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A Fang in the Farmyard

Howls and cheers rang out around the club that reeked of cigar-smoke and wolf musk. If you’d have entered, you might be greeted by a few bored wolves of the scrawnier variety milling about a pool table or drinking quietly at the bar, but chances are your attention would go straight to the group of wolves all dressed in blue roaring and whistling at some spectacle.

If you’d have been foolish enough to approach them and push your way through the crowd, presuming you weren’t thrown to the ground, wolf-piled, and humped into submission; you’d have found two totally naked wolves with their tapered cocks sheathed into some strange device. Suction tubes wrapped themselves around their cocks, squeezing and pulling, while the wolves they were attached to beat at their chests, snarled, and growled.

At this point, you would have been smart to consider going to another bar. This place was the hangout of the East Side Fangs, the second-most dangerous pack of wolves in the city (Out of politeness, you should refer to them as the most dangerous, lest you want to be forced to turn tricks in the backroom until their egos are sated with enough cash.).

Ironmaul towered over the rival wolf in the milking machine across from him by almost a whole foot. The white-furred runt had made a huge mistake earlier and not tucked his tail between his legs when Ironmaul growled at him from across the room. The white wolf, who had no gang name yet, claimed he hadn’t seen or heard him do it, but that was no excuse to the pack..

Gritting his teeth, Ironmaul let the machine work his cock. The pleasure was practically sweltering but like a proud alpha wolf, Ironmaul held to a long-standing creed that the Fangs upheld.

Only a bitch cums without his cock inside someone else.

The West Side Claws did not abide by this tradition and would often claim the Fangs were idiots for doing so. As far as Ironmaul was concerned, this was just another sign of their weakness and decline, no matter what the so-called official crime statistics claimed about their body-count.

“Ergh,” the white wolf clenched his teeth together, drool dripping from his lips. Whining, he wiggled his hip, trying to find some uncomfortable position that would reduce the strain on his cock.

It was futile. There was no escape from having your dominance tested. You either stood strong or you fell like a bitch.

The white wolf suddenly reached down with his paw and another member of the crew leaped forward, snatching his paw and snapping it behind his back.

“Nice try,” Ironmaul growled and crossed his arms around his muscular chest. His powerful, round belly gyrated along with the machine’s thrusts. “C’mon, jus’ give up. No shame in admittin’ yer a pack bitch.”

Ironmaul snorted and looked to the pack of wolves behind him, “Well, maybe a little!”

“N-no…” the white wolf whined and wriggled in the grasp of the wolf holding him in place, “...I-I’m not a bi-”

The silence that followed was deafening. The wolf wordlessly opened his mouth as milky cum began to run along tubes hanging out of the machine before dripping into a jar below.

“Ha!” Ironmaul yanked his cock out of the machine and knocked it onto the ground as it continued to pump at nothing. His cock was red from the strain and the wolf proudly marched over to the white wolf, who had fallen onto his back in a daze, flexing his arms over him. “Like I said, nothin’ but a bitch.”

The white wolf’s eyes were unfocused and he was panting uncontrollably, unable to even muster a reply.

“Think you earned a name though,” Ironmaul shook a drop of precum from his cock that landed in the middle of the forest of white fur on the wolf’s chest. “Cumstain, that’s yer name. Got it?”

Cumstain slowly wagged his tail, unable to do much else to show his submission.

“Good bitch,” Ironmaul put his claws in his mouth and whistled, pointing at a gray wolf. A rookie who was reaching his one year anniversary in the gang. “You. You get first crack at this bitch’s ass.”

“Thanks, Alpha!” the gray wolf tucked his tail between his legs before slinking past Ironmaul and pouncing atop Cumstain, humping at whatever part of the wolf he could reach.

If you were still in the bar at this point and had not been held against your will, I’m afraid you might be insane enough to be considered for membership of the East Side Fangs.

Ironmaul flexed his muscles and barked and growled at a few other members before triumphantly strutting towards the entrance to the back office. Two wolves flanked the door and Ironmaul showed the minimum amount of deference to their higher rank by lowering his ears slightly and one of them opened the door for him.

Now that that little shit is dealt with, time to see what the boss wanted.

A thick velvet curtain greeted Ironmaul and nothing more, just as it always did. The smell of cinnamon filled the air, covering up the boss’ scent.

The door clicked shut behind Ironmaul and the curtain suddenly swished to the sides dramatically, magical sparkles trailing behind its fabric as the boss’ true office was revealed.

Heidrun stood proudly atop her desk, stars dancing across her palms as her purple robes flowed in the unnatural wind, her udder and breasts bulging beneath the cloth. The brown cow was the gang’s unfortunate secret, only known to those high enough in rank, and though Ironmaul felt a bit of shame serving a herbivore there was no doubting her power.

The boss does love her theatrics.

What was abnormal though was the wolf locked in the wide cage on the far side of the room. Thunderbane, Ironmaul’s brother from a younger litter, was slowly floating in the air, helplessly rotating while magical light danced across his arms and legs.

Ironmaul had heard his brother was going through some kind of conditioning with the boss. Rumors circled in the upper ranks whether it was because he did something to please her or he pissed her off somehow. Ironmaul knew better to ask the boss.

Heidrun stepped forward off of her desk, a disk of light forming under her feet with each step until she climbed down the invisible staircase down onto the floor. Ironmaul bowed and tucked his tail between his legs, he knew better than to be prideful around the boss.

“My milkers are missing again,” Heidrun snorted. “I presume you had another cock duel?”

“Proud tradition of the Fangs, boss,” Ironmaul couldn’t help but smile proudly as he remembered his victory and wagged his tail. “I won again.”

“We wouldn’t want to go against tradition no matter how…” Heidrun rolled her eyes, “...unique.”

“Yer right, boss!”

Sighing, Heidrun waved her arm with a flicker of magical light and Thunderbane suddenly winced in his magical prison. A low groan later and a stream of cum dribbled out of the tip of his still-sheathed cock.

That said it all for Ironmaul. He didn’t need to ask the boss anything, his brother was there because he lost a contest of sexual stamina. Usually the boss only saw the most powerful, most alpha of wolves, but there were times she allowed a weaker one to entertain her.

His litter was full of runts after all…

“Let’s cut right to the chase, shall we?” Heidrun rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers, prompting another moan from the smaller wolf. “We’ve found the supplier of Mr. Falcone’s new product.”

Ironmaul blinked. This was ringing a bell inside his brain but he had been very busy engaging in displays of alpha masculinity for the past few weeks to the detriment of managing pack affairs. He remembered Heidrun complaining about some new drug on the market but…

“I can see you’ve forgotten,” Heidrun stared unblinking at Ironmaul. “The Lycanthropic Essence. A small dose gives a rush of strength, muscle-growth, and sexual virility…larger doses can turn those taking it into monsters.”

