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"John Simmons' time with the beagle cub Casey is put to good use, ensnaring him to greater depravities.
Meanwhile, Jack Henrikson begins a summer gig!

This is a story of fiction and fantasy, it does not and should not represent anything in the real world!


I made a journal about The Tenements, it has SPOILERS!
But I am also curious about which characters make the audience tick, and what you guys would like to see more of!^^
https://inkbunny.net/j/523843-bullubullu-the-tenements", "writing": "\"D-Do I have to?\" The Beagle cub said, his voice trembling most cutely.\nJohn Simmons just smirked and nodded, angling his half-hard member down, his newfound morning ritual about to begin. \n\nCasey had been living with him for the better part of four days and was now well broken in to. His tailstar was red and puffy and the previous smell of rotting trash had been fully washed out of his fur and clothes, the eight-year-old Beagle cub now smelling like manmusk and piss almost as soon as he was out of the shower. \nGreen eyes looked up plaintively and the cub kneeled, one of his own t-shirts draped over his body.\n\"Don't spill any, or I'll have to wash that again..\" John murmured, the skunk relaxing his body, his morning bladder aching for release. \nWith a gulp, the cub leaned forward, maw enveloping the tip of the pudgy man's cock, lips locking on the glans like he had been taught.\n\"Good boy Casey. You are doing so well to keep the water bill down.\" John then grunted and felt a twinge, then leaned his head back with a satisfied sigh. He pinched his cock, keeping the stream agonizingly slow, allowing the young canine to fully appreciate the taste of his morning brew, salty and sour urine trickling out in a volume even a toddler could keep up with. Casey still sputtered though, hating the taste, the skunk knowing that and loving the action even more, releasing his grip a little, the urine flowing just that faster. \n\n*Gulp Gulp Gulp*\n\nThe swallows were painful for the cub, intersected with retching gags as the salty piss frothed on his tongue, washing over the roof of his mouth, slowly filling his stomach with the skunk's hot load. Casey could feel it begin to slosh around in his stomach, churning and making it cramp, his face scrunched up from the bitterness and the depravity of his submission.\nStill, he wanted to keep the skunk happy after being chased out of his apartment by his crazed dad, and he dutifully swallowed down the frothy morning piss. \n\"You are such a good boy, Casey..\" Mister Simmons muttered, stroking his ears, and Casey remembered to look up, locking his eyes with the skunk's black orbs, keeping eye contact while more and more urine entered his maw. \n\n*Gulp Gulp Gulp*\n\nJohn was still feeling the pinch, as if he still had half a bladder to unload, but he kept his urges in check, even though he wanted to cram his cock down the little Beagle's throat and piss directly into his stomach at full force.\nSlow and steady. \nInstead he enjoyed the conflicting expressions on the cub's face as he swallowed down the acrid fluid, partially happy to be praised and having his ears stroked, and very much [i]not[/i] enjoying the taste or the sheer volume, which had him gasping for air through his nose as he choked it down. \nWhen he finally finished, his cock was rock hard and he began to gyrate his hips, changing his grip to be more forceful, mindful of not going to far back now the cub had such a full stomach. \n\n\"You are such a good boy for me, Casey..\"\n\n\n-------------------------------\n\n\nJack Henrikson was struggling with his mother's bike and the two carry-on bags that hung down at the rear wheel. The balance was off and the somewhat high saddle made the ride feel precarious. Still, the 13year old lion managed to get to the tenement block from the supermarket without any issue, checking the list he had gotten, opting to take the bicycle into the elevator to avoid the risk of theft like his new boss had told him to do. \n\nWhen he got out, a nasty smell hit his nose. Like trash and something dead, like a rotting dumpster, nasty enough to coat his mouth with what felt like an oily sheen.\nHe swallowed sour spit and walked down the hallway, the stench getting more intense. Hesitantly, he pressed the doorbell and waited for the costumer to come out.\nWith his ears perked and a paw over his nose, Jack could hear the sound of someone slowly getting closer, mutters and curses being heard, something falling to the ground with a thud, then a whoosh as if a stack of papers were fluttering around.\nFinally, the door opened partially and a very unkempt Beagle was looking out, green eyes narrow in suspicion. \nThe stench hit Jack so hard he gagged, behind the outline of the man was a veritable mountain of trash, black plastic bags, knickknacks, broken toys, not one but [i]two[/i] disassembled bicycles, and that was just what he could see through the partially open door. \n\n\"Mr. Fernandez?\" Jack asked, trying to breathe through his mouth, filling his lungs with the fetid air. The man just glowered crazily and all the lionboy wanted was to turn tail and run. \n\"I have the deliveries for you..\" He almost said it as a question, wondering if this was the right place.\n\"Give me.