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"hidden": "f", "scraps": "f", "favorite": "f", "favorites_count": "27", "create_datetime": "2023-11-15 22:54:36.474597+00", "create_datetime_usertime": "15 Nov 2023 23:54 CET", "last_file_update_datetime": "2023-11-15 22:38:47.037064+00", "last_file_update_datetime_usertime": "15 Nov 2023 23:38 CET", "username": "SolidSonicTH", "user_id": "670610", "user_icon_file_name": null, "user_icon_url_large": null, "user_icon_url_medium": null, "user_icon_url_small": null, "file_name": "4773244_SolidSonicTH_walking_your_little_bro_home_from_school.doc", "file_url_full": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/full/4773/4773244_SolidSonicTH_walking_your_little_bro_home_from_school.doc", "file_url_screen": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/4773/4773244_SolidSonicTH_walking_your_little_bro_home_from_school.doc", "file_url_preview": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/4773/4773244_SolidSonicTH_walking_your_little_bro_home_from_school.doc", "thumbnail_url_huge": 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"https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/4773/4773244_SolidSonicTH_walking_your_little_bro_home_from_school.jpg", "thumb_huge_x": "300", "thumb_huge_y": "300", "thumb_large_x": "200", "thumb_large_y": "200", "thumb_medium_x": "120", "thumb_medium_y": "120" } ], "pools": [], "description": "My very first submission to Inkbunny and also my first earnest attempt at a fetish story (dabbled in it before, want to do a few more projects later, but this is the first real story I've written that goes all-in).\n\nThis is meant as a personal attempt at a sequel to the series of second-person perspective stories by [iconname]NovaRites[/iconname] about accompanying your little brother to the movies and back, found [url=https://inkbunny.net/s/2984988]here[/url] for part 1 and [url=https://inkbunny.net/s/2985026]here[/url] for part 2. I'd recommend reading those first as this story is my continuation of those events. My story makes certain assumptions about the characters involved for the purposes of the setting and story I wanted to tell so apologies if what you read in here after what you read there don't properly align in your head (since much of it relies on putting yourself into the perspective of the main character and using your own imagination to fill in the details).\n\nI would like to make my own part two to this story but at the moment I'm still working out the details of a sensible continuation scenario but if you have any ideas that might work for the next phase let me know.\n\nAgain, big shout-out and thanks to Nova for giving their blessing to continue their work in my own way. Definitely check out their writings as they are some of most titillating stories of desperation and relief I've enjoyed.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "My very first submission to Inkbunny and also my first earnest attempt at a fetish story (dabbled in it before, want to do a few more projects later, but this is the first real story I've written that goes all-in).

This is meant as a personal attempt at a sequel to the series of second-person perspective stories by \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\tNovaRites\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\tNovaRites\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
about accompanying your little brother to the movies and back, found here for part 1 and here for part 2. I'd recommend reading those first as this story is my continuation of those events. My story makes certain assumptions about the characters involved for the purposes of the setting and story I wanted to tell so apologies if what you read in here after what you read there don't properly align in your head (since much of it relies on putting yourself into the perspective of the main character and using your own imagination to fill in the details).

I would like to make my own part two to this story but at the moment I'm still working out the details of a sensible continuation scenario but if you have any ideas that might work for the next phase let me know.

