Don’t Sell to Product
By DirtCoyote
Don smiled, peering clear through the hole in Zara Lee’s chest out back to the smoking ring singed into his front door. Zara, the cheating ferret not fully aware of his emptied chest cavity, stood frozen with his paw gripped to his own shooting iron still in its holster. Though he was lightning fast a second ago, ready to put a few holes in the fox’s head, he was now stuck stupid standing with his fingers tightly around the grip. Zara's muzzle slowly went slack, the cigarette hanging out of it falling to the floor.
“Quit standing there fussin’,” Don spoke, the barrel of his Straton G99 plasma revolver still aimed directly at Zara’s chest. “I wasn’t surprised I’d be faster than you.”
All at once, the ferret’s legs gave in and he crumpled to the ground. Don laughed, the fox holstering his pistol back inside of his duster before standing from his desk. He slapped his knee and walked around to inspect him on the floor. Remembering something Zara had that he had coveted for himself, he fished into the ferret’s breast pocket. Feebly, he tried to bring his paws up, but was unable to keep Don from taking his silver cigarette case.
Just another day in the post-apocalypse.
Zara had been a problem for a good minute now. Rumors had it that he’d been extorting people trying to draw from the underground water vein running through their small little settlement of Blymoth. It was the only fresh water in this region for miles. Everything else in the former federation was irradiated to all hell. Might as well be drinking battery acid, and some were damn near desperate enough to try.
Now, Don wasn’t a very empathetic fox. There sure weren’t many feelings he had for the ferret lying underneath him, choking for breath without lungs. Don was equally apathetic towards the villagers that begged for his help, not really caring to step in over a wrinkle that would straighten itself on its own: Either someone was going to get thirsty enough to empty a few rounds in Zara, or some pickle dicked poindexter was gonna figure out there was a hell a lot more of them then there was of the ferret.
Unfortunately, the villagers were taking too long learning to count and Zara had gotten a little frisky with one of the O’rien girls trying to draw from the well. Told her that she could get some water if she did him some favors. What kind of sheriff would Don be if he didn’t do something about that? Mostly, the kind that might get strung up himself if he didn’t get off his ass and do something about it.
Zara was called in, they exchanged pleasantries, and now he was dead on his office floor. Dying. Slowly and endlessly dying with the bolt wound still sizzling in his chest. How was he still alive? “Well shit, If I had known you could take a bullet so well, I might’ve deputized you just to be a good meat shield come any mutant attacks or bandit raids,” Don taunted, chuckling at his own joke. No, he’d wasted that opportunity with his own gun and now he just got to watch what hardly remained slowly pass on his sheet metal floors.
Actually, it was annoying him: the gurgling sound coming from his throat or chest hole or what the fuck ever.
Don sped him along smoothly by stomping the ferret’s short snout a couple times until the underside of his boot was snot and brains. He didn’t feel too bad about Zara. Not quite nearly as bad as he felt about the blackened ring now etched into the wood of his front door. The plasma bolt didn’t go clear through, but had left an unsightly looking dimple deep in the center. Finding one without scorch marks would take forever in the thermonuclear wastelands,
“Aye, Kale. This is the sheriff. Over,” Don said into his walkie, opening up his front door for better reception. He brandished his cowboy hat, keeping his eyes shaded from the harsh desert sun.
Stepping out into the wasteland, he stared down at his little village resting underneath the hill his office was situated. Zara’s silver cigarette case was in his paws, Don closing it up after taking out a nicely rolled smoke and plopping it in his muzzle. Resting it between his lips, he snapped a matchstick between his fingers and drew the flame up to the end. The tobacco’s strong burning scent flooded his vulpine senses, but it was better than smelling the shithole he lived in.
Some clicks from his walkie talkie before a chipper voice chimed, “Roger roger! Just making my rounds along the border. What can I do, Sheriff? Over.”
Don’s nose scrunched up at that. “Did you forget who wears the hat and badge? When I say I don’t need you patrolling the borders, I mean I never need you patrolling the borders. Don’t think I don’t know you ain’t just in the bushes, getting paid to pump out a quick one, Over” he growled annoyed. Out in the distance, he could make a plume of dust kicking up just outside the settlement. A low rumble could be heard approaching.
The radio was silent, he could picture the yellow lab buckling up his pants right at that given moment before finally replying. “I wasn’t doing nothin. Headin’ back now.” There was a pause before the radio clicked again. "Um, over."
The fox squinted, trying to make the figure heading towards town. It was big, that was for sure, but it didn’t look like any bandit crew or some twenty foot large eldritch horror coming his way. It was moving slow and steady, possibly a trading caravan looking to establish new routes or make a pit stop before heading to a coastal settlement. No matter what, it was going to be his problem.
“Hey, shit-for-brains. I got Zara’s corpse getting cold in my office. Come fetch the coroner and help drag him out,” Don said, licking his lips as he tried to get a good feel on the situation approaching. When he couldn’t make sense of the travellers, he pulled the walkie to his muzzle and said coolly, “We got company showing up from the east. I’mma greet them coming in, but if you hear any shooting, you get my rifle and snipe some heads from the hill. Over.”
"Take em clean off, sir. Over," Kale replied, no doubtedly finished impregnating the high grass.
Walking into town, Don was greeted with the utmost respect. Everyone surely heard the exchange, knowing full well that the sheriff had taken care of the Zara problem. Hats were tipped towards him, small nods from the meek misses, grateful not to worry about the scumbag anymore. He'd had been more kindly had he not thought everyone were cowards in this little settlement.
No, they needed Don. Even Kale, as sure shot as he was, wouldn't be able to make such a quick and final decision like that. They were weak out here, putting the responsibility of protection on him. Heck, he didn't even want the position. After Don gunned down a few rowdy feral boars tormenting the town, they just strolled up to him with a hat and badge. Everyone around him just wanted to live what puny lives they could in this war ruined world
Which is why it made his blood run cold seeing the wolf driving up in his rigged pickup.
He could make his facial features out from the edge of the dusty shacks at the town's end. The wolf's gruff muzzle was fixed in an awful glower. A notch was missing from his ear and a scar lined ugly over one of his eyes. There was no one with him, and he didn't have any guns aimed toward the fox. Just that stare. It wasn’t the townfolk’s dopey simple life thousand-yard one he was all too familiar with, but a scowl aimed directly at the fox.
Don stepped to the side, stomping on his finished cigarette. He listened to hurried footsteps skitter off inside surrounding huts as the truck approached. Behind it was a storage container, at least from what Don could make of it. A sheet was roped over, just tight enough to hide the contents while allowing air to flutter the bottom in ripples.
"Howdy," Don said, tipping his hat, but not smiling. He kept his duster over himself, not needing to flash steel just yet. At the same time, he pushed out his chest and made sure he could see the badge he wore. If this wolf came to cause trouble, it would be apparent who he would have to go through.
The wolf hand cranked the window down, leaning his muzzle out as he looked him over suspiciously. "Wares and supplies?"
Straight to the point.
"Davie's. Big sign over the awning. We're looking for salt, ammo, hide, wood—"
The wolf didn't let him finish, hitting the gas and continuing with a roll in his eyes. The storefront/bar/town hall wasn't a far trip ahead, so Don followed along the tire tracks. He didn't need anyone to show him any courtesy. If the wolf was gonna be a dickhead, it'd just make it hard for him to bargain for what he wanted.