“Yup!” Ironmaul exclaimed proudly. “Ran into one of ‘em last week. Weren’t no match for me an’ the pack though!”

“You and the pack,” Heidrun emphasized. “If this supply keeps draining into the market, we’re going to have a serious problem and no doubt Mr. Falcone’s goons can juice up with this on a moment’s notice if we tangle.”

“Sure it’s him an’ not the Claws?” Ironmaul stood up, puffed out his chest, and flared his nostrils; but made sure not to bare an inch of fang towards the boss. “Give us the go-ahead an’ we’ll jump ‘em!”

“No,” Heidrun clapped her palms together and a bookshelf on the side of the room suddenly rotated.

A loud gasp rushed out from behind the bookshelf before it fully flipped, revealing a red fox tied to the back by his wrists and ankles. A metal cage covered his sheath and a blindfold wrapped around his eyes. He panted dryly, desperate for the relatively fresh office air.

“We caught this one and he broke after less than an hour of soft torture,” Heidrun smiled over at the fox.

Ironmaul fidgeted with the foreskin of his sheath, “Ten minutes with the knot and I would’ve broken him faster.”

Heidrun slowly turned her gaze to Ironmaul, “Are you questioning my skills?”

“N-no!” Ironmaul tucked his tail and hunched over, lowering himself. “Just uh…like yer little toy there. Got ahead of myself, sorry.”

“Indeed!” Heidrun clapped her palms and the bookshelf turned again. The fox screamed until he vanished from sight. “But what’s important now is that he has revealed Falcone’s source: a rundown farm out in the countryside.”

Ironmaul tilted his head in confusion.

“I didn’t believe it at first, but after some extra torment the fox said things that backed up his statement,” Heidrun crossed her arms and recounted with boredom in her voice. “There were rumors of a rich wolf going to a farm around the same area for some mysterious affliction, said farmhouse has advertised its alternative medicine services openly, and the owner has posted personal ads for wolves specifically.”

“Hrm,” Ironmaul rubbed his chin, “well, lemme get the pack an we’ll-”

“No,” Heidrun shook her head. “Just you.”

“Uh…” Ironmaul licked his nose nervously, “boss, we’re better as a team an-”

“The doctor is a horse and though he seems to have a lust for wolves I imagine his herbivore instincts might kick in and a pack of wolves will spook him.”

“That’s fine, the pack’ll love some horse meat!”

Pain cracked across Ironmaul’s muzzle and he yelped, throwing himself to the ground in response to the magical slap.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” he chanted, covering his face against the floorboards. The boss was not a fan of carnivore jokes, not at all.

“You’re to go there alone and make contact with the doctor. Determine his source and either flip him to our side or take care of him. Avoid fighting if possible.”

“Yes boss!”

“Now go.”

Lifting himself up and fearing the boss’ anger, he marched himself out as straight as an arrow, lifting his legs up and down with military precision. When she was pissed, any slight break of the boss’ high standards of decorum could set her off, so Ironmaul wasn’t taking any chances.

When he opened the door a crack, Ironmaul got a glimpse of Cumstain living up to his new namesake as two wolves shot their load across his snowy fur.

“One more thing.”

Ironmaul shut the door and spun around, standing up straight.

A golden, evil glint ran across Heidrun’s eyes.

“If you screw up, you’re joining the fox, understand?”

“Yes, boss!”

“And you will not be on top, understand?”

Ironmaul whimpered and nodded, slowly creeping out of the door and keeping his eye on the boss the whole while.

Fresh blood stained Ironmaul’s fangs. He licked the blood away slowly, savoring the taste of spilled blood, before peeling back his lips and snapping his jaws forward once more.

His teeth buried into flesh, teeth clicking and snapping as he chewed his prey to bits.

He was a proud wolf, a fierce hunter. Scourge of so-called civilized folks since the dawn of anthro-kind. His nature could not be tamed, no matter what the boss thought of him.

Tossing the styrofoam package his raw steak had come in onto the road and licking up the last remnants of blood from his lips, Ironmaul finally shut off his motorcycle and kicked the brake into gear.

The wolf took one look at the two story farmhouse. It sure didn’t look like much, that was for sure. The grass was overgrown, the porch looked like it was about to collapse any moment, and the paint was peeling. There was a path to the porch, but Ironmaul could barely see it under the overgrowth covering it.

Why’s she even want me to be all nice an’ all? Damned cow…

Ironmaul suddenly looked from side to side, fearing Heidrun might suddenly appear and punish him for his thoughts. He sighed with relief when he found himself still alone.

Who’s she even think she is? Jus’ cuz she’s got magic, she thinks she can treat me like a dog?

Well, fuck that. Ain’t gonna let some grass-eater boss me around forever, prolly wants to give this doc special treatment cuz he’s kin.

Ironmail bared his fangs and fiddled with his claws.

Sorry boss, he fought back! I had no choice but to show him his place!

Visions of Ironmaul sheathing his cock up to the knot in a horse danced around in his mind. He was the most powerful wolf on the planet, no one could stop him, especially not some country horse!

Huffing, Ironmaul stepped off his bike and puffed up his chest, letting his hackles fluff. It was time to make his mark and show the boss who was really boss.

Ironmaul stomped through the grass, making sure to step on a patch of clover flowers in the process. The wolf grinned proudly at the damage he left in his wake and soon reached the stairs leading up to the porch.

There was no question about it, this was a trap. Ironmaul snorted as he stared down at new, unvarnished planks of fragile balsa wood atop the stairs and the porch.

Herbivores…does he think wolves are stupid or something!?

One step on the porch and crash! Ironmaul’s leg would fall straight thr0ugh the porch. But Ironmaul wasn’t foolish enough to fall for it.

Proudly raising his muzzle, Ironmaul rounded the edge of the porch, heading to the side. He had a desire to express his supremacy over conquering the trap and resolved himself to mark his territory on it later when his bladder was more full.

Not gonna fall for a dumb trap like that, no sir! I’m better than that, I’m-

The ground collapsed beneath Ironmaul’s foot and he found himself rushing down into a dark void. By the time he realized what happened, he hit the ground with a painful thud.

Yelping, Ironmaul kicked himself up and found himself at the bottom of a deep pit atop a pile of long grass and string netting. A trap! A far more clever trap than Ironmaul had expected from the horse!

Whining and scratching at the dirt walls surrounding him, Ironmaul’s claws failed to get a grip. The soil was too soft and loamy, any attempt to climb it just resulted in dirt falling loose into the wolf’s paw.

“Damn, damn, damn!” Ironmaul growled and snapped at the air with his jaws. This wasn’t going as planned, not at all.

Ironmaul’s ears twitched at the sound of dirt being kicked up off in the distance. Someone was coming. The footsteps were heavy, echoing through the ground and…

Ironmaul wrinkled his nose.

Horse. The smell of horse was wafting closer, that and…

The wolf stood on his toes and sniffed deeper.

