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Entrapped in the perpetual cacophony of a daily uproar was the small, beat-up mobile home that sat nestled within the city limits of an impoverished suburban neighborhood. Typically, any day of the week would see to the massive voice of some small charge from within bouncing off the walls, muffled by strategically placed colossal teddy bears that were crammed in the corners of tight bedrooms - and yet one lazy Sunday afternoon, the cramped living space had fallen eerily silent.
Except for the distressed cooing of its youngest resident, that was.
A resounding sigh left Earl's muzzle, peppered with the salt and silver ticks of fur that betrayed his age, as a can of frosty and cheap beer was set on the side table of his worn upholstery armchair. While one could only be left to wonder as to whether or not his ears had deteriorated from the numerous decades that the silver male had lived through or the symphony of high-pitched screaming that had assaulted his ears for equally as long, one thing was certain - his hearing was still intact enough for the sound of a fussy baby to be a disturbance to his afternoon relaxation.
The baby fennec wasn't the only young one under their questionable care, given that Ed and Nikolai oversaw any number of young charges pouring in and out of Earl and Ralph's shared mobile home. The current residents of the makeshift group home for children that had been cursed with any combination of situational vulnerability and conventional attractiveness included two young pups who had been plucked from the streets like ripe berries from a summer-tinted bush - however, only little Atlas remained awake at this hour of the afternoon.
Perhaps the young borzoi and wolfdog puppies who had accompanied him through the broken screen door had been wiser, opting to remain entirely still in sharp contrast to how their pupils trembled with anticipation of the bedroom door opening, simply hoping that they could fawn and go undetected by the two mutts that oversaw the imprisonment of the children. Atlas, however, was still but a dumb and helpless baby, blindly trusting that his cries would be answered by a doting parent or a social worker. Hell, Earl wasn't sure where he had come from, but the silk cardigan and the incessant crying spoke volumes of context to form a damn good hypothesis with - he was a spoiled, upper-class little shit who had probably been born into the lap of luxury.
Perhaps the kit was ungrateful for all of the work that his new caretakers extended towards keeping him safe, fed, and clothed, regardless of how often said clothing was ripped off or how water-logged rags pressed a bit too firmly into the more sensitive areas of his frail body during bathtime.
But then again, perhaps Earl was just a bit too drunk and a bit too tormented by the swelling underneath his denim jeans, as though he were still a young bachelor in his prime.
"Ralph," He slurred, swiping the can off of the side table with enough force to nearly crush it as he stood. "Think it's 'bout time to go check on the baby." He suggested, the last word of the sentence disintegrating under the seething venom of which he uttered it with, like the final notes of a dying song.
Within the confinement of their temporary and minimized living space, it wasn't hard for the darker male's ears to perk with the realization of his own name. Running his salmon tongue over his muzzle, equally as peppered with white ticks of fur as his companion's yet much more contrasted against his smoke-colored pelt, he snuffed out his cigarette and rolled his shoulders. "Sure."
Thundering footfalls preceded the shrill whine of a door on rusted hinges being cracked open where the makeshift bedroom of the trio resided. A pillar of light beamed through the crack and sliced through the ambient darkness of the room produced by the blinds drawn closed, illuminating the structure for which the pair had already developed an unspoken and mutual agreement on utilizing - the changing table.
On a plastic vinyl mat which squeaked and crunched under the movement of a struggling infant placed atop its indented surface, the fennec kit was lowered as Earl spared a single glance towards the bed crudely shoved into the corner of the room - which contained two still and silent bodies of the other pups, just as expected. No stranger to the distress of a sobbing infant, a smirk pulled onto his leathery lips as he realized it was highly unlikely that the two weren't awake at the time - or, at least, they would be very soon if not.
An impulse throbbed between his legs as he retrieved an empty bottle from the under-the-table storage, passing the contents of both it and the beer can in his paws to Ralph. "Give 'im a little bit a naptime juice, that 'oughta calm 'im down."
The pair snickered through strained lungs brought on through a lifetime of smoking, their wheezes quickly dominating the backdrop of whiny half-cries that the fidgeting kit emitted as he kicked his chubby legs and pinned his ears back. Soon, his lips curled with preemptive sobs around the root of his pacifier.
"Gimme that, boy." Earl snapped as he yanked the soother from beneath the tiny teeth which had attempted to pitifully nurse the rubber, opening the floodgates for a crescendo of vexations to be vocalized by the youngest. One paw, calloused and impossibly heavy, set to work on embedding itself into the young boy's hair to coax his head back - the other one crudely yanked the side of his tiny muzzle open like a fish hook, dislodging the fennec's airways for his first proper choking sob to roll out.
Earl hummed, pleased with this, as the sound of liquid splashing around and filling a once-hollow container filled the escalating soundscape of the room.