Still, if he had any salt on him, or even better, something sweet like sugar, Don wanted first dibs. Townsfolk knew to let the sheriff make his purchases first and then they can haggle over the rest. When he walked up to the parked truck, the wolf was already out greeting the German shepherd shopkeep with a wide lupine smile. "Howdy partner. I'm Vin. Is a pleasure to meet you," the wolf said, voice high pitched and ears perked.
"Howdy-do to you," the dog said with a tea kettle whistle in words. "I'm Davie and this here is our little settlement," he said, as polite as ever. He swung his arm behind him, pointing towards the sign proudly. “This is our little trade hub right here. Anything you need, I’ll be able to help you find it.”
The wolf stepped over, reaching both paws in and giving him a brisk handshake. "Why the pleasure is all mine. What a quaint establishment you’re sporting. Even got a sign and all. Lovely." When he spoke, it was with honey and kindness. A saccharine smile over his toothy muzzle. Not a hint of the disdain Don had been given a second ago.
What the ever-loving fuck?
The wolf kept his head bowed, nodding as he pulled back his paws sheepishly. Don had thought it might be some act or something, but he could tell a genuine salesman when he met one and this wolf was definitely the sort. Vin parted from him, leaving Davie rather impressed by his mannerisms. Why, he’d never seen the german shepard so giddy, like that wolf had just given him the wettest blowie anyone’d ever received. 
As Vin pulled around to the back of the cart, he looked up and met Don's eyes. Again, his muzzle twisted in a snarl. His brow furrowed, glower stare and lips pulling back enough to show some fang. At the sound of Davie approaching behind him though, he forced his obvious distaste of Don down into something more palatable.
"I see you've met our sheriff," Davie said, clapping his paws together. "This nice young man wants to trade some goods along our route."
That made the wolf smile a wicked grin as he leaned over and tugged at the rope wrapped around his tow. "Well, I didn't say goods. I offer...services."
He pulled back the sheet, yanking it off to reveal a rusted cage underneath. Inside was filled with whimpering whining foxes huddled in fear. Even more shocking was the bareness all the males had, sans thick steel collars covering their necks. Most coward, shielding themselves as best they could from the harsh sunlight. Others seemed eccentric to be revealed so nude.
There were six reds, two platinums, and four arctics that looked similar enough to have been brothers. Most of them had paws against one another, too packed to keep to themselves. One of the arctic foxes was full staffed and dripping pre while stroking at his meat. Half of the reds had their asses against the cage, spreading their eager holes and moaning out needily. The rest were shrivelled in the center, trying to avoid any attention.
But attention, they were given.
Not only was Don staring slack jawed at them, but half of the village had come out of their homes to gawk at the sight. Tenun, a hearty looking Rhino blacksmith was already bulging in his pants at the foxes. Well, he was the only one making it look so obvious. Other men circled, trying to keep the lust out of their eyes. Davies especially, an inkling of sweat running down his forehead while he trying to keep his muzzle towards Don. Trying, but not doing a very good job.
At that time, Don felt it right to step in and pull his duster back. The G99 revolver's hilt was obvious to anyone with an eye, and the wolf noticed it immediately. Not wanting to escalate things too quickly though, the fox kept his voice low and calm as he spoke, "Now we here are don't follow the slave trade out east. If you looking to sell, we ain't buying any free folk."
Vin smirked at that, not giving the situation the seriousness it deserved, but answered all the same, "Like I said, I don't offer goods. I offer services. I trade some of my foxes' time in exchange for water, containers, and such."
Not liking the wolf's flippant attitude, Don further explained, "And we don't give up our own here. If you're looking to make any purchases, you'll be forced to go through me."
This time Vin's stare looked more serious and he stepped a foot towards Don. The wolf opened up his black leather jacket, revealing some pre-war magnum to him. Keeping control of his voice though, he responded, "I never bought anyone. I rounded up my cattle honestly and fairly. Each of these boys gave themselves up freely and I don't like getting treated like I'm a thief."
Don looked over the foxes. They shirked away from his glare, all turning their heads in similar shame that spoke some truth to the wolf's words. None of them raised a voice of protest. Some even turned their attention to the other men walking towards the cage while most just kept their gaze downward. The arctic stroking himself though looked directly at Don, an unabashed smile on his face.
He licked over his chops, eyes turning downward towards Don's crotch. His nostrils flared, trying to read the scent coming off of the sheriff. Fuck, his nose must've been good though because he gave another squeeze of his engorged bulb. Pre dribbled down the front of his cock, leaving a stringy drop to hit the floor of the cage, and Don had no doubt that this slave was aware of his own sheath twitching underneath his pants.
"Now, if it'd be alright with the sheriff here," Vin paused, arms outstretched for everyone. "I'd like to start getting some business going."
Don shifted, noticing Tenun give a half-step forward. Sure, if he said that there'd be no sex trade here, people would listen. The hat and badge meant he made the rules, and the end of his G99 enforced them. But that'd be something they'd all remember and something that might bite him in the ass if another sex slaver came by and he wanted to do business. Truth be told, he just didn't like Vin and the way he was treating him. He couldn't give a single runny fuck about the well-being of any of those boys caged.
"You keep your word, you hold up all your bargains, and you don't cause me any trouble, then make yourself comfortable," Don said, folding his duster in. Vin shrugged his shoulders, his jacket closing and his attention turning towards Davie.
"Please, come in. We'll figure out some system that works for all of us," the German shepherd said, paw patting Vin's back as he led him inside. 
Don let the two go, turning to face the rest of the crowd that gathered. Tenun snorted loudly, hot rancid breath mixing with his thick musty arousal stinking up the whole place as he ambled towards the store front. None of the other men made to do the same, smart enough to know the fox wasn't happy about this dealing. They'd surely sneak inside when the sheriff wasn't so present.
"Psst."
Don turned sideways to the cage. The two reds were presenting their ass in the direction of the rhino, following him as he walked past the cage. The arctic fox, however, was still angling his attention toward Don, stroking himself more fully and whimpering loudly. He was tall for a fox, a good foot more than he was, but it hardly felt like it. With the collar, his lean build, and the obvious neediness of his being, he felt so much smaller to him.
Don walked to the edge of the cage, stepping up close and peering over all of them. The few that weren't actively trying to sell themselves were sitting on their asses in the center. They covered themselves up as best as they could, one of the arctic foxes crying with his muzzle tucked between his legs. With his paws wrapped around his knees, he could clearly see the fox's sheath...and lack of balls.
"Don't worry about him," the horny arctic said, interrupting Don's thoughts. "He's better off that way." Pants were between every single word he spoke. Spit dangled off his tongue and cheek, but he didn't bother wiping any of it off. This slut was debasing himself in every way, pressing his chest against the bars as he tried to get to Don. A hunger in his eyes matched the ferocity of his seductive growl. "You'd be better off in here."
Don wrinkled his muzzle at that, lifting his paw and smacking the side with his knuckles. The arctic fox backed away, smile still clinging to his face. All of them moved with him, scooching in fear like the grubby weaklings they were. He should feel some pity for them if he didn't hate seeing them as much as he did. Walking away, he tried to push them as far from his mind as he could.
