{"submission_id":"86595","keywords":[{"keyword_id":"199","keyword_name":"bear","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"23828"},{"keyword_id":"932","keyword_name":"death","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"4983"},{"keyword_id":"21","keyword_name":"dragon","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"80959"},{"keyword_id":"165","keyword_name":"male","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"639727"},{"keyword_id":"5892","keyword_name":"office","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"1025"},{"keyword_id":"9745","keyword_name":"revenge","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"644"},{"keyword_id":"1655","keyword_name":"torture","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"2595"},{"keyword_id":"164","keyword_name":"wolf","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"111545"}],"hidden":"t","scraps":"f","favorite":"f","favorites_count":"9","create_datetime":"2011-03-24 02:01:58.261722+01","create_datetime_usertime":"24 Mar 2011 02:01 CET","last_file_update_datetime":"2011-03-24 01:57:23.509928+01","last_file_update_datetime_usertime":"24 Mar 2011 01:57 CET","username":"FoxiePanda","user_id":"1270","user_icon_file_name":"144021_FoxiePanda_undiesicon.jpg","user_icon_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/usericons/large/144/144021_FoxiePanda_undiesicon.jpg","user_icon_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/usericons/medium/144/144021_FoxiePanda_undiesicon.jpg","user_icon_url_small":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/144/144021_FoxiePanda_undiesicon.jpg","file_name":"113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.rtf","file_url_full":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/full/113/113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.rtf","file_url_screen":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/113/113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.rtf","file_url_preview":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/113/113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.rtf","thumbnail_url_huge":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/113/113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.jpg","thumbnail_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/113/113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.jpg","thumbnail_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/113/113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.jpg","thumb_huge_x":"100","thumb_huge_y":"100","thumb_large_x":"100","thumb_large_y":"100","thumb_medium_x":"100","thumb_medium_y":"100","files":[{"file_id":"113091","file_name":"113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.rtf","file_url_full":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/full/113/113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.rtf","file_url_screen":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/113/113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.rtf","file_url_preview":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/113/113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.rtf","mimetype":"text/rtf","submission_id":"86595","user_id":"1270","submission_file_order":"0","full_size_x":null,"full_size_y":null,"screen_size_x":null,"screen_size_y":null,"preview_size_x":null,"preview_size_y":null,"initial_file_md5":"b06539e5908f9933a1d7d5b72a3daa06","full_file_md5":"b06539e5908f9933a1d7d5b72a3daa06","large_file_md5":"","small_file_md5":"","thumbnail_md5":"2641b06bf10de75eaee7e41203b0280b","deleted":"f","create_datetime":"2011-03-24 01:57:23.509928+01","create_datetime_usertime":"24 Mar 2011 01:57 CET","thumbnail_url_huge":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/113/113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.jpg","thumbnail_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/113/113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.jpg","thumbnail_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/113/113091_FoxietheWindragon_proper_office_decorum-_complete.jpg","thumb_huge_x":"100","thumb_huge_y":"100","thumb_large_x":"100","thumb_large_y":"100","thumb_medium_x":"100","thumb_medium_y":"100"}],"pools":[],"description":"At the office to have his job terminated, a wolf decides to finally let himself go and bring harm to the one who has tormented him for so long.\n\nComments are definitely welcomed. \n\nSpecial thanks to my editor and brother @WhyteYote Thank you so much. <3\n\nAlso, special thanks to @Wolfblade, @Wolfie, @Swampwulf, and @Konubadger for reading through this! Much love. <3","description_bbcode_parsed":"At the office to have his job terminated, a wolf decides to finally let himself go and bring harm to the one who has tormented him for so long.

Comments are definitely welcomed.

Special thanks to my editor and brother \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tWhyteYote\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tWhyteYote\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
Thank you so much. <3