\" The man said simply, and he turned to the bicycle, opening the bags and pulling out cartons of milk, bags of flour, packets of meat and other foodstuffs. The man took a few items at a time, shutting the door, then sounding as if he was climbing over stuff to pack it away before returning, the whole delivery taking almost twenty minutes in total, leaving the lion frustrated and nauseated by the gag-inducing smell of rot. \n\"You'll have to sign here,\" he gave him a clipboard with a pen and the Beagle jutted down his signature. \n\"Aren't you Casey's dad?\" Jack then asked, suddenly putting two and two together. \"I haven't seen him in a couple of days. Is he alright?\" \n\"My son is dead.\" The man said flatly, returning the clipboard.\n\"What?\" \n\"He's dead. He's a machine now, controlled by the CIA.\"\n\"[i]What??[/i]\" Jack took a step back, his tone seemingly making the man agitated, those eyes growing more crazy. \n\"I saw him on the playground. He gave out candy. He's not in the CIA what are you talking about??\" \n\"HE'S A MACHINE SENT TO SPY ON ME!\" \n\nJack back-pedaled as the man came out of his door, unkempt, with lanky unwashed hair, clothes that looked 4 weeks late for the washer. He had a knife. \n\"Wait! Stop!\" \n\"Did they send you too?\" The man shouted crazily, and Jack turned to run, the man following, bellowing curses. Jack looked over his shoulder to see the man in hot pursuit and he yelled and screamed with fright, running as fast as he could. \nAhead of him a door opened and a tall and burly bull strode out, looking for the commotion. \n\"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?\" He bellowed as Jack ran past him, the Beagle stopping dead in his tracks as he saw the big man. \n\"He's an agent of the CIA!\" The Beagle shouted crazily. \n\"ENRICO! DID YOU STOP TAKING YOUR MEDS AGAIN?\" The bull shouted, taking a step forward, not at all mindful of the glinting kitchen knife in the crazy man's paw. \n\"Never mind that, Bill, they got my son and now they are turning the other kids as well!\" \n\"THEY DIDN'T GET YOUR SON!\" The bull shouted, a heavy snort coming from him as he strode forward, meaty palm smacking the knife out of the surprised Beagle's paw, another smack impacting his head making him stumble. The bull took a hold of his shirt and pressed him against the wall.\n\"WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS CASEY?\" \n\"He's dead. I told you! He's a robot now!\" \n\"WE NEED TO GET YOUR MEDS INTO YOU. HAVE YOU THROWN THEM OUT?\" \nA weak whimper escaped the man as the bull crushed him against the bricks. \"No...\" \n\nAlmost like steering a child, the big man grabbed the Beagle's neck and walked him down the hallway. Jack followed cautiously, heart hammering with adrenaline, but wanting to get his bike back. \nThe door was half open now, as far as it could go, and the bull was struggling to climb over the trash, herding the Beagle further inside. \n\nJack grabbed his bike and the clipboard and scampered away. \n\n\n--------------------------\n\n\nJohn grunted as he unloaded the contents of his bowels while his piss ran down Casey's throat. \n\nThe beagle had been with him for almost ten days now and he kept on increasing the perversity, the cub's tongue now well-used to cleaning his backside, soiled or not. \n\nA heavy fart rang out and Casey gagged, the beagle accustomed to his mid-day urine by now. \nThe stench of gas not so much. \nThe skunk felt his cock harden as his bladder grew empty and he gently steered the cub into a blowjob while his shit plopped out, toilet water occasionally splashing up to hit his backside. \n\"Good boy Casey. Now as I told you, toilet paper is [i]very[/i] expensive, and having you here is costing me a lot of money, so you will have to help me out with your tongue, okay?\" He grinned inwardly, but kept up his reasonable expression and kind and fatherly tone, meeting the eight-year-old Beagle's green eyes with barely concealed mirth and arousal. \n\"O-okay..\" \n\"It's easier if you get on your footpaws. I'll lean on the toilet to help you out, right?\" \n\nCasey felt nauseous, his ears were splaying backwards and he felt a sour pit in his stomach as the pudgy skunk faced away, closed the lit and flushed and bent over, revealing his fat butt. \n\"Come on then. If it gets dry it's much harder to get out, you know that, you are such a big boy Casey, of course you know that. Now get your tongue in there, get me all clean!\" \nThe tone was [i]so[/i] praising it made his little tail wag and Casey gulped as he stepped in, putting his small paws on the black fur, the bushy tail lifted away to give him access. The smell of fresh shit assaulted his nostrils and he pulled back with tears in his eyes, sobbing, taking another step backwards, pressing himself up against the wall as far away as possible. Mr. Simmons turned his head and stared at him, a frown on his face, as if he was disappointed. He shook his head in a 'come here' motion and Casey took a step forward, gulping.\nAnother 'come here' and a weird smile, that bushy tail slowly undulating back and forth.\nThe Beagle took another step, swallowed his sour spit and put his paws on the pudgy man's butt again. \n\n\"Fuck yes Casey.... You're my [i]best[/i] friend ever!\" John moaned out as he felt the cub's hot breath and then his tongue mash into his ass-crack. A loud gag was heard, then a pained swallow, followed by more licks. \nThe skunk's cock hardened fully, jetting out precum which impacted the stained porcelain and he huffed and groaned as that small tongue worked the shit directly out of his asshole.\n\"Good boy... I love you so much Casey...\"\nThe licking got a bit more fervent.\n\"So smart and helpful...