Again, big shout-out and thanks to Nova for giving their blessing to continue their work in my own way. Definitely check out their writings as they are some of most titillating stories of desperation and relief I've enjoyed.", "writing": "[i]3:41 P.M.[/i]\n\nYour eyes look upon the clock on your phone's lock screen as you stand outside the gate to Powell Elementary School. Below the time displayed, in smaller digits, the current temperature reading.\n\n[i]71 F[/i]\n\nA fair temperature for the present hour. You are reminded of the autumn season as a slow breeze blows by, cooling your face under the mild sunlight. You always find this time of year uplifting to your spirits. Putting the heat of summer behind you while not yet into the thick of winter when you'd be bundling up and struggling to keep your paws even remotely warm - a fox's fur sometimes just isn't thick enough. The leaves on the trees gradually turning to a familiar tan and brown to usher in the end of year cooldown. It's especially nice on days when you've got soccer practice as you find the mix of warmth and coolness to increase your vigor, not being overcome by sweltering fatigue or joint stiffness that the hottest or coldest months could bring. You unlock your phone and tap the app provided by the public school system. It opens and you select the “Pickup” option from the choices presented, thumbing the green “I'm Here” button before relocking your device and slipping it into the back pocket of your jeans.\n\nThe walk over from Oak Bend High School was a brisk seven minutes. On days when soccer practice isn't on the agenda you find yourself having to detour to Powell Elementary on the walk home from campus. That's because your parents don't really want to pay the babysitter Melinda to walk your little brother home when you're already available. You're [i]such[/i] a good brother to take the time - the thought simply fills you with sarcastic elation. You've been in this routine now for the past year, ever since your baby brother started kindergarten. Well, guess someone needs to take care of it, why not you? At least none of your friends come this way on their way home so no one's around to see you escorting the dumb baby. You hope that this will be the last school year that you'll be called upon and that your parents will trust him to make his way home by himself in second grade. Plus, it's not all bad - your dad basically guaranteed that you'd be getting his old car when you're old enough to drive as thanks for walking the little snot home so faithfully (and assuming your grades hold up). Next year can't come soon enough...although you rationalize that'll mean your parents might want you to pick him up in the car instead of walking home...you'll never win.\n\n“Big bro!” a peppy little voice calls out from beyond the exit gates leading to the school's car loop. You snap out of your absorption of the midday fall weather and see the shrimpy fox kit that shares your parents charging your way, his bushy little tail wagging vigorously creating an orange swish in his wake. Because of his small-ish frame the backpack he wears always seems a little too big on him, coming all the way down to his butt and flopping behind him as he bounds forward. Again, good to know no one you know from school uses this route to get home. You ask him why he's in such a hurry.\n\n“'Cuz it's Thursday!” he informs you, turning as he passes and reversing his stride. “I wanna get home and watch the new WulfByte on Blik Blok!” He whips back around and resumes his full pace.\n\nOh, right. Earlier in the year the Wunder Wulf Blik Blok channel began uploading weekly short episodes to set up the upcoming season, which was set to tie back to the movie. Admittedly while the show is beneath your standards the amount of thought that a kid's show was putting in to create a cohesive plotline comes as a surprise to you, given how easily they could just shove any old thing on the air and the kiddies would lap it up.\n\nAs you let your kid brother get ahead of you with his eager footwork a buzz in your pocket catches your attention. You pull out your cell phone and read the notification - flipping off the silence toggle as you do, remembering that your phone was silenced for the school day.\n\n[i]Phoebe to all\nVideo call tonight for Mr. Luken's class? Milestone 1 is coming up.[/i]\n\nSnap, the first milestone of your bio group project for fourth period is due next week. You and the rest of the group agreed to get together online to discuss your submission sometime during the week. The due date had admittedly gotten lost in the clutter that was your high school existence, between soccer practice and that essay contest you entered for English class - although thankfully you had made some time for it over the past weekend, so your contribution is ready to be merged with the rest of the group's. The now-unsilenced phone lets out a soft “ping” sound and a new notification scrolls in.\n\n[i]Mark to all\nyeah at debate practice rn but ill be home at 530 so how about 6[/i]\n\nYou start typing your own response, letting the group chat know you're walking home right now and should be there in about 15-20 so 6 shouldn't be a problem but your mom does like to have dinner ready around 7:30. Your message sent you relock the phone and slide it back into your jeans pocket.\n\nYour attention returns to your kid brother walking ahead of you. Eh, nothing else to do, might as well engage. You ask him if he did anything fun at school that day.\n\n“Well...uh...” he falters, collecting his scattershot kid brain to recall the day's events. “Oh! Ms. Kylie showed us a video on how the ocean tides work during science. Did you know it's `cause of the moon?”\n\nYou tilt your head to the side slightly and find your mouth curling into a small smile. Despite his status as the “dumb baby” you can't deny that the kid seems to enjoy being at school and learning. You find that admirable in a quaint way, although maybe it's because all the years you've spent grinding away at school life dulled that enthusiasm and it'll probably happen to him too.\n\n“What about you?” he asks, turning around and walking backwards again so he can face you.\n\nYou think about your own day for a brief moment. Fun? You wouldn't say anything you did was “fun”, although getting a 93% on your Algebra II quiz was pretty cool since you weren't entirely sure you had understood Tuesday's assignment. And you're really getting into the book you've been reading for Mrs. Dempsey's English class and kind of want to get started on the report for next week since you've got a lot you want to put into your summary.\n\nYour brother shoots you a slightly incredulous look. “C'mon, that stuff doesn't sound fun! You like that stuff? All the stuff we read is [i]sooo[/i] boring when I gotta do it!” he tells you without any consideration for sharing like he did.\n\nYour eyes flare up and your muzzle curls with contempt at your brother's childish dismissiveness. Oh, so only [i]he's[/i] allowed to have fun at school? You hastily swing your backpack off your right shoulder and yank the zipper aside. You pull out your 450-page biology textbook and show it to the little twerp. School ain't as much fun when this is the size of the textbooks, huh? And all the projects you have to spend day after day working on instead of hanging out with your friends because that isn't the only homework you're responsible for. No, of course not, he's just a happy-go-lucky first grader without a care in the world. Worst thing that'll happen in his day is that it'll be too rainy to play on the playground at recess, right? And homework? “[i]'Write the letter `C' ten times and add seven plus three,'[/i] this gonna take [i]aaaalll[/i] night!” Now when will he find the necessary three hours per day to play Gobrox! Meanwhile you haven't even been able to get a measly hour to yourself to play Modern Warfur 2 in four days. It'll catch up to him soon enough and then he'll understand, dumb baby.\n\n“Okay, sorry, didn't know you were so serious about it!” he replies, unapologetically oblivious to what life is like past the first grade. You simply roll your eyes and say nothing, knowing that he's just too young to grasp the demands of the lowly high schooler. You zip your textbook back into your backpack then loop your arm back through the loose strap. “And I don't play Gobrox for three hours a day!” he retorts with an indignant huff, turning back to walking forwards again. “Dad always kicks me off at dinner time...” he quietly pouts, gripping his backpack straps in both hands. You chuckle just loud enough for him to hear - guess the little squat still has his own problems to deal with every now and then.\n\nYou continue following your brother as you walk down the street. For such a little kid he's surprisingly hard to keep up with at your casual stride. The call of the Wunder Wulf is a mighty one, you surmise to yourself. Soon you're both approaching the entrance to Colby Park, which is a shortcut to get back to your subdivision on the other side. You have your eyes on your phone, scrolling through your Friendspace feed to see if anyone was talking about the football game against Elmont High from last night.\n\n“Oh no!” your brother's high-pitched voice rings out, taking away your attention from the Friendspace app. You look up and see your little brother standing in front of the park entrance. Around the entrance are white and orange wooden barricades preventing access along with orange plastic mesh covering the gaps between the barricades. “Big bro, we can't go through here!” he says, pointing to the blocked-off entrance. You put your phone away and walk over to him with a frown on your face. You wonder aloud if the whole park is closed off or just part of it. You notice an adult bear wearing a hard hat and a neon green vest walking in your direction and wave him down. When he's close enough you ask for an explanation for the barricade.\n\n“Whole park needs an emergency plumbing repair,” he explains. “It'll be closed for the next three days minimum, unfortunately.” You explain that you live on the opposite side of the park and that cutting through shaves off at least 10 minutes from your trip. You ask if it'd be okay to come in if that's all you were doing. “No can do, sorry,” he respectfully shoots you down. “Order of P&R - can't let anyone use the park until the job's done. It's all hands on deck to get it done soon as we can. Love to help if I could but...can't risk it.”\n\nYou frown again at the lack of cooperation but can clearly see that you're at an impasse. You tell your brother that there's nothing that can be done and that you'll just have to take the long way home by using Pawney St. instead. You tap your brother on the shoulder as you pass by to indicate where you're headed and pull out your phone to text your mom that you're going to be getting home later than you planned. At least the weather is nice for the longer walk, as some cloud cover rolls in to provide a bit of breeze. However, as you finish your text to mom you look up from your phone and see that your brother hasn't moved from the spot - he's simply standing at the park entrance looking into the off-limits pathway through the park, a frustrated and miffed expression overtakes his earlier enthusiasm. You call out to him and tell him to snap out of it - it's not going to change anything so just get moving. As your little brother starts walking again you can see a somewhat stiff briskness in his step and his glare is one of locked focus. Also, as he passes by you could have sworn that you heard him let out a small whimper. You narrow your eyes as you watch him continue onwards, noting the unusually vertical posture he had assumed while walking. His hands are still clutching his backpack straps like he was when you called him out on how much Gobrox he plays but now you notice how...pent-up he appears to be.\n\nYou and he continue walking towards the intersection of Pine Needle Dr. and Pawney St. A few cars pass you by but it's a mostly quiet afternoon, making for a relaxing walk in spite of the detour. However that same serenity that you are making the most of in your mind has also drawn an unusual amount of attention to your little brother ahead of you. He's still seeming to be in a state of...funk? You find it hard to decipher. There's no way that a simple park closure would make him so upset, even if it did force you off your usual route home. It's not like WulfBytes is going anywhere if he gets home a little later than normal. Furthermore you notice that his walk is somewhat...fidgety? As you turn the corner to Pawney St. you take note of how zig-zaggy his stride is. Every now and then you also see him twist his body slightly and adjust the backpack on his back, even though it shouldn't be that difficult for him to carry it normally since he's not carrying any textbooks around at his age.\n\nYou can't help but ask him if he's okay, mildly befuddled by his behavior. He stops and looks back at you. “Ah...I'm okay,” he tells you with some hesitation. “I...just wanna get home and watch WulfBytes before I gotta do my homework, that's all. I've been waiting all day to see it. They're supposed to reveal the new bad guy for the next season...” he trails off then starts walking again, this time noticeably slower but still with some purpose. However the body language your little bro was putting forward told a different story to his words. His eyes were indirect as he spoke to you, looking left and right with a sense of subdued urgency. He moved his feet multiple times even though he was stationary, as if he didn't want to stop moving but stopped simply to give the illusion that everything was fine. He was tugging on his backpack straps, like he was stressed out and needed a way to relieve the physical pressure. A kid his age doesn't have the sense of self-awareness to notice these little tics that give away more than what their mouth is saying but it doesn't take much for a casual glance to tell otherwise.