Also, special thanks to \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tWolfblade\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tWolfblade\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
, \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tWolfie\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tWolfie\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
, \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tSwampwulf\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tSwampwulf\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
, and \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tKonubadger\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tKonubadger\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
for reading through this! Much love. <3","writing":"Opening my e-mail at work always causes me a bit of stress. I can feel the sweat build on my paws, as if I stuck them in a warm bucket of water. Then, they turn clammy. My tongue feels dry and I pant ever so slightly. Luckily, the office I reside in is closed off from other people. So, when I feel this anxiety, I don't feel as pressured. \n\nPlus, having my own space gives me the privacy I need to think. To plot. To deceive. To build up this hate that I feel, have felt. I look down at the bag beside my feet. Just a normal duffel bag, nothing too flashy. A small grin spreads over my muzzle, the wrinkles overtaking my face. I look back to my monitor, drag the mouse to the white envelope at the top left corner of my screen, and double-click. \n\t\nPASSWORD:\n\t\nClosing my eyes, I envision the letters in my head. They mean something to me, but I can't place it at the moment. It's too early. Too quick. My claws retract naturally, a habit of mine I learned when I started typing in high school. It helps when you need to get things done. However, they're useful when you need to complete other, more important, tasks. But, as I repeat in the back of my mind over and over, that is for a later time. Don't rush. Let it flow naturally. Placing the tips of my fingers on the keyboard, my bushy tail swishing slowly behind me, I type in the key. \n\t\nPASSWORD: ••••••\n\t\nI hit ENTER and the screen goes blank for a brief second before lighting up bright once more. My options stand before me.\n\t\nINBOX (2 New Messages)\nOUTBOX\nDRAFTS\nTRASH\n+FOLDERS\n\t\nThe mouse hovers for right now. I know what will happen once I click: INBOX (2 New Messages)\n\t\nMy damn boss. I clench my paws and take a deep breath, not realizing that my tail is lashing back and forth violently behind me. I think I have anger issues. Being a wolf does that. Being forty-years-old does that as well. There's a certain point that you finally reach that age when you look past all the bullshit and think about what needs to be done next. Having been pushed as a kid, as an adult, as a goddamn man, you realize that you just can't take it anymore. It's your turn to push back and get the revenge you deserve. \n\nI've known my boss for ten, very long, years. The anger I feel towards him has built over the past five, after I was promoted to Assistant Manager of the entire office. I oversee what he does and make sure that everything he sends out is okay, whether it be an order for another company, an e-mail, a personal letter to his cunt of a wife, or remembering to buy a present for his bastard child. I bet he doesn't even remember the little brat's name. Oh well. That's what you get for being a prick. Not wanting to overload myself so early, I click on the INBOX icon and wait for my e-mails to load.\n\t\nAnd, just as suspected, the one piece of mail I have been dreading sits right in front of my face. As bright as the damned sun. It was expected of course; my behavior, while manageable, has been quite erratic as of late. Five years, remember? My boss thinks I'm unstable. I am, but he doesn't know the extent of it all. The subject line stares me down as I read it not once, not twice, not three times. It's the last bit of fuel I need: Your Resignation.\n\t\nI open it and read what lies beneath the subject, the meat of the mail. He's so incompetent, he can barely manage to write a complete sentence:\n\t\nPlease see me in office immediately. \nJack Waters, Jr.\nManager \n784-580-9967 (Cell)\n784-777-1423 (Work)\n\t\nI know his cell phone isn't working right now. Not paying the bill will do that. That is also one of my jobs. Pay his fucking bills. I'm not your whoring wife, you sack of shit. Have that bitch do your work for you! After she comes back from getting eaten out by your brother of course. So many things I am aware of. So many things you don't see. Oh, but you'll see them soon enough, Jackie boy. I'll make sure of that. Everything will be clear. And I'll have the last laugh. \n\nPushing back from my chair, I turn off the monitor, grab the duffel bag and leave my office. However, I leave the computer on. Nothing incriminating against me anyways. Just a good assistant who did every single bit of work he was asked to do. Everyone knows it. They won't suspect me in any way, shape, or form. It's good to have morals when you're around people you know.\n\t\nIt doesn't take long before I'm standing right in front of his door. The gold plaque on the front spells out his name. How I've been wanting to shove it down his throat and watch him choke on it. That is such a petty way of doing things. It's too, well, simple. What I have in store is much more efficient and thought-out. Five years to get here. Just remember that. \n\nI feel like I want to snarl, growl, show my anger as soon as I walk in the door. He'd know something was up then. Not smart. Control yourself. You've done it enough to do it now. I take one last look around. Silence. We're the only two here. Did I forget to mention that? It's a Sunday morning. I feel angrier now. Oh yes, this will be delicious. I can almost taste it. I clench my paw into a fist and rap on the door. Not once, not twice, but three-\n\t\n“Come on in.” \n\t\nSuddenly, the duffel bag feels like a two-ton weight in my paw. I can feel the devices moving around, ready to complete their task. Still, in the back of my mind I feel uneasy. Not that this isn't the right thing to do--trust me, it is--but it could be done better. What if I finish and I regret not having brought something much more, what's the word, satisfying? This is what plagues me right now and it makes it feel as if I brought bricks with me instead. Too late to back out now. Just stick with the plan. It's foolish to make any changes. I reach for the knob—it's brass--and stop myself. Just in case. I clench it with the front of my shirt and twist it open. Stepping inside, I do the same as I close it behind me. \n\t\n“Good, you're here. Right on time. But, I'm sure we both know that's to be expected.”\n\t\nHe knows me well, but I know him better. I don't say anything, but I can feel the fur on the back of my neck standing on end. Chills run down my spine, adding to a cold sweat. He's not looking up at me. Whenever he needs to tell me something of importance, the bastard pretends to work on some paperwork. Probably doing Sudoku or something. It would surprise me if that were the case.\n\nI turn and walk towards the desk, keeping the bag lowered in case he looks up. But, as I expect, he doesn't. My tail curls upwards as I take a seat in the leather chair that sits idly in front of his desk. Cherry. It's beautiful. Picked out by me of course. Everything in this office is a product of my time. This leather chair especially. If feels especially comfortable today. One can only wonder why.\n\t\nWhat a surprise! He looks put together, for once in his miserable life. Giovanni Armani. I remember when I went to the tailor to get him sized for it. It's hard finding a suit that fits well when you're the size of a fucking house. Not saying all bears are big, just the majority of them are. Not an opinion, just a fact. Look it up. Taking one deep sniff, my eyes now falling on his, I smell soap. Absolutely wonderful! He's nice and clean. Life is quite peachy.\n\t\n“Thank you for coming today. I know it's a Sunday, but I appreciate it. From the bottom of my heart I do.”\n\t\nHis words mean nothing to me. They pass into one ear and right out the other. My muzzle twitches and I stay silent as he speaks. Don't rip his throat out. Don't. Don't. DON'T!\n\t\n“Well I'm sure you know why I brought you here. You've been part of this company for quite a long time, and with that, changes must be made. It's inevitable, but of great importance. As I know you have witnessed, the papers pass through this office every single day, a lot of our employees had to be let go. We hired new ones as quickly as possible, to keep up with the work flow, but it always hurts to let someone go that you have bonded with.” \n\t\nName one of them you cocksucker. \n\t\n“I've brought you here today for a reason. Not just for formalities, but out of respect. I'm sure you can appreciate that gesture.”\n\t\nI nod and look down at my lap. Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see the duffel bag. It's ready to be opened. It can't wait any longer. It's that time.\n\t\n“Well, I think it's time that I spilled the beans. I hope you're ready to list-” \n\t\nAs a reaction to his words, I hold up a paw, motioning for him to stop talking. It's giving me a headache, but I don't say that out loud. He goes silent. So many surprises today. I grab the bag's strap and lift it up, setting it down on my lap. He looks at it, then back at me. He's confused. I can see that. What is in there? Why did you bring it here with you? Why didn't I notice it? Well, you're going to see what's in there soon enough. I brought it here because you forced me to do so. There was no other choice. And finally, you didn't notice it because you never notice anything, even if it's sitting in front of your fat fucking head. It's a skill you've acquired over the years. You should have won an award.\n\t\n“I already know what you're going to say, Jack, and I wish to extend my gratitude to you, if you will allow me to do so. Would that be alright with you?\n\t\nI pat the bag and smile at him. Something I rarely do. He must find it genuine, because he returns one. Goddamn it makes him look ugly. I know what's behind that mask. Nothing but lies and shit. \n\t\n“But of course! I'm happy to know you're accepting this so willingly. It was a big decision on my part, you see, but I am quite positive I have made the right step for this company's future! So, what is it you have for me?”\n\t\n“Well that would ruin the look on your face, now wouldn't it, Jackie boy? Close your eyes and once I give you the okay, you can open them. I know it seems childish of me to request this of you, a proper businessman like yourself is far above this silliness, but amuse this wolf if you'd be so kind.”\n\t\nSeeing the slightest tilt of his head, I know I have to be quick with my words. If I hesitate, he might become suspicious and decline my offer. I do have something in the bag that would take care of my problem in the blink of an eye. However, in all reality, it would cause quite the mess and, more importantly, it would be ugly. What I have in store is even more so, but it will be beautiful in the end. Sort of how Giger's art is beautiful. In a sick, twisted sort of fashion. That's what I want.\n\t\n“I am sure you must not trust me, to an extent. You do not know what is in this bag and I can understand your nervousness, but it's such a small request. If you wish to decline, I would underst-”\n\t\n“No not at all! I apologize if I came across that way. My curiosity gets the better of me sometimes. I can and will close my eyes for you. It is the least I can do for having you come in on a Sunday.”\n\t\nAnd, with that, he closes his eyes. His wrinkles form once more, but this time they make my heart leap. I have succeeded! Hallelujah! Praise all that is or isn't holy! And to think I am an atheist. There must be a God. Everything is going according to the plan. My plan. Never once did I doubt myself.\n\t\n“Absolutely wonderful Jack. Now-” Placing the tip of two fingers on either side of the bag's zipper, I pull it back slowly. That sound is so familiar. So gracious. A grin paints my muzzle. How could it not? “-let's begin.”\n\n\nBy the time his eyelids begin to flutter, I have already transformed his room into my chamber. It's much darker, every window sealed over with tarpaulins. I had to run back outside to my car to retrieve those, considering the pieces were too big to fit in the duffel bag. The chairs have been pushed to the side of the room, out of the way, as the desk sits perfectly in the middle. The light, when turned on, shines right down on my subject. Gives me a much better area to work with. It's not good when you can't see every little thing you're doing. You cannot appreciate your work as much. I appreciate my work. Primary and secondary.\n\t\nHe's strapped down to the desk now, his large paws and feet nearly going over the edges, but luckily they don't. Right now I only have him tied down with four different belts, one for each paw, that I bought from the local Sears. Cheap, but effective enough to hold someone down when sedated. However, he's a bear. I could use twenty of them when he's fully aware and it wouldn't make a difference. Not one bit. That's why I have something that will keep him down, even though he could easily get out of it as well. It'd hurt more of course. \n\t\nI kneel down in front of my duffel bag, giving the zipper playful tug as I open it up, revealing the contents. Those shivers again. I don't need to take everything out just yet, let it reveal itself when the time comes, when it is necessary. For now, I pull out a small sandwich baggy, empty save for four, thick nails. Stainless steel. These were not easy to come by for some reason, had to go to five different appliance stores to get this size, but I think it will do the job. Also, out comes the hammer. Red grip, black metal. It looked pretty. Didn't need anything fancy anyways. My blood cools. Shivers once more. \n\t\nPulling the baggy open, I extract one single nail, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger. My tail wags like a cub's would. After getting an ice cream cone. After seeing Santa Paws for the first time. After getting an “A” on an important math test. After getting praised by their parents. Mine's not wagging for any of those reasons of course. It makes me wonder if any of the young ones will ever get to this point. How joyous that sounds to my older ears. Take back what you deserve. Do NOT let anyone take what you love away. Not that I loved my job. I mean, I loved the pay. The pay was always good. Money makes the world go round. Take that from me and, well, I get even. \n\t\nThe tip of the nail lines up at the lowest part of his paw, the most sensitive from what I understand. I hope I'm right on this. If he doesn't feel everything I do, I will be quite disappointed. Pressing the tip into the pad, holding it as steady as possible, I pick up the hammer. One swift motion and in it goes. One slip, the bones will probably snap and poke out of his flesh. That would be a rush. I take a deep breath and eye my target, lifting the hammer as I do. \n\nNow that I think about it, I'm crucifying this bear. Just as Christ was. I don't believe in that shit; just a fairy tale. However, the thought pops into my brain, causing me to chuckle. What a shame, I whisper to myself. Unlike that poor bastard, you won't be saved from your sins. You'll rot. Letting my breath out, I slam the hammer down, driving the nail into the large paw beneath me.\n\t\nJust a slight quiver from him. It registered, but not enough to make him wake up. Hopefully this next nail will do the trick. I want him to be up for at least part of this process. The fear in his eyes. Dammit, I'm hard already? As I grab a second nail, the hammer having been put down on the table, I brush my paw against the stretching fabric. A small wet spot darkens the front. I can't see it, but I do feel it. I don't think I have ever, in all the times I have done this, gotten hard so quickly. Shit, I might cum before I get the fourth nail in. One quick adjustment to the front of my pants and I move to the other side of the table. Nail in the same exact spot, line up the hammer. SLAM!\n\t\nEyes snap open. I jump from this, nearly tripping over myself. That would have been bad. He's starting to struggle now. That nail definitely did it. I almost wonder what it would feel like to have that happen to me, but then again, why would I? His legs flail and I can see him trying to move his upper paws about, to no avail of course. Those motherfuckers will stay in place. \n\nPools of blood begin to form underneath and it is at this point I feel that all too familiar feeling. My eyes snap shut and my paws move to my throbbing bulge, warm spurts splashing from the tip. It's a lot this time. Wow. Does my absolute hate for him cause the intensity to multiply to unseen numbers? Whatever it is, I like it. A lot. I nearly cum again as he tries to scream, guttural noises emanating from his throat. If he keeps this up, he'll go into shock. Can't have that happen. \n\t\n“Stop moving around, cub! Act like a fucking adult for once!”\n\t\nHis body goes still. I'm sure he realizes what is happening right now; who masterminded this whole thing. I wonder if he's repeating my words in his head, over and over. \n\t\n“Y-You...”\n\t\nHis first word causes me to tingle below once again. \n\t\n“That's right Jackie boy. It's me. It was me after all. Did you see this coming? Huh? I bet you didn't! Wanna know why?”\n\t\nLooking closer, I can see his body shake, he's losing control. It gets better as time passes on, when organs begin to fail left and right. That's when I can barely contain myself, having to let loose every few minutes. I remember the first time I tortured someone, how scared shitless I felt during, but how invigorated I felt afterwords. Touching my cock for the first time, staring down at the limbless, dead body on the floor, I masturbated for about fifteen minutes until those pearly drops of white splattered the torso. That's when I knew I couldn't stop. I think I still have his head... Well it is to be known, anyone who wronged me would get this treatment. Not always as extravagant. Some deserved extra special attention from me and, as always, I was more than happy to oblige them. \n\t\n“P-P-P-Please... help...”\n\t\n“I am helping you, silly! By doing this, no one will ever have to deal with you ever again! Isn't that just absolutely wonderful? Ridding the world one asshole at a time, that's my motto!”\n\t\nHe moves his head back and forth, probably trying to get a glimpse at me to beg. I love it when they do this. As if I care. I slip a paw down the front of my pants, feeling the semen coating my fur. Pulling free, I walk over to him and hold it up so he can see what I have done. His eyes widen and I think he finally realizes how fucked he is. It's then that I slap him across the face, letting my seed soak into his fur. I don't have to say anything after that. The rest is up to him. For my amusement. I hope he has some beautiful gems to give me. \n\nI go over to my bag and look inside, grunting in annoyance as I realize I left my camera at home. Shit. SHIT SHIT SHIT! How could I forget something so goddamned important!? What was I thinking? Breathe. No matter. This is just a minor inconvenience. I don't need to film it. Besides, there is no possible way I will ever forget what happens here today.\n\t\nThe bear's moans and grunts of pain start to annoy me and I feel like I am starting to lose my cool. Fucking camera. I then realize the hammer is still clenched in my paw. Any tighter and it would probably snap in half. With a swift turn, I go over to the bear and snarl in his face, spittle coating his muzzle as I scream my lungs out.\n\t\n“Will you shut the fuck up!!! I'm trying to concentrate here!!! It's not everyday someone makes a fucking masterpiece that they can look back on and feel a sense of fucking pride!!! Fuck!!!”\n\t\nBut he just won't stop. His moans are echoing off the walls and bouncing inside my head. If I don't shatter mentally, I'll be shocked. I need to regain control here. I look down at the hammer, then back at him. His feet are still free, not yet pinned down. My heart leaps in my chest as I make my move. You are the mastermind here. I watch as his feet writhe ever so slightly before me. The nails are an option, but this needs to be quick. No more waiting.\n\t\n“SHUT... UP!!!”\n\t\nThe hammer is raised and, before I know it, I've snapped his ankles in half, the splintered bones poking out of the flesh like some sort of greeting. He goes quiet then, pain no longer registering, which, in turn, causes him to shut his fucking trap. Already I have done enough for anyone to go into shock, yet he is surprising me with each passing second. Even through my worst moment, he is still with me. I feel a warm trickle down my leg, slow and sticky. I just came again without even touching myself. This is indeed my most special piece of work. \n\t\n“That's a lot better,” I say with a hint of lust in my voice, setting the hammer down by his now useless feet. “No more screaming. Is that fair, Jackie boy? If you choose to, however, I'll resort to pouring lye down your throat until there's a beautiful hole for me to fuck. Got it!?”\n\t\nJack is looking in my general direction, but I know he doesn't “see” me. Judging by the look of his eyes, he is in another world at the moment; the shock driving him deeper and deeper into his subconscious. Good. Let him stay like this for a few more moments. When I need him around for the most important part, I will bring him back. I hope he starts to cry then. If that doesn't get me off again, I don't know what will. \n\nSpeaking of which, I need to get out of these pants. I take them off with the utmost care, even going so far as folding them and setting them down on the nearest chair. They are ruined from my cum, but that is alright. It will be a treasured reminder of what I did. \n\t\nTurning back, I notice the tent in his pants. The adrenaline from all of this has given him quite the hard-on. Looks a bit painful, judging at how tight the fabric is. My own erection is throbbing between my legs, waiting for the next spark to send it into overdrive. It is then I come to the realization that I do not have much left to do. That saddens me. It always seems to go by a lot quicker than expected. A damn shame really. Oh well. As long as this next part goes flawlessly, it will be my most glorious masterpiece. \n\t\nMy paws work over the tented fabric, actually quite curious as to what his cock looks like. It's definitely big, no questions there. I undo his belt first and work on the button and zipper next. He's too fucking big for me to lift and pull them off, so I go to my duffel bag and grab a nice pair of scissors. The sharpest you can buy. Well, that's what it said on the television. \n\nVery swiftly, and efficiently I might add, I slice through the fabric and pull them clean off, taking his undies, a snug pair of boxers briefs, one size too small, with them as well. The shape of his dick is quite nice; fairly thick, about seven inches long at a guess, swollen tip. That's not what I want though. I lower my gaze just enough to see that massive set of balls. About the size of my fist. Shit. Jackpot.\n\t\nHis eyes stare upwards, probably trying to see if God is going to save him anytime soon. Is this just a complete guess? Of course it is. However, I like thinking about the best options in these types of situations. All the little things attribute to getting me off multiple times in the end. I want to say something to him right now, but I decide against it. There is no God! If there was, people like me and especially you would not exist in this world. Don't want to bring myself into the mix. It's not fair to me after all, so I stay quiet. \n\t\nBack to the bag I go, kneeling beside it. Even though there's not much in here, it was still a necessary investment and I am thankful for it. I reach in and pull out the heaviest item, a mini-sledgehammer I bought at the local hardware store near by home. Friendly people they are. \n\t\n“Just doing some home maintenance! This will come quite in handy,” I said as I handed them a ten and a five. They smiled back of course, processing my order, completely unaware of my true nature. \n\nIt must weigh about five, six pounds at the most. I am doing a “type” of maintenance. You could call it, what's the word...landscaping. His eyes are still looking up as I walk back to him, holding the sledgehammer in front of his face. He looks past it of course. Nothing registers anymore. The anticipation is building and I'm ready to use it on him. Well, a part of him at least.\n\t\nThose balls of his are starting to tease me. The size makes my heart pound against my chest and I see even more stickiness spurt from my tip like a fountain. My legs tremble, but I stand my ground, the sledgehammer feeling even heavier at this moment. Usually I would suckle the balls into my muzzle and grind them between my teeth before chomping down fully, feeling those wonderful jewels split against my tongue and gush out their guts. \n\nIt's a very wonderful texture, sort of like whipped butter when you crush it just right. The taste, however, is something that one must experience on their own. My words would not do them justice. Other times, I merely slice open the sac and pull the balls out of their home, letting them rest on my tongue, rolling them around and enjoying the sounds of my victim as he begs for me to have mercy and not--CHOMP! My teeth slice right through the vas deferens, the tubing, like butter. They roll around in my muzzle for a few more seconds before slipping right down my throat like an oversized Lima bean. I prefer chewing the most, but I occasionally get the urge to swallow them whole. Either way, I am treated to a most glorious sensation and taste. \n\t\nHowever, today will be different. I have something a little more cruel planned. Walking to the edge of the table, near his feet, I stand and eye his balls, making sure they are at a good enough position for the hammer to strike. They are, of course. Lifting my gaze for just a brief second, I watch as pre leaks from his swollen tip. \n\nHis body doesn't know how to comprehend these new sensations, so it acts on random responses. Maybe he'll cum from this; give him that last hurrah before I neuter his worthless ass. I hope he doesn't. Don't want to give him the satisfaction of such a feeling. My arm raises straight in the air, the metal glistening in the light as I hone in on my target. Deep breath. Eyes closed. 3...2...1! \n\t\nSPLAT! Just as expected, his nuts explode as soon as I make contact. The sac rips open and the guts fly out from all sides, splattering the table and even the floor. My eyes widen as I feel a good amount of the nut butter hit my forehead. I lift a paw and wipe the mess away with the tips of my fingers. Just the right consistency this time around. I greedily shove the fingers in my muzzle and lick them clean, that musky taste overpowering. He might be one shit of a person, but damn his nuts taste magnificent. Not wanting to forget one of the best parts, I lift the hammer and clean that with my tongue as well, my cock aching to be touched as I enjoy my treat. Stop yourself! This time you need to change up your act. Remember what he did!\n\t\n“You're right.”\n\t\nA smirk spreads across my muzzle as I wipe up a big glop of the mess. It looks so good that I am tempted to finish it off, but I know better. I walk back to the bear's head, surprised to see his eyes are staring right at me, completely bloodshot. That's the look of a man who is no longer a man. Once those precious orbs are taken from you, you're just another bitch. I grip him by the fur on the top of his head, yanking it up as I hold my paw near his muzzle, letting out my most dominating growl. It always gets results, though on occasion I do get resistance. This time it was the former. \n\t\n“Lick up every last bit, Jack. I want you to enjoy it as much as I do. If you don't, well, I'll just have to force it down your throat. Either bust out your teeth with the sledgehammer or cut open your throat and-”\n\t\nI'm caught off guard as the bear leans forward and begins lapping up his own nut butter. His eyes are closed and you can see the grimace in his expression, but he does it with no hesitation whatsoever. This turns me on quite a bit, but I can only imagine his reason for doing so. He wants me to spare him and that is a no-can-do. No matter how much I enjoy seeing this, my pride takes precedence over his life any day of the week. \n\nAs soon as every bit of goo is clear of my paw, I turn away from him and walk back to the bag. My last item is my favorite. The first tool I ever used. The blade is still as shiny as it was that fateful day, when I knew what had to be done. Sharp to the touch, a simple handsaw is what I clench tightly. \n\t\n“We're almost done here, Jack. This has been one of the crowning achievements in my entire life. It's a shame really. If only you weren't such a horrible person. If only you didn't fire me today.”\n\t\nI eye my new target and once I reach the table, I grip the pulsing length in my paw tightly. No balls, so what is the use of having a cock? His muzzle opens as if he's trying to say something to me, but only gasps and whimpers come out in the end. Giving that piece of meat one hard twist to the right, my paw out of harms away, I press the toothed blade against the skin and begin sawing it clean off. It's beautiful watching it go to work. \n\nThe skin tears, the muscle is sliced through with no trouble, blood spurting from the now flat surface of where his member used to be. I hold it in my paw tightly as the last bit of skin rips. A person's penis is quite hefty when it's no longer connected to home. This one is no exception. I have no use for this either of course, so, while he struggles even more to speak to me, I shove his member in his muzzle, down to where I'm sure the tip is hitting the back of his throat. It just needs to stay there for a few more moments. \n\t\nThe need to get off this one last time cannot be contained any longer. The urge has passed beyond “want” quite some time ago. Having him alive this long was necessary, but in the end, when I think about it now, quite aggravating. \n\t\n“P-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-”\n\t\nThat was the last thing I ever heard Jack say as I grip the fur on his head once more and begin sawing through his meaty neck, cutting through every single, vein, muscle, nerve and bone that would connect him to his body. The blood is plentiful this time around, but not shocking. He is a bear after all. His body thrashes about as much as it is allowed; the belts do a wonderful job of holding him as the final swipe of the saw disconnects his head. It must weigh about ten pounds; just a guess. Lifting it, my eyes meet his and I can tell he is still alive, but just barely. Good. This last part will be fun for the both of us. I can guarantee that. \n\t\n“Time to go, Jackie boy. It has been a pleasure.”\n\t\nWho could ever forget the look of the first disembodied head they fucked? No one, that's who. Those memories come rushing back as I remove his cock from between his lips. His teeth have clenched down just enough so that when I pull it free, it rips a bit of skin off the bottom half, leaving the muscle exposed. No matter. It all goes in the same place regardless. \n\nHe sees two things before he is completely dead. The first is his own cock jabbing down into his left eye, bursting it instantly as I press it in as far as I can without damaging the brain. This is quite a hot scene, even after all my years. It never gets old in my opinion. Some of the eye gunk leaks from around the shaft, but ultimately stays inside of his head for the most part. The second thing he sees? I am sure you can guess what it is without having me say so. \n\t\nMy tip punches right through his right eyeball, the juices lubing up my length nicely. The feeling is warm and a bit sticky, but that is to be expected. I don't waste any time though. If I wait too long, he'll die before I can fuck his head to death. Making sure my grip is as tight as possible, I drive my cock in right to the hilt, feeling half of it sink right through his brain, that hot meat surrounding it from all sides. Brain matter feels good no matter whose it is. Sort of a spongy texture, but nonetheless fun to fuck. \n\nHe's dead as I work my hips back and forth, fucking his eye socket and brain, but that's okay with me. I felt the last movement of his muzzle against my balls once I buried my entire length inside his head. That feeling is one I will never forget, even today. I throw my head back and let out a deep, lustful howl as my hot, sticky milk floods his head, coating his brain in the mess. I stay like this for a few moments, overwhelmed with pleasure. My chest rises and falls with each breath and I feel tears begin to pour down my face. What a wonderful day this has been. So...wonderful.\n\n\nJack Waters, Jr., sits in a bag on the floor of his office as I set his room back up, making sure everything is in its original place. I can't exactly leave a whole body for someone to discover, now can I? It would take hours for someone to put all of those pieces back together. And damn, is he one heavy son of a bitch! Just need to be careful when I drag it out of here. Don't want any blood trails on the carp- \n\t\nThe phone rings and my heart leaps in my chest. Who the fuck would be calling him right now? Who would need to on a fucking Sunday? My eyes are fixated on the phone as it rings once, twice, three times and finally, the answering machine picks it up. I know that voice and I roll my eyes as I hear it. Foxie. Only he would call our boss on a Sunday. Such a fucking ass kisser, such a-\n\t\n“-make sure you congratulate him for me, Jack. I can only imagine how excited he is to be the new manager of this company, but he seems to have a good head on his shoulders and I will be more than happy to follow his command. But anyways, I need to get myself some lunch. Have a good day and call me back if you get the chance. See you later!”\n\t\nI hear that click and the answering machine shuts off, flashing a red “1” every 3 seconds. Hearing what I just heard would have made this day null and void, a complete waste, if I still didn't harbor such hate for my ex-boss. So now I have quite the position. He gave me his job. I can say I respect him for that even now. Other than that, what I did was necessary for this job. It was necessary for me to stay sane. And as I sit at my new desk on Monday, Foxie sitting in front of me asking how everything went, I explain very calmly that Jack was absolutely wonderful throughout the whole ordeal. \n\t\n“You're quite lucky! I would kill for a position like this!” said Foxie, a hint of laughter in his voice. \n\t\nMy tail swishes back and forth, a grin on my muzzle. “Oh Foxie, you have no idea.”\n\n\nThe End?\n\nCompleted on: March 13, 2011 at 10:31 PM.\n","writing_bbcode_parsed":"Opening my e-mail at work always causes me a bit of stress. I can feel the sweat build on my paws, as if I stuck them in a warm bucket of water. Then, they turn clammy. My tongue feels dry and I pant ever so slightly. Luckily, the office I reside in is closed off from other people. So, when I feel this anxiety, I don't feel as pressured.

