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Food is scarce and the group's previous bastion was overrun by the undying horde. On foot, starving, freezing in the grip of winter, the struggling furs have to contend with a wave of zombies as they make their way through the ruins of a small town. Luckily Big Earl keeps a watch out for the cub, although the price paid is higher than either would have imagined!\n\nThis is a subscribestar [b]suggestion[/b] for [iconname]Sepfy[/iconname]\nThank you very much for the support!", "description_bbcode_parsed": "8-year-old Sepf is travelling with a band of survivors some 4 months into the apocalypse. Food is scarce and the group's previous bastion was overrun by the undying horde. On foot, starving, freezing in the grip of winter, the struggling furs have to contend with a wave of zombies as they make their way through the ruins of a small town. Luckily Big Earl keeps a watch out for the cub, although the price paid is higher than either would have imagined!

This is a subscribestar suggestion for \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\tSepfy\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\tSepfy\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t

Thank you very much for the support!", "writing": "Earl grunted as he slogged his way through the snow. It was at least 10 inches worth and the cold was seeping through his worn boots and his woolen socks although his body felt comfortably warm, just as much from his winter jacket as from his girthy belly. He rubbed his stomach, much diminished compared to before, although he still weighed more than 250 pounds if he had to take a guess. It growled back at him as he petted himself and he grimaced, feeling the hunger much like the rest of the group. \n\"Let's hope we find supplies in there, and a place to shelter, we'll die of exposure if we don't get away from that wind.\" Another fur said, a lanky fox who shivered as he put one boot-clad footpaw in front of the other, his skinny frame not providing much protection from the cold. \nEarl looked behind him, squinting as snow blew into his eyes, and he huffed as he watched the slow pace of the other survivors, some thirty of them in total. As always he sought out the cubs, the Saint Bernard being a former kindergarten teacher, and the dozen or so of them trudged along in the middle of the group, flanked by the women, the men making up the rear-guard, the sides and the front. \n\"Hey, Big E, come on, we have to keep some distance or else Walther is gonna chew us up!\" \nEarl frowned at that thought, the leader of their group of fairly fearsome and stern wolf with a decade in the marines under his belt, he had naturally assumed command, sometimes with direct threats of violence although he never spoke harshly to the kids, something the Saint Bernard appreciated.\n\nThey were headed down the main street of some town or other, car-wrecks were strewn about, some vehicles parked as if their owners were just inside this shop or that before driving home, snow-covered shapes that looked a little bit like beetles to the eye of the fat canine. At least if one had the imagination for it. He didn't share his thoughts with JimBob, who was a far too grounded a man for such frivolous thinking and he focused in on his main task, scouting for zombies and scouting for places that didn't look like they had been looted or burned. \nHalf the buildings here were actually burned, he noticed, one long streak of charred husks on his left paw, most of the ones on his right with windows shattered or boarded up. \nHe shivered as he recalled the last time Walther had made him enter such a building, \"clearing\" it he called it, \"no guns\" he would say. Just the canine and his trusty improvised club or the icepick he kept in a holster on his chest for close encounters. \nA whistle came from behind, and the canine and vulpine stopped in their tracks, JimBob jumping in place and slapping his arms against his body, Earl comfortable just standing still for a while, going so far as to sit down on the hood of a foreign-built sedan, springs creaking so noisily that the fox shushed him as he put his weight on it. \n\nThe main group came up and he sought out the cubs again, taking note of one of the cuter ones, a blue-furred wolf-fox hybrid named Sepf. His mom was close, a fire-ax in her gloved paw, and she shot the dog a wan smile that was still tainted with the sadness of losing her husband just a couple of weeks back, the red-maned wolf fairly attractive despite the bags under her eyes and the onset of white fur that was growing out of her scalp from the trauma of it all.\nThe one who has whistled was Walther, a stockily built wolf with a scowl on his face and heavy bandages over his right eye which had been near clawed out by a zombie a week ago. Blood and bites would turn you, but the turned would get you a nasty infection if they managed to scratch, and the former marine was ornery as the snow-peppered bandage showed yellow puss coming from underneath. \n\"Seen anything interesting?\" Earl and JimBob shook their heads, the Saint Bernard getting up, the car creaking loudly as it wobbled, some snow whooshing at it fell off in large clumps. Walther shot him a dirty look, then squinted at the buildings. They were close to the middle of the town now, the public library still standing proud and the former teacher wondered if they could scavenge for some children's books or comics for the little ones.\n\"Better use it as fuel for a fire, this cold is getting to me!\" The lanky fox complained and the wolf didn't seem like he cared much, although his expression lighted up as he considered the availability of easy fuel, much to the chagrin of Earl. \n\nAnother whistle rang out, from the side, and the whole group stared that way, where an alley led to a connecting street that veered off north-east, up to a wooded area. Running footsteps came down it and two of their scouts appeared, panting, eyes wide with fright. \n\"Zombies! Dozens of them coming up right behind us. We were checking out the school from the outside and they suddenly barged through the windows, almost as if they had been sheltering from the cold!\" \n\"Alright! No panic everyone. Cubs to the rear, you, you and you stay close to them, we will need every paw for this!\" Earl stepped up alongside the others, flanking the entrance to the alley in a semi-circle, the moans of the herd of zombies being audible now. Those terrifying, deep moans seemed to reverberate out to the street and echo down between the buildings and the Saint Bernard's blood froze cold as he heard answering groans coming from buildings to the left and right, barred shop-doors suddenly clattering open as shambling shapes made their way out. \nThe zombies weren't fast, moving slower than regular walking, but they always seemed to come in numbers and more doors clattered open, windows suddenly breaking, as the monsters entered the street on either side of the alley. Earl checked behind him, and he wondered idly if zombies could have been taking shelter in those burnt out buildings, but he didn't have time to look out as he and JimBob had to contend with the undying that came their way. \n\"Nice and easy. Keep your wits about you, strike for the head, don't shoot unless you have to!\" Again Walther's growling, authoritative voice that ended in a grunt as he embedded his ka-bar into the skull of what had once been an eldery bear lady, her crusty, bloodspattered nightgown fluttering as she went down. Earl had his own zombies to deal with, a little bovine cub who had been no older than 5, the print of action heroes on his t-shirt totally undamaged although his left arm ended in a stub and his face had been chewed halfway off, his lower jaw dangling like a wind-chime in the bitter gusts of snow. Earl grimaced as his improvised club met the cub's skull, smashing it in, the big Saint Bernard turning to the next zombie that was lounging at him, his boot slipping, the man yelping as his follow-up turned into a slide towards the slavering jaws of a turned pig who must have been a butcher, bloodstained apron covering a torn-open stomach, slightly steaming innards dragged along through the snow. \nJimBob came to his rescue, surefooted as his machete dug into the skull of the porcine zombie, Earl barely moving away as it went down in its death rattle. \n\"Fuck!