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Sorting it Out copyright 2013 comidacomida

The fight at school hadn't been Sam's fault but, as promised, the faculty had a zero tolerance policy; his mom had to come and pick him up Thursday right after lunch. He was sitting beside her when she was informed that administrators were going to hold a meeting to see if he should be expelled. If that hadn't been bad enough, once they got home she sat him down in the living room saying nothing except "We'll have a talk with Frank when he gets home." Not taking charge was a rarity for her, and that led the young coyote to an even greater sense of displeasure.

The thought of it drove Sam crazy; his mom had known the doberman for only a few months before they had married and suddenly, as if by magic, she expected that Frank'd move in and be the father-figure that had been a disappointing on-again-off-again fixture in the young coyote's life. Sam didn't fault his mom for wanting to find happiness, but forcing him to deal with a fifth dad, and pushing it on him without any say in the matter really didn't help. He didn't have much of a choice, however since (as it had been repeated to him again and again), it wasn't his house and they weren't his rules.

After his mother had called the doberman on his cell they both stared across at the blank wall and waited over an hour for Frank to get off of work. The experience had been frustrating for Same on a number of levels. Not only was his mother not willing to let it go, but she made it a point of dragging Frank into things... and, as far as Sam was concerned, it wasn't any of the dobie's business. What his mom thought, however, was obviously a different issue altogether and when it came to opinions, it was hers that mattered.

Frank worked as a councilor of some kind at a youth center and Sam sometimes wondered if his mom had married the doberman for a reason other than her usual ones; the coyote certainly hadn't heard the same kind of 'vigorous night time activities' as he'd been exposed to from his mom's other future-ex-husbands. Not only that but, unlike Sam's two most recent ex-step dads, the doberman was neither a drug addict nor a paycheck-to-paycheck bill-evader and, as far as the young coyote knew, Frank wasn't like step-dad number three, who had only recently been paroled. Yes... Frank was an oddity.

The fact that the doberman owned his own home was a nice change of pace, but having to sit on the sofa in Frank's house waiting for the dobie to come home and deliver judgment on something that didn't concern him hadn't brightened Sam's outlook. When Frank finally DID come home, however, the teenager's part in the discussion was very brief. The dobie had asked Sam what happened, and the coyote responded that he got in trouble at school for fighting. Ears up, Frank asked for clarification, and Sam responded simply that he socked a pomeranian in the muzzle for calling him a homo.

After that, Frank brought Sam's mom out of the room and they talked quietly in the kitchen. All Sam could hear of the conversation was "Don't worry... I'll handle it.". Sam's mom's tone spoke of obvious doubt but the dobie's words, however, managed to carry quite a bit of weight. Not only did Frank's call to the school board cancel the hearing, but they also lowered his suspension to "just until next Tuesday". In exchange for the assistance, however, all of that time off was spoken for as Frank took Sam out on a weekend excursion.

The young coyote tried his best to ignore his step father's casual conversation as the two drove higher into the mountains. Sam was a teenager, which meant that he had any number of ways he could spend a three day weekend and some trip to the cabins with his mom's newest husband wasn't one of them. Unfortunately, in this case, he didn't have a choice.

Frank was a mountain of a dog, more reminiscent of a football player than some pencil-pushing psychologist. He had several visible scars and had the rough-and-tumble presence of a dog who was used to being obeyed. This was also an irregularity for Sam's mom, who generally preferred her men on the more submissive side... not a six foot tall wall of masculinity. Nevertheless, Sam had never heard the dobie raise his voice nor take any violent action. That same calm, collected tone the coyote had come to expect from his step-dad was continuing on even as Sam thought about it.

"-- and I think it may just be an issue of you needing to get some time away from everything." the doberman noted, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his muzzle. Sam hadn't met many dogs that needed glasses 'just for driving', but Frank made a point of never leaving home without them. The glasses, Sam considered, were the only thing about his step-dad that even hinted at a desk job rather than being in a wrestling ring-- the young coyote's first impression of him.

"Uh huh." the teenager offered up his best indifferent tone, and went back to looking out the window. His ears, which had been plastered flat against his skull in suitable teenage angst, arose without his consent when the car finally stopped, and he heard the tell-tale sound of a parking break being set.

"And here we are." Frank announced with a seemingly proud air of victory. Out of the corner of Sam's eye, he saw his step dad gazing at him with a cocky smirk; apparently the coyote's realization that they were surrounded by miles and miles of forest and boredom was obvious enough that the dobie took some kind of perverse glee at his suffering. "THIS is your home away from home for the next three days... and, after that, we'll get you back to the city and back to school and back to life."

"You coulda just let them have their hearing-thing... I wouldn't a got kicked out." Sam responded flatly.

Frank didn't get angry at being talked back to... not like Sam's second step-dad, a weaselly little terrier barely the same height as the teenager. Instead, the doberman pulled a folded piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and handed it over to the coyote. Ears up, Sam smoothed it out and immediately recognized the school's letter head; the fax header noted that it had been sent the day before and the hand-written note on it read only "The board is going to move for expulsion."

"What's this?" Sam asked immediately.

"What's it look like?" Frank countered.