\n\nYou let out a small sigh and begin thinking back to when you picked him up at the school exit. He was in a hurry back then too - supposedly motivated by the new WulfByte drop as he claims but now you see it in a different light. Then there was the rather distressed reaction he had to the park being closed. An inconvenience, sure, but not one that would have elicited such a dramatic reaction unless there was something else driving his response. And again, the way he seemed to be gripping his backpack straps, frequently tugging at them or pulling them in close to his chest. He'd been doing it all the way down here even if you hadn't noticed it as much until now. Putting it all together you come to realize the signs of what you're seeing, and you've been down this road before.\n\nLate last year you and the family visited the Isles of Intrigue theme park for winter break. You all had a blast, your little brother included. He really enjoyed the various rides and taking pictures with all the animatronic creatures. However, there was one day of that trip that sticks out in your mind. Your parents had let your brother go to the bathroom by himself. He was old enough to handle that without needing help but unfortunately his small body meant that the automatic flushing sensor couldn't easily pick up that he was still using the toilet. So, while he was still seated the auto-flusher triggered. Oh boy did he let out a huge scream, you could hear it all the way outside of the bathroom. Both you and your dad had rushed in to see the source of the commotion and when your dad opened the stall your little brother ran to him so fast he didn't even pull up his pants. He had peed on the floor in his panic to get off the seat and he was basically inconsolable for hours. Thankfully he was alone in the restroom, or someone might have called park security. Even that time he got himself stuck on the roof after climbing a nearby tree and your mom had to call a neighbor with a ladder to save him had managed to pass in quicker order - and he was pretty freaked-out by that experience too, as you recall. The family agreed to cut that day at the park short and it still took quite a bit of convincing to get him to go back the following day. He still enjoyed the park in the aftermath but there was no doubt that moment really messed with the kid's head.\n\nEver since that day he [i]hated[/i] going into public toilet stalls. With enough convincing sometimes your parents could sell him on the idea of going with their help but not always. This would lead to some close calls and there was at least one incident where he messed himself since the park trip, although you had only heard that story after the fact. But by himself? Out of the question. Didn't matter if it was an auto-flusher or one with a handle, he wasn't going near those alone. Unfortunately, when you spend all day at school the urge to poop sometimes strikes and all that left your brother with was trying to survive until that sweet stroke of 3:30 P.M. when you would come to his rescue and whisk him back home to the safety of your non-intimidating toilet. You have a couple of experiences of your own where the walk home was more like a race against the clock...or rather your brother's digestive system. You were fortunate none of those times ended badly but your little brother flinging open the front door, tossing his backpack into the corner of the foyer, and vanishing behind the first-floor guest bathroom door was a sight you had been there to witness more than once. Your mom had addressed her concerns to his kindergarten teacher near the end of the previous school year and the conclusion was that, while annoying and possibly messy, it wasn't something that was going to be a permanent fear and he would mature out of it soon enough. Trying to force him to confront his fear would probably be unproductive and it was something that had to work its way out on its own. Sadly, that meant you were still left dealing with times like this until he came around and it just so happened that today's episode came when the shortest route between the school and the bathroom in your house was rerouted by, ironically, a plumbing mishap. Up until now you had never called him out on his reluctance to poop at school, simply letting him hold his torrent in silence and fake bravado, but it seemed this time there was no avoiding it.\n\nYou're about halfway down Pawney by this point and your little brother's pace has drastically slowed, no longer able to maintain his rush to salvation and instead dragging himself towards the finish. His steps are clearly labored, his hand positions constantly creeping towards his tail and backside, the only compunction being his desire to keep his urgency a secret from your judgmental eyes and subsequent ridicule. You know he's gone from speed to caution because the impending point of no return is uncomfortably close, and any wrong move would be the death of his underwear. There's no doubt now; it's going to happen before you arrive home and you're going to have to step in if this poor baby is going to stop pretending like everything is fine and he isn't about to unload a septic tank's worth of sludge somewhere unpleasant. In your mind you agonize over how it's come to this, that you're going to have to confront your little bro over his bowel denial. It's almost as if you can feel your teeth grinding at the notion, though your jaw remains steadfast as you suppress the physical reaction you so feel like expressing.\n\nYou swallow down your remaining inhibitions and make your move. You ask him again if he's sure he's feeling okay, this time entirely rhetorical. “Y-yeah...” he weakly stammers. “I just don't like this way home, stupid...park...” You tell him to stop and quit pretending. Your brother slows to a halt and looks your way. “Pretending?” he asks, feigning confusion. Time to call him on the carpet: he's gotta use the bathroom and didn't want to go when he was at school. That's the real reason he was in such a hurry before and why now he can't seem to go any faster.\n\n“Nuh-uh!” he protests, not doing a great job hiding that he's been caught in his tone. “I don't gotta-” You stop him there. You already figured it out and now it's a problem for the both of you. He takes a quick look around, direly trying to find some sort of distraction or out to avoid having to come clean but to no avail. He gingerly makes eye contact again and his eyes begin tearing up as he begins slowly nodding his head, having run out of runway to keep up his denials. You let out a groan as you walk towards your beleaguered younger sibling and mention that it isn't healthy to hold poop for so long. Great, you're channeling dad now. But as the closest thing to an adult at the moment that's just something that has to be accepted, you suppose. “The bathrooms at the school are uncomfortable to use and the seats are always too cold!” he protested in his defense of holding it in, now basically on the verge of full-on crying. Yeah, no, that's not it but it isn't important right now.\n\nYou take a quick glance around. You aren't used to walking down this street normally so you aren't aware of any spots that might make for a good place to for doing...that. The roadside is undeveloped, covered in medium-sized trees but you can't see an easy way to slip between them to get your bro out of sight.\n\nYour brother starts to figure out where this is heading. “Hey, I'm okay now, let's just go home!” he says with a sniff, trying to soldier on despite the overwhelming weight that's pushing against his rump. You give him a knowing look and shake your head. Nice words and hope aren't going to do a lot of good about keeping his pants clean. “I'm not gonna poop myself, honest!” Yeah, he's got that right. You continue scanning for a sanctum of relief for this dumb baby.\n\nFinally your eye catches it: about 70 feet ahead you see a power station on the other side of the street nestled amongst the trees. There are metal power poles poking above the treeline with wires spanning over the treetops and connecting to the other wooden poles nearby to carry the lines to their destinations. In front of the station is a small cleared-away space but is still obscured with a line of short shrubs encircling the fence that separates the station from the roadway. Thank goodness you had to come down here if there was any road that you were going to detour on. You ask your younger sibling if he can make it across the street. “I guess so, why?” he asks. You point to the power station and say you're taking him over there. “What's over there?” he says but you grab him by the hand and lead him across Pawney St. towards the power station. If he hasn't figured it out by now there's no point in explaining it.\n\nThe quick burst of activity from pulling him behind you momentarily distracts him from his plight and your brother is able to keep up until you duck behind the small bushes surrounding the power station. “Wait!” he cries as you let go of his hand. Wait for what? “Why'd we go over here?” he quips. You roll your eyes and tell him it should be obvious. Having come to a rest his body's need for relief begins manifesting externally once more, your brother's knees bowing and his feet shifting around. “No!” he protests, still trying to get you to reconsider. You say this is the only suitable place around so he's going to have to get it over with. You point to the spot where the trees surrounding the power station resume and tell him to go there - no one's gonna see him from that angle.\n\n“Can't we just go hooome?!” he pleads. Uh-uh, no way. You kept your promise by covering for his little boo-boo on the subway earlier that year but there's no way you were going to be able to explain to mom why your brother is walking through the door reeking of you-know-what or how his underwear had “mysteriously vanished” on the walk home. While you didn't exactly care what would happen to him if mom or dad learned he had another accident you would probably have to face some consequence of your own for letting it get to that point. If you were expected to be responsible for him then this is how it's gonna play out. “But someone could still see me!” he objects, even though his short body doesn't reach over the bush line facing the street. You say to him no one's gonna see and strike back by “reminding” him that he got himself into this mess by being afraid of using the toilets at school.\n\nYour brother's eyes widen but he doesn't rebuff, his silence indicating he had been thoroughly licked and it was time to accept that he was the architect of his own predicament. He walks to the spot you suggested and removes his backpack. You reach out saying you'll hold his stuff and take it from him. He has a frown on his face but something you understand about the situation is that, despite any protests he might have about having to relieve himself in an undesirable place, he's still at that age where the importance of getting one's pants out of the way of what's coming can always trump the possibility of being caught in the act. Perhaps it's the lingering sense of accomplishment that comes from being a “big boy” during potty training that still holds a measure of value - even into the first grade. A time when your parents emphasized the one place that's off-limits when it's time to go is his underwear and that there can be times where getting to the potty itself has to be met with compromise in order to make that happen. Maybe doing so in public carries a little more reservation at this age but still not enough to ignore when the time has come and the shorts have got to come down.\n\n“Promise you won't make fun of me...?” he asks meekly, his hands at the button on the waist of his tan khaki shorts. The thought of telling him [i]“I'll let you know after you're done,”[/i] pops into your head but you shove it down - he's suffered enough and, admittedly, this situation wouldn't be anyone's best hour, little kid or no. You silently nod your head to assure him that you won't undermine his dignity in the aftermath. You mention that you'll stand where you are since it gives you the best view of the roadway to ensure no one catches a glimpse of what's about to happen. Your brother nods back as he undoes the button on his shorts and slowly lowers the zipper.\n\nThat, however, was a lie. You chose your position not because it granted you a better view of what's coming down the street but because of the view you have of him. Inside your mind you find your thoughts are awash with conflicting and confusing thoughts about your own feelings. Why do you feel this urge to watch this? You've noticed these feelings before. That strange allure you have to your little brother's figure - it's unnatural yet you can't resist it. He's so helpless sometimes but you find that...cute? Whatever intrigue you have about catching him in these private moments comes with a strange mix of condescension, curiosity, naughty arousal, and...dare you say protectiveness? That you, being the older brother, must step in and make choices in his best interest that he won't or can't make himself and there is a level of personal satisfaction you draw from it, even if does mean having to be present for...this.\n\nYour brother's pants sufficiently undone he reaches into the waistband and begins lowering his shorts, still slowly. You catch a glimpse of the little guy's...“little guy” as his underpants move beyond his thighs, sheathed in orange fur at the base of the white patch on his belly. You feel your own underwear getting less spacious as your eyes widen involuntarily. What is it about this experience that touches you in such a sensual way? You're both boys, you've got one too - yet seeing his still makes you feel funny. Maybe it's the lack of restraint he has for doing this in front of others that you in some way still yearn for - after all he never objected to you standing where you are, just your demands for him to relieve himself right here and now. Even if you are his brother the thought of taking a dump or even removing your underwear in front of someone else is a notion you've long since abandoned and being able to experience it vicariously hits you in a sweet spot.