Unholy Sermon

Keith the bear was lounging in his sofa, sipping from a large can of beer and puffing at the stump of a home-rolled cigarette. His nicotine-coloured claws, inbetween the smoking and the drinking, were idly tickling his half-chub. The brown fur of his body was matted and the overall smell of him and his crib was downright gnarly. He didn't mind though, musk only turned him on, and all that smoking dulled his sense of smell anyways.
"DING-DONG!" the doorbell rang.
"Aw Hell no, I was just trying to unwind," he said to himself, mashing the pitiful remains of his cigarette into an overfilled ashtray and lazily getting off the couch, heading to the front door.
He peered through the small glass-hole and spotted a handsome racoon in an impeccable suit.
"Fuck no," he thought, "maybe it's a Furcast lawyer coming to bill me for torrenting." Idly he pondered leaving the visitor out in the cold, but then a certain kind of curiosity came over him. Who knew what the visitor wanted?
He opened the door ajar and peered out suspiciously. To his surprise the well-groomed racoon was accompanied by a young boy, also a racoon, peering up at him with surprisingly confident eyes. Taken aback he said: "Y-yes?"
"Hello sir, my name is Andrew and this here is my son Jack," the racoon said cheerily.
"Uhhh, yeah, how can I help you?" the bear said somewhat impatiently, his half-finished beer calling out to him from the living room.
"Me and my son here wanted to talk to You about Fuhova, the one and true god of all furry-kind!" The racoon was positively beaming with positivity, thrusting his arm forward with a pamphlet bearing the headline of FurTower.
A slow and grinding headache was forming in the back of Keith's head, his unwinding and his beer interrupted by preachers. Fucking Hell..
"Yeah, no, I am not really interested.." he said, hoping to deter the converters away from his doorstep.
The racoon took it in stride, somehow managing to smile wider and look even more pleased than before. "That is allright sir, then I bid You a goo-"
"You're going to Hell," chirped the young boy, with all the conviction a pre-teen can have.
"W-what the fu-"
"You're going to Hell because you are an unbeliever. The LORD punishes sinners like you in the eternal flames forever and ever!"
"Wh-"
"But we can help You! Let us teach you the words and prayers so that Fuhova may take you into his ranks when Furmageddon comes!" The young racoon sounded so stern and sincere it gave pause even to Keith, who by no means was a holy man. Then came the rage. His cheeks reddened as his blood started to boil, evil thoughts creeping into his mind.
The older racoon looked somewhat surprised by the kit's outburst, but also a little smug, satisfied and proud, his progeny parroting the teachings he had imprinted since a very young age.
Keith made a snap decision to turn the situation to his favour and maybe settle the score and get some pleasure out of it. He locked eyes with the young racoon, who leaned backwards from the balefull stare, and then tried his darndest to smile agreeably. The sudden shift in expression visibly confused the little trashpanda who shakily smiled back.
"Why certainly," Keith said in silky-smooth tones, "I might be needing some of what you preach, young man." He looked back up at the coon-dad and opened the door wide, the smell of fresh cigarette-smoke and stale beer oozing out. "Come on in, mi casa su casa, eh?" He gestured them to come inside like the most gracious of hosts. 
They wasted no time in stepping inside, probably the first fish on the hook in a long time, he thought. 
The living room was a mess, but he cleared his two-seater of dirty laundry and bid them to sit down while he prepared a cup of coffee for the older racoon and a soda for the cub. Amazingly they didn't look too put off by the small mound of cigarette-butts or the array of beercans, bottles and dirty dishes spread over his couch-table. 
"So tell me about Fuhova," he called from the kitchen as he quickly wiped a glass and a mug with a dirty towel, getting some of the grime off before pouring hot water onto some instant coffee and some lemon soda into the glass. 
The older racoon droned on and on about divinity and sin and redemption and the apocalypse while the cub stared disdainfully around the filthy room and doubly so at Keith every time he took another big gulp of his beer. His face frowning at the dirty glass, but sipping dutifully directed by the stern stare of his father who looked as if the filthy conditions were a regular condition for him. Finally he came to end of his sales pitch.