Plus, having my own space gives me the privacy I need to think. To plot. To deceive. To build up this hate that I feel, have felt. I look down at the bag beside my feet. Just a normal duffel bag, nothing too flashy. A small grin spreads over my muzzle, the wrinkles overtaking my face. I look back to my monitor, drag the mouse to the white envelope at the top left corner of my screen, and double-click.
\t
PASSWORD:
\t
Closing my eyes, I envision the letters in my head. They mean something to me, but I can't place it at the moment. It's too early. Too quick. My claws retract naturally, a habit of mine I learned when I started typing in high school. It helps when you need to get things done. However, they're useful when you need to complete other, more important, tasks. But, as I repeat in the back of my mind over and over, that is for a later time. Don't rush. Let it flow naturally. Placing the tips of my fingers on the keyboard, my bushy tail swishing slowly behind me, I type in the key.
\t
PASSWORD: ••••••
\t
I hit ENTER and the screen goes blank for a brief second before lighting up bright once more. My options stand before me.
\t
INBOX (2 New Messages)
OUTBOX
DRAFTS
TRASH
+FOLDERS
\t
The mouse hovers for right now. I know what will happen once I click:  INBOX (2 New Messages)
\t
My damn boss. I clench my paws and take a deep breath, not realizing that my tail is lashing back and forth violently behind me. I think I have anger issues. Being a wolf does that. Being forty-years-old does that as well. There's a certain point that you finally reach that age when you look past all the bullshit and think about what needs to be done next. Having been pushed as a kid, as an adult, as a goddamn man, you realize that you just can't take it anymore. It's your turn to push back and get the revenge you deserve.