\n\nHis shorts sufficiently clearing his butthole he leans forward so his plain gray t-shirt doesn't drape over his backside, spreading his legs wider and puts his hands on his knees. His tail hikes up above the “exit” and helps prevent his shirt from entering the drop zone. He isn't assuming a full seated crouch like you initially expected. As a result of this position when he lets go of his shorts, they freely drop around his ankles and only the elastic Wunder Wulf-patterned briefs stay suspended between his stretched knees.\n\nSuddenly a practical thought enters your head and you tell him to hold on. “Huh? Why?” he asks, somewhat unappreciative of being taken out of the moment he had to ready himself for. You point out he's gonna piss on his underwear from that position. Either pee first or aim backwards. “Oh...” he remarks, now noticing the problem himself, looking down between his legs and seeing how his short length won't clear his underwear without some guidance. Your brother stands up straight and lifts the hem of his shirt up for clearance with his left hand, revealing more of his belly patch while grabbing onto his dick with his other hand. Once again you feel naughty arousal rising on your back and groin as the kit's member is pointing right in your direction. Thank goodness your jeans are loose or you'd definitely be showing. You reflexively lick your lips in anticipation.\n\nHe attempts to get the flow going but immediately cuts it off after releasing a scant few drops. He lets go of his shirt and looks up at you. What's the matter? “I...I can't,” he tells you. Can't what? “I can't pee without pooping.” Oh, so he's having trouble doing those separately. He nods and you suggest just aiming backwards then. “Okay...” he replies obediently. He leans forward again into his original position and puts one hand between his legs to push his stumpy wiener in the other direction.\n\nThe young fox begins shooting out a slow, dribbly stream of urine towards his rear. You lean your head slightly to the right to get a better angle at his pee arc. You can tell that he's trying to resist pooping even now, hence why he isn't letting his stream hit full flow. Just then his pee cuts off again and he freezes, his facial expression turning to one of unexpected paralysis. Immediately after a brown nugget falls from his backside and hits the grassy ground with a soft pat. You see it drop from between his slightly bowed knees. “I...I didn't mean to...” he stammers, caught off guard by his body taking control and relaxing his ring without his consent. You know that would have been the turd that would have found itself in his pants had you let things play out to his desire.\n\nYou tell him there's no going back now and...uh...just do what feels...natural? You pause and collect your thoughts before blurting out that you're not going to explain the mechanics of pooping, hoping to just get things moving again. “Yeah, uh-huh...” your little bro concurs. He bends forward again and resumes peeing, this time more forcefully, no longer concerned that relieving his bladder could also trigger his butthole. With the less restrained stream you can clearly see the golden arc of liquid spraying behind him, which hits the grass with a satisfying and distinct fizz. That unsettling tingle works its way from the soles of your feet to your pelvis once more. Why does this keep happening?\n\nNow unbound by the lack of resistance to having both happen at once you see a thin length of poop begin descending from the boy's rump, slithering down gradually from between his thighs and extending with each bit of movement from the young kit's abdomen. Your brother still hasn't fully evacuated his bladder either, clearly having been holding onto a substantial amount of liquid just to avoid having to crap in the school's restrooms. You hear him grunt slightly as he continues pushing out the strand of waste, which causes his piss jet to pulse with slightly more force with each exertion. Finally, after going for about a foot the brown rope detaches and lands behind the boy with a quiet rustle on the grass below. Your brother's pee arc is also diminishing as well, his piss tank gradually reaching full drainage. He pushes a little harder and his stubby sprayer gives one final burst before dribbling off to a conclusion.\n\nYou remark at your surprise on how much pee he had in him. “Heh heh...yeah,” he tells you, a little more relaxed than before. “I always seem to go longer than Bobby or Nathan when we race!” T.M.I., little dude, T-M-I...although in the back of your mind you question why you would bother saying that while you're willingly watching this kid take a dump and kind of enjoying it at that.\n\nFinished? He shakes his head. He's got more? “Yeah, that was just the poop that came out `cause I was peeing.” He takes his hand out from between his legs and rests it back on his knee, mirroring his other arm. Note to self: let him use your hand sanitizer when he's finished. His short member resumes its natural, relaxed position between his thighs, a few straggling droplets falling off the tip. You as the aloof older brother continue to combat the swarm of awkward thoughts that keep flying into your consciousness. Why do you keep getting yourself caught up with this kid's need to relieve himself at the most inopportune times and why can't you seem to look away? You've already had to accompany this brat on a previous impromptu visit to the back-alley urinal during your trip into the city in the spring and here you are now willingly subjecting yourself to watching him defecate. You don't [i]have[/i] to watch - after all aren't we all owed a little privacy whilst crapping - yet you engineered the situation specifically so you could. You saw him as a baby get his diapers changed or the successes and failures of mom and dad's attempts at potty training, his bodily functions are well-known to you and there's nothing new to see there. Not to mention that he [i]literally[/i] peed [i]your[/i] pants on that city trip so you have been as close as an older brother should [i]ever[/i] have to be to the emissions of his younger sibling. Anyone would have had enough of this for one lifetime...and yet you keep coming back for more.\n\nNow fully able to focus his attention on going number two your little bro tenses up. You can see all his muscular energy is going into his pelvic region. The amount of tension causes the last bits of urine still stubbornly residing in his bladder to escape from his bits. They land on his underwear but at least it's not much more than what one would normally leave behind after a piss. You quickly avert your eyes in a facetious attempt at “keeping watch” but he's too focused on pooping to notice your gaze returning to his groin. You ask him if he'd rather be doing that squatting. “No...it's...easier like...this...” he says between strains. His pipe must be pretty clogged from being held back for so long if he has to push so hard yet had to go so badly.\n\nJust then a new chunk of brown begins emerging from the gap between his legs. This one's a thicker log, which explains why he's having to try so hard. The hairs on your arms become electrified at the sight - disgusting yet undeniably intriguing and fascinating. You can watch your pee stream anytime you want but pooping...you have to admit to yourself that it really requires viewing another in the act to take in the full extent of the experience. You can see your brother exerting then relaxing as he works on forcing out the foul beast, each round pushing the log a little further down between his thighs. After churning out another foot or so of sausage he clips it and lets it drop before letting out a breathy sigh. You can't help but chime in and ask if that made him feel better. He responds by nodding rapidly and enthusiastically. You can tell his stamina is a little low after dropping that turd - heck you'd probably have a little trouble with it yourself.\n\n“Hang on, I got a little more...” he informs you, still in the position. He starts pushing again. This time a small dangler emerges between his legs then drops almost immediately onto the pile at his rear. He pushes a little harder and a small fart escapes his void. You can't help but let out a muffled giggle. “Sh-shut up!” he snaps at you, almost giggling himself. You can't believe you just succumbed to such immaturity but at a time like this you suppose any amount of levity is needed. It's not like either of you are going to be any less embarrassed or awkward coming out of this. He resumes his focus on getting the remaining poop out of his system and another handful of chunks exit his backside. After the last bit falls you see him go through a couple more push and release cycles as a final check for any remaining bulk but nothing new drops.\n\n“I...I think I'm done,” your brother tells you with the last of his waste being successfully ejected. He straightens his posture but his pants remain undone. He lifts his shirt slightly to rub his now-empty gut and turns his head towards the mound of turds nestled in the grass to his rear. “Woah...” he says in awe, his eyes widening at the mass of poop and surprising even himself at how much he had been packing away. You notice as he looks away that his little lump is starting to tingle and harden - getting a glimpse of the full extent of what his butt was capable of unloading must have excited him a bit. While a distinctly kiddy fascination you can empathize, albeit for different reasons. Having satisfactorily assessed his self-made monument to a previously enjoyed meal he pulls his underwear back up over his groin then lifts his pants back into position before buttoning and zipping them up.\n\nYou return your brother's backpack, and he slips his arms through the loops and over his shoulders. You also reach into your own backpack and pull out your small bottle of hand sanitizer. You gesture to him to hold out his hands and you squirt some gel onto them so he can disinfect his hands. As he wipes the remaining sanitizer off his hands you comment that he's gonna have to get over this someday but just as you get the words out your brother unexpectedly runs over and gives you a hug around your waist. An expression of confusion that vaguely sounds like “Whuh” exits your mouth over the weird show of affection. “Thanks, big bro,” he tells you. The tone of his voice is steeped in sincerity. You ask him what for. “Thanks for not getting mad at me for not pooping at school,” he explains, still hugging you. “Sorry for making you do all this with me.” You give him a slow but soft pat on the back to reciprocate the sentiment while looking over at the mushy pile of your brother's droppings. Yeah, the dumb baby made you take care of him when he wouldn't do it himself but...you also got something out of it yourself so maybe it wasn't such a bad time. But obviously [i]he[/i] can never know that...\n\nYou finally arrive home after your long walk. As you reach for the front doorknob you look back at your little brother and discreetly tell him to go upstairs and clean up then change his underwear right away since he couldn't wipe earlier. He responds by nodding affirmatively. You open the door and announce that you're home to anyone in the house. Your kid brother bolts past you by ducking under your arm and heads up the stairs to the second floor where his bedroom is. You make your way towards the kitchen where your mom is unloading groceries.\n\n“Hi hon, you're home awful late,” she says as you walk in. You remind her about the detour you had to take. “Yeah, I saw your text, but I figured you'd still be home by now even if you were taking Pawney to get here.” You look at your phone and see it's 4:27 P.M. You shrug and offer nothing for running behind, opening the fridge and taking out a can of soda.\n\n“Where's your brother?” she asks. You mention that he just ran upstairs after you opened the front door as you crack the can top open and take a small swig. You don't know what he was in such a hurry for even though you definitely do.\n\n“Sure hope it wasn't because he didn't want to use the bathroom at school again,” she said in a concerned tone as she puts a box of cereal into the upper cabinet. You choke on your drink slightly and your eyes enlarge. Uh...didn't seem that way, your eyes involuntarily darting over having to lie about that exact thing. “Thanks for walking him home, sweetie, you're such a caring brother!” she tells you with a warm smile, seemingly not interested in dwelling on the subject. She plants a kiss on your cheek as she passes by while you're in the middle of another sip of soda to keep your mouth busy so you won't be expected to answer any further questions about your voyage to the house.\n\nAfter mom exits you lean against the corner counter, continuing to drink down your beverage. Your little brother bounds into the kitchen in your mom's place, greeting her as they pass by. You don't turn in his direction but give him a slight glance to acknowledge his presence. Did he take care of everything? “Yep, we're good!” he said in a sing-song tone, snapping the waistband of his shorts to show he heeded your words. You sarcastically say you're “[i]sooo[/i] proud” before walking to the kitchen island. You set down your soda and pull out your phone to visit Friendspace again.\n\n“You know, bro, you've watched me go a bunch of times now,” he says to you. “I think you owe me one.” What? “Yeah, I wanna see you go outside like you made me do!” He's gotta be kidding, you actually know how to control your bathroom needs properly. “So? I still wanna see it!” You wrinkle your muzzle and crush the empty soda can in your hand. At a loss for words you gingerly sputter out that you'll see what you can do.\n\n“Heh, that'll be fun!” he says, taking your words as a future commitment. He sets off for the family PC in the corner of the dining room area to catch up on that WulfByte episode he had his sights set on at the start of this ordeal. You roll your eyes and resume scrolling down your Friendspace feed but his words still swirl around in your mind. Was he serious? Should you actually grant his request if you get a chance? What a little brat, asking you to poop for him just because you had to twist his arm a couple of times to go in weird places himself. Who would do such a thing? A dumb baby, that's who...", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "3:41 P.M.