\" \nLoud retches stopped the licking for half a minute, John just kept up his praise and soon enough the tongue was back in action.\n\nIt was simply [i]awful[/i] for the eight-year-old Beagle, the consistency of the man's poop was soft and slimy, sticking to his tongue, small harder nuggets getting stuck in his teeth, bits of flavour bursting on his taste receptors as this or that undigested foodstuff made itself known. \nHis stomach was beginning to hurt. It was so clenched up and now it began to feel as if something was boiling down there as he cleaned off more and more of the skunk's filthy waste.\nDespite it all, his tail wagged slowly. The praise, the warmth of Mr. Simmons' tone, the way he groaned and pushed back against his tongue. \nCasey was making his best friend happy, and that was all that mattered.\nRight?\n\n\n--------------------------\n\n\nTwo hours later the Beagle was half-limping towards the playground with a bag of candy in his paw. \n\nHe burped and tasted the skunk's shit on his breath, even though he had been made to brush his teeth. It wafted up from his broiling stomach and he didn't feel hungry about the candy [i]at all[/i], more like he just wanted to sleep until it all went away. \nHowever, Mr. Simmons had insisted he go out so he could clean the apartment as his own summer break was soon to be over and he \"would not have the energy\" to get something done by then and still take care of the Beagle. \nIdly, the boycub wondered about his school supplies and other practical things, but brushed it to the side as he saw the gaggle of cubs playing in the afternoon sun. \n\"Hi everyone, I've got candy!\" He shouted and felt accepted for a brief while as they devoured his offerings, bright smiles and happy faces all around. \n\"Casey!\" It was Jack Henrikson, the lionboy coming near. \"Are you alright?\"\nHe stifled another nasty burp, hoping it wouldn't smell, felt a twinge in his sore backside which felt as if it might leak the skunk's load at any time.\n\"Ye-Yeah I'm good..\" He managed to say, briefly meeting Jack's concerned eyes before casting his gaze down.\n\"That's.. Good.. I uhmmm.... I met your dad. He wasn't very well..\" \nCasey looked up at him and noted how the big boy's fur was standing on end, Jack now looking down at the grass. \n\"I don't wanna talk about him!\" Casey blurted out. \"Why don't we play tag or hide and seek?\" \n\n\nAn hour later, the cubs' playing was interrupted by the surprise arrival of Casey's dad. \n\"Casey? Casey! Come here my son!\" He shouted happily, running into the sanded area of the playground, scooping up the surprised Beagle who was crushed into a tight hug.\n\"D-Dad?\" \n\"Casey I'm so sorry for what I did. I felt out of sorts. I'm better now! Mr. Pitcher from down the hall has helped me get started on cleaning out the apartment and everything. Even got the local church group to help out!\" \nHe hugged his son even tighter, noting a rotting smell about him, disregarding that as vestiges of their messy apartment. \n\"Let's get you home, my son!\" \n\"Mr- Mr. Fernandez?\" Jack hesitantly stepped close, hunched over as if he might run at any moment. \n\"You are one of the Henriksons aren't you?\" The Beagle said with a smile, then he frowned and his tone turned apologetic. \"I'm sorry for scaring you. I wasn't myself.. Both of you, I'm really sorry.\"\nHe hugged Casey even tighter, the cub hugging back with all his strength, Jack looking a bit less concerned.\n\nCasey held his dad's paw in the [i]firmest[/i] grip, constantly looking up as if re-checking reality. \nHe seemed normal again! Like he could trust him! \nIt made a bubbling happiness rise in his stomach that completely overrode the nauseating sensation he had dealt with after cleaning out the skunk. \nThe thought of Mr. Simmons made him feel conflicted now and he stumbled, his dad waiting with a fatherly smile as he righted himself. \n\"TADA!\" The older beagle shouted as he opened the door, which could now fully open, revealing a somewhat cleaned up apartment. \n\"There are too many things I want to keep, but the church group and mister Pitcher helped out a [i]lot[/i], getting all the trash out.. I'm also taking my medication now, Casey.\" The last was said sheepishly. \nThe young Beagle took in the sight and beamed, and looked to his father. \n\"I'm happy you do that, dad. You always get strange when you stop..\" \n\"Don't worry about that. I'm all better now.\" And he hugged him. Like a dad. Hoisting him up and pressing him against his chest, smelling clean and of deodorant. \n\n\n-----------------------------\n\n\nJohn was humming to himself as he cleaned his apartment. He had seen the cub reunite with his dad. It made him a little sad to see him clutch the man's paw as they went into their own block, but he had always known it would be temporary. \nTen days with a fucksleeve had been quite the unexpected summer vacation anyways.\nHe smiled to himself and groped his length through his sweatpants, the cock practically bruised and chafed from its extensive use. \n\nThe skunk sat down on his couch with a beer in one paw, a lit cigarette in the other, and turned on the TV, mind constantly going over the raunchy memories of the Beagle's mouth and ass servicing him day in and day out. He grinned. \nJohn hadn't had that much fun since Wallis! \n\n \n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": ""D-Do I have to?" The Beagle cub said, his voice trembling most cutely.
John Simmons just smirked and nodded, angling his half-hard member down, his newfound morning ritual about to begin.