\" He caved in another skull, feeling the dread of fighting the moaning horde. Then another. Two faced him, JimBob distracted one, got his machete tangled in the extended arms of the undead and had to step back while Earl finished the other one, brainmatter spattering about to taint the pristine snow. \nShouts, grunts and zombie moans filled the air as the survivors whittled down the number of zombies, but more came to, and even if they fought as methodically as possible, the group was tired, frozen and starved and movements grew more sluggish, each zombie taken down just that closer to harming someone. \n\nFor a moment the area around the fox and the dog was clear and Earl looked to the others, half a dozen slowly giving ground at the alley, a small mountain of the dead left in the fighting retreat, the other side of the street more clear with only stragglers appearing. \n\"Help!\" Suddenly the children were screaming, a cacophony that reverberated through the air, Earl already in motion as he saw a partially collapsed alleyway now brimming with the living dead, the women shouting, directing the cubs to the middle of the street as they faced the new threat. Sepf's mother brandished her fire-ax with a growl and hammered it through the skull of a zombie. It got stuck and as she growled and twisted at the weapon, three more came up, the woman yelping, slipping, falling backwards, the three shapes shambling as they bore down on her.\n\"Mom!\" Sepf darted close, the little cub kicking the leg of one of the monsters, causing it to stumble, but it was not enough and the woman screamed in pain as the first bite went through her lower leg, another zombie, this one a fat brown bear of the same size as Earl had been before the fall, practically enveloped her with its girth, slavering maw biting at her neck.\n\"MOMMY!\"\n\n\"Fuck!\" Earl was running as fast as he could, the zombie facing Sepf bearing down on the eight-year-old, and he managed to get there just in time, hammering into its chest with his shoulder, the much-lighter undead flying away with a groan that sounded almost surprised. \n\"Get back to the others Sepf!\" His yell didn't get through the cub's ears as he screamed and tried to get to his mother who was screaming in her death throes as she was eaten alive. \"COME HERE!\" He bellowed, picking up the folf, the boy screaming and wiggling like a freshly caught fish as the Saint Bernard dragged him towards the center, instructing one of the young teens to keep him in place. Earl rolled his shoulders and headed back, clobbering first one, then the other feasting zombie, shattering skulls and brains, more zombies coming on, the big man holding them back alongside the surviving women. His stomach felt itchy for some reason, but he had bigger things to be concerned about, facing down the creature that had attacked the boy, a lanky rodent whose arm ended in a bloody stump, jagged arm-bone glistening wetly. Earl struck it down and stepped back, the whole group eventually ending up in a circle with the kids in the middle while the last of the many zombies were dealt with.\n\nInstead of the boarded-up library, which they feared contained more zombies and didn't have the energy to face down after the fight, the group found an estate at the end of the main road, a big house with a big yard. One of the less savory survivors had picked the lock and the group had been surprised to find that the place hadn't been looted and neither contained any zombies, a strange moment of normality as they entered the dusty and cold house, their breaths misting as they picked through it, complained when they found only a cupboard with a few cans of ravioli and some raw rice and canned tuna, but at least the place had two fireplaces, one in the main living room and one to the back, wood stored in a shed at the back. \n\"Why did you leave your station?\" Walther had gotten close and squatted down where Earl was resting close to the fireplace in the back, a gaggle of cubs around him listening as he read aloud from one of the few books in their possession.\n\"Had to save the boy.\" He met the wolf's eyes squarely, feeling his hackles raise up while he hugged Sepf a bit closer to his big body, the cub shivering despite the warmth. Walther's eyes flickered between the two and he got up again and clapped him on the shoulder. Perhaps a bit harder than a friendly clap, but Earl would take what he got and he soon resumed the reading, far too few calories being burned in his stomach as he warmed up from the crackling flames. \n\nThe house was big, and the two chimneys went up in a way that they heated individual rooms both on the ground floor and the first floor, speaking to an old construction date or so JimBob had told him. Earl had offered to keep Sepf company in one of the smallest rooms, barely the size of a closet, and the occasionally sniffling cub had agreed, now sleeping silently in front of the canine. \nEarl growled then and got up, turned on his flashlight and wasted valuable battery as he shone the beam towards his stomach, checking out just above the indentation of his belt. Just a little scratch. There was barely any blood, looked like something he could have done in his sleep by accident, but he saw the dark touches at the edges and he felt the heat growing strong in his body. The onset of the fever that would have him turn.\nHe looked down at the sleeping cub, the one he had saved, the one that had damned him and he almost growled. For [i]four[/i] months he had helped keep all the cubs safe, fighting against the base urges that he could have exploited at any time, Sepf wasn't the only orphan. He had cared for them, protected them, done his duty. \nHe felt warmer now, the feverish heat getting to him as he felt more and more flushed. The heat from the chimney helped, although the house had been dead cold and there was still condensation on the window looking out to the starry night. No, it was that fever which would burn through his body faster than anyone would have dreamt of before the fall.\nJust a little scratch. \nAnd now his life was over. \n\nThe world grew blurry as he saw it through tears of frustration, but the cub was still clear to him, that little bundle of blue fur, that jet-black headfur. Earl stepped around then squatted down, lifting the sleeping bag away, lifting up the cub's grimy t-shirt. Such plush, white stomach fur! The cub shivered and the Saint Bernard drew in a shuddery breath, making his fatal decision, and he undressed completely before getting down again, enveloping the little cub with his big arm, squeezing his surging crotch against the underwear-covered backside of the folf, feeling his member grow and nestle between the soft rump-cheeks. \n\"I'll shoot myself afterwards..\" Earl muttered to himself, reaching for his trousers, checking the holster, then grabbing at the hem of the young cub's underwear and pulling it down. \n\n\nSepf woke up feeling all groggy. He was warm and being held. \n\"Mommy?\" A grunt sounded out and he felt a heavy pressure on his body a strong and thick paw grabbing his chest, the smell of unwashed man wafting out from the sleeping bag. He whimpered then as he realized that it was Earl who held him close and his eyes fluttered as he got a flashback to his mother's brutal demise, ears fluttering as he remembered the biting and tearing and screaming. \n\"No no no, shush, shush, shush...