"They..." the coyote's ears drooped slightly, "They WERE gonna kick me out?" though he had meant to provide an air of indignation it came out more like a surprised question.

The doberman nodded sagely, "I asked Ted to take some time to think about it, and then just tell your mother that they were going to have a meeting to discuss it." he turned off the car.

"But... I--" the news was both surprising and unsettling to the young coyote. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that his step father had called the principal by his first name, and that got some of his fur standing on end.

"No big deal." Frank wore his air of superiority like a second set of fur, "I know your principal from a ways back, and being your step dad means that I could discuss it with him and not have to get your mother involved... right?" the doberman spread his lips wide, showing a large, sharp-toothed grin.

"Yea..." the coyote mumbled, "thanks..." he popped the door on his side of the vehicle, "Maybe next time you could skip them telling her anything so I don't have to sit on the couch for an hour with her giving her 'You disappoint me so much' sighs every three minutes."

The doberman got out right after him, and walked around to meet him at the back of the car before popping the trunk, "Your mom's not all that understanding a lady, you know."

Sam didn't miss the fact that the dog didn't bother gathering up any of the camping equipment, "You expect me to carry all this in?" he demanded.

"Yes." Frank responded in a casual tone.

"I'll carry my own stuff." the coyote countered.

"You can make several trips," the doberman replied, "but you're carrying everything." and, with that, Frank walked off toward the front door to the cabin.

Sam's mother was NOT an understanding woman, and he was used to being kept on a short leash but he had never had a step dad who was anything other than a pushover. The doberman's matter-of-fact reply caught the young coyote by such surprise that he didn't have an argument ready... so he did as he was told.

Frank stood by the front door, impassively watching and making no attempt to help as Sam did as was directed, bringing all of their gear up onto the porch "Just so you know," Frank noted as the coyote made the final trip up to him, "This isn't a traditional camp out."

"I figured." Sam replied, "Camp outs don't usually involve cabins."

"You can muster up quite a tone when you want to." Frank offered blandly, obviously not-in-the-least impressed with the coyote's comment.

"I got in trouble for fighting at school..." Sam picked up his backpack and hefted it onto his shoulder, using the non-verbal action as a cue for Frank to finally let him inside, "...so why not here too?"

"Nobody ever taught you how to pick your fights, did they?" the doberman inquired. Sam was short for his age, and Frank was tall. Despite dobermans being a thin breed the dog, having a good amount of muscle, he was still a good degree thicker than the coyote. Regardless, the teen was unprepared to see how casually Frank picked up a large duffel bag that had given him so much trouble to carry, "...bad timing... bad location..." and the dobie walked off through the open door, "You're not off to a good start, Sammy."

Sam picked up two bed rolls and trotted after the doberman. He bit his tongue at being called 'Sammy'-- he hated that. Instead, he chose not to answer the question.

Frank came to a stop, almost making the young coyote run into him. He gazed over his shoulder, brown eyes reflecting faintly green in the half-light inside the cabin, "I suppose I should take that as a no?"

"That wasn't rhetorical?" Sam challenged.

The doberman dropped the duffel bag onto a nearby arm chair and turned to face him, "Your mom's right, you know... you're not doing so well without a dad to teach you things."

The casual comment immediately got the coyote's fur to stand on end. He managed to fight back a growl, and instead chose his words carefully, "He took off when I was 5... didn't exactly teach me much except the best ways to run away."

"Sorry to hear that." Frank noted with what felt like near-genuine empathy. Sam was immediately made uncomfortable when the large doberman planted a paw on his shoulder, "Everyone needs a big male around now and again."

He quickly shrugged it off, though the lingering word choice his step dad had used didn't help settle his fur, "Hey, no big deal... I'm doing just fine."

"Is that so?" the doberman gave the coyote an appraising glance as he walked back toward door leading out of the cabin, "You're doing so fine that you would have been expelled from school without help, and now you're bunking with your step dad 50 miles from cell phone coverage so you don't have to face your mom and explain everything to her?"

Sam grit his teeth as the dobie finally put into words what they both knew as a fact; the coyote was forced to obey Frank because the dog held all the cards. He tried his best nonchalant teenage tone, "What?" he asked incredulously, "That's not what it's about!"

Frank smirked so wide he showed teeth... he smirked that knowing smirk that he used all too often, "Oh, come on, Sammy... I'm not blind. I see the way she deals with you... you're scared of her."

"I'm not--" Sam began, but his step-father quickly spoke over him.

"Of course you are." Frank attested, quickly transferring the items on the porch in through the door way, "Now come put this stuff away." and, with that, the dobie closed the door, pulled out a key... and locked it. The surprise must have been obvious on Sam's face because he didn't miss his step-dad's grin, "Since I'm in charge for the duration of our stay, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

The prison-style lock down was too much for Sam, "You can't do--"

Frank was quick to talk over him, "It's a big enough cabin... plenty of space to stretch out." and he slid the key back into his pants, "Only one bed though-- you get the couch." the dobie walked right past him, picking up the enormous duffel bag again and walking off down the short hallway that led to the single bedroom.

"Hmph." Sam scowled, maneuvering the few bags he brought with him closer to the couch, "Sleeping on a sofa... what a great vacation."