I've known my boss for ten, very long, years. The anger I feel towards him has built over the past five, after I was promoted to Assistant Manager of the entire office. I oversee what he does and make sure that everything he sends out is okay, whether it be an order for another company, an e-mail, a personal letter to his cunt of a wife, or remembering to buy a present for his bastard child. I bet he doesn't even remember the little brat's name. Oh well. That's what you get for being a prick. Not wanting to overload myself so early, I click on the INBOX icon and wait for my e-mails to load.
\t
And, just as suspected, the one piece of mail I have been dreading sits right in front of my face. As bright as the damned sun. It was expected of course; my behavior, while manageable, has been quite erratic as of late. Five years, remember? My boss thinks I'm unstable. I am, but he doesn't know the extent of it all. The subject line stares me down as I read it not once, not twice, not three times. It's the last bit of fuel I need:  Your Resignation.
\t
I open it and read what lies beneath the subject, the meat of the mail. He's so incompetent, he can barely manage to write a complete sentence:
\t
Please see me in office immediately.
Jack Waters, Jr.
Manager
784-580-9967 (Cell)
784-777-1423 (Work)
\t
I know his cell phone isn't working right now. Not paying the bill will do that. That is also one of my jobs. Pay his fucking bills. I'm not your whoring wife, you sack of shit. Have that bitch do your work for you! After she comes back from getting eaten out by your brother of course. So many things I am aware of. So many things you don't see. Oh, but you'll see them soon enough, Jackie boy. I'll make sure of that. Everything will be clear. And I'll have the last laugh.