\" He had begun to cry but then stiffened up as he felt something warm and wet rubbing at his backside. Had he soiled himself? No it belonged to Earl, it came out of his... Sepf began to struggle, but the much, much bigger fur kept him close, the warmth from his big belly almost like a furnace, the length rubbing at the cleft of his rump feeling like it was urinating there, so warm was it. \n\"Wha-?\" \n\"Shhhhhhhh. Just let it happen. Let me enjoy myself for once.\" It came out close to the growling tone of Walther and not at all the always friendly and cheerful teacher-like voice that Earl normally used. Sepf winced as something poked at his tailhole and he tried to move away, but the size difference was too stark for him to move and when he began to complain loudly, a big and immensely warm paw wrapped around his muzzle, forcing it shut as the fat canine pushed his hips forward. \"I'll stick it all inside quick so it won't hurt so much~\" \nSepf whined through his nose as he felt the tapered tip of the man's prick breach him and he struggled all that he could, clenching up, trying to prevent the invasion, but the big canine just grunted and buckled harder, suddenly slipping inside, his warm girth feeling like it was ripping the folf open. \n\"Mrlrlrllllll!\" He tried to speak the man's name, but it was no use, the big male ramming his hips deeper, a wider bulge suddenly poking at his pucker. \n\"MPPPPHHHHHH! MPPPPHHHHHH!\" Sepf's voice turned to a croak as those feverish warm fingers wrapped around his throat instead, choking his voice as the Saint Bernard growled with determination, a sudden pop announcing the knot slipping in. \n\"Shhhhh. It's not even fully hard yet. This was the worst of it, just relax against me and let it happen~\" Earl growled, letting off his throat and clamping his muzzle shut again, Sepf whining but having to admit to himself that despite the feeling of having to take a dump, the dick nestled lodged inside his body didn't hurt as much as before. \n\"Good boy, just relax~\"\n\nThe member began to pulse and surge and the pressure grew on his tailhole and his prostate. Soon, the big canine was rocking his hips back and forth, cock growing to its full size, canine meat filling up the tight backside of the eight-year-old folf. He began to whimper louder as the stretch grew unbearable, then grew further still, his bladder vacating itself with a hiss as the fat knot pushed at his organs, the length going up his colon.\nAnd it was so [i]hot[/i]. It felt like the warm water was running out of the tap hot, and he felt the big man's sweat fall on his body like droplets in the shower, Earl grunting and growling, hips moving, sleeping bag rustling as he sodomized the little cub. \n\"I've been waiting for so long for this. One last huzzah, Sepf, this is how I end, not with a whimper, but with... a...\" The growling grew incoherent, the rhythmic thrusts up his backside grew erratic and the cock surged even further, Sepf crying freely as it felt like it was splitting him open and then something wet and [i]hot[/i] began to eject into him, almost audibly splurting as tainted seed painted his insides white. He hurt so much! His crying whimpers coming through his snooty nose, the man's fever-hot paw still wrapped around his maw, the other holding his knee to splay him out as he drove his fat prick deep and deeper, growling under his breath as he unloaded into the cub. \n\n\"This was the best thing I have ever done~\" Earl slurred, fingers still painfully holding Sepf's muzzle shut, the cub now on his back against the big man's stomach, the canine nuzzling his mouth against his headfur. \"Just a little bit more and I'll end it...\" \nSepf couldn't see his stomach, but his shivering paw could feel the tip of the man's cock still throbbing up his rectum, bulging out his abdomen slightly, each throb making his small paws rise and new whimpers come from his throat. \n\"On the other hand...\" The Saint Bernard began to pump his hips, more surges, more primal growling, more feverish heat as he took the cub a second time, tainted cum oozing out the eight-year-old's tailhole as it filled him to the brim. He was so hurt. So confused. His mom dead and his favorite adult turned rapist. He tried to block it all out, to make himself black out and time had suddenly passed, him partially on his side, partially crushed by the big man's weight. \n\nEarl was shivering with fever now and his heat warmed up the cub to the point where he felt feverish as well. The paw was still wrapped around his muzzle and he suddenly felt the fingers twitch and then [i]compress[/i] so painfully that he whined the loudest yet, claws digging into his snout. Earl let out a deep sigh and for a moment Sepf wondered what had happened and then he felt a sudden surge of too-hot liquid shoot up his bowels.\n[i]NO![/i]\nHe blushed with humilation as fever-warm piss bloated his stomach until it distended just a little bit like Earl's and then the man went rigid, then utterly still, the heat dissipating in the cooling air of the room, Sepf soon shivering as life left the big man's body and he was lying there, still knotted, the prick remaining fully erect as life left its owner. \nThe folf struggled with the man's paw, managing to get it off his face, managed to climb a little away from the heavy girth of the dead Saint Bernard. He knew what would happen, he had to get away! He cried as the knot tugged at his sphincter and he opened his mouth to yell for help, but then the man suddenly twitched to life again, a moaning groan coming from his maw and Sepf's yell turned to a scream of pain as teeth dug into his head, one of his ears tearing off and noisily munched on. He scrabbled with his paws, once again finding that knot impossible to dislodge and the big, cold arm of the monster wrapped around his throat, lifting his head up, and he saw the open mouth of the Saint Bernard as it leaned in and enveloped his snout, biting, tearing, crunching through bone, the agony worse than anything ever experienced in his life.\n\n*Whack!* Through blurry eyes he saw his rapist-turned monster collapse down on him, gore and brain matter raining down on his face. A shape came close. Walther.\n\n\"Sorry kiddo. I have to do this...\" The wolf grimaced.\n\n[b]WHACK![/b] ", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Earl grunted as he slogged his way through the snow. It was at least 10 inches worth and the cold was seeping through his worn boots and his woolen socks although his body felt comfortably warm, just as much from his winter jacket as from his girthy belly. He rubbed his stomach, much diminished compared to before, although he still weighed more than 250 pounds if he had to take a guess. It growled back at him as he petted himself and he grimaced, feeling the hunger much like the rest of the group.
"Let's hope we find supplies in there, and a place to shelter, we'll die of exposure if we don't get away from that wind." Another fur said, a lanky fox who shivered as he put one boot-clad footpaw in front of the other, his skinny frame not providing much protection from the cold.
Earl looked behind him, squinting as snow blew into his eyes, and he huffed as he watched the slow pace of the other survivors, some thirty of them in total. As always he sought out the cubs, the Saint Bernard being a former kindergarten teacher, and the dozen or so of them trudged along in the middle of the group, flanked by the women, the men making up the rear-guard, the sides and the front.
"Hey, Big E, come on, we have to keep some distance or else Walther is gonna chew us up!"
Earl frowned at that thought, the leader of their group of fairly fearsome and stern wolf with a decade in the marines under his belt, he had naturally assumed command, sometimes with direct threats of violence although he never spoke harshly to the kids, something the Saint Bernard appreciated.