Casey had been living with him for the better part of four days and was now well broken in to. His tailstar was red and puffy and the previous smell of rotting trash had been fully washed out of his fur and clothes, the eight-year-old Beagle cub now smelling like manmusk and piss almost as soon as he was out of the shower.
Green eyes looked up plaintively and the cub kneeled, one of his own t-shirts draped over his body.
"Don't spill any, or I'll have to wash that again.." John murmured, the skunk relaxing his body, his morning bladder aching for release.
With a gulp, the cub leaned forward, maw enveloping the tip of the pudgy man's cock, lips locking on the glans like he had been taught.
"Good boy Casey. You are doing so well to keep the water bill down." John then grunted and felt a twinge, then leaned his head back with a satisfied sigh. He pinched his cock, keeping the stream agonizingly slow, allowing the young canine to fully appreciate the taste of his morning brew, salty and sour urine trickling out in a volume even a toddler could keep up with. Casey still sputtered though, hating the taste, the skunk knowing that and loving the action even more, releasing his grip a little, the urine flowing just that faster.

*Gulp Gulp Gulp*

The swallows were painful for the cub, intersected with retching gags as the salty piss frothed on his tongue, washing over the roof of his mouth, slowly filling his stomach with the skunk's hot load. Casey could feel it begin to slosh around in his stomach, churning and making it cramp, his face scrunched up from the bitterness and the depravity of his submission.
Still, he wanted to keep the skunk happy after being chased out of his apartment by his crazed dad, and he dutifully swallowed down the frothy morning piss.
"You are such a good boy, Casey.." Mister Simmons muttered, stroking his ears, and Casey remembered to look up, locking his eyes with the skunk's black orbs, keeping eye contact while more and more urine entered his maw.

