"A-are you sure daddy??" the fox cub trembled as the heavy paws unbuttoned his pants.
Daddy had been acting funny since he caught his little boy playing in his bedroom with the other neighborhood cubs in his underoos. While dressed down, a pudgy bear boy from next door convinced the naive fox to let the others take turns wedgying his tightie-whities up his bright orange rear. "C'mon Cooper, it'll be fun for us and we'll like coming to play at your house even more if you let us make it special..." He knew this was true, they'd always hazed the cub whose room they played in, and it was his turn to be initiated. He turns his tail to the bear, facing the bedroom door, and bends over at the knee to give him more leverage. Two clawed bear swiftly paws seize the white waistband, gently tug it down the fox's orange fur before fiercely hoisting them with a snap up the young one's crack. The small fox let out a shocked yelp. His daddy burst through the door from the next room. When their eyes met, his son's heart dropped through the floor. There was no mistaking the scene in the room. His own son was being ritually humiliated by his peers. He stared at them all blankly for a full minute before leaving the room without a word.
His thoughts towards his own flesh had been impure long before that moment, but something primal awoke him in when he saw his innocent boy reduced to an object of sexual control. "Yes, Cooper. We're going to play the same game I caught you playing with your friends. You had so much fun playing like that with them, didn't you?" The kit's flesh burned bright red under his face fur. Being used by his friends for their amusement had made him feel weirdly good in a way he couldn't explain. He knew they had been using him, exploiting his gullibility to humiliate him and tease him about it late, but he still loved it. All their male attention focused on him, his inferiority to them, and their willingness to accept him if he let his mistreatment play out. He liked it, he knew he shouldn't like being made the fool, but he liked how valuable it made him feel.
This was different. Daddy was always the one who made him feel safe. It was felt really good playing these games with his friends, but he felt scared when his daddy took him into the big bedroom and locked the door. He could tell his friends "no" or get his daddy to keep him safe, but who was going to keep him safe from his daddy? "I-I'm not liking this, daddy..." the kit could barely squeak it out, as if he was summoning the courage to yell down a monster in a nightmare.
These cries went unanswered, saved for the continued unclothing of the pre-pubescent animal's young body. The pants slid down to the boy's ankles, getting caught on his paws' heels. Daddy ignored this and yanked at the shirt to get it off from around the child's neck. "We're playing, buddy. This is fun, just like your friends had fun when they got to do this to you. So quiet down, and try not to yelp." There was a harsh bite in the grown fox's words, his fangs clenching into a warped grin. They both knew at the point that only one of them was going to enjoy what would come next. "Now turn around."
The young fox could feel his mind desperately trying to separate itself from its situation. He begged to God that he could wake up and find out this was all a rotten dream, that his mommy could come back and take him away, anything but this. There was no God, and the father would make sure the boy wouldn't forget the sexual suffering that came next. The young boy rolled over, instantly his daddy brutally tugged at the young boy's briefs. The underoos were driven so far up the boy's rear in the first wedgie that his tormented cried spilled through the otherwise empty home. Only his uncaring parent could bear witness to his torture.
The next yank caught the young boy's testicles in the fabric of the underwear and contorted them, crushing them between the undies and his childish thighs. The screams didn't do anything to deter the father's mission. He didn't know that the genitals of his offspring were being mangled, but he wouldn't care even if he did. One more stiff yank and blood begins spotting the boy's rear. His skin all along his taint and across his originally soft boy hole was rubbed raw from the friction.
The crying from the boy had flown past hysterical and was started resembling a full seizure. His body could hardly handle the shock from the physical trauma and began vomiting profusely into a puddle beneath him. He can barely finish blowing it all out his maw before he's slumped over into the puddle of his own waste. Watching this pathetic display, the father sharply strikes the child in the back of the head "Hey sport, you made QUITE the mess there!" The shaken youth rolls over, his balls bruised, ass bloodied, and fur drenched in tears and stomach bile. He gasps out a half-desperate breath before his daddy's paws clench around his throat. "Now you're gonna have to clean this mess up, kid-o!"