"So the good book teaches us that everyfur can be redeemed and be assured a place in he- hiii- ha-- Uhhhhhh." With that he trailed off, his head tilted and he slumped forwards, hitting his head on the table on crumbling down on the floor, beercans and bottles clinking and clanking as they were unsettled on the table.
The cub's face was an -O- of astonishment until he too slumped over and to the side, neatly leaning down on the spot his father has just vacated.
"Finally!" Keith exclaimed, "I was getting fucking sick and tired of your bullshit! Call me a sinner, tell me I will go to Hell, In my own home?" He was shaking with anger now. "I will show sin! I will show you what punishment is!"
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Andrew the racoon looked much less a saint and much more a deviant now. Keith had dragged father and son down to basement and into his special room, a BDSM dungeon he used often as both dom and sub, experiencing the many pains and pleasures the furry body has to offer for such a depraved bear like himself.
Now the racoon was sitting high on a black leather throne, a multitude of straps keeping him securely in place, his arms and legs secured by metal clasps and a choke-collar tied behind his head. His pristine clothes had been discarded in an unruly pile in the corner of the room and he slumped nakedly on the throne, the choke-collar making his breath laborous but steady.
Jack was similarly de-clothed, a pair of cuffs linking his hands together in front of him, a thick black collar with inverted spikes around his neck, the short leather leash held in a firm grip by the grumpy bear who was sitting on a padded leather stool, patiently waiting for the both of them to wake from their drug-induced slumber.
He had indeed laced their drinks with a powerful sedative he usually took in much smaller amounts for its recreational value. Now it had served another purpose...
Somehow both racoons awoke simultaniously, blinking slowly, straining their eyes and their bodies against their bounds. The cub was quick to his feet, but a hard and painful yank brought him back towards the bear. Andrew was slower to wake up fully, confusion clear on his face as he struggled to move and failing, coughing violently as he unknowingly tightened the choke-collar around his throat.
"Don't pull against the collar, preacher-man, you'll injure yourself," The bear said smugly.
"What are you doing, why are we here?" The racoon wearily asked, quickly wising up to the situation. "Let me go, let us go!" the cub yelled before a sharp smack to his cheek silenced him.
"Shut up, the both of you! You insulted me! You promised me fire and brimstone! You came to my house and talked shit! Now I shall show you punishment and retribution for your actions!" The bear was spitting with anger, sharply yanking the poor cub this way and that with every exclamation.
"Wait, no, don't hurt him!" Andrew said, "I'll do anything!"
"Oh, you won't be doing much to start with. But I'll tell you what: if your son does everything I say, everything, then when this is over I will let you both go unharmed."
Realising the severity of the situation the preacher groaned with despair and tried to lock eyes with Jack who was wildly staring back at him, panic and pain equally dancing in those innocent orbs. With all his might he tried to convey steadfastness and insurance to calm him down. 
"Do as he says, son, it will all be over quickly that way," he assured the cub, whose frantic pulls on his leash stopped. A hint of his previous self-assuredness came into the cub's expression and he nodded gravely at his father. At least, as much a the leash would allow.
"Great! Now that we have that covered, turn around you little shit!"
The cub did as he was told and was face-to-face with the bear's large erection, the ursine towering over him. The smell of piss and cum was overpowering to the cub who was used to such sanitary conditions as was practiced at home. But Keith was another kind of creature, revelling in musk and funky junk. 
The cub gagged and was then promptly smacked across his snout by the foul member, a sticky residue layering on his fur, the stink instantly doubled and he gagged again before another slap from the other direction fully covered his nose in foul slime.
"Yeah, smell that boy, that is what a real man smells like," the bear exclaimed.
"Now touch it, you little piece of shit!"
The cub was reluctant and looked back at his tied-up dad who was staring helplessly back at him, but managed a small nod to make him coorporate, so he turned and grabbed on to the thick cock with both hands.
"Yeah, just like that. Now pull up and down, nice and easy."
The cub did as told and the reek was tripled as he pulled the foreskin down and exposed a layer of unwashed gunk that slowly began to liquify as he mastrubated the perverted bear who was already producing a good amount of precum that spread across his cockhead and the small hands of the racoon.