He couldn't push them out far. Up in his office, he'd peer down out the window at the cage. Vin would take one of the foxes out and pass them to one of the villagers. A lot of the foxes went willing, hopping out of the cage and allowing themselves to be leashed and handed over. One of the arctics, the gelding he assumed, was dragged out harshly. A few corrective slaps later, he was exchanged to a lynx farmer for a sack of potatoes.
Who-wee, those foxes went cheap. Could use a muzzle like that.
Don thought that while pawing at his crotch. Sure, if he really wanted to get some head, he could just call in Kale and order him around. The labrador wasn't always willing though, needing to be wrestled and coaxed into putting out, and his head was shitty at best. He'd thought about just catching him when he was jerking off in the brush, pinning him from behind and taking his backside, but he'd much rather someone would handle him like that.
He imagined that arctic fox, riding all seven inches he presented so eagerly. Or maybe he would just suck on him as he beat himself off. All the things he could do with him or one of the others if he could just rent them for an hour or two. Without even realizing, he'd popped open his pants and had his cock in his paws. His knot was full and pre was dripping down onto the floor.
Fuck.
Don was getting himself close and he didn't wanna waste a load against the wall. Nothing was happening and he didn't need to be doing anything at the moment. It'd been months since he needed to blast a few holes in some bandits and most of the creatures kept their distance from the settlement. Making up his mind, he stuffed his hard cock back into his pants and made himself presentable.
Finding the wolf took a minute, not being by the cage or the store. Instead, he was out trading labor with a raccoon twining rope. They'd been working rather giddily, in the middle of a chat as they busied themselves. Before Don could join in a hearty laugh shared between the two, Vin went silent. HIs muzzle closed abruptly as he gave the approaching fox a stern look.
Straight to business.
"I want the arctic fox and one of the platinums for the night," Don said, tossing Zara's silver cigarette case over to him.
Vin just barely caught it, fumbling the rope in his paw. The raccoon, Tucker or something, ducked his head and parted to give them space to discuss. When they were alone, the wolf inspected the case, flipping it open to see the five rolled sticks in it.
"You can keep the cigarettes too, if you let me go rough with them," Don said with a snicker.
The wolf snorted, closing the case and turning it around. "Well, fuck. I could've really used this, but no deal."
Don gasped as the case was tossed back to him, letting it hit him square in the chest. With a thumb, it bounced against his duster before tumbling into the dirt. He looked down at it, thinking it was well worth the trade, especially more valuable than a sack of potatoes.
"The fuck?" Don cursed, spitting onto the ground next to it. "Fine, I'll just take one for the night. Keeping the cigarettes though."
"You ain't taking any of them for no matter how long," Vin disagreed, going back to twining as if he wasn't in the middle of a conversation.
Don was mad, opening up his duster and putting his paws on his hips. "Why the fuck not?"
The wolf's gun was sitting holstered next to him, but he didn't look to reach for it. Without even acknowledging Don anymore, he said dismissively, "I don't sell to product."
Ohh, them were fighting words if he ever heard ‘em in his life. Don stomped his foot onto the ground, boot kicking up dust as he fumed. He was ready to tell the wolf to grab his piece and meet him in the town square so he could blow off the wolf's other ear. No one was faster than him at the draw, but he wanted an honest fight.
"I ain't your product, partner. I'm the sheriff of this bumfuck town and I'll take what I want if I have to," Don threatened, paws itching to grab his gun.
The wolf's hackles raised as did he himself. Now Vin was looking at him and their size difference was becoming more apparent. Don was short, even as foxes went. At his 5'6 though, he was feeling particularly small underneath the full height of the wolf. He must've been 6'2 or '3 with the way that he was standing. Again not reaching for his gun, he just stepped and looked down at the fox.
"I. Don't. Sell. To. Product," he repeated, punctuating that last bit by sticking a finger to him.
Don’s gun was raised in a flash, pointed squarely at the wolf's gut. His finger wasn't on the trigger though, knowing he wasn't gonna shoot if he didn't have to. Vin didn't flinch the slightest. He just took another step forward and put his fingers in his pants. Without an ounce of fear, he continued until the tip of the gun was right against his stomach.
And oh, how it made him shiver.
Keeping his glare on him, Don holstered his pistol and took a step back. He didn't want the wolf to know how much he got him going. He spit on the ground once more, turning away and walking towards his office back up the hill. Before he could get too far, the wolf whistled and shouted, "Hey." Don turned back just in time to catch the silver case being tossed back at him. He snatched it out of the air. "You have a good day now, sheriff," Vin said, smug smile on his face.
Don stormed off spewing curses left and right. He walked straight up the hill, stepping past his office door towards the back. As soon as he turned the corner, he drew his revolver and unloaded the gun into a target situated out back. Smoke rose from the six new holes filling the center.
Should've blasted him.
He definitely could have. If the stupid wolf would have just reached for his fucking gun, he could've turned him into swiss cheese. No, he had to deny him that pleasure and now he was selling those foxes left and right to anyone with a libido. Anyone but him.
All through the night, Don had thoughts about the slaves. He called in Kale from patrols and had the dog give him a blowy. The deputy didn't want to, but a backhand to his muzzle taught him different. Fog steamed against the window as he stared down below, watching the wolf barter off foxes in exchange for supplies and the empty shack formerly belonging to Zara. He breathed in and out of his nose loudly as he facefucked Kale, holding the canine’s ears for handles. The taste of blood filled his maw as he ground down his inner lip, imagining he was sinking his fangs into the wolf’s throat. As soon as Don came, he dismissed Kale before even zipping up his pants.
"Can you at least jerk me off or something?" Kale whined, still on his knees wiping off his chin.
Don didn't take his eyes away from the window, shaft still rock hard. Even spent, his dick twitched in his anger, needing more than what Kale could provide. "I said, go," he repeated himself, spitting absently without thinking of the poor dog underneath him. With a fresh glob of mucus clinging to his nose, Kale stormed out and slammed the door behind him.
Several times, Don pulled himself out of his bed to grab his gun. He couldn't sleep with the cravings on his mind. The town below was lively, everyone taking to the wolf pretty well. They must've been exchanging stories all through the night, liquoring up Vin good as he passed around his foxes. Don wished he could just go down there and blow his brains out, but now the wolf was settled in. If he made any moves of aggression, the town folks might have something to say about it.
The next day passed by quick. Kale had been avoiding him, actually keeping himself busy with real work. If he wasn't working, Don would surely had called him aside for another good hate fuck. Actually, it seemed like most of the town was making an effort to stay out of the sheriff's way.
By the third night, it looked like Vin wasn't going to be leaving anywhere soon. He'd made a spot for himself, helping out with chores and selling his foxes on the side. People greeted him friendly, tipping their hats and making inside jokes already. All the while, Don was just getting more and more aggravated.
"Open up," Don called as he beat his fist against the door.
It wasn't too late into the night, the sun's orange hue still leaving a rising glow above the hills. No one had been out though, knowing full well the dangers of walking while dark in the wastelands. Don couldn't give a shit. An inch of rum gave him the resolve to finish what he had started. He wanted to fuck something and if a Nightcrawler or Phantom Hunter snuck up on him, he’d fuck that too.
The door swung open, the wolf down to his trousers with a scowl on his muzzle. "The fuck you hollering about, sheriff?"