Before he can collect himself, the boy has a pawful with a healthy portion of the soupy vomit shoved into his mouth and back into his throat. The grown fox's other paw quickly clenches around the kit's snout, forcing him to hold the mess in his mouth until he swallows. His tongue was covered in a bitter, slimy muck. The thick globs of mucus rolled around in horrific motion between his lips. The boy began to physically fight back at this point, trying to dig his claws into his father's wrists to loosen his grip, but the kit was too weak. His eyes rolled back into his head, leaking out tears as he gulped down the disgusting mixture.
The father wouldn't release his vice grip over the boy's airway for another ten solid seconds. Each second felt like a lifetime for the cub, not knowing whether his father would ever let him breathe again. When his daddy finally relented and let the little boy open his maw, he pulled the young boy's body along the defiled bed and close to his waist. "Do you know why boys like you let the other boys play with them like this?" His daddy asked, now undoing his own pants button. "It's because you're not boys at all. You're a faggot. You are lower than low, and do you know what we do with faggots?" He pulls down his pants to reveal a cock eight inches in length, and pierced with with a thorn shaped stud through the tip. "We rape them to death, champ."
The father rammed his cock into the kit's mouth hard enough to pierce his lip with his thorn. The delirious cub felt so repulsed by the feeling of his own father's sweaty cock in his childish boy mouth that he hoped the promise of death would be true. Each thrust saw the piercing ripping the boy's mouth to bloody shreds. The sputtering blood became noticeable to the father too. "What's the matter, bud? You sure don't mind when the Cap'n Crunch tears up your mouth!"
The attack had been going on long enough that the father found himself needing to be relieved in other ways. He suddenly stops thrusting his groin into his son's muzzle and instead hold his head perfectly still. The young cub is still reeling from the pure torment he's endured when he feels his throat burn with his father's urine. The fox began pissing in his son's mouth so hard that he couldn't swallow it even if he wanted, gagging it back out all over the bed and himself.
"Ahh, you're such a good faggot, Cooper. I don't know if I want you to die so fast. I'll give you a choice, my son. I can either rape your bloody ass until you bleed to death in this room, and that's how you end. If you want to live, you need to earn." The boy is pushed backwards onto the bed, lying on his back. His father climbs on top of him, then swings his tail towards the cub's face. "I need you to eat my shit, baby boy." The child could barely register what was being said as he faded in and out of consciousness.
His lips felt a warm pair of furry cheeks press against them. His father had been planning this part all day, and had held in his bowel movement for this moment. The stench of gas came out first, more wretched than anything the young cub had ever experienced. He reflexively mouth his mouth to gasp, and his father took advantage, planting his tailhole firmly inside the boy's mouth. The kit snapped back to reality as his tongue was tickled by the sticky-wet fecal matter escaping his father's tailhole. Far from a solid whole, the river of excrement poured from the depths of his daddy's colons and washing across his palate. The final squeezes of liquid diarrhea caked onto the young cub's teeth.
Realizing the boy's hesitation to swallow the pile of poop in his throat, he punched the boy in the gut. His body recoiled and swallowed down the feces his father spewed inside him. He couldn't process how disgusted he was with himself, the thrill from letting his buddies wedgie him was universes removed from the pain he felt tremoring through every inch of his being. "That's a hungry boy! Well bucko, I guess someone gets to live after all! To think I was gonna slice your throat with this razor blade!" He pulled out a brand new, sharp as could be razor and tossed it towards the young boy.
The kit felt empty and lifeless. His body hurt as if it would never heal. He coldly stared at the razor and all that could race through his head were his fathers words. "Slice your throat with this razor blade." He picked it up, slicing his beans on his paw in the process, his mind numb to the painful sensations. All he could think about were those words his father said. With his back turned, the father put on his pants and turned around, seeing his son holding the razor blade.
"Aw, are you upset Champ? You looking at that razor blade awfully seriously. what're ya gonna do with it? Slice your throat with that razor blade?" His sickly sarcastic tone left him as he leaned in close and said assuredly to the boy, "You don't have the balls, faggot." His father pulled himself away from the bed and left the room without any other words. The kit thoughtlessly brought the blade to his throat and dig it in deep, severing through to the bone of his spinal column and ripping it across his neck. His small fox body slumped over into a disgusting pile of shit, piss, cum, blood, and the body of a worthless faggot. His father was right.