Andrew could only watch with horror and disgust as the filthy smell spread around the room, he also had a minute to spare to examine his surroundings: chains and straps and harnesses, whips and paddles were hanging from the walls. A tall shelf was crammed with all sorts of dildos and plugs, bottles of lubricant and an assortment of items he didn't even know what was.
Jack was getting into a rhytm now, the strong smell almost forgotten as he focused on jerking the bear off. He knew what he was doing. He had been told and lectured about the dangers of mastrubation and was sure that every stroke brought his tormenter one step closer to a smiting or at least blindness, afterwhich he would save his father and himself.
"Stop." The bear suddenly said, and the cub let go slowly of the pulsing meat, his chance suddenly gone.
"You were really getting into that, I wonder if you might even be attracted to men such as myself. Huh? What do you say, Andrew, have your priests diddled this guy already? He sure is a cutie-pie once he gets started touching another man's cock!"
The strapped-in racoon simply shook his head in disgust and dismay, not knowing the reasons for his son's fervor.
The cub opened his mouth, with an angry frown on his face, and was promptly and violently yanked by the leash towards the bear's cock which slided across his face as he was pulled directly into the crotch of the older perv. The smell was unimaginable, the musk so thick it left a grimy layer all over.
"You, little boy, you don't talk unless I ask you to! Do you understand?" The words were accompanied by a strong paw on his neck, pressing him deeper into the funky undergrowth. So hard he couldn't even breathe. "Do you understand?" The bear asked again, and a weak wobble was all the cub could manage against the strength of his tormentor. "Good. Now listen up, I am going to let you off my crotch and then I want you to suck my cock like a good little altar-boy. Do you understand?" Again an even weaker wobble.
Keith let go and the cub jerked his head back, heaving deep breaths and thick musk into his lungs, tears of fear and shame running down his cheeks. The throbbing erection was pushed against his mouth. "Suck it."
And so he did. Jack knew this was wrong on so many levels, but the dominating bear gave him no choice and his mouth enveloped the huge organ.
"Yeahhhh, just like that, suck it like a lollipop my lad," he laid back his head in pleasure as the cub did as he was told, the inexperience mouth doing a marvelous job on the head. He grabbed the back of the cub's neck again and pushing him forwards, forcing the cub to accept the filthy cock deep into his mouth.
Jack used the young racoon as a fleshlight, gripping his headfur in a vice and jackhammering away, the cub sputtering and drooling and gagging and crying from the pain and debasement of being used in such a way, his throat constricting from the cockhead jamming down the tight passage.
All too soon it came to an end and Keith forcefully jammed his entire cock down the throat of the helpless cub, powerful spasms racked his body and Jack could feel every spasm on the inside and strange varm fluids running down his gullet. His gag reflex was triggered and stinging cum flew out of his nose and spattered against the crotch-fur of the filthy bear. His head was turning numb from the lack of air and when Keith finally softened his grip the cub was simultaniously heaving deep breaths and vomiting up cum and citrus-smelling liquid all over his crotch.
With strong force he yanked the cub back and he fell to his knees, gasping for air and crying and vomiting up yet more cum.
Keith looked down pleased, utterly unfazed by the filth.
"That felt great, my little cock-sucker, unfortunately I must say I dissaprove of the way you treated my gifts to you, just spilling it on the floor like that.. Tsk. Tsk."
Amidst all this, Andrew was looking on with horror and revulsion from the way his boy was treated. Hot shame and guilt plaguing him all the while. He knew that many dissaproved of bringing kids out for preaching, but he had always thought it was good for his son to experience how unpleasant the unbelievers could be. To strenghten his faith. Oh how he regretted that line of thought now. As his son was mercilessly facefucked, he vowed to himself and to Fuhova that he would never take him out to preach again. Now that the deed was done he hoped the filthy bear would let them go and said:
"Please sir, he did what you asked of him, it's not his fault he threw up! He is just a little kid and this was simply too much for him. Please let us go now, I promise we will never bother you again. Please!"