Fox? That’d explain the trap…they’re tricky ones…

Baring his teeth, Ironmaul growled lowly. He needed a plan and fast.

Suddenly, the wolf softened his features and folded his ears back. He tucked his tail between his legs and whined pitifully and loudly.

Just pretend to be weak and pathetic…then when the horse leans over the hole…BANG!

It was a perfect plan in Ironmaul’s mind. Nothing could go wrong.

“What’ve we got here?” a voice called out from above, a thick countryside accent on every word.

Ironmaul whined once more, hating every moment of this little pathetic act he was putting on but he was very close to eliminating all witnesses to his weakness. Just a little bit longer and…

A shadow cast over the hole, followed by the visage of a long, equine muzzle.

Ironmaul immediately snapped his paw towards his hip and…

Felt nothing but his pants.

A cold chill ran down Ironmaul’s spine.

His gun, he had left it in the saddlebags of his motorcycle.

He’d gotten so hyped up on the coming fight that he forgot it.

Gnashing his teeth, spittle flew out in every direction down in his hole, instantly breaking the tame facade Ironmaul put on in favor of blind anger and fear.

“Well, looks like we got an angry lil’ pup down there,” the horse, shadowed by the noon sun which he covered, spoke. “Whaddya think?”

“C’MON DOWN HERE AND FIGHT ME!” Ironmaul pounded his chest and snarled. “FIGHT ME LIKE A WOLF!”

“Yeaaaaaah…” the horse drawled and stepped back out of sight, “...why don’t you come up here an’ fight me like a stallion?”

Fight like a mere horse!? That was a grave insult to Ironmaul’s brain, he was a wolf, an apex predator engineered to dominate herbivores like this horse!

But there was nothing much Ironmaul could do but snarl and snap, throwing out more mockery to goad the horse to jump down into the pit where Ironmaul would have the advantage. Something that was increasingly falling on deaf ears as the horse continued to talk.

“You were in the market for another wolf after Jeff left to complete his Masters!” a woman’s voice sang. “I’d say fate just gave you a blessing!”

A fox, just as I smelled before, Ironmaul snuffled his nose, catching wind of the unmistakable scent.

“Reckon so,” the horse muttered. “Y’wanna take care of him or me?”

“Sweet of ya to offer, but I’m still recoverin’ from practice, you go on ahead!”

“Sure thing, Belinda.”

The sound of a rifle cocking echoed through the hole and Ironmaul’s posturing loosened for a split second as he tucked his tail out of genuine fear before putting up his tough facade once more.

“YA DON’T SCARE ME, HORSE! YA DON’T-!”

The long muzzle popped over the rim of the hole once more, this time with a thin rifle lined up against the horse’s eyes, aimed down at the wolf.

There was a sharp poot and an equally sharp pain rang out from Ironmaul’s neck. The wolf immediately swiped at his neck, catching a dart sticking out from it and ripping it away.

“THAT ALL!? A LITTLE DART!?” Ironmaul tried to roar but found his throat would not cooperate and merely opened his jaws as wide as he could silently. “TAKES MORE THAN THAT TO TAKE DOWN AN ALPHA!”

“Okay,” the horse slid another dart into the breach of the rifle and racked the bolt before aiming and firing once more.

“AGH!” Ironmaul screamed and batted at the new dart in his neck. His legs were beginning to wobble and he struggled to get a grip on the feathers of the dart. “WHAT THE…the hell?”

“Ya told me it’d take more than one,” the horse snorted and kicked a clump of dirt down the hole, spraying Ironmaul with debris. “Ya kinda crawled into that one.”

“That’s not…” Ironmaul’s eyes felt heavy and his body began to feel like it was floating, “...that’s not what I…”

“Yeah, yeah, just g’wan to bed there little cub,” the horse spoke in a soothing voice. “Jus’ imagine you and yer pack all cuddlin’ together in a cold winter night, yer noses pressed up against each other’s butts…”

That did sound nice, Ironmaul had to admit. He found himself lying on the ground of the pit, his vision slowly fading.

Just take a little nap…then get that horse…

Just a little…

Gasping, Ironmaul awoke blindly with a cold shock. The world was covered in a dark gray haze and the wolf felt drenched from head to toe.

“That woke ‘im up,” the horse’s voice spoke, the sounds of it blurred much like Ironmaul’s vision.

Just as the wolf began to sniff, Ironmaul got a thick whiff of grass and horse musk just as a hand touched his face and wiped the wet fur away from his eyes.

The horse came into view clearly for the first time. He sure didn’t look like any doctor to Ironmaul, standing tall before him in a pair of beat-up jeans and a white tank-top. His fur was dirt brown from mane to hoof and in his left hand he carried a white coffee mug that proclaimed him the “Knot-tying Champion of 2023.”

Ironmaul’s wrists burned above his head and a quick gaze upward showed they were bound with rope and hanging from a beam in a ramshackle barn.

The wolf was pissed but most of all, he was wet and his brain scrambled for either one of his basic instincts to fire first and eventually decided that the soaked fur was a bigger priority than the horse threatening him.

Shaking his now-naked torso as best as he could from his bindings, Ironmaul dried himself off and sprayed water all over the barn. While in the midst of doing this, Ironmaul had a cunning thought.

That’ll show him, throw my scent all over his barn. Maybe’ll even recognize my superiority an-

The smug grin on Ironmaul’s lips faded the moment he stopped shaking and found the horse holding a glass jar aimed at the wolf.

“Don’t suppose ya got a bit more?” the horse grinned, showing off his square teeth. “Got a fennec upcountry who pays big fer wolf fur water, weird pup drinks it.”

Ironmaul flung his body forward, gnashing his jaws with ropes of saliva flying all around, though only succeeded in swinging back and forth thanks to the ropes dangling him from the ceiling.

“Hoo-wee!” the horse fanned his paw across his long nose. “What’d you eat, cub? Yer breath reeks!”

Placing his jar on a wooden table lined with a variety of unidentifiable tools to Ironmaul, the horse grabbed a towel and patted himself dry, “So, ya gonna use yer words or ya just gonna make a buncha noise?”

Snorting and flaring his nostrils, Ironmaul peeled his lips back and showed off his fangs, “If ya don’t let me go right now, the Fangs will be on yer ass before sundown.”

The horse chuckled and picked up a spray can and turned the nozzle on himself, “Ah, ya done fucked up now cub.”

As the horse sprayed himself, the smell of antiseptic caught itself in Ironmaul’s nose and the wolf had to force himself not to sneeze.

“What’ya mean, meat!?” Ironmaul licked his lips slowly in an attempt to intimidate, an ambitious task as the horse was not even looking at him.

“Well, ah thought y’were just a burglar. Was just gonna have a bit of fun with ya and let ya go,” the horse spun around and pointed the can at the wolf and sprayed, forcing the wolf to cough and sneeze as his body was covered in harsh-smelling antiseptic.