"It's not a vacation," Frank called from the hallway, "or didn't you realize?" the sound of the dobie walking back toward him from the hallway caught Sam's attention and he looked at his stepfather as the older dog approached, "You were suspended, remember? I figure that I'm doing you a favor by bringing you up here and away from everything." the doberman's muzzle lost its lighthearted smirk, and held an air of severity to it as he stared at the young coyote.

Sam held the gaze for only a few moments before he looked away, "Maybe I don't want you doing me any favors." he mumbled.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Frank questioned, one eyebrow raising in an appraising glance.

"I screwed up, okay?!?" Sam exploded, unable to contend with the dobie's bloated sense of superiority, "You're not supposed to fight at school... I know that!" he slammed a paw into the sofa, "Look... don't you get it?! This kind of thing goes on your permanent record!"

Sam's fury shifted gears, sidetracked by the doberman's sudden laughter. It was a loud, uproarious guffaw, and it was enough to make the coyote feel embarrassed immediately without knowing why. "It's on my..." he tried to repeat, but could do nothing but stare at the doberman whose laughter could put a hyena to shame, "What?!?" Sam demanded, feeling his ears redden immediately.

"Permanent records..." the doberman rolled his eyes, "That's all horse shit." Frank crossed his arms, "That's just something they use to intimidating you into doing anything they want." and his stern gaze washed over Sam, surveying him up and down with a strange, disconnected indifference that left the coyote feeling somehow lesser in his eyes, "Guess it works just fine seeing as you get it all the time at home too."

"I--"

"No... you don't talk." Frank unfolded his arms, "You listen." and, with that, the dobie raised a paw to motion to three hairless scars that ranged from his eyebrow to his neckline just behind his right eye, "THIS is the only permanent record." he traced the jagged lines, "or this..." and he pulled up one sleeve to show the scars of what looked to Sam like numerous puncture wounds on his forearm, "or this." and he raised his muzzle, glancing down out the bottom of his eyes at the young coyote as he indicated a jagged scar that ran from his chin to his adam's apple, "Anything else isn't that permanent." Crossing his arms, the doberman nodded with certainty, "NOW you talk."

Sam had often wondered about the numerous scars on the doberman, but he never thought to ask. Cowed slightly by the older male, Sam's anger had submerged and he was left with a sense of helplessness; it wasn't all that alien a feeling... not like the rage or the anger... not like when he fought. "It... it just... felt different." he admitted, "You know... fighting..." he let out a sigh.

"Did it now?" the doberman questioned, eyes focused in an almost predatory stare.

"Yea..." Sam shied away, "Not just taking the abuse for once..." he shrugged, "It felt different... standing up to someone... telling someone ELSE that they were worthless." he clenched a paw, "...no... SHOWING em that they were." he ground his knuckles against the upholstery, remembering the surprise and fear in the other teen's eyes when he realized that Sam wasn't going to be prey, "For two seconds I felt..." the coyote sighed, "... I don't know what I felt... maybe..." he shrugged, "...maybe... like for once -I- was the one in control."

"Is that so?" the doberman gazed at him with an unreadable expression. Sam felt his ears reddening as he considered that his step father was poking fun at him.

"Just... forget it." Sam scowled, flopping down onto the sofa.

"Forget what?" Frank asked, sitting down right next to the teen, "That you realize you don't like being the victim all the time?"

"I'm not a victim." the coyote objected, but he surprised himself about the lack of conviction in his voice.

"You're right." the doberman nodded, "Most victims don't usually choose to be abused."

"What?!" Sam objected, standing up immediately, "I don't choose t--" but his words were cut off by a yelp as his step dad took firm hold of his tail and pulled him right back down onto the couch.

"Usually that's exactly what you do." Frank noted calmly, "You're letting yourself be a victim... except for this time, when you finally struck back and let that boy know that you're not his bitch."

Sam was taken aback by Frank's candid commentary, and he felt his ears go red with a blush, "I just--"

"Now you're rationalizing it?" the dobie questioned, "You're saying 'I just' like you're trying to come up with some excuse for not wanting to be someone's bitch?"

The interjection and jump of logic caught Sam even more off guard, "I didn't say--"

"That's EXACTLY what you said." Frank noted, leaning over to put a paw on the young coyote's chest, pinning him to the sofa, "I said you didn't want to be someone's bitch and you didn't say 'yes, exactly'... sounds like you're not even SURE what you want."

"I know what I--"

The doberman didn't relent, "I think you're used to your mom telling you what's right and wrong, so you get so confused you have to look to others for guidance."

"Are..." Sam's ears fell slightly at the confusing mix of comments from his step father, "Are you... teasing me?"

"I don't know," Frank responded, staring straight at Sam's eyes, his grinning muzzle two inches from the coyote's, with the large dog's paw holding Sam down by the chest, "...am I?"

Sam cleared his throat, and quickly attempted to move to the side, but he was held firmly in place by Frank's weight, "I..." he looked away from Frank's gaze.

"Your problem is understanding control, Sam." Frank interjected, still making no move to let him up or to shift position, "You like the feel of control, but don't know what to do with it when you have it." He kept one paw on Sam's chest, but his other one reached back and undid the button that held Frank's pants up above the nub of his tail.