The bear's look changed from pleased to dissaproval in a milisecond.
"I am not done with the two of you yet, little Jack here still has a task to complete before I consider your debt to me repaid". 
"P-please mister Keith, let us go.." the racoon-cub complained between sobs and residual dry-heaves.
Instead of responding, the ursine looked sternly at the father of the crying cub, the next step of his revenge already planned out.
"You have filled this cub with shit, his mind has been shat on by your indoctrination, his mouth spews out filth to strangers. Know that this is a punishment of your making.." he said omniously. He looked down at the kid who was staring pleadingly at him. "listen, boy, I have one last thing for you to do. Crawl down under your dad, now."
The cub looked confused at the bear and then at Andrew. He could see there was room under the leather throne for him to press himself into. He scooted over on his knees and started to crawl inbetween his fathers legs which were spread wide.
"Not like that, you stupid trash-panda, on your back, worm your way in!"
The cub instantly turned himself around and did as he was told. His eyes widened as he realised what he was staring at. It was his fathers flaccid cock and his butthole! spread wide from the seat he was fastened to. The collar on Jack's neck was biting uncomfortably against a kind of leather pillow that was in there as well, so he had to keep his head upwards, so his nose was almost touching his daddy's behind, a very mild musky smell was there, but mostly the scent of soap, it was almost heaven compared to where his face had just been planted.
"What are you up to now, damn you?" the older racoon hissed with fright in his voice.
"Well, first I think your boy must have a parched throat from what I just put him through, and you will give him what he needs..."
"N-no..."
"Oh yes. Kid! Worm a bit out of there again. And then take your daddy's cock in your mouth!" the bear said with sadistic glee.
Jack was broken at this point and quickly did as he was told, even suckling a bit on the flaccid member his conditioning to cock already in the proces. The older racoon groaned at the stimulus and fought with all his might to restrain an erection, the thought of his sweet, innocent boy enough to keep his manhood down.
Keith smiled with malice and reached forward and pressed sharply into the lower gut of the helpless racoon, the sudden pressure on his bladder enough to make him urinate.
The first jet of piss made the coon-cub sputter and it ran down his face and chest instead.
"Take that dick into your mouth again you fucking whore!" Keith demanded, and Jack instantly returned his mouth to his father's flaccid dick, which promptly spewed out more salty urine from the renewed pressure of the sadistic bear pressing his paw into his stomach.
Had the stream been slower he would have had time to taste it, but the piss was guzzling into his mouth and he did the best he could to swallow it all, only the strong smell and the taste of salt registered his senses. 
It seemed to go on forever, and the cub was getting lightheaded from drinking and drinking and drinking, until the stream dried up and a sudden spurt tickled the back of his throat so he spit out the cock and coughed harshly.
All of a sudden, with every strong cough, his senses were assaulted with the taste and smell of strong, adult urine. It was like the smell of a filthy urinal he had once been forced to use while helping his dad preach downtown. Tears ran down his face anew and his stomach churned from the thought of all that filthy liquid sloshing around in his stomach.
"Now there is just one last thing.." the rumble of the depraved bear took Jack out of his reverie, and Andrew snapped to attention with tears running down his face.
"Since you are so keen of filling your son with shit, I want you to do just that."
"Wh-?" the racoon couldn't even get the words out of his mouth.
"Mmmmm-hmmmm, it's the last thing you guys have to do, then I will set you free."
"No mister, please, I don't wanna!" squeeled the cub from underneath.
"But you have to. Then it will all be over, okay?" the words came out almost covered in honey. However, the stare he gave Andrew was made of steel. The older racoon understood.
"It's okay, sport. Just... Ju-Just do as he says, then we can get out of here," he said while staring pleadingly at the bear. A plaintive mewl could be heard from underneath, but the cub didn't seem to be trying to worm his way out again. Keith kept his eyes locked with father and nodded solemnly.
"Get to it then, shit in your son's mouth. Do it. Fill him up with the same steamy turds you have filled his mind with!"