“But see, now ya just admitted yer with a gang,” the horse explained as he placed the can on his table and snapped a pair of rubber gloves on his hands. “So now I’d hafta be dumb as shit to let ya go now.”

Ironmaul’s eyes went wide with fear for just a second before he composed himself.

“I…” Ironmaul forced his tail to not tuck itself between his legs, “...yer gonna let me go NOW!”

“Uh, nah, how fuckin’ stupid ya think horses are?” the horse grinned as he took a tube and squirted a clear liquid across his gloves. “I let ya go and you’ll report back and yer packmates’ll come in the night. Better to keep ya as a hostage until yer buds come here and then we can talk things out.”

“Oh, that’s not gonna happen, sugar-cube.”

The second voice from the hole sang out from inside a corridor leading to what looked like livestock stalls. The horse peered over to the voice as a gate squeaked and an orange figure emerged.

The vixen was short with a stocky, round build. Her large breasts were covered up by a strange robe with floral print on it, looking like wallpaper from a grandmother’s house. A white sunhat with a pointed tip was atop her brow, her eyes covered up by the floppy brim.

“Heidrun sent you, hm?” the vixen grinned as she removed her hat and hung it on a nail sticking out of the wall. Her eyes were a fiery red, sparking with a mysterious energy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Bless your heart!” the vixen smiled softly but in a way that did nothing to calm Ironmaul down, in fact she seemed suddenly very predatory. “But her magical signature is all over you, dear. Not to mention her scent…”

“Good catch, Belinda,” the horse crossed his arms, goo dripping from his gloves. “I’m guessin’ a witch like yerself, yer not gonna chase after a lost wolf?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t let this cutie leave my sight!” Belinda glided over to Ironmaul and scratched him behind the ear. Ironmaul snapped his jaws but Belinda floated across the room and he bit nothing but air. “But her? No, she’s not sending anyone. You’re alone, cub.”

Ironmaul tried to lunge, once more stopped by the ropes, and growled, “The Fangs are coming, jus’ you wait!”

“Did you tell any of the Fangs you were coming here?”

Ironmaul’s ears folded back.

“Private mission for the boss, right?” Belinda swished her tail behind her robes. “She left a tracker enchantment on you, ya know?”

Relieved, Ironmaul grinned wickedly, “Ya see? The Fangs watch out fer-”

“Seems like she didn’t trust ya enough to get the job done.”

Once more Ironmaul’s ears folded back and his tail slowly crept between his legs.

“I think you ought to make yourself comfortable, sugar,” Belinda ran her paw through her cheek fur. “We’re going to have a bit of fun.”

Ironmaul was paralyzed, the world a blur around him. No, he was the boss’ greatest soldier, if she put a tracker on him it was to know where to summon help!

Then again, the boss could be cruel...

Ironmaul was dragged back to reality the moment he felt the horse’s rough hand grab him by the base of his tail. Yelping, Ironmaul tried to kick and swing to break free.

“Sit still, pup,” the horse lifted his tail up. “Gotta get ya all cleaned up.”

A cold finger wrapped in rubber suddenly poked at the wolf’s rear. Ironmaul’s hackles raised but before he could so much as growl, there was a pop as the horse suddenly jammed his finger into his butt.

Whining, Ironmaul clenched his rear and kicked his legs, his claws harmlessly grazing against the horse’s jeans.

“By the way,” the horse suddenly said, whickering gently. “Name’s Otis, I’m a…well, some folks don’t like when ah call myself a doctor…so let's just say I’m an independent medical researcher.”

That only made fear well up in Ironmaul’s stomach more, though the wolf would never admit it even as he struggled more and more as his ass was explored by Otis.

No, not fear, anger; or so the wolf insisted internally. It wasn’t cold fear that shot down his spine with every invasive press of the horse’s finger, it was burning rage! Anger at this upstart herbivore holding him down in such a position and pure, unrefined rage at the humiliation.

But that anger would help fuel Ironmaul, to keep him focused and patient for when he has the chance to turn the tables and show the true strength of a wolf and why he was a predator and the horse was mere prey!

“YIPE!”

Ironmaul squeaked as the horse suddenly pressed firmly on something inside the wolf, something that made a glowing pleasure scream inside him and then jolt across his skin. The wolf was paralyzed with the sudden sensation and when the joy faded, all Ironmaul could think of was this was exactly the same thing lesser wolves he had rutted had done.

Belinda suddenly reappeared before the wolf and slammed a stool on the ground, stepping up on it until she was at the same height as Ironmaul. Otis wrapped his free arm around the wolf’s shoulder and held him in place while Belinda pinched his ear between her claws and stuck a strange white device into his ear.

BEEP.

Belinda pulled the device out and peered at a small screen on it, “101 degrees Fahrenheit.”

“Perfectly normal fer a wolf, good.”

Otis yanked his finger out of Ironmaul’s butt and the wolf yelped sharply enough to crack glass. Ironmaul’s vision went white for a second and when it returned Otis was at his side and lightly slapped the wolf’s beige-furred balls.

“C’mon, ya ain’t hard yet?” Otis grinned wildly and exhaled in the wolf’s face. “Thought ya’d like to be treated like a bitch.”

“I’M AN ALPHA!”

The rafters shook like a tornado was on its way and Ironmaul’s voice echoed around the barn with a powerful bellow.

However Otis and Belinda were at most annoyed by the wolf's posturing.

“Well, guess we’re just gonna have to treat ya like an alpha, huh?” Otis shrugged.

Ironmaul tilted his head in confusion. He had no idea how to respond to that. The wolf wasn’t dumb enough to think both of them were going to let him go, bend over, and lift their tails.

So what were they up to?

“But first…” Otis nodded over at the vixen, “...wanna prep our Alpha?”

“Delighted to!” Belinda sang.

In a flash, the vixen was between Otis and Ironmaul, peering up at the wolf with a deceptively innocent gaze.

“Now just sit still hon and let me get to work.”

A firm grip suddenly snatched Ironmaul’s sheath and squeezed. The wolf gasped with pain and forced arousal; at first he thought the horse must have grabbed him but he was surprised to see the vixen’s paw around his genitals when he looked down. She was far stronger than she looked.

“Witchcraft…” Ironmaul clenched his jaws. He wasn’t going to let them get him hard, he had no idea what they wanted to do with him but it couldn’t be good.

“Oh sugar, no,” Belinda giggled. “This is witchcraft.”

A stiff jolt ran through the length of Ironmaul’s sheathed cock and the wolf’s jaw hung open in surprise. Ironmaul looked down, expecting to see Belinda had shoved something inside his cock, but the fox was still just squeezing his sheath and balls.

Belinda’s ear twitched and she leaned in, pressing it against Ironmaul’s cock.