Your eyes look upon the clock on your phone's lock screen as you stand outside the gate to Powell Elementary School. Below the time displayed, in smaller digits, the current temperature reading.

71 F

A fair temperature for the present hour. You are reminded of the autumn season as a slow breeze blows by, cooling your face under the mild sunlight. You always find this time of year uplifting to your spirits. Putting the heat of summer behind you while not yet into the thick of winter when you'd be bundling up and struggling to keep your paws even remotely warm - a fox's fur sometimes just isn't thick enough. The leaves on the trees gradually turning to a familiar tan and brown to usher in the end of year cooldown. It's especially nice on days when you've got soccer practice as you find the mix of warmth and coolness to increase your vigor, not being overcome by sweltering fatigue or joint stiffness that the hottest or coldest months could bring. You unlock your phone and tap the app provided by the public school system. It opens and you select the “Pickup” option from the choices presented, thumbing the green “I'm Here” button before relocking your device and slipping it into the back pocket of your jeans.

The walk over from Oak Bend High School was a brisk seven minutes. On days when soccer practice isn't on the agenda you find yourself having to detour to Powell Elementary on the walk home from campus. That's because your parents don't really want to pay the babysitter Melinda to walk your little brother home when you're already available. You're such a good brother to take the time - the thought simply fills you with sarcastic elation. You've been in this routine now for the past year, ever since your baby brother started kindergarten. Well, guess someone needs to take care of it, why not you? At least none of your friends come this way on their way home so no one's around to see you escorting the dumb baby. You hope that this will be the last school year that you'll be called upon and that your parents will trust him to make his way home by himself in second grade. Plus, it's not all bad - your dad basically guaranteed that you'd be getting his old car when you're old enough to drive as thanks for walking the little snot home so faithfully (and assuming your grades hold up). Next year can't come soon enough...although you rationalize that'll mean your parents might want you to pick him up in the car instead of walking home...you'll never win.

“Big bro!” a peppy little voice calls out from beyond the exit gates leading to the school's car loop. You snap out of your absorption of the midday fall weather and see the shrimpy fox kit that shares your parents charging your way, his bushy little tail wagging vigorously creating an orange swish in his wake. Because of his small-ish frame the backpack he wears always seems a little too big on him, coming all the way down to his butt and flopping behind him as he bounds forward. Again, good to know no one you know from school uses this route to get home. You ask him why he's in such a hurry.

“'Cuz it's Thursday!” he informs you, turning as he passes and reversing his stride. “I wanna get home and watch the new WulfByte on Blik Blok!” He whips back around and resumes his full pace.

Oh, right. Earlier in the year the Wunder Wulf Blik Blok channel began uploading weekly short episodes to set up the upcoming season, which was set to tie back to the movie. Admittedly while the show is beneath your standards the amount of thought that a kid's show was putting in to create a cohesive plotline comes as a surprise to you, given how easily they could just shove any old thing on the air and the kiddies would lap it up.

As you let your kid brother get ahead of you with his eager footwork a buzz in your pocket catches your attention. You pull out your cell phone and read the notification - flipping off the silence toggle as you do, remembering that your phone was silenced for the school day.

Phoebe to all
Video call tonight for Mr. Luken's class? Milestone 1 is coming up.

Snap, the first milestone of your bio group project for fourth period is due next week. You and the rest of the group agreed to get together online to discuss your submission sometime during the week. The due date had admittedly gotten lost in the clutter that was your high school existence, between soccer practice and that essay contest you entered for English class - although thankfully you had made some time for it over the past weekend, so your contribution is ready to be merged with the rest of the group's. The now-unsilenced phone lets out a soft “ping” sound and a new notification scrolls in.

Mark to all
yeah at debate practice rn but ill be home at 530 so how about 6

You start typing your own response, letting the group chat know you're walking home right now and should be there in about 15-20 so 6 shouldn't be a problem but your mom does like to have dinner ready around 7:30. Your message sent you relock the phone and slide it back into your jeans pocket.

Your attention returns to your kid brother walking ahead of you. Eh, nothing else to do, might as well engage. You ask him if he did anything fun at school that day.

“Well...uh...” he falters, collecting his scattershot kid brain to recall the day's events. “Oh! Ms. Kylie showed us a video on how the ocean tides work during science. Did you know it's `cause of the moon?”

You tilt your head to the side slightly and find your mouth curling into a small smile. Despite his status as the “dumb baby” you can't deny that the kid seems to enjoy being at school and learning. You find that admirable in a quaint way, although maybe it's because all the years you've spent grinding away at school life dulled that enthusiasm and it'll probably happen to him too.

“What about you?” he asks, turning around and walking backwards again so he can face you.

You think about your own day for a brief moment. Fun? You wouldn't say anything you did was “fun”, although getting a 93% on your Algebra II quiz was pretty cool since you weren't entirely sure you had understood Tuesday's assignment. And you're really getting into the book you've been reading for Mrs. Dempsey's English class and kind of want to get started on the report for next week since you've got a lot you want to put into your summary.

Your brother shoots you a slightly incredulous look. “C'mon, that stuff doesn't sound fun! You like that stuff? All the stuff we read is sooo boring when I gotta do it!” he tells you without any consideration for sharing like he did.

Your eyes flare up and your muzzle curls with contempt at your brother's childish dismissiveness. Oh, so only he's allowed to have fun at school? You hastily swing your backpack off your right shoulder and yank the zipper aside. You pull out your 450-page biology textbook and show it to the little twerp. School ain't as much fun when this is the size of the textbooks, huh? And all the projects you have to spend day after day working on instead of hanging out with your friends because that isn't the only homework you're responsible for. No, of course not, he's just a happy-go-lucky first grader without a care in the world. Worst thing that'll happen in his day is that it'll be too rainy to play on the playground at recess, right? And homework? “'Write the letter `C' ten times and add seven plus three,' this gonna take aaaalll night!” Now when will he find the necessary three hours per day to play Gobrox! Meanwhile you haven't even been able to get a measly hour to yourself to play Modern Warfur 2 in four days. It'll catch up to him soon enough and then he'll understand, dumb baby.

“Okay, sorry, didn't know you were so serious about it!” he replies, unapologetically oblivious to what life is like past the first grade. You simply roll your eyes and say nothing, knowing that he's just too young to grasp the demands of the lowly high schooler. You zip your textbook back into your backpack then loop your arm back through the loose strap. “And I don't play Gobrox for three hours a day!” he retorts with an indignant huff, turning back to walking forwards again. “Dad always kicks me off at dinner time...” he quietly pouts, gripping his backpack straps in both hands. You chuckle just loud enough for him to hear - guess the little squat still has his own problems to deal with every now and then.