Don hated the way he said that last word sarcastically. It was patronizing, and he deserved more respect than that. "Fuck you. You know what I want."
The wolf’s nose wrinkled. Don’s hot alcohol stenched breath making the Vin’s whiskers stretch out straight. "And I told you I don't sell to product," he reminded him, looking ready to close the door.
"Get your gun. We're doing this," Don said, throwing open his jacket.
“You’re drunk, sher—”
The fox interrupted with a growl, “Don’t you call me that one more fuckin’ time. Your gun. Get it.”
Vin rolled his eyes. He leaned against the wood seal of his door with a half-smile growing on his face. With the shake of his head, he chuckled, "Don't waste product neither."
Don threw his head back and let out a roar into the night, surely loud enough for the whole town to hear. Fuming, he stormed around in a circle and found a metal barrel. He picked it up, the thing weighing maybe a good fifty pounds and chucked it as hard as he could into the middle of the road. His claws ached, but he was just getting himself started.
The fox came up to the wolf, wrestling with his gun belt the whole way. Curses spewed out of his muzzle in every which direction trying to undo the buckle. When he finally got it off, he threw it down to the side and tossed his hat along with it. "If you won't pickup your gun, then I'll fucking beat you square— Oof!"
If Don was any less humble, he'd say he was the fastest draw on this side of the west. Hell, he might've been the deadliest in what was left of the world. He'd taken on a dozen men at once, laying them all down deep into the dirt. Even the ferocious wasteland creatures knew not to come to his settlement. And yet, no sooner than he raised his dukes did the wolf land a punch square on the side of his lip.
Don went down, landing hard on his side clutching his face. Before he could even think to rise, a foot was placed right on his hip. It ground against him, keeping him from getting back up. The fox tried to worm away from it, but he was stomped on hard for moving. It sent sharp pains throughout his entire leg.
"Listen here, sheriff," Vin started, stomping on his leg again when he wasn't given his full attention. Don looked up, ears folded back and tail curled instinctively. "I don't mind beating some sense into you. I do it to my cattle all the time. But I want you to get it through your head: It don’t matter if you got on that stupid hat and toy fuckin’ badge. I don't sell to product and that ain't ever gonna change."
Vin lifted his foot off of him, leaving Don to just hold his hip and wriggle in pain. "You bastard," he said, spitting in his direction.
The wolf smiled at that, looking down to see a drop of saliva on his boot. He shook his head back and forth, and Don had worried that he was gonna get the shit kicked out of him some more. Instead, he moved closer to him, his boot landing next to his muzzle. Don's heart was racing and he took shaky breaths in through his nose. 
In a single move, Vin pulled his trousers open and whipped out his dick. Before Don could say anything, the wolf started urinating straight on the fox's face. It splashed loudly against his brow and snout, noisy enough that anyone listening might've known what was going on. He tried to move from the stream, but his injured leg kept him from getting far. All he could do was throw his arms up and stop the stream from hitting his eyes and nostrils any further. The fur on his muzzle was already drenched in it.
"Fuck you," Don said as the wolf flicked off the remaining drops onto his jacket.
Vin held his dick over him a second longer, waiting until Don got a good look at it before putting it away. Adding insult to injury, the wolf kicked up a little dirt to add to his fresh new coat of hot piss. It stuck to his muzzle, caking a muddy mixture on him. He turned and walked back to his house, leaving him lying on the floor.
Before he walked inside, he called back. "Well shit sheriff, if you're looking for dick so bad, you don't have to get it from any of my boys." As he stood at his door, he turned and winked. "Not when I can sell you out like the fox you are," was all he said before slamming his door shut.
It took a while for Don to get up off the ground. His hip and leg were busted bad. He practically had to hobble his way over to the well. He leaned against its stone stacked wall, pulling himself up until he could put weight on his good leg. Damn near passed out trying to draw a bucket from the bottom. When he finally managed to get it all the way up, he dumped its contents over his face and rubbed out the muddy piss.
No matter how he scrubbed though, the smell wasn't coming out.
"Master likes you."
Don spun around, reaching for his gun but nothing was there. The arctic fox was lucky he'd not remembered to pick it back up or he'd been one dead mother fucker. His fists ached for a fight though and if his leg didn't hurt as bad as it did, he'd of walked over and kicked the teeth out of the slave. That's when it occurred to him that the other was walking about freely.
"Why're you out of your cage, faggot?" Don barked that last word harshly.
The arctic fox didn’t seem phased, pointing towards the bucket, "Was just thirsty, sheriff."
Don growled and slammed his fist against the wall of the well. He fucking hated how everyone had seemed to call him sheriff like it was a joke. "I mean, why are you walking about freely?"
The arctic strolled over casually to Don, cock stirring and poking from his sheath. "There's no lock other than the ones on our collars."
Don took in a quivered breath, mostly still smelling the wolf's thick piss still sunk into his fur. He also caught the scent of the fox as well, his arousal luring him in. Even bruised and battered, he still wanted to fuck something mighty and this slave was just teasing his cock in every way. "Then why don't you just run away? All of you, especially the whiny cowering fucks."
The arctic shrugged, finishing the gap between them and resting a paw on his chest. He leaned in, breathing in fondly both Don's scent as well as the wolf's piss. It made him shudder, those claws dragging through his shirt and etching lines into his fur. When he spoke, his muzzle was curved into a lusty grin.
"It's better off in the cage. It's our purpose." It was clear to Don what he meant when he said our and it sent shivers up his spine. The arctic knew exactly how he was feeling, so he leaned in and whispered, "I told you. You'd be better off in there too."
Don reached forward and grabbed the arctic by his collar, pulling him in until their muzzles were almost touching. The slave was tall and had to slouch to be brought to eye-level. His wicked grin never left his muzzle. It just stayed put as Don growled, "Why don't I take you to my office and I'll show you where you'd be better off."
The two stared at each other for a few seconds. It didn't seem like the arctic was pondering anything in particular. This fox hadn’t just drank the kool-aid, but was the chemical plant pumping out forty-two gallon barrels of it. Nothing was going on behind those eyes. Instead, he raised his paw up slowly and calmly before grabbing hold of Don's wrist. Seemingly without effort, he began to twist and twist on the smaller fox’s grasp.
Don let out a small hiss. Maybe it was because he was tired from the fight or too distracted with sex on his mind, but he strained to keep hold on the slave's collar. His grip weakened, wavering in loud grunts, before he was forced to let go entirely. Don kept his noises to hushed cries as his wrist was continued to be turned awkwardly until it was at the edge of snapping.
With that same carelessness in his eyes, the arctic fox slave spoke softly. "Master doesn't sell to product."
Though his wrist wasn’t broken, his spirit certainly felt like it. The trip back up the hill was long and rough. It caused Don to pant, forcing him to breathe in the wolf's mark. Thick and acrid, the piss made his eyes water and nose runny. He hated it. He hated it so God damn much. He hated it because he was hard in his pants walking all the way up to his office.
Slamming the door behind him, he limped over to his desk growling. His G99 was still holstered down below outside the wolf's shack, but he didn't need it. Not when he had his rifle hanging against the wall. He took it in his paws, checking the chamber to make sure it was still loaded. The bullet inside was waiting, a large round that could go through one side of a building and come out clean the other without slowing down.