Pushing back from my chair, I turn off the monitor, grab the duffel bag and leave my office. However, I leave the computer on. Nothing incriminating against me anyways. Just a good assistant who did every single bit of work he was asked to do. Everyone knows it. They won't suspect me in any way, shape, or form. It's good to have morals when you're around people you know.
\t
It doesn't take long before I'm standing right in front of his door. The gold plaque on the front spells out his name. How I've been wanting to shove it down his throat and watch him choke on it. That is such a petty way of doing things. It's too, well, simple. What I have in store is much more efficient and thought-out. Five years to get here. Just remember that.

I feel like I want to snarl, growl, show my anger as soon as I walk in the door. He'd know something was up then. Not smart. Control yourself. You've done it enough to do it now. I take one last look around. Silence. We're the only two here. Did I forget to mention that? It's a Sunday morning. I feel angrier now. Oh yes, this will be delicious. I can almost taste it. I clench my paw into a fist and rap on the door. Not once, not twice, but three-
\t
“Come on in.”
\t
Suddenly, the duffel bag feels like a two-ton weight in my paw. I can feel the devices moving around, ready to complete their task. Still, in the back of my mind I feel uneasy. Not that this isn't the right thing to do--trust me, it is--but it could be done better. What if I finish and I regret not having brought something much more, what's the word, satisfying? This is what plagues me right now and it makes it feel as if I brought bricks with me instead. Too late to back out now. Just stick with the plan. It's foolish to make any changes. I reach for the knob—it's brass--and stop myself. Just in case. I clench it with the front of my shirt and twist it open. Stepping inside, I do the same as I close it behind me.
\t
“Good, you're here. Right on time. But, I'm sure we both know that's to be expected.”
\t
He knows me well, but I know him better. I don't say anything, but I can feel the fur on the back of my neck standing on end. Chills run down my spine, adding to a cold sweat. He's not looking up at me. Whenever he needs to tell me something of importance, the bastard pretends to work on some paperwork. Probably doing Sudoku or something. It would surprise me if that were the case.

