The Fox Among the Sheep

Chapter 3

By Silver Sheep

The blue fox named Braxton was waiting outside his bar with a security contractor. Two of his bar's windows had been smashed out. The fox was more annoyed than angry. He had to deal with this instead of spending a hot night with Wenzel Bardawulf. His dinner was sitting on the table getting cold. He felt annoyed that he let his lover down. He had waited for him and made him dinner just for him to deal with a petty crime.

Braxton knew who did this. It was a punk who had been asking him for protection money. He had sent his thugs packing with a firm fuck off message. The wannabe gangster was named Mr Donovan. He was so cheesy that he owned a pizza restaurant in the wrong part of the city. He had found that last bit of information from a ram by the name of Brenden.

Brenden had been sent to scare him. Braxton had noticed the ram tailing him. Braxton had a thing for sheep, their soft lanolin scent and gentle demeanour. It's what brought Brenden undone he hadn't expected for the fox to just walk up to him in the brightly lit subway car and strike up a conversation.

Lanolin wasn't the only scent on the ram. Braxton had smelled gun oil on his hoof hands. It didn't take long for Brenden to be lulled into a deep trance. The gentle click-clack of the railcar and Braxton's emerald gaze had the most to do with it. Brenden confessed he had been hired by Mr Donovan indirectly to flash a gun at him to get him to pay up.

Braxton had decided to keep the ram as a member of the flock. His flock of harness clad gay bartenders that is. Brenden didn't seem to mind. His life had been a hard one and having a benefactor was a first for him. It also took a creature away from Mr Donovan's gang. For all they knew he had paid off Brenden and given him a job out of fear.

He had hoped that Mr Donovan would stop at that. The broken glass on the pavement had proven the fox wrong. The police had arrived, and Braxton was about to give his statement. He wasn't going to tell any of this to the cops for one thing hypnosis was meant to be a party trick, and he had no evidence that Mr Donovan had anything to do with this. It was a still a possibility it was drunks or young hooligans.

It took a few hours to deal with the police and go through his bar to see if anything had been stolen. It didn't look like anything was stolen, and his money was looked up in the safe each night, so they can't have got to that. It turned out all that was broken was the two windows. Braxton was glad to finally be able to return home in the early morning hours.

It was dark inside his apartment when Braxton returned. He crept back to his bedroom as Wenzel must have gone to sleep. Braxton stripped down to his boxer shorts to get ready for bed. He saw Wenzel's sleeping form in his king-size bed. His wolf was so kind to him. He slowly worked himself under the covers and drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow he would have to organise repairs and formulate a plan to deal with Don pizza boy.

Braxton opened his eyes. Now his bedroom was flooded with light. He turned and noticed Wenzel wasn't beside him. He let out a soft whine he wanted some snuggle time. Looking across at his alarm clock told him why. It was 10:47 AM the wolf would be at work now. He needed the extra sleep though.

The fox needed to call some tradesmen to fix his windows before he opened tonight. Braxton got up and headed over to his kitchen table. He looked in the fridge and noticed his untouched dinner sitting on the shelf. Breakfast was leisurely. The fox reheated his meal in the microwave and made himself a coffee. He scratched his treasure trail of dark blue fur on his belly as he sipped his coffee.

What wasn't leisurely, was organising the glazier. He had phoned several while he was eating his meal and the only one who was available tomorrow. Braxton would have to close his bar tonight. He groaned as that fact became clear. He called up his workers that were on call tonight to break the news.

As Braxton started to ready himself for the day. He stepped into his bathroom and then his shower. As the water ran down body his mind turned to his next problem Mr Donovan. He needed more information his ram, Brenden had got him the address, but he didn't want to just trot in the pizza joint bright-eyed and bushy tailed. If he could help it, that is. The fox turned off the water to the shower and walked out to his mirror. He brushed across the glass with a sipe of his paw.

As Braxton dried himself off it came to him. That's it! The original extortionists. Braxton knew where one of them lived. It was that wolf thug. What was his name? Yes, it was Hubert. That's it, that’s how he would get some more current information. He had promised he'd pay Hubert a visit if any more gangster shit went down. As for the other thug working with Hubert Braxton didn't even know his name. He was some feline who booked it when he saw what he had done to Hubert. Braxton remembered where the wolf lived. He had made sure the wolf had told him while he was under his control.

A few hours later Hubert heard a knock at his apartment door. He got off the couch and walked to his door he opened it a tad to see who it was. It was a blue fox. That blue fox! The blue nightmare. He slammed the door shut and turned to run down the hall.

“Hubert opens the door,” said Braxton on the other side of the door.

