowing it and stepping out from the storage shed with a wave. <br /><br />&quot;I&#039;m right here, Ratthew!&quot; she yelled back, flashing a reassuring smile.<br /><br /><em>God, I can&#039;t stand that little shit.</em><br /><br />Unbeknownst to Ratthew, it was he who was most directly responsible for his teacher&#039;s present nicotine dependence. Amanda had found him and Jake Gray-Torres examining the e-cigarette before school. Like any responsible adult, she had confiscated the device, replacing it with a stern lecture regarding the consequences of nicotine addiction--before swiftly becoming addicted herself. Of course, she <em>wanted</em> to quit, but there was something so devilishly enticing about a vaporizer that was thin enough to pass as a flash drive and produced no discernible scent. And those mango pods, Christ! It was like having an endless supply of calorie-free candy that got you high. Still, as a teacher, Amanda had an obligation to lead by example, which is why she had curtailed her vaping sessions to just five minutes during the school day. Just five minutes, that&#039;s all she asked for...<br /><br />As Amanda made her way across the playground a golden retriever pup playing basketball made the unfortunate mistake of stepping into her way.<br /><br />&quot;Dammit Billy, watch where you&#039;re going, don&#039;t you have any common sense?!&quot; she barked. The wide-eyed pup twisted around and nearly stumbled over backward as she pushed past him.<br /><br />&quot;Honey, you&#039;re getting irritable...maybe you ought to try the patch.&quot; Amanda&#039;s husband had suggested that earlier that morning. But Amanda didn&#039;t need a patch, what she needed were students who could be left unattended for five minutes! Just five fucking minutes!<br /><br />Amanda forced herself to smile as she approached the gasping rodent. She bent over him the boy, putting her paws in her lap as she spoke.<br /><br />&quot;Now what&#039;s all the fuss about?&quot; she asked warmly. She should have been nominated for an academy award.<br /><br />The rat stared back vacantly. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, opened it again, and realized he forgot what he was going to say. He sputtered a bit before taking several giant rips from his inhaler, gulping it down like an addict. Amanda waited patiently as the rodent stammered out a string of incoherent sentence fragments.<br /><br />&quot;Take your time dear...&quot; Amanda added as she tried not to gnash her teeth.<br /><br />&quot;It&#039;s B-B-Bran--It&#039;s B-B-Bran--&quot; Ratthew stuttered before abruptly pausing and wrinkling his nose. &quot;You use an inhaler too?&quot;<br /><br />Amanda glanced down to find the e-cigarette dangling out of her pocket, a wispy trail of vapor wafting up as the ON button squeezed against her pants. <br />&nbsp;<br />&quot;RATTHEW--&quot; Amanda began before quickly catching herself and lowering her voice. &quot;Erm. Why don&#039;t you tell me what&#039;s wrong, honey?&quot;<br /><br />The boy blinked for a moment as if momentarily forgetting he was asthmatic before once again fumbling with his inhaler.<br /><br />&quot;It&#039;s Bran-it&#039;s Bran--&quot; the fifth-grader wheezed, desperately pointing back to the field. Amanda rolled her eyes as she strode past him, quickening her pace after she noticed Jake standing among the crowd. Of course, that bloody dalmatian was behind this... But Amanda hesitated when she saw Jake&#039;s haunted expression. The other children turned back as well, their eyes darkened by fear. There was something eerie about it. With a mob like this, you had to expect some noise, screaming or cheering, a school-yard fight, or some boy chasing a girl around with dog-shit on a stick. But here a deathly silence had descended upon the group and as the crowd parted it was broken only by the sound of muffled sobbing. A lone cub sat in a puddle of damp grass, paws covering his face in shame. She recognized him immediately, the only fox enrolled at Fair Oaks Elementary School: Hazel Brandon Kiddo.<br /><br />The fox kit stared silently at her, pupils shimmering with tears. The boy was bottomless, tail curled between his thighs in a vain attempt to cover himself. His chronic erection still jutting out painfully: swollen and angry and horrible. The oversized knot bulged out like a tumor. His soiled shorts sat in a messy pile around his ankles, the fabric caked in dirt and tears, and other bodily fluids. A steady trickle of semen was still dribbling down his balls, making a puddle atop the padding of the well-soaked diaper.<br /><br />Amanda didn&#039;t know what to do. Nobody knew what to do. They just stood there. Watching the little fox cry.<br /><br /><br /><br />Peppercorn Kiddo tapped his foot-paw to the music as he drew. The middle-aged bear always found he could always get lost in his work. Outside the world was messy and ambiguous but here, the lines of his draft paper were clear and concise, problems waiting to be solved. A skylight here, a balcony there. Was this wall load-bearing? The requirements changed this morning, now we need two bathrooms instead of one.<br /><br />Pepper jumped as he grabbed his phone, buzzing with an incoming call.<br /><br />&quot;Peppercorn Kiddo, may I ask who&#039;s calling?&quot; Pepper squinted, ears perking as he fumbled with the nob of his radio. &quot;Yes, I&#039;m Hazel&#039;s legal guardian. What&#039;s this about?&quot;<br /><br />He listened for a moment, frowning. &quot;What kind of &#039;accident&#039;? Is he hurt? No. No, that won&#039;t be necessary. I&#039;m already on my way.&quot;<br /><br />The brown bear&#039;s frown grew deeper as he hit the call end button. Pepper glanced one last time at the desk littered with half-finished sketches before he gathered his keys and headed out the door.<br /><br /><span class='font_title'>Author&#039;s Notes</span><br />I recently reworked my telegram fan group, it&#039;s not longer invite-only. If you like my writing feel free <a href=\"https://t.me/+n1atq7oAQHdjNmJh\" rel=\"nofollow\">to join</a> and hang out with some of the coolest people around!<br /><br /><div class='align_right'><strong><em>// YOU ARE NOT VALID</em></strong></div><br /></span>",
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  "title": "Everybody Yiffs: Chapter One",
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