“Let’s see…” Belinda hummed and twiddled her fingers, causing another jolt inside Ironmaul’s cock,” …everyone has their sweet spot…”

“Maybe…this?”

Ironmaul yelped as a shock of arousal blasted through his cock and balls. He gritted his teeth and tried to focus on anything that would keep his arousal under control.

I am an Alpha! I will not be treated this way by a fox!

“Come on, my proud Alpha…” Belinda whispered, “...imagine me against the wall and mounting me…”

Oh no.

Ironmaul’s cock shuddered and he tried to squeeze his thighs to stop it but the vixen’s grip remained firm.

“That’s it…” Belinda whispered and stroked the tip of Ironmaul’s cock as it peeked out from the sheath, “...almost there…”

Another jolt shot through Ironmaul’s cock, followed by a sensation of an invisible hand around the shaft yanking, aggressively trying to pull Ironmaul’s cock out.

“There!”

A click echoed in Ironmaul’s brain right before a sudden force pulled his cock free from its protective sheath. Warm summer air brushed along the pink cock as it was exposed to the elements and Belinda smiled, running a claw victoriously along his shaft.

“Good job, ‘Linda,” Otis grunted. “Think we still got some work to do though.”

The wolf’s cock was free now but it was not fully aroused and Ironmaul desperately pushed out the images Belinda had suggested to him from his mind.

I will not submit…I am a proud wolf!

A quick shiver ran through his cock. Thinking about himself as an Alpha wolf seemed to make Ironmaul more aroused.

This was a problem. Being the proud wolf Ironmaul believed himself to be was making him hard and under normal circumstances that would be a proud show of his wolfhood.

But on the other hand, Ironmaul forcing his cock to retreat would be a show of submission and weakness.

The Advanced Calculus of this philosophical conundrum continued to bounce around in the wolf’s head with no immediate solution. Things only got harder when something spicy wafted around Ironmaul’s nostrils and the wolf ceased his internal debate just in time to see Otis pointing a perfume bottle at the wolf’s snout.

A mist sprayed out from the bottle, catching Ironmaul straight on the nose. Visions of she-wolves in heat with their rears exposed danced around Ironmaul’s mind and he began to thrust his hips uncontrollably, imagining himself catching one of the she-wolves and mounting her.

Drool dripped from the side of Ironmaul’s black lips and he growled. He was the most powerful sexual being in the room, a dominating figure of power and sensual strength. He was an Alpha!

The hallucinations faded away though the musky scene of wolf pheromones still twirled in the air. Ironmaul saw Otis and Belinda, both of them eagerly staring at the wolf and his fully erect cock.

Shit!

Ironmaul shook his head, desperately trying to push away the lust growing in his loins.

“Otis,” Belinda pointed down towards Ironmaul’s cock, “I need you to gently keep him stimulated.”

“Gladly,” Otis grinned.

“Gently, I said, sugar-cube.”

The vixen stood up and the horse immediately snatched Ironmaul’s cock, squeezing it between his rough grip. Belinda pressed her paw on Ironmaul’s chest, running it across his chest before keeping it still and whispering something under her breath.

“Lets see what makes you tick,” she raised her voice slightly.

A feeling that Ironmaul could only describe as arousal rushed through every inch of his skin. Belinda’s eyes glowed bright yellow, an unseen magical wind shot through the air and flapped the fox’s fur and floral robes as she dug her claws into the bound wolf’s chest.

And then there was nothing, no sensation at all. The world was deadly still, at least until a creeping sensation wriggled around in Ironmaul’s skin, crawling underneath his belly and leaving a strange tickling feeling behind in its wake as it slowly went down.

Eventually the sensation reached his cock and it began to grow warm. Otis began to squeeze and stroke, heightening the sensation of the magic coursing through Ironmaul’s cock. It was a powerful assault, had Ironmaul been a weaker wolf he would have succumbed to the erotic onslaught.

But he was no mere wolf.

Ironmaul dangled firmly from his confines and steeled his loins. An Alpha like him would have no trouble defeating both magic and physical might! All he had to do was concentrate, just as he had with Cumstain today.

The smell of horse sweat filled Ironmaul’s nostrils. Otis was getting tired stroking his shaft and there was no doubt the vixen would tire as well. The witch hid her deeper layers of scent behind some glamor, but Ironmaul knew that was to hide her fear and exhaustion.

Staring at the vixen as she chanted and her magic wracked Ironmaul’s nerves, he bared his fangs.

I’ll show them both who’s an Alpha after this…

Suddenly, Belinda gasped and recoiled, clutching at her temple. Her tongue hung from her lips as she panted.

“You okay?” Otis asked.

“No, she’s not okay!” Ironmaul roared. “She’s experiencin’ the full power of an Alpha Wolf! Foxes…are nuthin’ more than toys for us!”

Lifting his head up in a howl, Ironmaul was lost in the triumph. Surely, surely they’d give up and let him go now?

Perhaps bend over and lift their tails in submission?

But there was no sorrow or fear in the air. Ironmaul lowered his muzzle and was startled by glowing yellow runes floating around his sheath, which vanished shortly after.

“Heidrun left an endurance enchantment on him as well,” Belinda snorted. “Bless her heart, I guess she wanted to make sure you didn’t fail?”

Ironmaul went limp. When did Heidrun cast that on him? The tracker wasn’t a surprise, but this…

Was it on me when I was challenging Cumstain?

Was it on me when Heidrun took over the Fangs?

NO!

Ironmaul was powerful, he told himself. He was more than whatever spell Heidrun put on him, he was an Alpha!

“Well, let's just see about getting rid of this…”

While the fox continued to work her magic by tracing runes on the wolf’s torso, each one leaving a threatening tickle of arousal behind. Otis gently stroked at the wolf’s cock, tickling him just enough to keep him hard.

Resist…

The horse snorted and tightened his grip, kneading his thumb into the wolf’s cock as if it were clay. Ironmaul grit his teeth as a tickling sensation grew in the base of his cock.

Resist…

As if a light had been switched off, the sensation vanished. Otis paused and blinked, then tightened his grip even harder as a bead of sweat trickled down the horse’s brow.

Flaring his nostrils and lifting his muzzle proudly, Ironmaul let out a little howl and boasted, “Havin’ some trouble tyin’ the knot, eh, meat?”

Suddenly the horse grabbed Ironmaul by the chest and spun him around. It seemed whatever was holding his ropes on the rafters had a rotating pulley on it, though Ironmaul could not ponder this for long as he suddenly was pushed forward. The ropes tensed on squeaking mechanisms above as the wolf was rolled forward with Otis’ hand still on his cock.

The destination became clear though Ironmaul did not quite know what it was. It looked like a wooden rectangle with a hole on the end with strangely shaped padded cushioning. It baffled the wolf more than made him afraid, not that an Alpha like Ironmaul would ever be afraid of course.