You continue following your brother as you walk down the street. For such a little kid he's surprisingly hard to keep up with at your casual stride. The call of the Wunder Wulf is a mighty one, you surmise to yourself. Soon you're both approaching the entrance to Colby Park, which is a shortcut to get back to your subdivision on the other side. You have your eyes on your phone, scrolling through your Friendspace feed to see if anyone was talking about the football game against Elmont High from last night.

“Oh no!” your brother's high-pitched voice rings out, taking away your attention from the Friendspace app. You look up and see your little brother standing in front of the park entrance. Around the entrance are white and orange wooden barricades preventing access along with orange plastic mesh covering the gaps between the barricades. “Big bro, we can't go through here!” he says, pointing to the blocked-off entrance. You put your phone away and walk over to him with a frown on your face. You wonder aloud if the whole park is closed off or just part of it. You notice an adult bear wearing a hard hat and a neon green vest walking in your direction and wave him down. When he's close enough you ask for an explanation for the barricade.

“Whole park needs an emergency plumbing repair,” he explains. “It'll be closed for the next three days minimum, unfortunately.” You explain that you live on the opposite side of the park and that cutting through shaves off at least 10 minutes from your trip. You ask if it'd be okay to come in if that's all you were doing. “No can do, sorry,” he respectfully shoots you down. “Order of P&R - can't let anyone use the park until the job's done. It's all hands on deck to get it done soon as we can. Love to help if I could but...can't risk it.”

You frown again at the lack of cooperation but can clearly see that you're at an impasse. You tell your brother that there's nothing that can be done and that you'll just have to take the long way home by using Pawney St. instead. You tap your brother on the shoulder as you pass by to indicate where you're headed and pull out your phone to text your mom that you're going to be getting home later than you planned. At least the weather is nice for the longer walk, as some cloud cover rolls in to provide a bit of breeze. However, as you finish your text to mom you look up from your phone and see that your brother hasn't moved from the spot - he's simply standing at the park entrance looking into the off-limits pathway through the park, a frustrated and miffed expression overtakes his earlier enthusiasm. You call out to him and tell him to snap out of it - it's not going to change anything so just get moving. As your little brother starts walking again you can see a somewhat stiff briskness in his step and his glare is one of locked focus. Also, as he passes by you could have sworn that you heard him let out a small whimper. You narrow your eyes as you watch him continue onwards, noting the unusually vertical posture he had assumed while walking. His hands are still clutching his backpack straps like he was when you called him out on how much Gobrox he plays but now you notice how...pent-up he appears to be.

You and he continue walking towards the intersection of Pine Needle Dr. and Pawney St. A few cars pass you by but it's a mostly quiet afternoon, making for a relaxing walk in spite of the detour. However that same serenity that you are making the most of in your mind has also drawn an unusual amount of attention to your little brother ahead of you. He's still seeming to be in a state of...funk? You find it hard to decipher. There's no way that a simple park closure would make him so upset, even if it did force you off your usual route home. It's not like WulfBytes is going anywhere if he gets home a little later than normal. Furthermore you notice that his walk is somewhat...fidgety? As you turn the corner to Pawney St. you take note of how zig-zaggy his stride is. Every now and then you also see him twist his body slightly and adjust the backpack on his back, even though it shouldn't be that difficult for him to carry it normally since he's not carrying any textbooks around at his age.

You can't help but ask him if he's okay, mildly befuddled by his behavior. He stops and looks back at you. “Ah...I'm okay,” he tells you with some hesitation. “I...just wanna get home and watch WulfBytes before I gotta do my homework, that's all. I've been waiting all day to see it. They're supposed to reveal the new bad guy for the next season...” he trails off then starts walking again, this time noticeably slower but still with some purpose. However the body language your little bro was putting forward told a different story to his words. His eyes were indirect as he spoke to you, looking left and right with a sense of subdued urgency. He moved his feet multiple times even though he was stationary, as if he didn't want to stop moving but stopped simply to give the illusion that everything was fine. He was tugging on his backpack straps, like he was stressed out and needed a way to relieve the physical pressure. A kid his age doesn't have the sense of self-awareness to notice these little tics that give away more than what their mouth is saying but it doesn't take much for a casual glance to tell otherwise.

You let out a small sigh and begin thinking back to when you picked him up at the school exit. He was in a hurry back then too - supposedly motivated by the new WulfByte drop as he claims but now you see it in a different light. Then there was the rather distressed reaction he had to the park being closed. An inconvenience, sure, but not one that would have elicited such a dramatic reaction unless there was something else driving his response. And again, the way he seemed to be gripping his backpack straps, frequently tugging at them or pulling them in close to his chest. He'd been doing it all the way down here even if you hadn't noticed it as much until now. Putting it all together you come to realize the signs of what you're seeing, and you've been down this road before.

Late last year you and the family visited the Isles of Intrigue theme park for winter break. You all had a blast, your little brother included. He really enjoyed the various rides and taking pictures with all the animatronic creatures. However, there was one day of that trip that sticks out in your mind. Your parents had let your brother go to the bathroom by himself. He was old enough to handle that without needing help but unfortunately his small body meant that the automatic flushing sensor couldn't easily pick up that he was still using the toilet. So, while he was still seated the auto-flusher triggered. Oh boy did he let out a huge scream, you could hear it all the way outside of the bathroom. Both you and your dad had rushed in to see the source of the commotion and when your dad opened the stall your little brother ran to him so fast he didn't even pull up his pants. He had peed on the floor in his panic to get off the seat and he was basically inconsolable for hours. Thankfully he was alone in the restroom, or someone might have called park security. Even that time he got himself stuck on the roof after climbing a nearby tree and your mom had to call a neighbor with a ladder to save him had managed to pass in quicker order - and he was pretty freaked-out by that experience too, as you recall. The family agreed to cut that day at the park short and it still took quite a bit of convincing to get him to go back the following day. He still enjoyed the park in the aftermath but there was no doubt that moment really messed with the kid's head.

Ever since that day he hated going into public toilet stalls. With enough convincing sometimes your parents could sell him on the idea of going with their help but not always. This would lead to some close calls and there was at least one incident where he messed himself since the park trip, although you had only heard that story after the fact. But by himself? Out of the question. Didn't matter if it was an auto-flusher or one with a handle, he wasn't going near those alone. Unfortunately, when you spend all day at school the urge to poop sometimes strikes and all that left your brother with was trying to survive until that sweet stroke of 3:30 P.M. when you would come to his rescue and whisk him back home to the safety of your non-intimidating toilet. You have a couple of experiences of your own where the walk home was more like a race against the clock...or rather your brother's digestive system. You were fortunate none of those times ended badly but your little brother flinging open the front door, tossing his backpack into the corner of the foyer, and vanishing behind the first-floor guest bathroom door was a sight you had been there to witness more than once. Your mom had addressed her concerns to his kindergarten teacher near the end of the previous school year and the conclusion was that, while annoying and possibly messy, it wasn't something that was going to be a permanent fear and he would mature out of it soon enough. Trying to force him to confront his fear would probably be unproductive and it was something that had to work its way out on its own. Sadly, that meant you were still left dealing with times like this until he came around and it just so happened that today's episode came when the shortest route between the school and the bathroom in your house was rerouted by, ironically, a plumbing mishap. Up until now you had never called him out on his reluctance to poop at school, simply letting him hold his torrent in silence and fake bravado, but it seemed this time there was no avoiding it.

You're about halfway down Pawney by this point and your little brother's pace has drastically slowed, no longer able to maintain his rush to salvation and instead dragging himself towards the finish. His steps are clearly labored, his hand positions constantly creeping towards his tail and backside, the only compunction being his desire to keep his urgency a secret from your judgmental eyes and subsequent ridicule. You know he's gone from speed to caution because the impending point of no return is uncomfortably close, and any wrong move would be the death of his underwear. There's no doubt now; it's going to happen before you arrive home and you're going to have to step in if this poor baby is going to stop pretending like everything is fine and he isn't about to unload a septic tank's worth of sludge somewhere unpleasant. In your mind you agonize over how it's come to this, that you're going to have to confront your little bro over his bowel denial. It's almost as if you can feel your teeth grinding at the notion, though your jaw remains steadfast as you suppress the physical reaction you so feel like expressing.

You swallow down your remaining inhibitions and make your move. You ask him again if he's sure he's feeling okay, this time entirely rhetorical. “Y-yeah...” he weakly stammers. “I just don't like this way home, stupid...park...” You tell him to stop and quit pretending. Your brother slows to a halt and looks your way. “Pretending?” he asks, feigning confusion. Time to call him on the carpet: he's gotta use the bathroom and didn't want to go when he was at school. That's the real reason he was in such a hurry before and why now he can't seem to go any faster.