The wolf stopped and turned back towards his front door. It was like his body wasn’t under his control. It was under HIS control. Hubert unlocked the door and opened it. As the blue nightmare let himself in Hubert found he was back in control of his body. Hubert backed away into his living room. He had hoped he would never have seen Braxton again, but here he was. It was just like in his nightmares.

“You’re not real! I’m going to wake up now!” stated the wolf loudly.

Unlike in his nightmares, he didn’t wake up this time. Braxton let out a snarl, flashing his fangs. It made Hubert shudder. The wolf slowly backed further away.

“Didn’t I promise you I would come back if you punks fucked with me again?” said the fox in an icy tone.

“What?!” Hubert asked as he backed himself into a wall.

“The walls come alive and grab you, trapping you there,” snarled Braxton.

To the wolf’s horror hand paws made out of the wall behind him wrapped around him and grabbed him. He was pinned to the wall. He could feel the solid grip of the wall hands gripping his body tightly. He closed his eyes tightly as he could hear the blue nightmare cross the room.

“It’s not real,” said Hubert.

“I’m very disappointed in you Hubert. I made it very clear that I wasn’t interested in insurance, especially from a pizza boy who thinks he’s a gangster,” said Braxton in a more gentle tone.

“It’s not real,” repeated Hubert.

Braxton huffed the air. “Your fear is genuine, you reek of it,” said the fox.

“I don’t work for Donovan anymore!” declared the wolf.

“Then just who smashed my bar’s windows last night, huh? Braxton snarled.

“It’s not real,” repeated Hubert yet again.

“Only my words have power here. You know about my eyes and their ability that’s why yours are closed.

“I quit, I don’t do that stuff no more.” said the wolf.

“It’s time to count you down into trance Hubert. Ten,” said Braxton.

“You were the last job. That's it,” said Hubert.

“Nine… Eight…” said Braxton. Counting down slowly.

The wolf could feel the pull, it was just like with Braxton’s eyes. It made him thrash in his bonds. The wall hand paws holding him had no give. He was suck.

“You can feel it can’t you? Seven,” said Braxton.

“It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me please don’t take my mind,” Hubert begged.

“I’m not going to take your mind only mould it like putty in my paws. Six,” said Braxton.

The wolf felt a weight on his mind it was getting heavier with each number the blue nightmare counted down. He didn’t know what to say get him to stop.

“I’m sorry I tried to extort you. I was doing what Mr Donovan said,” Hubert pleaded.

“It’s too late for that I gave you a chance now it’s time for some spring cleaning in your weak mind. Five,” said Braxton, the anger gone from his voice.

Hubert felt his thoughts slowing down. He opened his mouth to speak but felt Braxton place a finger over his mouth.

“Shh... Don’t try to speak. It’s going to be alright. I’m just going to make a few changes, but first I need those pesky thoughts out of the way. Four,” said Braxton.

No, no no. Hubert was slipping the blue nightmare had come for him. If only he could fight. It was so heavy, too heavy.

“Oh, Hubert just let those thoughts drip away. It’s much better this way. Three,” cooed the blue fox.

Hubert was beyond speaking now. The fear was slipping away as were his thoughts. It was getting harder to remember why he was afraid.

“You’re so close darling, close to total surrender. Two,” said Braxton.

Hubert slowly slid down the wall. The imaginary bonds were forgotten as were most of his thoughts. Only a niggle of doubt remained. One that he should fight and not give in.

“It’s going to be okay. You will enjoy being brainwashed. I make it a gratifying process for my thralls. One… Zero,” said Braxton.

Sometime later Braxton looked down at the enthralled wolf. He was sitting on his knees with his arm down by his side. His eyes open by unforced his tongue lolling out his muzzle. The fox’s muzzle bore a frown. Hubert had been telling the truth after all. The poor wolf was terrified of him the memories of their first encounter would sometimes revisit Hubert of a night. He had gone too far and would have to set things right.

A few moments later Hubert opened his eyes and saw Braxton standing over him. The wolf’s muzzle curled into a grin as he stood up. The wolf knew deep down that the fox was his friend. He had beautiful green eyes that put him in the most delicious of trances. It was good to be hypnotised and let Braxton make a few positive changes in his mind.

“I wasn’t the best person,” blurted Hubert.

“I’m sorry. I only wanted to scare you and your ex-boss away not give you nightmares,” said Braxton. As Braxton spoke, he looked at the floor before turning his gaze upwards.

“I remember being afraid but the emotion has been taken away, but you didn’t erase the memories. Why?” asked Hubert.