Don mumbled in pain as he propped the rifle against the window sill. Flipping open the lid on the scope, he looked down at the shack and adjusted the sight. He wasn't nearly as good of a shot as Kale, but he knew exactly where Zara's old bed was situated. Even if he didn't catch him square in the head, the bullet would blow any limb clean off and he'd bleed out soon enough.
His breath was shaky, but his paws were firm on the grip. He had to blink out sweat pouring from his forehead, but was sure he could take the shot. Sure that he could end this feud and all it would cost him was a single pane of glass as the bullet would travel through his window, put one large hole in the metal sheet roof of Zara's shed, and leave one very very very dead wolf laying cold on the bed he slept in.
Thinking about the wolf gave him pause on his decision. The way that he punched him before Don could even get into a proper fighting stance. His speed was intense, and if he missed this shot, there was no doubt Vin would have the next. There'd be no way he could lug that rifle back to his desk, reload it, and get into position before the wolf would have a bullet for him. Even in times where he was outnumbered facing certain doom, nothing left him quite as scared as the thought of Vin climbing up his hill to put the sheriff down for good.
The rifle went down onto the floor, rattling dangerously in large bounces. Thankfully, the hammer held and no shot went off, but Don didn't feel like he had much to be thankful about. He'd been utterly emasculated, both by Vin and his lowly whore. If the wolf had agreed to pick up his gun, Don would have been laid down easily. He was nothing but a petty coward upset someone better than him had put him in his place.
The next few days had passed with Don mostly laying in his bed. Kale had taken all of the responsibilities, as small as they were. Everyone in the town had been moseying about just fine without him. Even Davie stopped by to check in on him, making sure he ate and drank while wallowing in depression.
Vin seemed to have setup shop pretty well for himself. Time Don didn’t waste in bed was spent peering out his window tracking the wolf's every move. All the fox slaves were given jobs, even when it wasn't fucking. They were sent tending the fields, running water, and all sorts of menial work only to be pulled away from their tasks whenever Tanun, Davie, Tucker, or any of the other men (and some of the women) needed to blow off some steam.
A week after Vin had shown up, Don was ready to leave his hut. His leg still ached, but he knew well enough nothing was broken. The first thing he did was head to the communal shower, trying his best to clean himself up. The thick lupine mark clung even after the shower, though it had been muted somewhat. It had become one of the things he'd slowly come accustomed to, though it still made his nose twitch.
When he felt presentable enough, he strolled over to Zara's, well, now firmly Vin's hut and knocked on the door softly. Though it was midday, he'd seen the wolf go inside. There was a shuffling, a sharp yipe, and then the sound of footsteps approaching the door. Vin was down to just his boxers with a cool look about himself.
"Sheriff."
Don bit his lip, that same sting pinching him rough as the first time he'd been mockingly called that. He kept his words in his throat though as he straightened himself out. Part of him came here to tell the wolf that if he was sticking around, he'd better start respecting his authority. Seeing him half naked, his muscles, scars, and masculinity on display, told him what he always knew.
He had no authority here.
"G-g-good after—" Don choked on his words, eyes tracing about the wolf's arms and pecs. He clapped his muzzle shut, thinking before coughing out, "Vin," in a polite greeting.
The bigger man snorted at that, his muzzle curving to a grin as he turned to open his hut for him. Don almost missed the small platinum fox rubbing his reddened nose and trying to wipe away a tear. It was one of the geldings, knowing just by his size, though he tried to cover his crotch with his bushy tail. 
"Come to pick up your stuff?" Vin asked as he ambled over towards an end table. He opened it, shuffling things inside the top drawer. Don stepped through the doorway, slightly unsure if he was allowed in, but drawn closer anyways. When the wolf turned around, he had the gun holster and hat in his paws.
Don looked down at them, and they felt foreign to him.
"Thanks but, I didn't come here for those—"
A whistle cut him short, Don noticing the platinum getting to his feet. He was fast, moving along Don's side obediently. Maybe he was just startled by the sound, but Don noticed that his own back had arched similarly to the other fox's as they stood side by side. It felt natural to be lined up with his silver furred cousin.
"You," Vin pointing to the platinum and then towards the door. "Go out and help Davie clean up his shop. He's a good dog, so make sure you dust it well, lazy fuck."
The fox nodded twice, turning around and skittering out the door. Now Vin's eyes were on him, pressing him into the ground. Don couldn't feel his legs, but they were surely shaking underneath him. He waited though, letting him feast with his eyes and not speaking a word until the wolf spoke.
"Then why did you come here?" Vin asked in a low growl.
Don shuddered, thinking hard. His lips were quivering as he searched his mind for an answer and when it didn't come, he whispered, "I don't know."
Vin circled him, inspecting the fox up and down as he spoke, "Course you don't. You haven't had it explained to you yet." His words weren't harsh. Instead, they were almost forgiving. "You've known something has been wrong all your life, even if you couldn't quite put your finger on it."
Don gulped, not knowing if the words were true but nodding his head anyways. He needed something now, and it had to get taken care of fast. His sheath stirred in his pants, but that was only part of the itch. With the big wolf next to him, he could tell that Vin had something to offer him.
"You've always thought you were a free man. That you had power of agency and control. But that never felt good. All those decision you had to make on your own were just burdens weighing your little mind," he continued. As he did, he reached a paw up and placed it on Don's head, shaking it softly.
"You hate having to be in charge," Vin growled. The fox did as well, though it wasn't at him. He did hate having to make all those decisions on his own.
"You hate having to wake up and take care of these cowardly villagers every day," he further punctuated and the words began to make sense.
"All your possessions don't feel right like the clothes on your back." Vin moved his paw down the side of his muzzle, stroking his cheek like a cub. And Don felt like one, so small and fragile under the wolf's paw. His clothes felt heavy on him and they grew uncomfortable against his fur.
Vin slipped his paw underneath the fox's shirt, a claw hanging against the neck. Don gasped as he dragged down to each and every button, popping them off one by one. They scattered against the floor, ruining the shirt. Clothes were hard to come by and he should be pissed, but it felt like a relief as his chest was exposed.
Vin pulled off the rest of the shirt and tossed it away. Next he started with his pants, again, ripping off the button so that the clothes were worthless. Don didn't lift a finger, allowing his pants to be yanked off him until he was just in his boxers. To no surprise, Vin didn't take them off with care either.
"You hate having to cover yourself up like you do. You hate it cause you know it's as ridiculous as dressing a shovel or hoe. It's embarrassing you've been wearing them so long and now they need to come off," Vin said with a glare furrowing his brow.
Don thought to protest, fighting to hold onto his self-identity. It was ripped from him though as the boxers were grabbed and pulled off of him. It hurt and the fox let out a whine as they started to tear from the tug. Don put a paw right on his stomach and pulled back hard until the cloth gave way.
His boxers were shredded right off of him and now he stood completely nude in front of the bigger man. Like his shirt and pants though, it felt comforting when they were finally stripped from him. It felt as natural as the air around him. In it, he felt some peace.
"There, looking closer to what a fox oughta look like," Vin said, reaching down and fondling his sheath and balls.