“Nuh-uh!” he protests, not doing a great job hiding that he's been caught in his tone. “I don't gotta-” You stop him there. You already figured it out and now it's a problem for the both of you. He takes a quick look around, direly trying to find some sort of distraction or out to avoid having to come clean but to no avail. He gingerly makes eye contact again and his eyes begin tearing up as he begins slowly nodding his head, having run out of runway to keep up his denials. You let out a groan as you walk towards your beleaguered younger sibling and mention that it isn't healthy to hold poop for so long. Great, you're channeling dad now. But as the closest thing to an adult at the moment that's just something that has to be accepted, you suppose. “The bathrooms at the school are uncomfortable to use and the seats are always too cold!” he protested in his defense of holding it in, now basically on the verge of full-on crying. Yeah, no, that's not it but it isn't important right now.

You take a quick glance around. You aren't used to walking down this street normally so you aren't aware of any spots that might make for a good place to for doing...that. The roadside is undeveloped, covered in medium-sized trees but you can't see an easy way to slip between them to get your bro out of sight.

Your brother starts to figure out where this is heading. “Hey, I'm okay now, let's just go home!” he says with a sniff, trying to soldier on despite the overwhelming weight that's pushing against his rump. You give him a knowing look and shake your head. Nice words and hope aren't going to do a lot of good about keeping his pants clean. “I'm not gonna poop myself, honest!” Yeah, he's got that right. You continue scanning for a sanctum of relief for this dumb baby.

Finally your eye catches it: about 70 feet ahead you see a power station on the other side of the street nestled amongst the trees. There are metal power poles poking above the treeline with wires spanning over the treetops and connecting to the other wooden poles nearby to carry the lines to their destinations. In front of the station is a small cleared-away space but is still obscured with a line of short shrubs encircling the fence that separates the station from the roadway. Thank goodness you had to come down here if there was any road that you were going to detour on. You ask your younger sibling if he can make it across the street. “I guess so, why?” he asks. You point to the power station and say you're taking him over there. “What's over there?” he says but you grab him by the hand and lead him across Pawney St. towards the power station. If he hasn't figured it out by now there's no point in explaining it.

The quick burst of activity from pulling him behind you momentarily distracts him from his plight and your brother is able to keep up until you duck behind the small bushes surrounding the power station. “Wait!” he cries as you let go of his hand. Wait for what? “Why'd we go over here?” he quips. You roll your eyes and tell him it should be obvious. Having come to a rest his body's need for relief begins manifesting externally once more, your brother's knees bowing and his feet shifting around. “No!” he protests, still trying to get you to reconsider. You say this is the only suitable place around so he's going to have to get it over with. You point to the spot where the trees surrounding the power station resume and tell him to go there - no one's gonna see him from that angle.

“Can't we just go hooome?!” he pleads. Uh-uh, no way. You kept your promise by covering for his little boo-boo on the subway earlier that year but there's no way you were going to be able to explain to mom why your brother is walking through the door reeking of you-know-what or how his underwear had “mysteriously vanished” on the walk home. While you didn't exactly care what would happen to him if mom or dad learned he had another accident you would probably have to face some consequence of your own for letting it get to that point. If you were expected to be responsible for him then this is how it's gonna play out. “But someone could still see me!” he objects, even though his short body doesn't reach over the bush line facing the street. You say to him no one's gonna see and strike back by “reminding” him that he got himself into this mess by being afraid of using the toilets at school.

Your brother's eyes widen but he doesn't rebuff, his silence indicating he had been thoroughly licked and it was time to accept that he was the architect of his own predicament. He walks to the spot you suggested and removes his backpack. You reach out saying you'll hold his stuff and take it from him. He has a frown on his face but something you understand about the situation is that, despite any protests he might have about having to relieve himself in an undesirable place, he's still at that age where the importance of getting one's pants out of the way of what's coming can always trump the possibility of being caught in the act. Perhaps it's the lingering sense of accomplishment that comes from being a “big boy” during potty training that still holds a measure of value - even into the first grade. A time when your parents emphasized the one place that's off-limits when it's time to go is his underwear and that there can be times where getting to the potty itself has to be met with compromise in order to make that happen. Maybe doing so in public carries a little more reservation at this age but still not enough to ignore when the time has come and the shorts have got to come down.

“Promise you won't make fun of me...?” he asks meekly, his hands at the button on the waist of his tan khaki shorts. The thought of telling him “I'll let you know after you're done,” pops into your head but you shove it down - he's suffered enough and, admittedly, this situation wouldn't be anyone's best hour, little kid or no. You silently nod your head to assure him that you won't undermine his dignity in the aftermath. You mention that you'll stand where you are since it gives you the best view of the roadway to ensure no one catches a glimpse of what's about to happen. Your brother nods back as he undoes the button on his shorts and slowly lowers the zipper.

That, however, was a lie. You chose your position not because it granted you a better view of what's coming down the street but because of the view you have of him. Inside your mind you find your thoughts are awash with conflicting and confusing thoughts about your own feelings. Why do you feel this urge to watch this? You've noticed these feelings before. That strange allure you have to your little brother's figure - it's unnatural yet you can't resist it. He's so helpless sometimes but you find that...cute? Whatever intrigue you have about catching him in these private moments comes with a strange mix of condescension, curiosity, naughty arousal, and...dare you say protectiveness? That you, being the older brother, must step in and make choices in his best interest that he won't or can't make himself and there is a level of personal satisfaction you draw from it, even if does mean having to be present for...this.

Your brother's pants sufficiently undone he reaches into the waistband and begins lowering his shorts, still slowly. You catch a glimpse of the little guy's...“little guy” as his underpants move beyond his thighs, sheathed in orange fur at the base of the white patch on his belly. You feel your own underwear getting less spacious as your eyes widen involuntarily. What is it about this experience that touches you in such a sensual way? You're both boys, you've got one too - yet seeing his still makes you feel funny. Maybe it's the lack of restraint he has for doing this in front of others that you in some way still yearn for - after all he never objected to you standing where you are, just your demands for him to relieve himself right here and now. Even if you are his brother the thought of taking a dump or even removing your underwear in front of someone else is a notion you've long since abandoned and being able to experience it vicariously hits you in a sweet spot.

His shorts sufficiently clearing his butthole he leans forward so his plain gray t-shirt doesn't drape over his backside, spreading his legs wider and puts his hands on his knees. His tail hikes up above the “exit” and helps prevent his shirt from entering the drop zone. He isn't assuming a full seated crouch like you initially expected. As a result of this position when he lets go of his shorts, they freely drop around his ankles and only the elastic Wunder Wulf-patterned briefs stay suspended between his stretched knees.

Suddenly a practical thought enters your head and you tell him to hold on. “Huh? Why?” he asks, somewhat unappreciative of being taken out of the moment he had to ready himself for. You point out he's gonna piss on his underwear from that position. Either pee first or aim backwards. “Oh...” he remarks, now noticing the problem himself, looking down between his legs and seeing how his short length won't clear his underwear without some guidance. Your brother stands up straight and lifts the hem of his shirt up for clearance with his left hand, revealing more of his belly patch while grabbing onto his dick with his other hand. Once again you feel naughty arousal rising on your back and groin as the kit's member is pointing right in your direction. Thank goodness your jeans are loose or you'd definitely be showing. You reflexively lick your lips in anticipation.

He attempts to get the flow going but immediately cuts it off after releasing a scant few drops. He lets go of his shirt and looks up at you. What's the matter? “I...I can't,” he tells you. Can't what? “I can't pee without pooping.” Oh, so he's having trouble doing those separately. He nods and you suggest just aiming backwards then. “Okay...” he replies obediently. He leans forward again into his original position and puts one hand between his legs to push his stumpy wiener in the other direction.

The young fox begins shooting out a slow, dribbly stream of urine towards his rear. You lean your head slightly to the right to get a better angle at his pee arc. You can tell that he's trying to resist pooping even now, hence why he isn't letting his stream hit full flow. Just then his pee cuts off again and he freezes, his facial expression turning to one of unexpected paralysis. Immediately after a brown nugget falls from his backside and hits the grassy ground with a soft pat. You see it drop from between his slightly bowed knees. “I...I didn't mean to...” he stammers, caught off guard by his body taking control and relaxing his ring without his consent. You know that would have been the turd that would have found itself in his pants had you let things play out to his desire.

You tell him there's no going back now and...uh...just do what feels...natural? You pause and collect your thoughts before blurting out that you're not going to explain the mechanics of pooping, hoping to just get things moving again. “Yeah, uh-huh...” your little bro concurs. He bends forward again and resumes peeing, this time more forcefully, no longer concerned that relieving his bladder could also trigger his butthole. With the less restrained stream you can clearly see the golden arc of liquid spraying behind him, which hits the grass with a satisfying and distinct fizz. That unsettling tingle works its way from the soles of your feet to your pelvis once more. Why does this keep happening?