“You had kept your side of the bargain. I don’t want to be feared… at least not all the time. I ended up only putting a fun little trigger in your mind,” said Braxton a small smile creeping on his muzzle.

“What’s a trigger?” asked Hubert.

“I’m sure you’ll find out. You’re such a good boy,” said Braxton.

A boiling lust erupted in his loins. He knew it was Braxton’s gift, so he didn’t fight the bubbling orgasm as it built. He let out a pleasured cry as he creamed his pants. He was made helpless by his release for a few moments. Standing there as rapture washed over him.

“I know you’re a straight guy, but there’s nothing wrong with enjoying my delightful trigger. I shouldn't have been so hard on you. I made a mistake instilling too much fear,” said Braxton.

Hubert could only gasp and sputter. Still recovering from the sudden release.

“Listen, I want to make up for those nightmares. I’ve placed my business card with my personal number on your coffee table. So feel free to give me a call when you want to feel like a good boy again,” explained Braxton.

Braxton left the room and let himself out of Hubert’s apartment. All the while another thunderous orgasm overtook Hubert’s body. It was up to the wolf if he took up Braxton’s offer of an instant orgasm on demand. Braxton had a pizza date with Mr Donovan.

A little while later in the wrong part of town, Braxton stood loitering across the street from a pizza restaurant. The Pizza place was named The Pizza Connection. In the window was a neon sign of a slice of pizza. Braxton was having second thoughts about this approach. This Mr Donovan was a criminal, Braxton didn't run in those circles. He dealt with unruly types in his bar from time to time but not gangsters.

Logically they wouldn't murder him for not paying protection money. They were in crime to make money, and a body would put heat on their criminal enterprise. Still, the Mafia movies played in the fox's head. Braxton had to nip this pizza boy in the bud. He knew if you gave into bullies they only took it as a sign of weakness. He remembered from his youth a time when a boy wanted to fight him.

At first, Braxton backed down and tried to walk away, but the brute followed him. He remembered the situation well because it was the first time he had used his powers. Braxton remembered the otter's expression dropping as the fox glared back at him. He felt an energy in his face around his vulpine eyes. It had scared him when the bully fell to the ground. He ran home thinking he had killed him with a death glare.

He had not, of course, but that otter never bothered him again. What he needed to do was catch this Mr Donovan alone, have enough time to change the bastards mind enough so he wouldn't ever worry him again. Braxton didn't even know if he was actually there. For all he knew, it was only his favourite pizza joint. It would work to scope the place out perhaps he could find one of his lackeys to enthral for more information.

The fox crossed the street. He had dressed down for this part of town. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a black hoodie. He wouldn't stand out as much and draw attention to himself. He had thought to bring the gun that he had taken from Brenden, but it just wasn’t his style, and he had no idea how to shoot anyway.

Braxton entered The Pizza Connection. Inside the place was pretty drab, it needed a good coat of paint and some updated furniture. A row of booths ran up one side of the restaurant. On the right side was the kitchen with a few pizza ovens. A thirty-year-old rat operated in the kitchen, and there was a female Doberman folding pizza boxes at the counter.

Towards the back were some tables as well as three sets of doors. One was marked staff only, and the other two were the female toilet and men’s room respectively. The last door looked promising because two rough types were sitting at a table nearby. This was a recon mission Braxton didn’t want to try anything yet.

The blue fox walked up to the counter and placed an order. He went for a meat lovers pizza and chose a seat that offered him a view of the two thugs guarding the door. The first one was an arctic fox he was reading a well-worn copy of Vulpine Vogue. He was dressed in a cheap suit that was ill-fitting. The other thug was a tabby cat with a bright purple mohawk. She had on a white tee shirt and jeans. She was playing solitaire placing cards on the table top.

Braxton turned his attention to his food when it arrived. He began eating, the pizza was better than he had expected. It had a good load of toppings and just the right amount of salt. He slowly ate and looked up as the arctic fox had gone inside the door labelled office. A few moments later he returned.

It wasn’t much longer until Braxton was down to his last slice. As Braxton reached for it a set of silvery fur-covered paws picked it up before he could. Braxton looked up and saw the fox thug. He leaned down towards Braxton.

“I’ve never seen a fox like you before,” said the silver fox.

“Do you usually help yourself to other creature’s pizza,” said Braxton.

“Only from cuties like you Braxton,” replied the silver fox before taking a bite.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” said Braxton.

The silver fox leaned forward and whispered, “My boss wants to see you, but I would much rather be under that emerald gaze.”

Braxton looked into the silver fox’s golden eyes and said, “You have to say please first.”