The coyote fidgeted, "What are you--?"

"I'm giving you a lesson in control, Sammy..." Frank answered cryptically, "One I can tell you haven't had before." the dobie reached forward and gripped the button on the front of the coyote's jeans, "But I have a feeling you REALLY need it."

"I had a right to hit him!" Sam objected with the first thought that came to mind, a complete non sequitor as the large doberman kicked off his own pants, revealing that he was not wearing any underwear. "He..." the coyote mumbled, eyes following the coffee-colored fur trail from his step dad's belly button down to the firm, furry sheath that was obviously well-filled, "... called me..."

"I know." Frank answered, taking the opportunity to unzip the coyote's fly; Sam was struck dumb, and didn't even have the where-withal to struggle, "And three kinds of people get THAT violent when someone calls them a 'homo'... either they're so incredibly insecure that they can't handle one single little mocking comment..." the dobie no longer bothered holding Sam down, using one paw on either leg to yank the young coyote's jeans straight off, "...or it's possible that they really ARE gay..."

"That's..." Sam fidgeted, paws going over his own groin to cover it despite the fact that he still had underwear on, "that's only two kinds..." he swallowed against the tightness in his throat; the direction the conversation was going was NOT one that he really wanted to be having... especially not with his step-dad. "You said there were three."

"So there are..." Frank acknowledged, standing tall in front of the seated coyote, his groin at eye-height to his step son. The doberman stood confidently, paws on his hips and making no attempt to hide the peeking tip of red flesh emerging from his sheath, "...the third kind is the one who happens to be both."

"I--" Sam began, but was cut off once more by his step dad.

"I'm thinking you're the third kind." Frank announced with the kind of certainty that usually drove the coyote insane but, at that moment, it wedged an icy spear of fear into him.

"B-but I'm not--"

Frank reached down with one arm and gripped both of Sam's paws by the wrists then hauled him up to a standing position, revealing, much to the coyote's incredible embarrassment, the obvious bulge in his underwear; the doberman did NOT miss it. Frank unbuttoned his shirt, commenting casually as he did so, "Well one of you is a liar..." at which point he tossed his shirt off to the side and wrapped an arm around the surprised young coyote, pulling him close.

Sam's eyes widened in surprise as he felt himself squeezed against his step dad's naked body. Even through his shirt he could feel the warmth of the large dog's body, and through his underwear he could feel the bunched muscles of the doberman's thigh pressed to his swollen sheath. Frank, being a decent degree taller, had his naked groin pressed to the coyote's midsection and Sam was certain that it wasn't his imagination that his shirt already felt sticky; the doberman's powerful male scent was almost as poignant as a slap in the muzzle and it left his head spinning, "W-why are..." he fidgeted, "Why are you--"

Frank stopped the words by closing his paw gently around the young coyote's muzzle. The dobie leaned forward, touching his nose to the teen's and spoke softly, "Because I can..." and he lowered himself onto the sofa, then, with a yank, pulled Sam down into his lap, "...and because I know you won't stop me."

"You're..." Sam tried to pull away, but he managed little more than shifting himself into a sitting position, his rump resting on the large dobie's thighs.

"I'm in charge, that's what I am." Frank announced, and pulled the coyote a little closer. The teen didn't miss the fact that several inches of thick dog flesh had emerged from his step father's sheath; it was a darker red than his own member, and easily half-again as thick. The doberman chuckled, and only then did Sam realize he'd been staring, "Like what you see, Sammy?" he asked condescendingly.

"But..." Sam offered, struggling far less than he knew he should have been, "you're married to--"

"Your mother," the large dobie agreed, leaning forward to almost affectionately rub the young coyote's nose with his own, "Yes I am." he smiled, extending his tongue to lick the front of Sam's velvety muzzle.

"I..." the teen fidgeted, moving his paws to cover the bulge in his own underwear and the developing damp spot from where his disobedient flesh was excitedly leaking precum. Sam was still light-headed, his step-dad's masculine scent making it hard to think about anything but the aching confines of the cloth surrounding his waist, "...you can't--" but he was silenced when Frank took the opportunity to stick his tongue into the coyote's open muzzle.

Sam's head swam as the dobie explored his mouth. Frank was not a meek kisser, and the young coyote was overpowered almost immediately, the dog's tongue having its way with his. Eyelids fluttering, the coyote felt like he was barely able to breathe, eliciting a meek, whimpering moan as the doberman gripped either side of the elastic band on his underwear, and tore it literally in two. Sam stiffened in alarm the moment Frank wrapped an arm around the small of him back but his muscles turned to jelly when the dog pulled him forward, fully into his lap, and their sheathes touched.

"There..." Frank crooned softly, reaching down to wrap his paw around their joined shafts, pressing them even closer together, "...that's more like what I was expecting." the dog grinned in confidence even as Sam blushed, ears falling to the sides of his head, feeling embarrassed by the young coyote he saw reflected in the doberman's gaze; Sam was forced to admit it: Frank was in charge... and he was good at being in control.