Eager to get the ordeal over with, the older racoon started to strain mightily. Several loud farts propelled odourous gasses into the face of his cub who closed his eyes that watered even further from the stink, his headfur soaked in piss and tears, his nose assaulted by the smell of sewage. 
Keith was squatting and observing the kid struggle, his cock fully hard again and a sliver of regret of not having access to the cub's ass. Instead he absentmindedly stroked his cock and shivered with perverse lust.
Andrew was finally getting to the point where his tailhole started winking and in the next moment a thick and solid turd began to glide out of his body.
The perverted bear saw that the cub still had his eyes closed and face scrounged up in discomfort from the stinky gas - "Open your eyes, pup, and open your mouth, your dinner is served," he said with merciless mirth in his voice.
Jack opened his eyes wide and gasped at the sight, just as the log was exiting his daddy's sphincter. Quite conveniently as it poofed out with some speed into his mouth. Instantly he retched and started to turn his head to spit it out.
"NO! Keep it in your mouth! Don't you dare spill an ounce of it!" the bear shouted.
With a supreme effort of juvenile will, the racoon cub kept the fat log in his mouth, keeping his head straight and letting it travel further in.
"Good. Good! Now chew on it!"
The poor guy was hicupping with fright and disgust, but he did as he was told. Slowly tearing the poop into brown matter, the smell and taste becoming stronger and stronger as he chewed it apart. Tears were running freely now, running down his face in rivulets, mixing with stale urine and newly formed streaks of brown feces. His cheeks were bulging out, such had been the size of the shit, and his mouth was beginning to overflow from mushy scat.
"Remember, if you spill any, you won't ever get away from here again. So. Eat. It. Up!" The perverse bear demanded.
With a mewl of protest, Jack swallowed a little bit of the much and was instantly close to vomiting, bile and urine stinging the back of his throat.
"Good boy, good boy, just keep it there, let the feeling of sickness pass away before you swallow again. You are doing such a great job, I am sure you can do it," Keith said, his tone suddenly compelling and gentle. Many a fur had been in his twisted hands and he knew how to train a sub, sometimes a forceful tone was counter-productive with this kind of training. 
And as had happened before, with older furs though, his training bore fruit and the cub was able to take another gulp. And another. He barely noticed the big paw of the bear grabbing his tiny dick and start to stroke it.
Jack came into a certain rhytm. By the coaching and continuous encouraging words from the perverted bear, he only swallowed a tiny bit of poop at a time, pausing inbetween to keep his stomach from vomiting, and then chewing and gulping down another scoop of dung. His focus was almost single-minded and the feeling of being mastrubated was only an afterthought. Still, his tiny erection was being masterfully handled and the blooming and sinful pleasure was beginning to creep up on him.
Keith stroked the cub faster and faster, while Andrew looked on with a sickened expression. The smell and the sounds and the sight of his boy being violated struck him to his core and he re-avowed to never ever take him out preaching again.
As the stroking speeded up, so did Jack's efforts and he was soon chewing and swallowing as if he had been born for it. His hips began to gyrate as the skilled hands of his captor brought him closer and closer to his first orgasm. The perverted bear's hand was almost a blur as the last piece of shit ran down the cub's throat and the little racoon exhaled sharply and thrusted his hips and had a dry orgasm coinciding with the slimy mess entering his stomach.
He gasped and panted in the afterglow, his situation almost forgotten from the new and wonderful sensations running through his body, electricity seemed to radiate from his crotch and the fullness of his belly from the piss and the poop buzzed in tandem with those feelings.
Keith slowly stopped stroking the little cock, and with a flourish wiped off a bead pearly cub-milk and brought it to his lips, savoring the taste.
As soon as the stimulation ended, Jack was once again aware of where he was and what had happened. His mouth was caked in shit and his tongue could feel uneven lumps between his teeth. Now that the pleasure was fading, there was nothing to keep him distracted from the filth. He stomach contracted and he heaved and vomited up all the shit and piss he had just painstakingly swallowed. All his efforts for nothing. His face and neck covered in liquid sludge, his stomach upheaved and heavy with despair, he began to bawl his eyes out.

"What a shame. What a shame. Guess I get to keep you then..."