In hindsight, Braxton knew he should have had left then and there. They had the drop on him, but he pushed past the fox and walked to the office door. The feline ignored Braxton as the blue fox pushed open the door. He stepped into a short hallway the first door was a pantry of sorts with items neatly stacked on the shelves. The blue fox’s goal was further down the hall.

Braxton walked into the darkened office. Behind a large oak desk sat a reptile. He was a large crocodile. His body was covered this thick, tough green scales. He was dressed in a formal black suit. A red rose boutonniere was hanging from the suit’s lapel. His white shirt was embroidered with a fancy design. Back slacks completed the look. On his ring finger was a tacky silver ring with an engraving of a crocodile on it.

The crocodile regarded Braxton with a scowl before looking down at his right-hand paw splaying his fingers open and flexing his claws. He relaxed his hand before turning towards the fox. Braxton couldn’t help but grin. This idiot was about to become his thrall, and he had just let him trot into his domain.

Braxton wasted no time adding power into his eyes. He concentrated his hypnotic power. His fangs gleamed in the soft light. My Donovan was his prey, but a moment later Braxton knew something wasn’t right. The crocodile regarded Braxton with a look of utter contempt. Then suddenly he began laughing. It wasn’t a mirthful laugh more of a cackle really. Braxton let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I was wondering why you have been so obstinate. You have the enthralling gaze,” said Mr Donovan.

It wasn't working. Suddenly a chill ran up Braxton’s spine. What was wrong with his power? Mr Donovan was just sitting there seemingly unaffected. He redoubled his efforts.

“Just look into my swirling eyes,” said Braxton in a monotone.

The crocodile just opened the bottom drawer of his desk and produced a bottle of wine and an empty glass. He placed the wine glass on his desk and uncapped the bottle of wine. He poured himself a glass of the red wine. The wine smelled like a Tempranillo, a Spanish wine that Braxton recognised. He searched the crocodile’s eyes they were still alert totally unaffected by Braxton's efforts. As he brought the glass to his snout, Braxton could see his own spinning eyes caught in the reflection.

This broke Braxton’s concentration. His power had been working, but Mr Donovan was unaffected by it. Braxton could feel his chest tighten. It was a panic, he felt a panic he hoped he would never have to feel again. It was the panic of not being in control of a confrontation. He shot a glare the crocodile’s way, but it had about the same effect his powers had.

“Take a seat,” said Mr Donovan.

Braxton’s mouth was suddenly dry. He complied sitting in the chair in front of the gangster's desk.

“What’s the matter? Played your hand and found that your pair of twos was against a full house?” taunted Mr Donovan.

Braxton was beginning to feel very small indeed. He couldn’t stop his pointed vulpine ears from pressing flat against his head. The crocodile took another sip of his wine.

“Twenty-five per cent,” said Mr Donovan. He was studying his wine glass as he spoke.

“I-I…” began Braxton.

“Twenty-five per cent boy,” said Mr Donovan. Turning his gaze towards the fox.

Braxton stood up quickly. He leaned forward and slammed both his hand paws on the table. “No!” he shouted.

Mr Donovan sighed and stood up slowly. Braxton straightened himself as he watched the croc circle around the desk. It came in a flash a sudden onslaught of pain down the right side of his face and then the left. It took a moment to register what had just happened. Mr Donovan had given him two backhanders. As he was still reeling as a third slap struck. This one almost knocked him to the ground.

Braxton swung wildly he made contact with the not so soft hide of Mr Donovan's arm. It had been raised in a defensive position waiting for the fox’s blow. This time the croc landed a punch on Braxton’s abdomen. The fight was over before it had begun the fox doubled over on the floor and gasped for breath. He had the wind knocked out of him.

Mr Donovan returned to his seat and took another sip of wine as Braxton tried to compose himself. Braxton felt hot tears form in his eyes just from the shock alone. He had never been in a fight even with his patrons. He could always rely on his fast wit or hypnotic gaze to get him out of trouble.

“Boy, I trust you not to use that tone with me again,” said Mr Donovan.

Braxton could taste blood. One of the slaps had cut his lip open.

“Twenty-five per cent is fair considering how difficult you’ve been. The next time one of my employees pay you a visit I expect them to return with your contribution,” said the crocodile.

Braxton had just got himself sitting on his knees. Mr Donovan got up and walked over to the fox.

“One last thing. Kiss the ring,” said Mr Donovan as he lowered his silver ring towards Braxton’s muzzle.

The poor fox was broken, his powers were impotent, and he just been beaten up like some street punk. His physical pain was outclassed by his internal anguish. His kissed Mr Donovan’s ring as tears ran down his cheeks.