Sam's mother had always been the one to wear the pants in her relationships... all of her other husbands had been spineless pushovers to her and overbearing assholes to him-- he didn't understand how Frank could be so different. The teenager was used to listening to his mother and despising the weak men she was with who took their own insecurity out on him... Frank was obviously different, but Sam didn't have time to try and figure it out; the dobie flexed his hips and the coyote cried out in a mixture of surprise and lust as the slick flesh pressing against his own caused him to hump reflexively into the doberman's grasp.

Frank playfully eased closer, releasing his back, and moving his paw instead to the side of the coyote's face. He leaned forward and nibbled at Sam's ear; the sensations caused the teen to thrust his hips forward again, "With a little practice you might be good at this." the doberman noted, his paw between them changing its grip, stroking back and forth to roll their members against one another, "Given some time, you'll probably grow a little more too." the far-bigger dog chuckled, and Sam felt himself blush again; there was no doubt about it, Frank was decidedly the larger male... and in more than just height. Sam would have objected indignantly over the comment, but the moment he opened his muzzle, he found fingers crammed inside.

"hmnngfh." the coyote objected, his tongue pinned by the doberman's digits. He tried to roll them out of his mouth, but his step father was far too strong. Sam pulled his head back, but Frank's paw followed him. All of the movement accomplished was grinding his groin further into the doberman's, making his whole body tingle; it didn't take the sensations very long to wear the fight right out of him, and it was then that Frank began to slowly finger-fuck his muzzle.

"There you go, Sammy..." the doberman offered in a gentle cooing tone, almost as if he were talking to a pet dog and not a step-son, "that's a good boy." Frank's digits slid through his lips, playing across his tongue. At first, Sam thought that the fingers in his mouth were creating the powerful sensations in his body, but, only after his logical mind managed to peek through the lustful haze did he realize that it was doberman's paw holding their cocks together, moving it in time with his thrusting fingers.

Enjoying the sensation of the older dog's maleness against his own, Sam took the next leap of thought that his sex-addled brain threw at him: he began to suck Frank's fingers. "mmm..." he moaned softly against his step father's paw, tail flagging wildly at the attention the doberman's digits gave to his eager shaft.

The obedience bore fruit as the dobie, smiling, began to caress the young coyote's needy length against his own all the more skillfully. Every slurp, every lick, and every efficient use of his lips on his step father's fingers gained him that much more of a sensation against his flesh. Unable to deny his desire for a release, Sam bobbed his head eagerly, his movements increasing in speed and desperation as he attempted to fit the doberman's entire paw into his muzzle. Suddenly, however, Frank opened his paw and the tactile sensation of the other male's smooth penis left Sam's.

The lack of pressure against his throbbing member only made the tenseness inside his groin that much worse, and he whimpered. The coyote reached down for his shaft, embarrassed that Frank was going to make him have to play with himself in the dog's presence, but the dobie's powerful grip latched onto his wrist, stopping him from granting himself release, "I don't think so, Sammy..." a faint hint of sadism revealed itself in Frank's grin, "...not yet." and, with that, the dobie spread his legs wider, and pushed Sam off of his lap and down to the floor.

The dejected coyote fell to the ground, one paw still held by the wrist. Frank pulled him to his knees, wrapping his other paw around the back of the teen's head and pulled Sam's muzzle right into his lap. The coyote's eyes watered at the sudden, powerful embrace of his step-father's scent. They had been in the car most of the day, and the warm weather had brought out a more pronounced musky aroma; the face-full of the dobie's odor was enough to make Sam's teeth ache, albeit, not quite as much as his throbbing member.

Sam inhaled a deep breath, the musk making his heart flutter as his brain drowned in the scent. He barely even registered Frank's casual, "You don't finish until I do.", though he got the idea once the paw at the back of his head gently-but-firmly gripped his head fur, and guided the teen's muzzle to exactly where the dobie wanted it. By that point, Sam was unable to deny that their wants followed the same path... and he unabashedly parted his lips, eagerly engulfing Frank's bobbing length with his mouth.

The young coyote felt Frank's the dobie's pleased breath against the fur on the top of his head and, for just a single moment, Sam was disgusted by how easily his step-father got what he had wanted... but that self reproach was quickly washed away by a gentle pat on the back of his head. The teen would have smiled at the positive attention if not for the fact that the doberman's thick shaft was half-way down his muzzle. The good feelings, however, turned quickly into heightened anxiety as Frank's fingers curled around the back of the teen's head and pulled the boy's muzzle forcefully down into his crotch.

Sam gagged as the tip of the dobie's cock pressed against the back of his throat, and tried to pull back, but to no avail. Tears came to his eyes as he fought for a moment to catch his breath, his exhale blasting into the dog's groin fur. The paw holding him in place loosened and the coyote took in a deep breath, almost choking at the thick, masculine aroma assaulting his nose. He swallowed once, then twice, feeling an errant, sticky dribble of precum slowly trailing its way down the back of his esophagus.

Frank chuckled at the reaction and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around the teen's abdomen. Using a maneuver Sam would have expected to see on TV during a wrestling match, the doberman hauled him up into the air, the older male's member slipping free of Sam's muzzle when he opened it in surprise. Frank let go of him once the coyote was splayed across the sofa, head still in his step dad's lap, "Try again." the doberman's suggestion may as well have been an order and, despite Sam's insistent desire to be less than cooperative, he couldn't bring himself to deny the invitation, and his muzzle sought the length of flesh between his step father's legs.