Any sense of calm was starting to bleed away as he realized what the wolf was doing. Vin kneeled, cupping the fox's balls and rolling them around in his fingers. He tugged at his sheath, taking a peak around his fully erect cock. He nodded his head and Don knew right there that he was inspecting him.
Like cattle.
"Bigger than I'd like, but we can take care of that," Don said as he finished checking out his crotch.
What the fuck did that mean? Don still couldn't feel his legs, but he knew he should leave. He should grab his hips one by one and shuffle himself out if he had to. Did he drink something that was paralyzing him? Had the wolf slipped a dart in him when he wasn't looking? Everything in his brain was telling him to get the fuck out, but he just couldn't move.
No.
There was no drug doing this. He was frozen because he knew to some extent everything the wolf had said was right. All the words just made sense and he had bought full into it. This was his place. This was how he was supposed to be. This was him finally accepting what he knew in his heart he really wanted, and though he hated it, he craved to pass on his freewill like those other boys had done before him.
"Haha, I know that look, sheriff," Vin said with a chuckle. He gazed into him, sureness on his muzzle. His paws lingered on Don's cock a little long, finger tracing up the shaft. It coaxed a bead from the tip which the wolf smeared in circles over his head.
Don cooed, his entire body trembling now. Hesitantly, his maw slacked open, words dangling on the tip of his tongue. They hung like the second drop of pre did over his pointed tip. Before he could get a word out, the wolf had put that same finger to his muzzle and shushed him.
"The first thing you need is to start fulfilling your purpose," Vin said, his voice growing slightly high pitched in his giddiness. The tone shift stuttered Don, his head cocking in confusion. Vin didn't give him time to think about it before he trounced to the bed and flopped on it.
With his butt firmly in place on the mattress, he lifted one bare paw up for Don to see. "Lick."
Now, Don had never been into feet that much. That was Tanun's thing, if all the rumors were true. That rhino no doubt had those poor fox boys licking up and down his rugged skin until he showered them in a spray of his thick musky cum. Still, the wolf was expecting him to do as he was told and Don didn't have a place to argue.
He just wandered up slow, kneeling at the side of his bed. Just as he grabbed the wolf's ankle and brought it up to his nose, he caught the thick scent hanging off of them. It was pungent, heavy enough to wrinkle the entire fox's snout. Don pulled back slightly, trying to get a whiff of fresh air before he'd continue.
Right when he brought his muzzle forward to do as he was told, the wolf's foot jutted forward sharp and fast. It knocked Don right on the nose, scrunching up his snout. He yiped the same high pitched yipe heard before Vin had opened the door. Before he could think to complain, the wolf was already speaking.
"Faster next time and don't give me any lip or complaints. Just do your fuckin' job," he growled as he rubbed his sole against Don's nose.
Vin was fast, sticking his tongue out with urgency. He'd not noticed how quick he was to follow orders, just did what he was told. It was revolting, but he lapped long licks under the wolf's foot. His pads were rugged and callous, but he soothed his saliva as he serviced the wolf properly.
Strong coos escaped out of Vin's muzzle. He was loving every second turning the fox into his own personal footbath. His toes splayed for Don to lick between and he didn't hesitate to slide his tongue between each and every one of them. A minute in and his chin and muzzle fur was matted in a thin layer of his own spit.
Vin lifted his other foot, and Don immediately went to town on that one as well. As he kissed and pecked at the bottom of one foot, he massaged the other with his thumbs. It was humiliating how desperate he'd become to please this wolf. He wasn't even fully sure what he was supposed to get from it.
It did feel a little calming to give himself up like this. Without his clothes, he wasn't sure exactly how he intended to get back up the hill after this was over. Maybe he could just grab his hat and wear it over his crotch. It would look stupid if anyone caught him, but he was the one that put himself in this situation.
As if Vin could sense the fox's mind wandering, he kicked his snout again. It wasn't as hard as the first time, but enough to alert him to give attention. "Good, now you've earned an award for being so obedient," he said as he placed his feet on the floor and sat up.
Don hadn't noticed it earlier, but the wolf had become fully erect now. It was huge, his ten inch shaft bobbing right in front of him. And the canid knot was still inside of his sheath, waiting to emerge in due time. He whimpered at the sight, regretting what he'd gotten himself into. There'd be no way that he could take that.
"Get!" Vin said with a snap of his fingers.
The wolf reached forward and grabbed his ear, pulling it harshly. Don squeaked and gritted his teeth, but the cock was shoved right against his muzzle. His muzzle was forcibly ground against it, the scent being driven into his fur over the subtle remains of the piss's stench. He continued to hold his entire until Don finally gave in and opened his mouth.
Closing his eyes tight, he took in the first few inches past his lips. His curious tongue made circles around the tip, eager to explore this new foreign taste. It was almost coppery in fragrance at first, but as he took more and more in, he recognized the familiar salt of sweaty flesh. Instinctively, he began to suckle down the spit and pre building in his maw.
"There we go," Vin murmured, letting his ear go loosely. His claws began to dig trenches through his headfur, and Don couldn't help but enjoy it. He let out a moan over the cock in his mouth as Vin continued to speak. "Just like that. Now you get your purpose."
Both of Don's ears remained perked as he listened and suckled. "Why'd they think they made your kind's head so small but muzzle so long?" Vin asked without expecting an answer. He just tapped against Don's skull to drive in the point.
It made his heart sink as he allowed himself to be degraded like this. Part of him wanted to protest, but he wasn't going to do that if it meant taking this magnificent cock out of his mouth. Maybe his throat was better used for chugging sperm rather than being a mouthy fuck. Was that really his own thought?
"I have to admit, sheriff, I thought you'd put up a bit more fight," Vin continued, pushing himself forward to thrust. It got in deep, the pointed crown knocking hard into the back of Don's throat. His eyes rolled back and he fought his gag reflex as hard as he could.
"Your brethren outside put up much more of a fight, but all your kind give in eventually," Vin pulled his cock back and bucked his hips again. Don's eyes watered even to leave two tears trailing down the sides of his muzzle.
"I started this business knowing what other folk were too scared to say outloud. That their fox's always looked better in chains." Vin finished that by going in harder and faster, choking the fox with his fat cock.
Don couldn't take it. He was struggling to breathe and needed to get some air. Both his paws went to the wolf's knees, trying to relieve himself but Vin pulled back on his own. His cock came out of the fox's muzzle dripping with spit and pre. Just as Don took a relieving breath, his headfur was grabbed hard.
"You're not in control," Vin shouted, shaking him by his hair harshly.
Smack!
Vin slapped Don hard enough to rattle his teeth. His head didn't go far with the wolf still holding him. A ringing in his ears made him dizzy and cross eyed, only the cock in clear vision. The entire side of his face burned like fire and he could feel blood trickling down his nostril. He could only stay still, mouth agape in his stupor.
"Do better," was all the wolf said before shoving himself back inside.
Don coughed around the cock, but hastily started sucking on it again. His head was buzzing, the strike still making him dizzy. Even through it all, he did as he was told and bobbed his muzzle harder than he had been. He sat his paws back on Vin's knees, not to push off, but to steady himself as he blew Vin with a feverish intensity.
"Oh yeah. There we go," he said, paw coming around to gently pat the fox's cheek. "I knew you had it in you, slave."