“Most realistic wolf pussy ever made,” Otis said proudly.

Ironmaul blinked. It looked nothing like a wolf or any other canine…no…species’ vagina. It was just a hole with seemingly randomly placed padding around it creating a mutant vagina in the mount.

“Yup!” Otis slapped the mount proudly. “This ol’ girl can take an entire pack o’ wolves in an hour without any wear or tear. Why, I bet ya wouldn’t even know the difference between a real one if I had ya blindfolded, whaddya think?”

Belinda rolled her eyes slightly with a smile.

The horse pinched Ironmaul’s jowls and stretched them to the side, his hand still resting on his cock.

“Shit, Belinda!” Otis poked Ironmauls nose, squishing it back as far as it would go. “I think he likes the look of it! Ain’t you a horny little pup?”

Despite the hideous appearance of the device and the less than desirable circumstances…Ironmaul was still rock hard. That damned spell the fox had on him was working and both of his captors could tell. Ironmaul resisting the growth of his knot was only a short victory in what was going to be a very long day.

And what could Ironmaul do? Tell them no?

None of it mattered and as the wolf remained silent his cock began to slowly get wheeled towards the device’s gaping hole.

“Ahhhh…”

Ironmaul’s cock tip was soothed by the soft fabric within the mount and forced out a sigh from the unwilling wolf. The deceptively pleasurable inside managed to distract him from how hideous the design of the vagina on the mount was as he was wheeled further in.

The mount somehow seemed alive as more of his cock was swallowed by it. The insides squeezing and constricting against Ironmaul’s shaft, which otherwise effortlessly entered thanks to the warm lubricant smeared in the confines.

Might not look like a wolf pussy but…

With a whine, Ironmaul tried to shift himself and prevent his cock from getting stimulated more, a futile task with what little freedom he had between the horse and the shackles dangling him. Instead, he ended up pressing his tip up against the threshold of the mount's caverns and sending a jolt of arousal through his bones which threatened to swell his knot.

No, no, no! RESIST!

Otis sensed this moment of weakness and squeezed tighter, grinning wildly.

“C’mon, wolfy, ya know ya want to swell up an’ cum.”

Ironmaul shot his face forward, jaws open wide. It was fight or flight, and Ironmaul’s brain was only capable of fight.

BITE BITE BITE BITE BI-!

His feral brain was silenced by a crack of lightning shooting through his ears, followed by every nerve in his body screaming with a chorus of pain and pleasure, that eventually was silenced by pleasure.

It was enough to make Ironmaul wag his tail.

“Shoot!” Belinda clicked her tongue, tapping her paw on the back of the wolf’s head. A jolt of static shot through Ironmaul once again and he wagged his tail against his will once more. “Havin’ some trouble with the enchantment. Got more layers than an onion!”

Otis slapped the top of the mount, sending a shockwave that quivered against Ironmaul’s cock, “Reckon you could use s’more science?”

Smiling warmly, Belinda nodded, “Do be a dear, would ya?”

Snapping out of his pleasure-stunned stupor, Ironmaul snapped his jaws with a click of his teeth, “Yer already dead, meat! Give up now, yer never gonna beat me!”

Silently, Otis reached under the mount and pulled out an electrical cord, twirling it around with a smile.

“What…” Ironmaul blinked, “...the fuck is that?”

“A cord,” Otis snorted, “...Heidrun really didn’t send her brightest, huh?”

“Shut up!” Ironmaul growled. “Ya know what I mean!”

Otis stepped past Ironmaul, flicking his tail against the small bit of the wolf’s cock not buried in the mount, prompting a snarl.

“If ya don’t tell me-”

“Uh huh…yer gonna do what?”

Drool trailed from Ironmaul’s fangs as he growled deeper and deeper into an uncontrollable rage. What few words he managed to utter were incomprehensible, buried beneath a wave of profane snarls and rumbles.

“Think those pheromones got ya a little grumpy,” Otis noted. “Yer gonna feel much better once we’ve milked ya.”

“Mil-?”

Ironmaul was cut off by the click of the cord plugging into the wall, followed by something suctioning onto the tip of his cock within the mount.

“Yeah, we’re gonna milk ya till yer dry,” Otis slapped the wolf on the butt as he passed by and leaned on the mount, which rumbled slightly as the insides began to squeeze and release in succession. “Ya know how much wolf cum goes fer? Tell ya what, it sure pays more than a life of crime.”

Whimpering, Ironmaul swung his legs onto the mount base and tried to kick himself free of the device, but the suction on his tip and shaft were too tight. It was almost like he was knotted into it.

“Might as well jus’ swell up and cum already, yer already stuck.”

“I am not stuck! I am not going to cum!” Ironmaul growled and kicked more to no avail. “I AM AN ALPHA!”

The rafters shook as if a hurricane had rolled through, though Otis and Belinda were not taken aback at the slightest. Belinda continued to trace her claws along his chest with the occasional crackle of magic popping through her palms, while Otis just shook his head and sighed.

“Ya know that’s bullshit, right?”

“What!?”

“The alpha shit, ya know that’s bullshit?”

“It’s a wolf tradition, meat!” Ironmaul snapped his teeth. “Goes back to the dawn o’ time! Only the strongest wolf leads an’ we’d raid grass munchers like ya and make ya beg to serve us.”

“Strongest, huh? Otis flexed his arms. He wasn’t in the best of shape but there really was no comparison to the smaller wolf. “Seems like yer just makin’ shit up to give ya an excuse to be a jerk.”

“Ya wouldn’t know a thing about-”

“Well, we got similar shit. Folks believin’ that stallions should have a harem of mares like the good ol’ days, but then…it’s all kinda bullshit and never was that clear-cut was it?”

“SHUT UP!” Ironmaul growled. “What would meat know about it?”

“Got a ton a’ stories about horse warlords capturin’ wolves an-”

“SHUUUUUUUT UP!”

“Course those are bullshit too, but-”

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

If Ironmaul hadn’t had his wrists tied together the wolf no doubt would be folding his ears down and screaming, “I CAN’T HEAR YOU,” but thanks to the current predicament he could do little more than make a lot of noise.

FUCK! MOUNT! KILL!

The words repeated in Ironmaul’s brain while his eyes were shut and before the wolf knew it, he was imagining himself rutting against his two captors. Triumphantly showing them their true place beneath his loins.

Smiling, Ironmaul opened his eyes only to realize he was rutting against the mount.

NO!

“There we go…” Otis squeezed Ironmaul’s cock once again, running his palm along the base, “...think ya got something growin’ here, lemme help ya…”

Pulling Ironmauls cock out a little bit, Otis wrapped a cushioned leather strap along the very bottom of the wolf’s cock, just below where the knot would be. Ironmaul kicked but the horse dodged, standing up and holding a cord leading from the strap to a squeeze-ball in Otis’ hand.

“The fuck i-ennnnnnnng!”