Sam slid his lips around Frank's large member, quivering with excitement as he felt its texture against his tongue and tasted the salty precum. He reveled in the sensation of it sliding toward the back of his muzzle, and slowed as it reached the point where he had gagged before. One of Frank's paws reached down past his nose, gripping the mostly withdrawn sheath, and he began to ease it back over a rapidly thickening knot, letting it slip free before it grew too large to escape. Though the teen practically had to cross his eyes to see the bulbous lump of flesh, it was something he couldn't help but stare at.

"There's a good boy." the dobie noted, keeping one paw on the back of the coyote's head as the other supported his own length, fingers slipped behind the knot to hold it steady as Sam bobbed his head eagerly in service to his step-father. The teen felt Frank remove the paw from the back of his head, but it didn't stop him in pursuing his goal; each motion of his muzzle drew forth another droplet of salty fluid from the doberman's flesh, and he knew that eventually far more would be flowing... and then it would be his turn.

Sam moaned against the member in his mouth, grinding his hips eagerly against the sofa where he lay. The coyote shivered, his shaft caught between the cushion and his body, stimulated with every faint motion. "What did I say earlier?" Frank questioned, his voice firm, but not entirely aggressive. The paw that had left his head instead gripped the scruff on his neck and pulled Sam up onto his knees, removing the sensations and stimulation on his cock. The coyote whimpered faintly, but the sound was lost amidst the suckling of his step father's member.

The paw grasping at his scruff was removed as quickly as it had appeared, and Sam returned to his work, moving with vigor in the hopes that the doberman would make good on his promise; Frank wanted to cum, that much Sam knew... and the sooner that happened the sooner he'd be able to solve his own problem. He was so focused on the member between his lips he lost track of where the doberman's paw went... and he almost yelped in surprise when the dog's firm grip encircled his eager, pink, teenage shaft.

Unable to do more than moan through his nose, Sam quickly thrust his hips forward, eagerly seeking Frank's touch and the feelings it would bring. He managed two quick gyrations of his hips, precum freely spraying out into the dobie's palm before his step-dad pulled away. The coyote whined faintly against the member in his muzzle, but, knowing Frank would near no objection, doubled his efforts at stimulating the dog. Sam had never given head before, and didn't know if he was doing it right, but he was willing to try anything... to DO anything if it meant that Frank would get off his case and let him finish up himself.

"Not bad, Sammy..." the dobie chuckled, "not bad at all..." Frank relaxed his grip on his own shaft, surrendering it over to Sam's ministrations as he moved the paw to the back of the coyote's head, guiding the teen's movements with gentle pressure. Sam was just getting used to the instruction when all action came to a screeching halt; he felt Frank's other paw, slick with the teen's own precum, sliding up beneath his tail.

The coyote barely managed to spit the thick cock out of his mouth, and issued forth a quick, "W--wait!"

"What's that, Sammy?" questioned the doberman with a chuckle, "I can't hear you when your muzzle's full." and, with that, Frank pressed his palm up against the coyote's anus, slathering it with the slippery fluid. Sam's tail clamped down immediately, tucking between his legs. Frank, however, seemed completely unconcerned, "Shouldn't you be focusing on something more important, kiddo?" and the paw on the back of his head pushed his face back down toward his groin.

Whimpering, Sam was caught between fear and lust... the scent of his step father's excitement made the contest of emotions an unfair one; lust easily won out, and the teen obediently accepted the thick, pulsing member back into his muzzle. Moments later, the dobie curled a finger up beneath his tail, and slid it slowly inward, up to the first knuckle. Fidgeting, the coyote hated that his tail was no longer curled, and he felt both ashamed and embarrassed when, seemingly of its own volition, it slowly swayed to the side, providing his step father more access... which was quickly put to good use.

The teen grunted at the invasion into his body as the finger pressed deeper; the strange sensation of something going into him was uncomfortable and alien. Despite what Sam did or did not want, he could not deny that his step father was the one in control... whether he hated the situation or not, he realized, even as the finger slipped into him past the second knuckle that it was going to happen.

"Good... very good, Sammy." Frank noted, and the coyote inwardly hated how good the praise felt... enough that his tail almost started to wag, but that ended quickly as the doberman's finger withdrew, only to be slid back inside accompanied by a second. Sam arched his back. No longer restrained by his step father's paw he pulled his head back from his work on the dobie's cock, "Ow..."

Frank chuckled above him, "We're never going to get anywhere if you keep stopping." He ran his fingers through the fur atop the coyote's head and, for a moment, Sam's heart jumped up into his throat when he thought the dobie was going to push his head back down... but he didn't. Instead, Frank grabbed hold of the back of his shirt collar, and pushed him away. Sam almost slipped off the sofa but, with the grip his step father had on his tail, he was, instead, slid around to the side, laying with his chest on the back of the sofa, rump stuck up in the air, facing the dog. "I know the best way to finish up..."

"F-Frank...?!?"