Slave. Not sheriff and not said flippantly or with any sense of humor. It was what he was. He was a fox slave, being praised for what he did best. What he was made to do with a muzzle so long and a head so small. In it, there was a relief that washed over his soul like cool water.
Vin grabbed at the fox's ear again, pulling him off of his cock. Don's lips were wrapped around it the entire way out, getting sloppy pop as it freed from his maw. He stared at it in awe, wanting to worship it more but knowing better than to go back in. Instead, he just waited for another order like a proper slave would.
Vin stood to his feet before patting the bed. "Up on all fours," he said dryly.
Don was quick, crawling up on the bed and turning his head to follow the wolf. He was walking towards the same end drawer he'd grabbed his hat and gun holster from. Vin moved so casual, almost business like as he shuffled through items. When he found what he was looking for, he walked back just as coolly and tossed it on the bed in front of him.
A collar, exactly the same as the ones the other foxes had worn, landed just below his muzzle. "Not yet," Vin ordered as if Don was going to leap to put it on himself. Well shit, he must've been a mind reader, because that was exactly what he might've done if the wolf hadn't stopped him.
He was too focused on the collar, not noticing Vin leaping behind him. With a hurmph and a growl, Don was pinned hard with the wolf's weight pressed on his back. He screeched and squirmed underneath, struggling to keep himself up on his knees. His heart was racing and he felt genuine terror knowing what was coming back.
"You might be acting like a good slave, but you're not broken in just yet," Vin growled, his hips rocking against Don's ass. "Right now you're still just a needy fuck."
"Please," Don cried out, still fighting against the wolf's hold.
A fist hit him hard against the side of his head, another blow that sent his eyes whirling behind his eyelids. Vin was saying something to him, but he couldn't make it out clearly. His thoughts were still too much his own to properly listen when being talked to.
Don didn't think he could take that cock pressing up against his backside. He didn't want to anymore, just hoping to escape now. How'd he let things get this far? His busted leg screamed in agony as he was forced into the mattress beneath him. If he could only find some footing, he might be able to get out from under.
"...and that's why you don't deserve that collar yet, you mouthy fuck. You don't get it," Vin's words seemed distant, but he began to make out the tail end of his speech clear enough.
Don felt unsure about what he heard. Part of him screamed to run, but knew full well he couldn't. Vin was too big, too strong, too fast to let him get away now. He felt so small and fragile, weak and cowardly, dumb enough to let himself get put in this mess and submissive enough to go along with it the entire way. This was his place.
A paw grabbed his tail just as he tried to curl in over his crack. It was pulled up hard, his ass lifting with it. The hot wolf rod pressed against his tailhole, threatening to ruin him. Don gulped in several breaths, thought to speak up again, but was too afraid to take another hit like the last.
"Now, it's time to break in the merchandise," Vin said, an evilness dripping from his words like the spit splattering between the fox's ears.
It came fast, the lupine cock shoving through his sphincter in one strong thrust. Don screamed in pain, too much too fast for him to take comfortably. He wriggled underneath, trying to pull it out but there was nowhere to go. Vin had just pushed more of his weight onto the fox, keeping him inside of his burning opening. All he could do was dig his claws into the mattress.
Vin began to thrust his hips into him, his lupine shaft sinking into the fox's rectum. He could feel his cock throbbing inside, dumping pre into his guts. It's fat crown would hilt against his prostate before dragging his sphincter on its way out. Back and forth, Vin would rock into him as Don was fucked into submission.
A paw fiddled underneath him, grabbing hold of Don's retreating shaft. "Nuh uh. You're gonna learn to like this," Vin growled as he began to pump his cock.
The worst part of it all was despite the pain and degradation, his cock easily betrayed him. Quickly, he grew hard again. Vin was timing his humping to the strokes along his shaft. Pre slicked up the wolf's paws good only after a minute of jerking him, and soon he was gripping on the vulpine knot just as the lupine one was forcing its way inside of him. He squeezed him like his hole squeezed around Vin's.
"No, stop," Don begged, but his pleas were ignored.
Suddenly, the wolf let go of his cock and put his full body over Don. His chest was beating hard against his back. He couldn't make out who's heart was thrumming harder. Hot breath poured over his nape, sweat and spit dripping onto his fur and rolling down the sides of his neck. The wolf was getting ready to knot him, claiming him as his own.
Don heard the sound of metal and opened his eyes. With lightning fast reflexes, he reached up just in time to stop Vin. The wolf had grabbed with both paws and tried to strap the collar around his neck, but Don had stopped him just before he could. Holding himself and the wolf up with only one arm, he clutched tightly to the collar and kept it just away from its mark.
"You're gonna be mine," Vin growled as he fought against him.
All the while, the wolf didn't stop his hard fucking. All the while, Don's cock never stopped throbbing. All the while, he fought against the worm that Vin left in his head, telling him this was right. All the while, he tried his best to keep the collar from clasping around his throat.
And with a bite to the back of his neck, he was unable to hold out. The fangs sunk deep and Don released the metal from his clasp. It came up fast, slipping through his fingers and wrapping around his throat. Warm blood and spit was replaced with the icy cold steel locking shut. And with one thunderous roar, Vin pushed himself inside as hard as he could.
The knot popped inside of him, it's massive bulb splitting his ring to bury in deep. Don was nothing but screams of pain, even as he shot ropes onto the mattress. With no fight left, his arm gave way and he fell flat onto the mattress. His cock spurted hard, cum soaking into his own fur just as his insides were filled with the wolf's.
Eventually, Don's cries of pain turned into a loud sob. Tears ran down the sides of his face, matting down his cheeks and whiskers. He bawled hard into a pillow, ashamed of himself. Vin had no sympathy though, and just as he was finished cumming was he finished being tied to the lowly fox.
With some grunts and tugs, he managed to free himself from Don's wrecked hole. Cum gushed out of him, as well as what he was sure was blood. Apathetically, Vin just got off the bed and rustled around the room. He could hear him cleaning up, a towel being discarded onto the floor like he was discarded on the bed.
"The fuck are you doing, stupid fuck?" Vin asked with a growl.
Don was barely allowed time to think as Vin came around with another towel and slapped him with it. "Get your ass cleaned up and in the pin. I'm done with you."
Don yelped as he was beat with the towel. He eventually grabbed hold of it, taking it from Vin as the wolf let go. Anger enveloped everything the fox saw and he wasn't going to allow himself to be raped and then thrown in a cage like cattle. His eyes turned towards the dresser, the gun still sitting on top.
"Go ahead, sheriff," Vin said just as he caught the fox's glance. He even stepped to the side, flicking his ears towards the G99. "I think that's what your name is gonna be."
Don moved quick, running to the gun as if his life depended on it. He grabbed the hilt and in a flash, the barrel was pointing straight at the unarmed wolf. The hammer pulled back, his finger on the trigger, and in a second, he unloaded all six shots straight into the wolf's chest. At least, he was sure he was aiming at Vin's chest.
The gun quivered in Don's paw as he realized that all six shots went straight through him unharmed. No, not through him. Around him. The holes in the wall behind him were clearly visible, making the sizzling silhouette of a standing man.
Vin stepped towards him, arms out. "That collar is for more than show, you know."