Otis squeezed the ball rapidly and the cushions along the strap began to inflate, applying more resistance to the wolf’s cock.

“Like that, Belinda?” Otis chuckled, holding the ball towards her and squeezing while the wolf whined. “Made it last night outta a blood pressure cuff.”

“Love it, sugar cube!” she beamed. “But I’m not out of the picture yet!”

Slashing a rune with her dull claws in Ironmaul’s fur, Belinda suddenly sent a jolt of lightning through the wolf’s body. Ironmaul spasmed and his fur jumped up on all ends while the fox laughed in glee as she took out another layer of the magical defenses placed on the wolf.

Once again, it hurt like hell at first but once the pain was gone, Ironmaul was stunned from sheer pleasure. His tongue lolled out while drool trickled onto the floor.

Shaking his head, Ironmaul snapped out of his trance and growled.

“Ain’t done yet,” the wolf snorted. “Yer not gonna get a drop!”

“Hmm…” Otis kneeled down and opened a panel at the bottom front of the mount. With his free hand, he reached down and pulled out a glass and shoved it in Ironmaul’s face. It was half-full of cloudy, watery liquid. “Already got this much outta ya.”

Only now did Ironmaul feel the slickness across his constrained tip. The device was forcing the precum out of his cock despite his resistance and he hadn’t even realized it.

But now it was impossible to ignore. Ironmaul felt weak and small as the pulsation of the mount forced another dribble of precum out from him.

“H-how…so much…”

“Yeah, haven’t seen this much since that one case…” Otis put the glass back into its place and shut the panel. “An’ we still gotta get the real good stuff out.”

“N-no, you’re not…” Ironmaul swallowed, steeling himself. “I will-”

The wolf yelped as the horse tapped him on the cock and agonized pleasure rushed through his cock. Another sensation became impossible to ignore, though Ironmaul very much wished to, and the wolf looked down to find his knot swelling between the mount and the cuff.

“Woulda been better to knot it in the mount but…”

NO!

Ironmaul wanted to scream out of shame but willed himself not to. He couldn’t lose, he could never lose, especially not to a horse and a vixen!

He was a proud wolf. The fiercest of all hunters on the planet.

He couldn’t lose!

Curling his toes and squeezing his wrists together, Ironmaul focused all his efforts on willing the growing shuddering of his cock. Otis and Belinda continued to mock him, the horse playing around with the wolf’s cock and body while the fox continued her incantations, occasionally breaking another layer of Heidrun’s enchantment with an ecstasy of arousal.

I…can’t…lose!

Ironmaul’s cock was screaming to be allowed to cum. His brain joined in on the chorus, begging the wolf’s primal instincts to cum into the mount and spread his seed; start a litter with it and continue his bloodline.

Anger grew as well, a desire to kill. Between these two instincts, Ironmaul grew practically insane, one moment trying to stifle his desire to fuck the mount and the other overtaken by rage and snapping his jaws and fighting against his bonds.

“Almost there…almost there…” Belinda whispered, clenching her paws in a bundle of Ironmaul’s fur. She suddenly reached down with her left paw and stroked the wolf’s balls. “Come on, boy…you can do it…just give in and let that cow’s magic break…”

Flexing his muscles, Ironmaul pulled at the ropes binding his wrists, the rough fibers chafing against his skin.

“Come on, keep it up…” Otis muttered.

“AHHHHHHH!”

Ironmaul suddenly snapped his paws to the side, rope fibers flying around in all directions. He was free! He was free!

With a kick of his feet, Ironmaul shoved the mount back, sending it rolling across the room and freeing his cock. Belinda was tossed to the side and the wolf landed on his feet hunched over, his cock dripping precum on the ground, and he tore away the leather straps wrapped around his penis.

Ironmaul looked up at Otis and then to Belinda who just landed on her feet with a magical flip in the air. Ironmaul’s hackles rising and a murderous growl rumbling in his chest.

It was time to kill.

There was to be no puffing up his chest or boasting.

Just death.

Ironmaul pounced forward, the world growing slow as he flew through the air and the horse grew nearer. He could smell fear and taste warm blood across his tongue as he imagined his inevitable victory.

But then he stopped, landing far short of his target and hunching down on the ground with his cock squeezed between his legs.

Despite being free, his cock still yearned to orgasm and it paralyzed the wolf with desire.

No, he wasn’t really free, and a quick flashing of yellow glyphs across his cock would reinforce that. Belinda was still working her magic despite the distance between them.

“Now!”

The vixen shouted, leaping across the room and placing her palm firmly on Ironmaul’s head. The sound of glass shattering rang through Ironmaul’s head, followed by his cock howling with arousal. Ironmaul had never felt this much sexual joy since as far as he could remember, since…

Since Heidrun took over the gang.

She…her magic really was…

Stunned, Ironmaul was helpless to resist as Otis picked him up like he was nothing, spun him around, and pressed him back up against the mount, slamming his cock into it with no effort.

Ironmaul’s body complied and he collapsed on top of the mount with his paws running along the side while his thighs thrust into the hole. His knot slapped up against the hole, far too swollen to enter.

“C’mon, c’mon…” Otis grumbled as he gripped the wolf’s knot, squeezing it in pulsations. “Gonna need more help…Al!”

Belinda snapped her fingers and down into the hall lined with stable stalls, a gate swung open with an unseen force. Ironmaul was too stunned to even take much notice of it and was only mildly surprised when a figure emerged.

A brown coyote appeared, his body covered from head to toe in an elaborate leather harness that clung tight to his skin.

“Mmmph?” the coyote mumbled, his teeth clenched across a riding bit resting inside his jaw.

“Ya know what to do?”

“Mmmph!”

Trotting playfully, the coyote slipped behind Ironmaul, who could only mutter a weak growl in protest. He was in a compromised position with another, much smaller, canine behind him. The shame was immeasurable to Ironmaul but between the magic and Otis’ grip, his brain was too fogged with lust to fight back.

Ironmaul whined as a slender, slick finger slipped into his rear. The coyote found his prostate in a flash, pressing his claw into it and forcing Ironmaul to yelp.

His mouth wide open, Ironmaul couldn’t do anything more than freeze up as his captors tormented him. Belinda was still chanting even after the spell was broken, taking her place with her palm on his back, her every word timed up with a fresh squeeze along his cock that didn’t line up with Otis’s grip.

How could Ironmaul look himself in the mirror and call himself an Alpha now? After a humiliation like this?

Otis’ words rang in his head, the stuff he said about Alpha wolf culture being bullshit. That was a nice thought, Ironmaul figured, but he was too far poisoned by domination culture.

And all he could do was view himself as a bitch now.

“Who’s a good bitch?” Otis whispered, patting Ironmaul on the head softly.

Ironmaul said nothing.

He didn’t dare think it, but his body was screaming, “I am.”