His step-dad's only response was to grip his tail with one paw, two fingers from the other still buried a good inch into his opening, "Mmm... tight little ass, Sammy..." the dobie finally spoke, saying the words as if it was the finest compliment possible.

"I..." Sam spoke, his chest pressed down against the couch's backing. He didn't get any more words out of his muzzle as Frank pushed his fingers in deeper, taking the coyote's breath away. The teen fidgeted as his step father maintained a tight grip on his tail, pulling Sam's hips back toward his paw with as much strength as he pressed it forward.

"You--" he tried again, but, with a sudden twist of his wrist, the dobie rotated his fingers, and the tips struck a spot within the teen that caused him to go weak in the knees, "...oh god..." he gasped, feeling his member emerge the rest of the way from its sheath at the single touch.

"And there's a lot more of that to come." the doberman promised, pulling both fingers free. Sam had just enough time to feel the strange, stretched emptiness inside him before being assailed by the unmistakable sensation of being jabbed by the pointed tip of Frank's flesh. The teenager winced, shying away from the "hock-ptu" sound of his step father spitting. Some of the spittle hit his tail, and some splattered down onto the fur of his scrotum, but he realized where the majority of it hit; lubricated by Sam's precum and his own saliva, Frank pressed forward.

Sam gasped, crying out as his virgin opening was parted far wider than the dobie's fingers had done. He scrambled for purchase on the sofa, clawing at the back of it as he splayed his legs, arching his back, and doing anything he could to ease the pressure inside of him. His eyes teared from the pain, and, for a moment, he was sure that Frank was going to rip him in half. All of that ended immediately however the moment the dobie's thick member hit that special place, and the coyote's scream turned into a lust-filled groan.

"Mmm... you like that, do ya, Sammy?" his step dad asked, stopping mid-thrust. The dog had one paw still gripping the base of the teen's tail while the other traveled a few inches up his body to rest against the small of his back. Sam had no response to the comment, unable to stop the doberman from fucking him, and, after the sensation of what it did to him, he was not quite certain that he'd even want to stop him if he could.

"I asked if you like it." Frank repeated his earlier question, slowly pulling his hips back, vacating the teen's tail hole more than an inch. Sam was unable to find a voice to answer the inquiry, far too embarrassed to admit the truth. Instead, he simply lowered his head, then raised it, offering a feeble nod. "I knew you'd see things my way." the dobie chuckled and, without the slightest warning, pressed his cock right back into place; Sam was too surprised to suppress his moan.

"Mmm..." the dobie murmured, lowering his body across the teen's back, nibbling at the fur on Sam's neck even as he continued rocking his hips, slowly working his length centimeters deeper with each progressive thrust, "You make that sound even nicer than your mom does..."

The comment should have sickened Sam; it should have snapped him out of his lust-filled desires and brought about a sense of revulsion.... but it didn't. A dirty thrill ran through the teen, and, instead of recoiling at his step-father's announcement, he did the exact opposite: he embraced the praise, moaned again, and was thrilled all the more for it.

"There you go..." Frank acknowledged, and stifled the teen's vocalization with a firm thrust, causing Sam to nearly cough at the sudden pressure inside him. He gripped the backing of the sofa with both paws, squeezing tightly as the dobie's next three thrusts drove him several inches deeper. The coyote yelped, crying out as his step father's knot bumped up against the opening beneath his tail.

"I..." the teen gasped, "I don't think..." his breath came out in thick blasts, making it difficult for him to speak, "... I can..."

Instead of responding, Frank simply backed up, his member slipping out of the young coyote's rump with an audible pop, "Turn over." the dobie directed, not even bothering to address Sam's lack of confidence in the situation. The teen, despite his reservations, complied, whining faintly as he did so. "Good boy." his step-father announced simply, and pulled the coyote's legs to the end of the sofa so that he laid down with his head propped up against the back support with his back on the seat, tail draping off the couch, exposing his tail hole to the dog.

Without another word, Frank hunched over him, moving one paw down to grab hold of his bobbing shaft and guiding it into place. Sam grit his teeth as his step father slid into him but he was surprised to discover that it wasn't as uncomfortable as the first time... yet the erotic sensation of the large dog's shaft thrusting deep into his body was just as strong. "Oh god..." the coyote whimpered, unable to deny the thrill that ran through him as he saw the lust in the doberman's eyes... it was a desire for him. Frank wanted to take him as his bitch, and Sam couldn't believe that he wanted the same thing.

Huffing out a gasp, the coyote followed it up with a grunt when the dobie's knot pounded against his opening again; far fewer thrusts had eased Frank's flesh into him. Gripping the sofa cushion beside him with one paw, Sam brought the other to his furless pink penis which bobbed up and down on his abdomen in time with the doberman's thrusts. Closing his eyes, Sam gave into the feeling as he encircled his length, pumping furiously as the rutting dog's thick shaft inside him drove him even closer to the release he so desperately desired.

Frank's tone was firm, but not severe, "We already discussed that, Sammy." and the dobie slapped Sam's paw away. The coyote whimpered, and brought his paw back to his needy member. In response, his step-father reached down and grabbed him by the wrist then, as if barely an afterthought, grabbed his other arm with the same paw and encircled them both with his fingers. He pressed both of Sam's arms up over his head, forcing them, crossed at the wrists against the back of the sofa. "Such an impatient little puppy." the dobie noted condescendingly.