I turn and walk towards the desk, keeping the bag lowered in case he looks up. But, as I expect, he doesn't. My tail curls upwards as I take a seat in the leather chair that sits idly in front of his desk. Cherry. It's beautiful. Picked out by me of course. Everything in this office is a product of my time. This leather chair especially. If feels especially comfortable today. One can only wonder why.
\t
What a surprise! He looks put together, for once in his miserable life. Giovanni Armani. I remember when I went to the tailor to get him sized for it. It's hard finding a suit that fits well when you're the size of a fucking house. Not saying all bears are big, just the majority of them are. Not an opinion, just a fact. Look it up. Taking one deep sniff, my eyes now falling on his, I smell soap. Absolutely wonderful! He's nice and clean. Life is quite peachy.
\t
“Thank you for coming today. I know it's a Sunday, but I appreciate it. From the bottom of my heart I do.”
\t
His words mean nothing to me. They pass into one ear and right out the other. My muzzle twitches and I stay silent as he speaks. Don't rip his throat out. Don't. Don't. DON'T!
\t
“Well I'm sure you know why I brought you here. You've been part of this company for quite a long time, and with that, changes must be made. It's inevitable, but of great importance. As I know you have witnessed, the papers pass through this office every single day, a lot of our employees had to be let go. We hired new ones as quickly as possible, to keep up with the work flow, but it always hurts to let someone go that you have bonded with.”
\t
Name one of them you cocksucker.
\t
“I've brought you here today for a reason. Not just for formalities, but out of respect. I'm sure you can appreciate that gesture.”
\t
I nod and look down at my lap. Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see the duffel bag. It's ready to be opened. It can't wait any longer. It's that time.
\t
“Well, I think it's time that I spilled the beans. I hope you're ready to list-”
\t
As a reaction to his words, I hold up a paw, motioning for him to stop talking. It's giving me a headache, but I don't say that out loud. He goes silent. So many surprises today. I grab the bag's strap and lift it up, setting it down on my lap. He looks at it, then back at me. He's confused. I can see that. What is in there? Why did you bring it here with you? Why didn't I notice it? Well, you're going to see what's in there soon enough. I brought it here because you forced me to do so. There was no other choice. And finally, you didn't notice it because you never notice anything, even if it's sitting in front of your fat fucking head. It's a skill you've acquired over the years. You should have won an award.
\t
“I already know what you're going to say, Jack, and I wish to extend my gratitude to you, if you will allow me to do so. Would that be alright with you?
\t
I pat the bag and smile at him. Something I rarely do. He must find it genuine, because he returns one. Goddamn it makes him look ugly. I know what's behind that mask. Nothing but lies and shit.
\t
“But of course! I'm happy to know you're accepting this so willingly. It was a big decision on my part, you see, but I am quite positive I have made the right step for this company's future! So, what is it you have for me?”
\t
“Well that would ruin the look on your face, now wouldn't it, Jackie boy? Close your eyes and once I give you the okay, you can open them. I know it seems childish of me to request this of you, a proper businessman like yourself is far above this silliness, but amuse this wolf if you'd be so kind.”
\t
Seeing the slightest tilt of his head, I know I have to be quick with my words. If I hesitate, he might become suspicious and decline my offer. I do have something in the bag that would take care of my problem in the blink of an eye. However, in all reality, it would cause quite the mess and, more importantly, it would be ugly. What I have in store is even more so, but it will be beautiful in the end. Sort of how Giger's art is beautiful. In a sick, twisted sort of fashion. That's what I want.
\t
“I am sure you must not trust me, to an extent. You do not know what is in this bag and I can understand your nervousness, but it's such a small request. If you wish to decline, I would underst-”
\t
“No not at all! I apologize if I came across that way. My curiosity gets the better of me sometimes. I can and will close my eyes for you. It is the least I can do for having you come in on a Sunday.”
\t
And, with that, he closes his eyes. His wrinkles form once more, but this time they make my heart leap. I have succeeded! Hallelujah! Praise all that is or isn't holy! And to think I am an atheist. There must be a God. Everything is going according to the plan. My plan. Never once did I doubt myself.
\t
“Absolutely wonderful Jack. Now-” Placing the tip of two fingers on either side of the bag's zipper, I pull it back slowly. That sound is so familiar. So gracious. A grin paints my muzzle. How could it not? “-let's begin.”


By the time his eyelids begin to flutter, I have already transformed his room into my chamber. It's much darker, every window sealed over with tarpaulins. I had to run back outside to my car to retrieve those, considering the pieces were too big to fit in the duffel bag. The chairs have been pushed to the side of the room, out of the way, as the desk sits perfectly in the middle. The light, when turned on, shines right down on my subject. Gives me a much better area to work with. It's not good when you can't see every little thing you're doing. You cannot appreciate your work as much. I appreciate my work. Primary and secondary.
\t
He's strapped down to the desk now, his large paws and feet nearly going over the edges, but luckily they don't. Right now I only have him tied down with four different belts, one for each paw, that I bought from the local Sears. Cheap, but effective enough to hold someone down when sedated. However, he's a bear. I could use twenty of them when he's fully aware and it wouldn't make a difference. Not one bit. That's why I have something that will keep him down, even though he could easily get out of it as well. It'd hurt more of course.
\t
I kneel down in front of my duffel bag, giving the zipper playful tug as I open it up, revealing the contents. Those shivers again. I don't need to take everything out just yet, let it reveal itself when the time comes, when it is necessary. For now, I pull out a small sandwich baggy, empty save for four, thick nails. Stainless steel. These were not easy to come by for some reason, had to go to five different appliance stores to get this size, but I think it will do the job. Also, out comes the hammer. Red grip, black metal. It looked pretty. Didn't need anything fancy anyways. My blood cools. Shivers once more.
\t
Pulling the baggy open, I extract one single nail, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger. My tail wags like a cub's would. After getting an ice cream cone. After seeing Santa Paws for the first time. After getting an “A” on an important math test. After getting praised by their parents. Mine's not wagging for any of those reasons of course. It makes me wonder if any of the young ones will ever get to this point. How joyous that sounds to my older ears. Take back what you deserve. Do NOT let anyone take what you love away. Not that I loved my job. I mean, I loved the pay. The pay was always good. Money makes the world go round. Take that from me and, well, I get even.
\t
The tip of the nail lines up at the lowest part of his paw, the most sensitive from what I understand. I hope I'm right on this. If he doesn't feel everything I do, I will be quite disappointed. Pressing the tip into the pad, holding it as steady as possible, I pick up the hammer. One swift motion and in it goes. One slip, the bones will probably snap and poke out of his flesh. That would be a rush. I take a deep breath and eye my target, lifting the hammer as I do.

Now that I think about it, I'm crucifying this bear. Just as Christ was. I don't believe in that shit; just a fairy tale. However, the thought pops into my brain, causing me to chuckle. What a shame, I whisper to myself. Unlike that poor bastard, you won't be saved from your sins. You'll rot. Letting my breath out, I slam the hammer down, driving the nail into the large paw beneath me.
\t
Just a slight quiver from him. It registered, but not enough to make him wake up. Hopefully this next nail will do the trick. I want him to be up for at least part of this process. The fear in his eyes. Dammit, I'm hard already? As I grab a second nail, the hammer having been put down on the table, I brush my paw against the stretching fabric. A small wet spot darkens the front. I can't see it, but I do feel it. I don't think I have ever, in all the times I have done this, gotten hard so quickly. Shit, I might cum before I get the fourth nail in. One quick adjustment to the front of my pants and I move to the other side of the table. Nail in the same exact spot, line up the hammer. SLAM!
\t
Eyes snap open. I jump from this, nearly tripping over myself. That would have been bad. He's starting to struggle now. That nail definitely did it. I almost wonder what it would feel like to have that happen to me, but then again, why would I? His legs flail and I can see him trying to move his upper paws about, to no avail of course. Those motherfuckers will stay in place.