Now unbound by the lack of resistance to having both happen at once you see a thin length of poop begin descending from the boy's rump, slithering down gradually from between his thighs and extending with each bit of movement from the young kit's abdomen. Your brother still hasn't fully evacuated his bladder either, clearly having been holding onto a substantial amount of liquid just to avoid having to crap in the school's restrooms. You hear him grunt slightly as he continues pushing out the strand of waste, which causes his piss jet to pulse with slightly more force with each exertion. Finally, after going for about a foot the brown rope detaches and lands behind the boy with a quiet rustle on the grass below. Your brother's pee arc is also diminishing as well, his piss tank gradually reaching full drainage. He pushes a little harder and his stubby sprayer gives one final burst before dribbling off to a conclusion.

You remark at your surprise on how much pee he had in him. “Heh heh...yeah,” he tells you, a little more relaxed than before. “I always seem to go longer than Bobby or Nathan when we race!” T.M.I., little dude, T-M-I...although in the back of your mind you question why you would bother saying that while you're willingly watching this kid take a dump and kind of enjoying it at that.

Finished? He shakes his head. He's got more? “Yeah, that was just the poop that came out `cause I was peeing.” He takes his hand out from between his legs and rests it back on his knee, mirroring his other arm. Note to self: let him use your hand sanitizer when he's finished. His short member resumes its natural, relaxed position between his thighs, a few straggling droplets falling off the tip. You as the aloof older brother continue to combat the swarm of awkward thoughts that keep flying into your consciousness. Why do you keep getting yourself caught up with this kid's need to relieve himself at the most inopportune times and why can't you seem to look away? You've already had to accompany this brat on a previous impromptu visit to the back-alley urinal during your trip into the city in the spring and here you are now willingly subjecting yourself to watching him defecate. You don't have to watch - after all aren't we all owed a little privacy whilst crapping - yet you engineered the situation specifically so you could. You saw him as a baby get his diapers changed or the successes and failures of mom and dad's attempts at potty training, his bodily functions are well-known to you and there's nothing new to see there. Not to mention that he literally peed your pants on that city trip so you have been as close as an older brother should ever have to be to the emissions of his younger sibling. Anyone would have had enough of this for one lifetime...and yet you keep coming back for more.

Now fully able to focus his attention on going number two your little bro tenses up. You can see all his muscular energy is going into his pelvic region. The amount of tension causes the last bits of urine still stubbornly residing in his bladder to escape from his bits. They land on his underwear but at least it's not much more than what one would normally leave behind after a piss. You quickly avert your eyes in a facetious attempt at “keeping watch” but he's too focused on pooping to notice your gaze returning to his groin. You ask him if he'd rather be doing that squatting. “No...it's...easier like...this...” he says between strains. His pipe must be pretty clogged from being held back for so long if he has to push so hard yet had to go so badly.

Just then a new chunk of brown begins emerging from the gap between his legs. This one's a thicker log, which explains why he's having to try so hard. The hairs on your arms become electrified at the sight - disgusting yet undeniably intriguing and fascinating. You can watch your pee stream anytime you want but pooping...you have to admit to yourself that it really requires viewing another in the act to take in the full extent of the experience. You can see your brother exerting then relaxing as he works on forcing out the foul beast, each round pushing the log a little further down between his thighs. After churning out another foot or so of sausage he clips it and lets it drop before letting out a breathy sigh. You can't help but chime in and ask if that made him feel better. He responds by nodding rapidly and enthusiastically. You can tell his stamina is a little low after dropping that turd - heck you'd probably have a little trouble with it yourself.

“Hang on, I got a little more...” he informs you, still in the position. He starts pushing again. This time a small dangler emerges between his legs then drops almost immediately onto the pile at his rear. He pushes a little harder and a small fart escapes his void. You can't help but let out a muffled giggle. “Sh-shut up!” he snaps at you, almost giggling himself. You can't believe you just succumbed to such immaturity but at a time like this you suppose any amount of levity is needed. It's not like either of you are going to be any less embarrassed or awkward coming out of this. He resumes his focus on getting the remaining poop out of his system and another handful of chunks exit his backside. After the last bit falls you see him go through a couple more push and release cycles as a final check for any remaining bulk but nothing new drops.

“I...I think I'm done,” your brother tells you with the last of his waste being successfully ejected. He straightens his posture but his pants remain undone. He lifts his shirt slightly to rub his now-empty gut and turns his head towards the mound of turds nestled in the grass to his rear. “Woah...” he says in awe, his eyes widening at the mass of poop and surprising even himself at how much he had been packing away. You notice as he looks away that his little lump is starting to tingle and harden - getting a glimpse of the full extent of what his butt was capable of unloading must have excited him a bit. While a distinctly kiddy fascination you can empathize, albeit for different reasons. Having satisfactorily assessed his self-made monument to a previously enjoyed meal he pulls his underwear back up over his groin then lifts his pants back into position before buttoning and zipping them up.

You return your brother's backpack, and he slips his arms through the loops and over his shoulders. You also reach into your own backpack and pull out your small bottle of hand sanitizer. You gesture to him to hold out his hands and you squirt some gel onto them so he can disinfect his hands. As he wipes the remaining sanitizer off his hands you comment that he's gonna have to get over this someday but just as you get the words out your brother unexpectedly runs over and gives you a hug around your waist. An expression of confusion that vaguely sounds like “Whuh” exits your mouth over the weird show of affection. “Thanks, big bro,” he tells you. The tone of his voice is steeped in sincerity. You ask him what for. “Thanks for not getting mad at me for not pooping at school,” he explains, still hugging you. “Sorry for making you do all this with me.” You give him a slow but soft pat on the back to reciprocate the sentiment while looking over at the mushy pile of your brother's droppings. Yeah, the dumb baby made you take care of him when he wouldn't do it himself but...you also got something out of it yourself so maybe it wasn't such a bad time. But obviously he can never know that...

You finally arrive home after your long walk. As you reach for the front doorknob you look back at your little brother and discreetly tell him to go upstairs and clean up then change his underwear right away since he couldn't wipe earlier. He responds by nodding affirmatively. You open the door and announce that you're home to anyone in the house. Your kid brother bolts past you by ducking under your arm and heads up the stairs to the second floor where his bedroom is. You make your way towards the kitchen where your mom is unloading groceries.

“Hi hon, you're home awful late,” she says as you walk in. You remind her about the detour you had to take. “Yeah, I saw your text, but I figured you'd still be home by now even if you were taking Pawney to get here.” You look at your phone and see it's 4:27 P.M. You shrug and offer nothing for running behind, opening the fridge and taking out a can of soda.

“Where's your brother?” she asks. You mention that he just ran upstairs after you opened the front door as you crack the can top open and take a small swig. You don't know what he was in such a hurry for even though you definitely do.

“Sure hope it wasn't because he didn't want to use the bathroom at school again,” she said in a concerned tone as she puts a box of cereal into the upper cabinet. You choke on your drink slightly and your eyes enlarge. Uh...didn't seem that way, your eyes involuntarily darting over having to lie about that exact thing. “Thanks for walking him home, sweetie, you're such a caring brother!” she tells you with a warm smile, seemingly not interested in dwelling on the subject. She plants a kiss on your cheek as she passes by while you're in the middle of another sip of soda to keep your mouth busy so you won't be expected to answer any further questions about your voyage to the house.

After mom exits you lean against the corner counter, continuing to drink down your beverage. Your little brother bounds into the kitchen in your mom's place, greeting her as they pass by. You don't turn in his direction but give him a slight glance to acknowledge his presence. Did he take care of everything? “Yep, we're good!” he said in a sing-song tone, snapping the waistband of his shorts to show he heeded your words. You sarcastically say you're “sooo proud” before walking to the kitchen island. You set down your soda and pull out your phone to visit Friendspace again.

“You know, bro, you've watched me go a bunch of times now,” he says to you. “I think you owe me one.” What? “Yeah, I wanna see you go outside like you made me do!” He's gotta be kidding, you actually know how to control your bathroom needs properly. “So? I still wanna see it!” You wrinkle your muzzle and crush the empty soda can in your hand. At a loss for words you gingerly sputter out that you'll see what you can do.

“Heh, that'll be fun!” he says, taking your words as a future commitment. He sets off for the family PC in the corner of the dining room area to catch up on that WulfByte episode he had his sights set on at the start of this ordeal. You roll your eyes and resume scrolling down your Friendspace feed but his words still swirl around in your mind. Was he serious? Should you actually grant his request if you get a chance? What a little brat, asking you to poop for him just because you had to twist his arm a couple of times to go in weird places himself. Who would do such a thing? A dumb baby, that's who...", "pools_count": 0, "title": "Walking Your Little Bro Home From School", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "application/msword", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "2", "name": "Nudity", "description": "Nonsexual nudity exposing breasts or genitals (must not show arousal)", "rating_id": "1" }, { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "5", "views": "837" }