Don tried to swing the butt of his revolver to come crashing against the side of the wolf's jaw, but his arm went jelly just before it connected. He tried to kick, but couldn't get his leg to lift high enough to strike him. Even thoughts of anger and hate towards Vin were slowly starting to get harder to hold onto.
Without a care, Vin reached out and took the gun from Don's paw. He leaned in and whispered, "it's better for you this way."
Don collapsed to his knees. "I—. You— This was a trick."
He reached up to try and rip off the collar but he couldn't bring himself to grab hold. His arms were frozen useless just beneath the tag. What he thought was subservience on the other fox's part was an illusion. This damn collar around his neck was fucking with his head. 
"It's some pre-war tech you got there. Not gonna be able to take off your collar, not gonna be able to hurt me or anyone else, and you're not gonna be able to get far away from where I'm standing. Keeps you nice and docile. Just how I like my foxes. So you know when I heard about a fox sheriff out here, well, that doesn’t seem very docile to me. I just had to take care of that," Vin spoke casually, putting on his pants and shirt. "Up."
Don didn't move. Even though he wouldn’t be able to hurt the wolf, nothing was compelling him to follow his orders. He reluctantly remained put, even if he did want to leave. If he was gonna move, it was gonna be by his decision. Vin had other plans though.
Pulling out his belt, the wolf stomped over quick and began slapping it against Don's muzzle. He weakly threw his arms up to defend himself, but the wolf just grabbed him and continued the beating. With no way to fight back, he got to his feet like he was ordered to.
Bruised and battered, he stood with his head down and his ears flat. "Better, now go get in the cage, you useless sack of shit," Vin finished his sentence by kicking him towards the door.
Don was hesitant walking outside naked. Some townsfolk had come out, hearing the gunshots and curious about the commotion. When they saw the fox, they grimaced and turned their heads away. Davie was outside as well, taking a step to him.
Vin followed behind, placing a paw against his back and pushing him gently forward. "Everything alright, Sheriff?" the German shepherd asked.
Don opened his muzzle, ready to explain that he had been tricked, but nothing came out. His brain fought hard to find the words, but they evaporated before they could leave his tongue. When he couldn't speak, the wolf spoke for him. "Everything is fine. Sheriff here is my newest addition. That's its new name, by the way."
Knowing there was no way out, Sheriff just hung his head shamefully. Davie eyed him up and down, and when the fox didn't argue, he just shrugged his shoulders. Any townsfolk still outside turned away, none willing to stand up to the wolf. All of his former friends abandoned him when he needed them the most and that felt the worst of everything.
"Well, I'll add Sheriff to the roster then so you can schedule it for duties," Davie said as he started back towards his shop.
"We won't be sticking around much longer. Probably only a few days more, so let people know if they want it, they gotta hurry," Vin clicked his tongue in his cheek, and Davie nodded back.
Sheriff stood in disbelief how quickly he went from being an authority figure to just another product. Vin didn't let him dwell on it long, pushing him forward until they were at the cage. He opened it up, helping him inside with a swat on his ass. Sheriff whimpered, but it was drowned out by all the other fox's whines.
He was just another cowering slave, indistinguishable from the rest of the lot. These boys that he once looked down on were all looking to him as their equal. As he scanned about the group, he noticed the arctic purposefully ignoring him. No longer was he edging his own cock for the fox now that he was collared. He had probably nutted just seeing Don walk inside Vin’s hut to give up his freedom. Sheriff knew his pleasure in this was to lure foxes in, and now that his job was done, he was disinterested.
Sheriff found a spot in the corner, not wanting to get too close to any of the rest. He kept alone for a minute, legs curled into his chest while seated on his rear. His muzzle pressed between his knees and he started a quiet sob to himself. Out of nowhere, he felt a warm tongue against his ear and looked up.
It was the gelding arctic, licking at a lump that was protruding from the side of his head. Several other foxes crawled forward, lapping at his wounds and nuzzling into him. They all took turns bathing Sheriff over with their tongues across his arms and legs. Some kisses were thrown into the mix as well. One by one, they pulled on his arms and legs, stretching him out onto the floor.
Sheriff didn't fight to free himself. Their tugs weren’t rough and they were careful to avoid the bruises Vin left him. The gelding squeezed between his legs, stuffing his muzzle right up against his crack and began licking. It was absent of any sexual moans or cries of pleasure, and instead was purely to clean and sooth his aching tailhole. Another red crawled over him, cleaning the cum in and around his sheath in long wet laps.
It was then that he realized what they were doing and what this was. The foxes were taking care of him in the way no one else would. They were performing their familial duties by showing him a compassion lacked in this bleak harsh wasteland. Even the arctic, though cold and distant to him now, did his part by bringing him a ladle from the well.
Sheriff drank the water, bottom lip quivering as he slurped from its bowl. It was he who had the power to have stopped all of this, and he had squandered it pointlessly. Instead of the foxes turning on him, they wore the same faces of shame and regret he carried. Where they could have shunned him for being the worst among them, they instead embraced him in a compassion and understanding he longed to share. And he couldn’t help but think he did belong here.
By the time they finished tending to his wounds and cleaning his sticky fur, every fox had curled around him. The desert air was cold, but in this pile, he felt a warmth he'd craved for. They were silent, no talk about their day or jokes to exchange. Instead, their touch spoke words for them, tracing circles with their claws into his and one another's fur. Sheriff rested his head on top of one of their bellies and drifted to sleep.
"Get up!" Vin growled as he rattled the G99 between the bars. Sheriff flinched seeing the barrel of the gun aimed at him, but quickly realized he wasn't using it to threaten them. Instead, he was banging his once proud pistol against the cage like ringing a bell.
Some of the foxes were already up, presenting themselves to the townsfolk. Others were sleepily crawling off the floor, helping the slower ones to their feet. The gelding remained on the seated, legs folded as always. When Sheriff stretched himself out, he scanned outside the cage.
Tenun was up bright and early, the only time he'd ever seen the rhino this close to dawn. The scent of his cock could be smelled from where he stood. Already, he was jonesing for a fox, and Vin might bleed him dry by the time he'd leave. The wolf opened the gate and pointed at the two reds.
They went without a fight, almost eager to perform their duties with the heavyset rhino. The tall arctic went next, Davie requesting him as he stood patiently outside the cage. All pretense of shuttering his sexual cravings were gone now that Don was no more. A new sheriff was in town, and he wasn't making a fuss about the trade in the slightest.
"I'll take him for the day," Kale said, pointing at Sheriff.
A meanness was in his eyes, and Vin just smiled wide at that. Zara's silver cigarette case was passed from the Labrador's paw into the wolf's. He eyed it over for a second, grinning at the way it flashed in the light. It was if he'd never seen it before, flicking open the inside and rotating it until he made a final decision.
"Well shit, Sheriff. For something like this, I'll let you keep it for the whole day and night." Vin pocketed the case before firmly shaking the dog's paw. "Heck, I don't think this is quite fair. Here."
The wolf took a few steps back, turning around and looking for a second before exclaiming, "Aha! Here, you want to take this too?"
Sheriff watched as the wolf strode towards a barrel, fetching the big brown cowboy hat that was once his. He padded back, holding it out with a sweet smile on his muzzle. Kale grabbed the rim, examining it before giving a final nod.
"I'd like that very much," he said, the dog slowly turning to the caged fox. "I think I'll make Sheriff wear it."