Pools of blood begin to form underneath and it is at this point I feel that all too familiar feeling. My eyes snap shut and my paws move to my throbbing bulge, warm spurts splashing from the tip. It's a lot this time. Wow. Does my absolute hate for him cause the intensity to multiply to unseen numbers? Whatever it is, I like it. A lot. I nearly cum again as he tries to scream, guttural noises emanating from his throat. If he keeps this up, he'll go into shock. Can't have that happen.
\t
“Stop moving around, cub! Act like a fucking adult for once!”
\t
His body goes still. I'm sure he realizes what is happening right now; who masterminded this whole thing. I wonder if he's repeating my words in his head, over and over.
\t
“Y-You...”
\t
His first word causes me to tingle below once again.
\t
“That's right Jackie boy. It's me. It was me after all. Did you see this coming? Huh? I bet you didn't! Wanna know why?”
\t
Looking closer, I can see his body shake, he's losing control. It gets better as time passes on, when organs begin to fail left and right. That's when I can barely contain myself, having to let loose every few minutes. I remember the first time I tortured someone, how scared shitless I felt during, but how invigorated I felt afterwords. Touching my cock for the first time, staring down at the limbless, dead body on the floor, I masturbated for about fifteen minutes until those pearly drops of white splattered the torso. That's when I knew I couldn't stop. I think I still have his head... Well it is to be known, anyone who wronged me would get this treatment. Not always as extravagant. Some deserved extra special attention from me and, as always, I was more than happy to oblige them.
\t
“P-P-P-Please... help...”
\t
“I am helping you, silly! By doing this, no one will ever have to deal with you ever again! Isn't that just absolutely wonderful? Ridding the world one asshole at a time, that's my motto!”
\t
He moves his head back and forth, probably trying to get a glimpse at me to beg. I love it when they do this. As if I care. I slip a paw down the front of my pants, feeling the semen coating my fur. Pulling free, I walk over to him and hold it up so he can see what I have done. His eyes widen and I think he finally realizes how fucked he is. It's then that I slap him across the face, letting my seed soak into his fur. I don't have to say anything after that. The rest is up to him. For my amusement. I hope he has some beautiful gems to give me.

I go over to my bag and look inside, grunting in annoyance as I realize I left my camera at home. Shit. SHIT SHIT SHIT! How could I forget something so goddamned important!? What was I thinking? Breathe. No matter. This is just a minor inconvenience. I don't need to film it. Besides, there is no possible way I will ever forget what happens here today.
\t
The bear's moans and grunts of pain start to annoy me and I feel like I am starting to lose my cool. Fucking camera. I then realize the hammer is still clenched in my paw. Any tighter and it would probably snap in half. With a swift turn, I go over to the bear and snarl in his face, spittle coating his muzzle as I scream my lungs out.
\t
“Will you shut the fuck up!!! I'm trying to concentrate here!!! It's not everyday someone makes a fucking masterpiece that they can look back on and feel a sense of fucking pride!!! Fuck!!!”
\t
But he just won't stop. His moans are echoing off the walls and bouncing inside my head. If I don't shatter mentally, I'll be shocked. I need to regain control here. I look down at the hammer, then back at him. His feet are still free, not yet pinned down. My heart leaps in my chest as I make my move. You are the mastermind here. I watch as his feet writhe ever so slightly before me. The nails are an option, but this needs to be quick. No more waiting.
\t
“SHUT... UP!!!”
\t
The hammer is raised and, before I know it, I've snapped his ankles in half, the splintered bones poking out of the flesh like some sort of greeting. He goes quiet then, pain no longer registering, which, in turn, causes him to shut his fucking trap. Already I have done enough for anyone to go into shock, yet he is surprising me with each passing second. Even through my worst moment, he is still with me. I feel a warm trickle down my leg, slow and sticky. I just came again without even touching myself. This is indeed my most special piece of work.
\t
“That's a lot better,” I say with a hint of lust in my voice, setting the hammer down by his now useless feet. “No more screaming. Is that fair, Jackie boy? If you choose to, however, I'll resort to pouring lye down your throat until there's a beautiful hole for me to fuck. Got it!?”
\t
Jack is looking in my general direction, but I know he doesn't “see” me. Judging by the look of his eyes, he is in another world at the moment; the shock driving him deeper and deeper into his subconscious. Good. Let him stay like this for a few more moments. When I need him around for the most important part, I will bring him back. I hope he starts to cry then. If that doesn't get me off again, I don't know what will.

Speaking of which, I need to get out of these pants. I take them off with the utmost care, even going so far as folding them and setting them down on the nearest chair. They are ruined from my cum, but that is alright. It will be a treasured reminder of what I did.
\t
Turning back, I notice the tent in his pants. The adrenaline from all of this has given him quite the hard-on. Looks a bit painful, judging at how tight the fabric is. My own erection is throbbing between my legs, waiting for the next spark to send it into overdrive. It is then I come to the realization that I do not have much left to do. That saddens me. It always seems to go by a lot quicker than expected. A damn shame really. Oh well. As long as this next part goes flawlessly, it will be my most glorious masterpiece.
\t
My paws work over the tented fabric, actually quite curious as to what his cock looks like. It's definitely big, no questions there. I undo his belt first and work on the button and zipper next. He's too fucking big for me to lift and pull them off, so I go to my duffel bag and grab a nice pair of scissors. The sharpest you can buy. Well, that's what it said on the television.

Very swiftly, and efficiently I might add, I slice through the fabric and pull them clean off, taking his undies, a snug pair of boxers briefs, one size too small, with them as well.  The shape of his dick is quite nice; fairly thick, about seven inches long at a guess, swollen tip. That's not what I want though. I lower my gaze just enough to see that massive set of balls. About the size of my fist. Shit. Jackpot.
\t
His eyes stare upwards, probably trying to see if God is going to save him anytime soon. Is this just a complete guess? Of course it is. However, I like thinking about the best options in these types of situations. All the little things attribute to getting me off multiple times in the end. I want to say something to him right now, but I decide against it. There is no God! If there was, people like me and especially you would not exist in this world. Don't want to bring myself into the mix. It's not fair to me after all, so I stay quiet.
\t
Back to the bag I go, kneeling beside it. Even though there's not much in here, it was still a necessary investment and I am thankful for it. I reach in and pull out the heaviest item, a mini-sledgehammer I bought at the local hardware store near by home. Friendly people they are.
\t
“Just doing some home maintenance! This will come quite in handy,” I said as I handed them a ten and a five. They smiled back of course, processing my order, completely unaware of my true nature.

It must weigh about five, six pounds at the most. I am doing a “type” of maintenance. You could call it, what's the word...landscaping. His eyes are still looking up as I walk back to him, holding the sledgehammer in front of his face. He looks past it of course. Nothing registers anymore. The anticipation is building and I'm ready to use it on him. Well, a part of him at least.
\t
Those balls of his are starting to tease me. The size makes my heart pound against my chest and I see even more stickiness spurt from my tip like a fountain. My legs tremble, but I stand my ground, the sledgehammer feeling even heavier at this moment. Usually I would suckle the balls into my muzzle and grind them between my teeth before chomping down fully, feeling those wonderful jewels split against my tongue and gush out their guts.

It's a very wonderful texture, sort of like whipped butter when you crush it just right. The taste, however, is something that one must experience on their own. My words would not do them justice. Other times, I  merely slice open the sac and pull the balls out of their home, letting them rest on my tongue, rolling them around and enjoying the sounds of my victim as he begs for me to have mercy and not--CHOMP! My teeth slice right through the vas deferens, the tubing, like butter. They roll around in my muzzle for a few more seconds before slipping right down my throat like an oversized Lima bean. I prefer chewing the most, but I occasionally get the urge to swallow them whole. Either way, I am treated to a most glorious sensation and taste.
\t
However, today will be different. I have something a little more cruel planned. Walking to the edge of the table, near his feet, I stand and eye his balls, making sure they are at a good enough position for the hammer to strike. They are, of course. Lifting my gaze for just a brief second, I watch as pre leaks from his swollen tip.