*Gulp Gulp Gulp*

John was still feeling the pinch, as if he still had half a bladder to unload, but he kept his urges in check, even though he wanted to cram his cock down the little Beagle's throat and piss directly into his stomach at full force.
Slow and steady.
Instead he enjoyed the conflicting expressions on the cub's face as he swallowed down the acrid fluid, partially happy to be praised and having his ears stroked, and very much not enjoying the taste or the sheer volume, which had him gasping for air through his nose as he choked it down.
When he finally finished, his cock was rock hard and he began to gyrate his hips, changing his grip to be more forceful, mindful of not going to far back now the cub had such a full stomach.

"You are such a good boy for me, Casey.."


-------------------------------


Jack Henrikson was struggling with his mother's bike and the two carry-on bags that hung down at the rear wheel. The balance was off and the somewhat high saddle made the ride feel precarious. Still, the 13year old lion managed to get to the tenement block from the supermarket without any issue, checking the list he had gotten, opting to take the bicycle into the elevator to avoid the risk of theft like his new boss had told him to do.

When he got out, a nasty smell hit his nose. Like trash and something dead, like a rotting dumpster, nasty enough to coat his mouth with what felt like an oily sheen.
He swallowed sour spit and walked down the hallway, the stench getting more intense. Hesitantly, he pressed the doorbell and waited for the costumer to come out.
With his ears perked and a paw over his nose, Jack could hear the sound of someone slowly getting closer, mutters and curses being heard, something falling to the ground with a thud, then a whoosh as if a stack of papers were fluttering around.
Finally, the door opened partially and a very unkempt Beagle was looking out, green eyes narrow in suspicion.
The stench hit Jack so hard he gagged, behind the outline of the man was a veritable mountain of trash, black plastic bags, knickknacks, broken toys, not one but two disassembled bicycles, and that was just what he could see through the partially open door.

"Mr. Fernandez?" Jack asked, trying to breathe through his mouth, filling his lungs with the fetid air. The man just glowered crazily and all the lionboy wanted was to turn tail and run.
"I have the deliveries for you.." He almost said it as a question, wondering if this was the right place.
"Give me." The man said simply, and he turned to the bicycle, opening the bags and pulling out cartons of milk, bags of flour, packets of meat and other foodstuffs. The man took a few items at a time, shutting the door, then sounding as if he was climbing over stuff to pack it away before returning, the whole delivery taking almost twenty minutes in total, leaving the lion frustrated and nauseated by the gag-inducing smell of rot.
"You'll have to sign here," he gave him a clipboard with a pen and the Beagle jutted down his signature.
"Aren't you Casey's dad?" Jack then asked, suddenly putting two and two together. "I haven't seen him in a couple of days. Is he alright?"
"My son is dead." The man said flatly, returning the clipboard.
"What?"
"He's dead. He's a machine now, controlled by the CIA."
"What??" Jack took a step back, his tone seemingly making the man agitated, those eyes growing more crazy.
"I saw him on the playground. He gave out candy. He's not in the CIA what are you talking about??"
"HE'S A MACHINE SENT TO SPY ON ME!"