They were headed down the main street of some town or other, car-wrecks were strewn about, some vehicles parked as if their owners were just inside this shop or that before driving home, snow-covered shapes that looked a little bit like beetles to the eye of the fat canine. At least if one had the imagination for it. He didn't share his thoughts with JimBob, who was a far too grounded a man for such frivolous thinking and he focused in on his main task, scouting for zombies and scouting for places that didn't look like they had been looted or burned.
Half the buildings here were actually burned, he noticed, one long streak of charred husks on his left paw, most of the ones on his right with windows shattered or boarded up.
He shivered as he recalled the last time Walther had made him enter such a building, "clearing" it he called it, "no guns" he would say. Just the canine and his trusty improvised club or the icepick he kept in a holster on his chest for close encounters.
A whistle came from behind, and the canine and vulpine stopped in their tracks, JimBob jumping in place and slapping his arms against his body, Earl comfortable just standing still for a while, going so far as to sit down on the hood of a foreign-built sedan, springs creaking so noisily that the fox shushed him as he put his weight on it.

The main group came up and he sought out the cubs again, taking note of one of the cuter ones, a blue-furred wolf-fox hybrid named Sepf. His mom was close, a fire-ax in her gloved paw, and she shot the dog a wan smile that was still tainted with the sadness of losing her husband just a couple of weeks back, the red-maned wolf fairly attractive despite the bags under her eyes and the onset of white fur that was growing out of her scalp from the trauma of it all.
The one who has whistled was Walther, a stockily built wolf with a scowl on his face and heavy bandages over his right eye which had been near clawed out by a zombie a week ago. Blood and bites would turn you, but the turned would get you a nasty infection if they managed to scratch, and the former marine was ornery as the snow-peppered bandage showed yellow puss coming from underneath.
"Seen anything interesting?" Earl and JimBob shook their heads, the Saint Bernard getting up, the car creaking loudly as it wobbled, some snow whooshing at it fell off in large clumps. Walther shot him a dirty look, then squinted at the buildings. They were close to the middle of the town now, the public library still standing proud and the former teacher wondered if they could scavenge for some children's books or comics for the little ones.
"Better use it as fuel for a fire, this cold is getting to me!" The lanky fox complained and the wolf didn't seem like he cared much, although his expression lighted up as he considered the availability of easy fuel, much to the chagrin of Earl.