His body doesn't know how to comprehend these new sensations, so it acts on random responses. Maybe he'll cum from this; give him that last hurrah before I neuter his worthless ass. I hope he doesn't. Don't want to give him the satisfaction of such a feeling. My arm raises straight in the air, the metal glistening in the light as I hone in on my target. Deep breath. Eyes closed. 3...2...1!
\t
SPLAT! Just as expected, his nuts explode as soon as I make contact. The sac rips open and the guts fly out from all sides, splattering the table and even the floor. My eyes widen as I feel a good amount of the nut butter hit my forehead. I lift a paw and wipe the mess away with the tips of my fingers. Just the right consistency this time around. I greedily shove the fingers in my muzzle and lick them clean, that musky taste overpowering. He might be one shit of a person, but damn his nuts taste magnificent. Not wanting to forget one of the best parts, I lift the hammer and clean that with my tongue as well, my cock aching to be touched as I enjoy my treat. Stop yourself! This time you need to change up your act. Remember what he did!
\t
“You're right.”
\t
A smirk spreads across my muzzle as I wipe up a big glop of the mess. It looks so good that I am tempted to finish it off, but I know better. I walk back to the bear's head, surprised to see his eyes are staring right at me, completely bloodshot. That's the look of a man who is no longer a man. Once those precious orbs are taken from you, you're just another bitch. I grip him by the fur on the top of his head, yanking it up as I hold my paw near his muzzle, letting out my most dominating growl.  It always gets results, though on occasion I do get resistance. This time it was the former.
\t
“Lick up every last bit, Jack. I want you to enjoy it as much as I do. If you don't, well, I'll just have to force it down your throat. Either bust out your teeth with the sledgehammer or cut open your throat and-”
\t
I'm caught off guard as the bear leans forward and begins lapping up his own nut butter. His eyes are closed and you can see the grimace in his expression, but he does it with no hesitation whatsoever. This turns me on quite a bit, but I can only imagine his reason for doing so. He wants me to spare him and that is a no-can-do. No matter how much I enjoy seeing this, my pride takes precedence over his life any day of the week.

As soon as every bit of goo is clear of my paw, I turn away from him and walk back to the bag. My last item is my favorite. The first tool I ever used. The blade is still as shiny as it was that fateful day, when I knew what had to be done. Sharp to the touch, a simple handsaw is what I clench tightly.
\t
“We're almost done here, Jack. This has been one of the crowning achievements in my entire life. It's a shame really. If only you weren't such a horrible person. If only you didn't fire me today.”
\t
I eye my new target and once I reach the table, I grip the pulsing length in my paw tightly. No balls, so what is the use of having a cock? His muzzle opens as if he's trying to say something to me, but only gasps and whimpers come out in the end. Giving that piece of meat one hard twist to the right, my paw out of harms away, I press the toothed blade against the skin and begin sawing it clean off. It's beautiful watching it go to work.

The skin tears, the muscle is sliced through with no trouble, blood spurting from the now flat surface of where his member used to be. I hold it in my paw tightly as the last bit of skin rips. A person's penis is quite hefty when it's no longer connected to home. This one is no exception. I have no use for this either of course, so, while he struggles even more to speak to me, I shove his member in his muzzle, down to where I'm sure the tip is hitting the back of his throat. It just needs to stay there for a few more moments.
\t
The need to get off this one last time cannot be contained any longer. The urge has passed  beyond “want” quite some time ago. Having him alive this long was necessary, but in the end, when I think about it now, quite aggravating.
\t
“P-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-”
\t
That was the last thing I ever heard Jack say as I grip the fur on his head once more and begin sawing through his meaty neck, cutting through every single, vein, muscle, nerve and bone that would connect him to his body. The blood is plentiful this time around, but not shocking. He is a bear after all. His body thrashes about as much as it is allowed; the belts do a wonderful job of holding him as the final swipe of the saw disconnects his head. It must weigh about ten pounds; just a guess. Lifting it, my eyes meet his and I can tell he is still alive, but just barely. Good. This last part will be fun for the both of us. I can guarantee that.
\t
“Time to go, Jackie boy. It has been a pleasure.”
\t
Who could ever forget the look of the first disembodied head they fucked? No one, that's who. Those memories come rushing back as I remove his cock from between his lips. His teeth have clenched down just enough so that when I pull it free, it rips a bit of skin off the bottom half, leaving the muscle exposed. No matter. It all goes in the same place regardless.

He sees two things before he is completely dead. The first is his own cock jabbing down into his left eye, bursting it instantly as I press it in as far as I can without damaging the brain. This is quite a hot scene, even after all my years. It never gets old in my opinion. Some of the eye gunk leaks from around the shaft, but ultimately stays inside of his head for the most part. The second thing he sees? I am sure you can guess what it is without having me say so.
\t
My tip punches right through his right eyeball, the juices lubing up my length nicely. The feeling is warm and a bit sticky, but that is to be expected. I don't waste any time though. If I wait too long, he'll die before I can fuck his head to death. Making sure my grip is as tight as possible, I drive my cock in right to the hilt, feeling half of it sink right through his brain, that hot meat surrounding it from all sides. Brain matter feels good no matter whose it is. Sort of a spongy texture, but nonetheless fun to fuck.

He's dead as I work my hips back and forth, fucking his eye socket and brain, but that's okay with me. I felt the last movement of his muzzle against my balls once I buried my entire length inside his head. That feeling is one I will never forget, even today.  I throw my head back and let out a deep, lustful howl as my hot, sticky milk floods his head, coating his brain in the mess. I stay like this for a few moments, overwhelmed with pleasure. My chest rises and falls with each breath and I feel tears begin to pour down my face. What a wonderful day this has been. So...wonderful.


Jack Waters, Jr., sits in a bag on the floor of his office as I set his room back up, making sure everything is in its original place. I can't exactly leave a whole body for someone to discover, now can  I? It would take hours for someone to put all of those pieces back together. And damn, is he one heavy son of a bitch! Just need to be careful when I drag it out of here. Don't want any blood trails on the carp-
\t
The phone rings and my heart leaps in my chest. Who the fuck would be calling him right now? Who would need to on a fucking Sunday? My eyes are fixated on the phone as it rings once, twice, three times and finally, the answering machine picks it up. I know that voice and I roll my eyes as I hear it. Foxie. Only he would call our boss on a Sunday. Such a fucking ass kisser, such a-
\t
“-make sure you congratulate him for me, Jack. I can only imagine how excited he is to be the new manager of this company, but he seems to have a good head on his shoulders and I will be more than happy to follow his command. But anyways, I need to get myself some lunch. Have a good day and call me back if you get the chance. See you later!”
\t
I hear that click and the answering machine shuts off, flashing a red “1” every 3 seconds. Hearing what I just heard would have made this day null and void, a complete waste, if I still didn't harbor such hate for my ex-boss. So now I have quite the position. He gave me his job. I can say I respect him for that even now. Other than that, what I did was necessary for this job. It was necessary for me to stay sane. And as I sit at my new desk on Monday, Foxie sitting in front of me asking how everything went, I explain very calmly that Jack was absolutely wonderful throughout the whole ordeal.
\t
“You're quite lucky! I would kill for a position like this!” said Foxie, a hint of laughter in his voice.
\t
My tail swishes back and forth, a grin on my muzzle. “Oh Foxie, you have no idea.”


The End?

Completed on: March 13, 2011 at 10:31 PM.
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