Jack back-pedaled as the man came out of his door, unkempt, with lanky unwashed hair, clothes that looked 4 weeks late for the washer. He had a knife.
"Wait! Stop!"
"Did they send you too?" The man shouted crazily, and Jack turned to run, the man following, bellowing curses. Jack looked over his shoulder to see the man in hot pursuit and he yelled and screamed with fright, running as fast as he could.
Ahead of him a door opened and a tall and burly bull strode out, looking for the commotion.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?" He bellowed as Jack ran past him, the Beagle stopping dead in his tracks as he saw the big man.
"He's an agent of the CIA!" The Beagle shouted crazily.
"ENRICO! DID YOU STOP TAKING YOUR MEDS AGAIN?" The bull shouted, taking a step forward, not at all mindful of the glinting kitchen knife in the crazy man's paw.
"Never mind that, Bill, they got my son and now they are turning the other kids as well!"
"THEY DIDN'T GET YOUR SON!" The bull shouted, a heavy snort coming from him as he strode forward, meaty palm smacking the knife out of the surprised Beagle's paw, another smack impacting his head making him stumble. The bull took a hold of his shirt and pressed him against the wall.
"WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS CASEY?"
"He's dead. I told you! He's a robot now!"
"WE NEED TO GET YOUR MEDS INTO YOU. HAVE YOU THROWN THEM OUT?"
A weak whimper escaped the man as the bull crushed him against the bricks. "No..."

Almost like steering a child, the big man grabbed the Beagle's neck and walked him down the hallway. Jack followed cautiously, heart hammering with adrenaline, but wanting to get his bike back.
The door was half open now, as far as it could go, and the bull was struggling to climb over the trash, herding the Beagle further inside.

Jack grabbed his bike and the clipboard and scampered away.


--------------------------


John grunted as he unloaded the contents of his bowels while his piss ran down Casey's throat.

The beagle had been with him for almost ten days now and he kept on increasing the perversity, the cub's tongue now well-used to cleaning his backside, soiled or not.

A heavy fart rang out and Casey gagged, the beagle accustomed to his mid-day urine by now.
The stench of gas not so much.
The skunk felt his cock harden as his bladder grew empty and he gently steered the cub into a blowjob while his shit plopped out, toilet water occasionally splashing up to hit his backside.
"Good boy Casey. Now as I told you, toilet paper is very expensive, and having you here is costing me a lot of money, so you will have to help me out with your tongue, okay?" He grinned inwardly, but kept up his reasonable expression and kind and fatherly tone, meeting the eight-year-old Beagle's green eyes with barely concealed mirth and arousal.
"O-okay.."
"It's easier if you get on your footpaws. I'll lean on the toilet to help you out, right?"

Casey felt nauseous, his ears were splaying backwards and he felt a sour pit in his stomach as the pudgy skunk faced away, closed the lit and flushed and bent over, revealing his fat butt.
"Come on then. If it gets dry it's much harder to get out, you know that, you are such a big boy Casey, of course you know that. Now get your tongue in there, get me all clean!"
The tone was so praising it made his little tail wag and Casey gulped as he stepped in, putting his small paws on the black fur, the bushy tail lifted away to give him access. The smell of fresh shit assaulted his nostrils and he pulled back with tears in his eyes, sobbing, taking another step backwards, pressing himself up against the wall as far away as possible. Mr. Simmons turned his head and stared at him, a frown on his face, as if he was disappointed. He shook his head in a 'come here' motion and Casey took a step forward, gulping.
Another 'come here' and a weird smile, that bushy tail slowly undulating back and forth.
The Beagle took another step, swallowed his sour spit and put his paws on the pudgy man's butt again.

"Fuck yes Casey.... You're my best friend ever!" John moaned out as he felt the cub's hot breath and then his tongue mash into his ass-crack. A loud gag was heard, then a pained swallow, followed by more licks.
The skunk's cock hardened fully, jetting out precum which impacted the stained porcelain and he huffed and groaned as that small tongue worked the shit directly out of his asshole.
"Good boy... I love you so much Casey..."
The licking got a bit more fervent.
"So smart and helpful..."
Loud retches stopped the licking for half a minute, John just kept up his praise and soon enough the tongue was back in action.

It was simply awful for the eight-year-old Beagle, the consistency of the man's poop was soft and slimy, sticking to his tongue, small harder nuggets getting stuck in his teeth, bits of flavour bursting on his taste receptors as this or that undigested foodstuff made itself known.
His stomach was beginning to hurt. It was so clenched up and now it began to feel as if something was boiling down there as he cleaned off more and more of the skunk's filthy waste.
Despite it all, his tail wagged slowly. The praise, the warmth of Mr. Simmons' tone, the way he groaned and pushed back against his tongue.
Casey was making his best friend happy, and that was all that mattered.
Right?