Another whistle rang out, from the side, and the whole group stared that way, where an alley led to a connecting street that veered off north-east, up to a wooded area. Running footsteps came down it and two of their scouts appeared, panting, eyes wide with fright.
"Zombies! Dozens of them coming up right behind us. We were checking out the school from the outside and they suddenly barged through the windows, almost as if they had been sheltering from the cold!"
"Alright! No panic everyone. Cubs to the rear, you, you and you stay close to them, we will need every paw for this!" Earl stepped up alongside the others, flanking the entrance to the alley in a semi-circle, the moans of the herd of zombies being audible now. Those terrifying, deep moans seemed to reverberate out to the street and echo down between the buildings and the Saint Bernard's blood froze cold as he heard answering groans coming from buildings to the left and right, barred shop-doors suddenly clattering open as shambling shapes made their way out.
The zombies weren't fast, moving slower than regular walking, but they always seemed to come in numbers and more doors clattered open, windows suddenly breaking, as the monsters entered the street on either side of the alley. Earl checked behind him, and he wondered idly if zombies could have been taking shelter in those burnt out buildings, but he didn't have time to look out as he and JimBob had to contend with the undying that came their way.
"Nice and easy. Keep your wits about you, strike for the head, don't shoot unless you have to!" Again Walther's growling, authoritative voice that ended in a grunt as he embedded his ka-bar into the skull of what had once been an eldery bear lady, her crusty, bloodspattered nightgown fluttering as she went down. Earl had his own zombies to deal with, a little bovine cub who had been no older than 5, the print of action heroes on his t-shirt totally undamaged although his left arm ended in a stub and his face had been chewed halfway off, his lower jaw dangling like a wind-chime in the bitter gusts of snow. Earl grimaced as his improvised club met the cub's skull, smashing it in, the big Saint Bernard turning to the next zombie that was lounging at him, his boot slipping, the man yelping as his follow-up turned into a slide towards the slavering jaws of a turned pig who must have been a butcher, bloodstained apron covering a torn-open stomach, slightly steaming innards dragged along through the snow.
JimBob came to his rescue, surefooted as his machete dug into the skull of the porcine zombie, Earl barely moving away as it went down in its death rattle.
"Fuck!" He caved in another skull, feeling the dread of fighting the moaning horde. Then another. Two faced him, JimBob distracted one, got his machete tangled in the extended arms of the undead and had to step back while Earl finished the other one, brainmatter spattering about to taint the pristine snow.
Shouts, grunts and zombie moans filled the air as the survivors whittled down the number of zombies, but more came to, and even if they fought as methodically as possible, the group was tired, frozen and starved and movements grew more sluggish, each zombie taken down just that closer to harming someone.