Frank picked up speed after that. With the majority of his weight over the coyote, the dobie had a much greater depth for thrusting, and his knot was repeatedly slamming against Sam's tortured tail hole... but the sensation had long since moved from painful to enticing. Frank's rock-hard member was stimulating the teen's insides in ways he had never thought possible, and, as his own shaft began to spurt small little blasts of precum Sam suddenly realized that the dobie would probably drive him to climax without him even needing his cock touched.

Squirming, the coyote wrapped his legs around his step father's hips. Moaning loudly, Sam straightened the length of his body as much as possible, pushing off of the back of the couch and into the dobie's next thrust. He clenched his ankles against the small of Frank's back, using his leg muscles to pull his step-father into him with as much force as he could... and his next moan became a cry of pain as his opening stretched obscenely to permit the dog's knot.

Sam grit his teeth, quivering at the feeling of the thick flesh stuck inside of him. "Eager little slut, aren't you?" his step dad chided, but the coyote had long since lost the capacity to be embarrassed... not with his need so great. At least, he thought so, until Frank's next words. The dobie leaned forward, his thrusts coming short, quick, and powerfully, his knot pulling against the coyote's insides, driving him crazy with the stimulation. "Your mom said I'd never get you to call me 'dad'."

The comment caused Sam to startle with surprise, and his insides clamped down around the invading flesh, making him see red in pain. "...what?" he gasped once the pain had subsided.

"You heard me." Frank answered, nibbling on the teen's ear, "You're going to call me your dad from now on."

The doberman kept hold of both of the coyote's arms, gripping them around the wrist with a single paw. Sam didn't respond, trying to ignore the request as he focused on the doberman's thrusts, thinking about the very thin line he faced between the continued torture of being unable to cum and the euphoric release of his much desired orgasm. The coyote clenched his toes, trying to rock his hips forward against his step-father's abdomen, but to no avail; the dobie obviously knew what he was doing. Try as he might, there was nothing the coyote could do to find release... not while Frank kept him from it.

"So..." Frank murmured, licking the side of Sam's face from under his jaw to the top of his head, "Am I your dad?"

The faintest whimper escaped him when he realized that he was going to give in, "...you are." he wheezed, his teeth chattering in desperate need for release. His paw would have moved to tend to his aching flesh the moment the dobie loosened his grip, but the dog grinned with a hint of sadism, tightening his paw around the coyote's wrists anew.

"I'm what, Sammy?" Frank questioned.

"Anything you want." Sam gasped desperately.

"Anything?" the doberman asked, squeezing his wrists a little tighter as he thrust back in.

"Just..." the coyote quivered, "just tell me what you want me to say!"

Frank chuckled and let go of the teen's paws, "You just said it."

Sam was ready to grab hold of his cock and vigorously pound away at it until he came... he would have eagerly given himself a friction burn in order to put an end to the suffering, but he never got a chance. Above him, the doberman bucked twice more in rapid succession, and then groaned his way through a stiff-legged, powerful thrust, hilting himself inside his step son as his member twitched again, and again. The coyote could feel the doberman's cum spray his insides, the spasming member tickling him in such a way that it could not be ignored.

Yowling like one of his mother's flings, Sam cried out, his own shaft pulsing as his cum sprayed out across his step-father's abdomen. The coyote shut his eyes as his body was wracked with the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced; he knew immediately that there was no way he would ever be able to replicate it using his own paw. Eyes clenched, riding each shuddering spurt to its fullest, the teen shivered at the feel of the doberman's paws on either of his ears.

Gasping, Sam was pulled off the sofa and landed with a thump in Frank's lap. The teen saw stars for a moment at the movement from the knot within him but it was erased by an aftershock of pleasure as the pressure forced a little more semen from him. He sat with his legs splayed, a knee on either side of the doberman's hips. His step father, laying on the ground on his back, stared up at the coyote, who felt himself blush immediately.

"I..." it took a moment for Sam to find his voice, "I can't believe we..." he faltered, finding it hard to put the act into words, settling in the end for "did that."

"Believe it." Frank announced casually, letting out a wide yawn, "or don't." he reasoned, and reached up to take hold of the teen's shirt. With scarcely any effort, the doberman yanked it off of him, buttons shooting in random directions as they were torn loose. Frank tossed the shirt off to the side, and pulled Sam back down against him. "Sofa seems like a bad place for you to sleep tonight."

"Uh..." Sam's response lacked any eloquence; he was still focused on the doberman's pulse, which he felt on his insides through the thick member buried up beneath his tail, "kay..."

"You'll sleep in bed with me tonight." Frank announced.

A faint sense of guilty glee shivered its way through the young coyote, "Sure." The doberman raised his head to gaze at Sam, and only then did the teen realize his mistake, "Oh... uh... Sure, Dad." Frank's victorious smile did not leave Sam as embarrassed or dejected as he would have thought... in fact, it was enough for the coyote to realize that the weekend was going to be a lot better than he'd first expected.