--------------------------


Two hours later the Beagle was half-limping towards the playground with a bag of candy in his paw.

He burped and tasted the skunk's shit on his breath, even though he had been made to brush his teeth. It wafted up from his broiling stomach and he didn't feel hungry about the candy at all, more like he just wanted to sleep until it all went away.
However, Mr. Simmons had insisted he go out so he could clean the apartment as his own summer break was soon to be over and he "would not have the energy" to get something done by then and still take care of the Beagle.
Idly, the boycub wondered about his school supplies and other practical things, but brushed it to the side as he saw the gaggle of cubs playing in the afternoon sun.
"Hi everyone, I've got candy!" He shouted and felt accepted for a brief while as they devoured his offerings, bright smiles and happy faces all around.
"Casey!" It was Jack Henrikson, the lionboy coming near. "Are you alright?"
He stifled another nasty burp, hoping it wouldn't smell, felt a twinge in his sore backside which felt as if it might leak the skunk's load at any time.
"Ye-Yeah I'm good.." He managed to say, briefly meeting Jack's concerned eyes before casting his gaze down.
"That's.. Good.. I uhmmm.... I met your dad. He wasn't very well.."
Casey  looked up at him and noted how the big boy's fur was standing on end, Jack now looking down at the grass.
"I don't wanna talk about him!" Casey blurted out. "Why don't we play tag or hide and seek?"


An hour later, the cubs' playing was interrupted by the surprise arrival of Casey's dad.
"Casey? Casey! Come here my son!" He shouted happily, running into the sanded area of the playground, scooping up the surprised Beagle who was crushed into a tight hug.
"D-Dad?"
"Casey I'm so sorry for what I did. I felt out of sorts. I'm better now! Mr. Pitcher from down the hall has helped me get started on cleaning out the apartment and everything. Even got the local church group to help out!"
He hugged his son even tighter, noting a rotting smell about him, disregarding that as vestiges of their messy apartment.
"Let's get you home, my son!"
"Mr- Mr. Fernandez?" Jack hesitantly stepped close, hunched over as if he might run at any moment.
"You are one of the Henriksons aren't you?" The Beagle said with a smile, then he frowned and his tone turned apologetic. "I'm sorry for scaring you. I wasn't myself.. Both of you, I'm really sorry."
He hugged Casey even tighter, the cub hugging back with all his strength, Jack looking a bit less concerned.

Casey held his dad's paw in the firmest grip, constantly looking up as if re-checking reality.
He seemed normal again! Like he could trust him!
It made a bubbling happiness rise in his stomach that completely overrode the nauseating sensation he had dealt with after cleaning out the skunk.
The thought of Mr. Simmons made him feel conflicted now and he stumbled, his dad waiting with a fatherly smile as he righted himself.
"TADA!" The older beagle shouted as he opened the door, which could now fully open, revealing a somewhat cleaned up apartment.
"There are too many things I want to keep, but the church group and mister Pitcher helped out a lot, getting all the trash out.. I'm also taking my medication now, Casey." The last was said sheepishly.
The young Beagle took in the sight and beamed, and looked to his father.
"I'm happy you do that, dad. You always get strange when you stop.."
"Don't worry about that. I'm all better now." And he hugged him. Like a dad. Hoisting him up and pressing him against his chest, smelling clean and of deodorant.


-----------------------------


John was humming to himself as he cleaned his apartment. He had seen the cub reunite with his dad. It made him a little sad to see him clutch the man's paw as they went into their own block, but he had always known it would be temporary.
Ten days with a fucksleeve had been quite the unexpected summer vacation anyways.
He smiled to himself and groped his length through his sweatpants, the cock practically bruised and chafed from its extensive use.

The skunk sat down on his couch with a beer in one paw, a lit cigarette in the other, and turned on the TV, mind constantly going over the raunchy memories of the Beagle's mouth and ass servicing him day in and day out. He grinned.
John hadn't had that much fun since Wallis!

 
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