For a moment the area around the fox and the dog was clear and Earl looked to the others, half a dozen slowly giving ground at the alley, a small mountain of the dead left in the fighting retreat, the other side of the street more clear with only stragglers appearing.
"Help!" Suddenly the children were screaming, a cacophony that reverberated through the air, Earl already in motion as he saw a partially collapsed alleyway now brimming with the living dead, the women shouting, directing the cubs to the middle of the street as they faced the new threat. Sepf's mother brandished her fire-ax with a growl and hammered it through the skull of a zombie. It got stuck and as she growled and twisted at the weapon, three more came up, the woman yelping, slipping, falling backwards, the three shapes shambling as they bore down on her.
"Mom!" Sepf darted close, the little cub kicking the leg of one of the monsters, causing it to stumble, but it was not enough and the woman screamed in pain as the first bite went through her lower leg, another zombie, this one a fat brown bear of the same size as Earl had been before the fall, practically enveloped her with its girth, slavering maw biting at her neck.
"MOMMY!"

"Fuck!" Earl was running as fast as he could, the zombie facing Sepf bearing down on the eight-year-old, and he managed to get there just in time, hammering into its chest with his shoulder, the much-lighter undead flying away with a groan that sounded almost surprised.
"Get back to the others Sepf!" His yell didn't get through the cub's ears as he screamed and tried to get to his mother who was screaming in her death throes as she was eaten alive. "COME HERE!" He bellowed, picking up the folf, the boy screaming and wiggling like a freshly caught fish as the Saint Bernard dragged him towards the center, instructing one of the young teens to keep him in place. Earl rolled his shoulders and headed back, clobbering first one, then the other feasting zombie, shattering skulls and brains, more zombies coming on, the big man holding them back alongside the surviving women. His stomach felt itchy for some reason, but he had bigger things to be concerned about, facing down the creature that had attacked the boy, a lanky rodent whose arm ended in a bloody stump, jagged arm-bone glistening wetly. Earl struck it down and stepped back, the whole group eventually ending up in a circle with the kids in the middle while the last of the many zombies were dealt with.