"Drink up, baby." Ralph instructed through his deeper tones, coaxing the bottle's nipple into the kit's mouth which almost instantly made an attempt to vehemently reject it. Deep and stale bitterness dominated his small tongue and trickled down his throat, drowning the sharper edges of his sudden wailing into a wet gurgle as the excess soaked his pristine fur.
"He's makin' a big fuckin' mess," Earl guffawed in his reedy voice, coaxing a softer chuckle from Ralph as well.
"Stupid shit doesn't even know a good beer when someone's feedin' it to 'im." The coal male hummed, withdrawing the nipple from the kit's maw with an interest in not drowning him completely.
"I gotta better idea," Earl mused, his voice suddenly taking on a low drawl. Coaxing the tape that held together a disposable diaper apart, the garment was removed from the fox and unceremoniously tossed into the trash can beside them despite its pillowy bed having been untouched by any urine.
The fennec kit shivered from the sudden draft that overcame his exposed privates and the entirety of his lower end, his heat dispensing ears quivering with dread as he attempted to cough and sputtle out the intrusive and burning substance that still clung to his tongue. A small glimpse of his glistening amber eyes could be seen betraying the emotional turmoil brought on by the violation of his safety, before they suddenly screwed shut to accompany the tension of every muscle on his face furrowing as his ankles were roughly gripped and hoisted up.
Instinctively, his bristling tail rose in a pitiful attempt to cover his exposed privates, but a few shaky gasps of panic befell his tiny chest that saw to the fabric of his bunched up hoodie rising and falling as the appendage was powerlessly cast to the side between pinched digits.
Smooth and slick from the drool of having been lodged into his mouth earlier, the rounded tip of the teat prodded his impossibly tight entrance as it was guided by the other paw of his remaining captor. The realization of tension suddenly flooding his tiny body like a balloon that finally burst, his maw parted as far as it could to make his protest known at once, and the sleepy afternoon haze of the bedroom was pumped with a cacophony of high-pitched shrieks.
Non-verbal pleas and appeals for mercy in the form of piercing wails and choking sobs only served as music to the ears of those who had acquired a dark and twisted taste for exploitation and abuse. Even were the pair not entirely and utterly convinced that children screamed in the same way that a woman of age would moan - because they enjoyed it - then a shred of guilt wouldn't have been able to be conjured over the shared misconception that he wouldn't be harmed by what he ultimately would not be able to remember, and that his body wouldn't perpetually panic from sensory inputs in the form of tactile touch and certain specific scents or flavors that couldn't be explained as he grew.
As the fennec owed them his very life, he was in no power to take any such factors into consideration - all he could do was helplessly scream as the teat was finally coaxed past his inner labia and plunged inside, barely-developed fangs gnawing with stress at his sore paw as he alternated between chewing his own flesh raw and screaming to cope with the invasive feeling of burning liquid being pumped inside of him.
"Good boy," Earl praised, though it was flat and mechanical as if such words had been uttered a thousand times; completely insincere and void of all meaning. "Some special juice 'an a nap will have you feelin' much better."
"He's a cranky li'l bastard today." Ralph affirmed, his voice suddenly dipping into a sinister and ominous tone which would have silenced the fennec entirely had he not been unable to hear it past the sound of his own broken-voiced agony. "Such a messy boy, gettin' it all over himself - needs a bath after fer sure."
Slowly, as small bubbles shot through the liquid gold as it was tipped and adjusted accordingly every now and then, the kit's pathetic attempts at feeble kicks and his helpless and incessant wailing slowed considerably. A few minutes later and the babe's tired eyelids began to droop alongside tension held within his frazzled and bushy tail, prior shrieks dissolving into pitiful hiccups as his body betrayed an inebriated state with sluggish wriggling.
It was too much, the pair decided, as a quiet glance was exchanged. A lifetime of debauchery together had accustomed them to the intricate preferences and stamina of one another, and with a single look it was clear - both of their cocks could not wait even a single moment longer before being withdrawn from their fabric prisons.
"Let's see if he'll take a different kinda bottle now that he's calmed down a bit." Ralph initiated, finally withdrawing dislodging the container from the tiny pussy of the baby fox with a soft pop where it had been clamped down on through the stress-induced taut muscles of the younger.
Earl licked his chapped lips, eyes burning with intensity yet unfocused from the haze that strained his cock against his jeans and overtook his senses. "Let's."
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Art ©
Character(s) ©
Do not reference or repost my art.
╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯
Atlas (the fennec fox) goes by he/him pronouns. Please keep this in mind if commenting, thanks!
Art ©
Character(s) ©
Do not reference or repost my art.
╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯
Atlas (the fennec fox) goes by he/him pronouns. Please keep this in mind if commenting, thanks!