Instead of the boarded-up library, which they feared contained more zombies and didn't have the energy to face down after the fight, the group found an estate at the end of the main road, a big house with a big yard. One of the less savory survivors had picked the lock and the group had been surprised to find that the place hadn't been looted and neither contained any zombies, a strange moment of normality as they entered the dusty and cold house, their breaths misting as they picked through it, complained when they found only a cupboard with a few cans of ravioli and some raw rice and canned tuna, but at least the place had two fireplaces, one in the main living room and one to the back, wood stored in a shed at the back.
"Why did you leave your station?" Walther had gotten close and squatted down where Earl was resting close to the fireplace in the back, a gaggle of cubs around him listening as he read aloud from one of the few books in their possession.
"Had to save the boy." He met the wolf's eyes squarely, feeling his hackles raise up while he hugged Sepf a bit closer to his big body, the cub shivering despite the warmth. Walther's eyes flickered between the two and he got up again and clapped him on the shoulder. Perhaps a bit harder than a friendly clap, but Earl would take what he got and he soon resumed the reading, far too few calories being burned in his stomach as he warmed up from the crackling flames.

The house was big, and the two chimneys went up in a way that they heated individual rooms both on the ground floor and the first floor, speaking to an old construction date or so JimBob had told him. Earl had offered to keep Sepf company in one of the smallest rooms, barely the size of a closet, and the occasionally sniffling cub had agreed, now sleeping silently in front of the canine.
Earl growled then and got up, turned on his flashlight and wasted valuable battery as he shone the beam towards his stomach, checking out just above the indentation of his belt. Just a little scratch. There was barely any blood, looked like something he could have done in his sleep by accident, but he saw the dark touches at the edges and he felt the heat growing strong in his body. The onset of the fever that would have him turn.
He looked down at the sleeping cub, the one he had saved, the one that had damned him and he almost growled. For four months he had helped keep all the cubs safe, fighting against the base urges that he could have exploited at any time, Sepf wasn't the only orphan. He had cared for them, protected them, done his duty.
He felt warmer now, the feverish heat getting to him as he felt more and more flushed. The heat from the chimney helped, although the house had been dead cold and there was still condensation on the window looking out to the starry night. No, it was that fever which would burn through his body faster than anyone would have dreamt of before the fall.
Just a little scratch.
And now his life was over.

The world grew blurry as he saw it through tears of frustration, but the cub was still clear to him, that little bundle of blue fur, that jet-black headfur. Earl stepped around then squatted down, lifting the sleeping bag away, lifting up the cub's grimy t-shirt. Such plush, white stomach fur! The cub shivered and the Saint Bernard drew in a shuddery breath, making his fatal decision, and he undressed completely before getting down again, enveloping the little cub with his big arm, squeezing his surging crotch against the underwear-covered backside of the folf, feeling his member grow and nestle between the soft rump-cheeks.    
"I'll shoot myself afterwards.." Earl muttered to himself, reaching for his trousers, checking the holster, then grabbing at the hem of the young cub's underwear and pulling it down.


Sepf woke up feeling all groggy. He was warm and being held.
"Mommy?" A grunt sounded out and he felt a heavy pressure on his body a strong and thick paw grabbing his chest, the smell of unwashed man wafting out from the sleeping bag. He whimpered then as he realized that it was Earl who held him close and his eyes fluttered as he got a flashback to his mother's brutal demise, ears fluttering as he remembered the biting and tearing and screaming.
"No no no, shush, shush, shush..." He had begun to cry but then stiffened up as he felt something warm and wet rubbing at his backside. Had he soiled himself? No it belonged to Earl, it came out of his... Sepf began to struggle, but the much, much bigger fur kept him close, the warmth from his big belly almost like a furnace, the length rubbing at the cleft of his rump feeling like it was urinating there, so warm was it.
"Wha-?"
"Shhhhhhhh. Just let it happen. Let me enjoy myself for once." It came out close to the growling tone of Walther and not at all the always friendly and cheerful teacher-like voice that Earl normally used. Sepf winced as something poked at his tailhole and he tried to move away, but the size difference was too stark for him to move and when he began to complain loudly, a big and immensely warm paw wrapped around his muzzle, forcing it shut as the fat canine pushed his hips forward. "I'll stick it all inside quick so it won't hurt so much~"
Sepf whined through his nose as he felt the tapered tip of the man's prick breach him and he struggled all that he could, clenching up, trying to prevent the invasion, but the big canine just grunted and buckled harder, suddenly slipping inside, his warm girth feeling like it was ripping the folf open.
"Mrlrlrllllll!" He tried to speak the man's name, but it was no use, the big male ramming his hips deeper, a wider bulge suddenly poking at his pucker.
"MPPPPHHHHHH! MPPPPHHHHHH!" Sepf's voice turned to a croak as those feverish warm fingers wrapped around his throat instead, choking his voice as the Saint Bernard growled with determination, a sudden pop announcing the knot slipping in.
"Shhhhh. It's not even fully hard yet. This was the worst of it, just relax against me and let it happen~" Earl growled, letting off his throat and clamping his muzzle shut again, Sepf whining but having to admit to himself that despite the feeling of having to take a dump, the dick nestled lodged inside his body didn't hurt as much as before.
"Good boy, just relax~"

The member began to pulse and surge and the pressure grew on his tailhole and his prostate. Soon, the big canine was rocking his hips back and forth, cock growing to its full size, canine meat filling up the tight backside of the eight-year-old folf. He began to whimper louder as the stretch grew unbearable, then grew further still, his bladder vacating itself with a hiss as the fat knot pushed at his organs, the length going up his colon.
And it was so hot. It felt like the warm water was running out of the tap hot, and he felt the big man's sweat fall on his body like droplets in the shower, Earl grunting and growling, hips moving, sleeping bag rustling as he sodomized the little cub.
"I've been waiting for so long for this. One last huzzah, Sepf, this is how I end, not with a whimper, but with... a..." The growling grew incoherent, the rhythmic thrusts up his backside grew erratic and the cock surged even further, Sepf crying freely as it felt like it was splitting him open and then something wet and hot began to eject into him, almost audibly splurting as tainted seed painted his insides white. He hurt so much! His crying whimpers coming through his snooty nose, the man's fever-hot paw still wrapped around his maw, the other holding his knee to splay him out as he drove his fat prick deep and deeper, growling under his breath as he unloaded into the cub.

"This was the best thing I have ever done~" Earl slurred, fingers still painfully holding Sepf's muzzle shut, the cub now on his back against the big man's stomach, the canine nuzzling his mouth against his headfur. "Just a little bit more and I'll end it..."
Sepf couldn't see his stomach, but his shivering paw could feel the tip of the man's cock still throbbing up his rectum, bulging out his abdomen slightly, each throb making his small paws rise and new whimpers come from his throat.
"On the other hand..." The Saint Bernard began to pump his hips, more surges, more primal growling, more feverish heat as he took the cub a second time, tainted cum oozing out the eight-year-old's tailhole as it filled him to the brim. He was so hurt. So confused. His mom dead and his favorite adult turned rapist. He tried to block it all out, to make himself black out and time had suddenly passed, him partially on his side, partially crushed by the big man's weight.

Earl was shivering with fever now and his heat warmed up the cub to the point where he felt feverish as well. The paw was still wrapped around his muzzle and he suddenly felt the fingers twitch and then compress so painfully that he whined the loudest yet, claws digging into his snout. Earl let out a deep sigh and for a moment Sepf wondered what had happened and then he felt a sudden surge of too-hot liquid shoot up his bowels.
NO!
He blushed with humilation as fever-warm piss bloated his stomach until it distended just a little bit like Earl's and then the man went rigid, then utterly still, the heat dissipating in the cooling air of the room, Sepf soon shivering as life left the big man's body and he was lying there, still knotted, the prick remaining fully erect as life left its owner.
The folf struggled with the man's paw, managing to get it off his face, managed to climb a little away from the heavy girth of the dead Saint Bernard. He knew what would happen, he had to get away! He cried as the knot tugged at his sphincter and he opened his mouth to yell for help, but then the man suddenly twitched to life again, a moaning groan coming from his maw and Sepf's yell turned to a scream of pain as teeth dug into his head, one of his ears tearing off and noisily munched on. He scrabbled with his paws, once again finding that knot impossible to dislodge and the big, cold arm of the monster wrapped around his throat, lifting his head up, and he saw the open mouth of the Saint Bernard as it leaned in and enveloped his snout, biting, tearing, crunching through bone, the agony worse than anything ever experienced in his life.

*Whack!* Through blurry eyes he saw his rapist-turned monster collapse down on him, gore and brain matter raining down on his face. A shape came close. Walther.

"Sorry kiddo. I have to do this..." The wolf grimaced.

WHACK!  ", "pools_count": 2, "title": "Tied & Turned - Suggestion from Subscribestar", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "image/png", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" }, { "content_tag_id": "5", "name": "Strong Violence", "description": "Strong violence, blood, serious injury or death", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "8", "views": "651" }