Ironmaul’s cock was shuddering violently. The triple assault on him was too much to bear.

“Such a good puppy,” Belinda chipped in between incantations. “We should get him a nice collar.”

“Yeah,” Otis smiled and scratched Ironmaul behind the ear. “Ya’d like that, wouldn’t ya?”

A small, happy bark came out of Ironmaul’s mouth and he blushed in shame afterwards.

No…

I’m sorry, boss…

I’m not the Alpha you thought I was…

Time was running out. Ironmaul gritted his teeth, defeat ringing through his nerves. He still couldn’t fully admit it, but there was no denying that there was no victory here.

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

Ironmaul reared his head up as his vision went white. His cock burned up as the tip squeezed against the suction within the mount. A spurt of cum shot out along with an ecstatic jolt of pleasure, followed by another, while the machine sucked it up.

“Well, well, look at the Alpha go,” Otis snickered. “Who’s a big bad wolf, huh?”

“An’ people say foxes are horny,” Belinda grinned and stroked the wolf with a magical aura. “Don’t ya wanna be a pack bitch?”

“GOD DAMN!” Ironmaul howled as more cum shot out. Dominating other wolves never felt like this before, never this good, and the thought of that at first made Ironmaul feel good, but then shame would return.

“Phew!” Otis whistled and slapped the front of the mount. “Gettin’ almost as much as the last wolf!”

Not that he had time to focus on shame as he was still shooting loads and screaming with his orgasm. It wouldn’t stop, it kept on firing and the moment Ironmaul felt like it was about to stop there’d be another press from the coyote’s finger or a jolt of magic and he'd be back at it like he had just started.

Drool flicked from Ironmaul’s maw as he continued to cum against his will. It felt like Ironmaul’s cock was in a jar full of lube now, cum began to leak out from the makeshift hole of the mount, spilling onto the ground in a puddle.

Only when the last rope left his cock and he collapsed atop the mount in exhaustion, his tongue hanging out past his lips, was he able to think about what he had let happen.

I’m no different from Cumstain… he thought in his weakened state, imagining himself lying on the ground of the gang’s clubhouse, tapered cocks surrounding him and ejaculating on his weakened form.

“Science an’ magic,” Otis boasted as the coyote’s finger slipped out of Ironmaul’s ass, followed by Otis slapping the wolf on the rear. Ironmaul did not move an inch. “Nothin’ better, I tell ya what.”

“A cryin’ shame our kind don’t work together more often,” Belinda cheerfully exclaimed and tipped the brow of her sunhat. “He’s like an open book now.”

“Mmhm,” Otis grunted. “Think it’s yer big moment now.”

“Ah shucks,” Belinda smiled, “he’s weaker than a kitten with the flu right now. Ya don’t even need my magic, I reckon.”

“Might, might not, but I want ya to if yer up for it.”

“Gladly, sugar cube!”

Belinda sauntered over, running her paw along the top of the mount slowly until she reached Ironmaul’s nose. With a gentle poke on the nose, she scratched her claw across the bridge of his muzzle and slowly began to chant.

Ironmaul closed his eyes as the whispers of the vixen began to dance around his ears. The words were incomprehensible but carried a beckoning tone to them, urging Ironmaul to speak.

The wolf felt words grow on the tip of his tongue and he wanted to speak, despite the shame overcoming him, but he did not know what to say.

“What…” the arcane words suddenly became clear, “...does Heidrun want?”

“Carrot cake…” Ironmaul’s mouth opened and the words spilled out.

“The hell?” Otis exclaimed.

“Carrot cake…” Ironmaul spoke with a dead tone, “...she wants carrot cake for dessert.”

“Belinda, don’t mean to tell ya how to do yer job but…” Otis cleared his throat, “...ya might wanna be more specific.”

The fox sighed, “Subtle art just ain’t appreciated anymore!”

Clenching her palm around Ironmaul’s skull, Belinda sent a jolt of electricity across the wolf and demanded, “Why did Heidrun send you?”

Ironmaul resisted for only a hot second at most, unable to affirm himself with even a single posturing word in his thoughts. The truth spilled out.

“She sent me here to…” Ironmaul was about to mouth the word kill but found himself unable to spew his version of the truth under the power of Belinda’s magic, “...to talk with ya and get ya to join her.”

“Seems like ya had a bit of bloodlust in ya fer that.”

“Yes,” Belinda’s voice carried a song, “why were ya sneaking around?”

“I…” Ironmaul licked his lips, “...wanted to show her how tough I was.”

“And what does Heidrun have planned for her gang? What did she want us for?

“She wanted ya to join because of that Lyc…Lyca…wolf cum ya’d been selling. Wants it fer us so we can make a power play on the city.”

“Good boy,” Belinda broke the spell and rubbed her paw across the wolf’s head, prompting him to whine happily.

Ironmaul heard Otis open up the panel on the mount and shake the jar around, “Go on an’ take yer share. I’ll clean our little puppy up.”

“Sure ya can handle him?”

“Don’t worry, he ain’t gonna cause trouble an’ Al can back me up if he does.”

“And what about Heidrun?” Belinda stretched her arms behind her back. “She’s after us now and sure ain’t gonna just give up.”

Rubbing his chin, Otis looked over at his coffee mug and lost himself for a ponderous moment.

“Think I got a bit ah muscle I can call,” Otis grinned, showing off his teeth. “But lemme take care of this first, you go on ahead.”

“Sure thing!” Belinda exclaimed, followed by the sound of her stepping out of the barn.

There was a moment of silence where Ironmaul could focus on nothing but his shame, but that silence was broken by Otis whispering in his ear.

“Ya heard me, get up.”

Ironmaul didn’t move an inch. His muscles were limp and he was too demoralized to get up.

“Don’t wanna bath? Fine…”

Otis wrapped his grip around Ironmaul’s scruff and hoisted him up like a cub being carried by its mother.

Ironmaul opened his eyes to see him floating along, dangling from the horse’s grip much like he had been before on the ropes. He was carried down the stable stalls, catching a glimpse of the coyote in one stall tying himself up, before being thrown onto the damp ground of the last stall.

“Alright, you stink,” Otis picked up a hose and aimed the nozzle at the wolf. “Brace yerself.”

Water rushed against Ironmaul’s face and he snapped his mouth uncontrollably before the jet lowered, rinsing his chest.

There was little more humiliating to a wolf than having their scent washed away by someone else.

Otis grabbed a soap bottle and leaned forward, squirting it along the wolf’s chest fur. Pushing Ironmaul onto his back without resistance, Otis began to rub the soap along his belly, to which the wolf did nothing more than gently kick his legs.

When Otis’ hand reached the wolf’s cock, which was still unsheathed, he gave it a few teasing strokes.

“Seem like yer ready fer more, huh?”

The horse stroked his cock a few more times playfully and Ironmaul whimpered as a sudden orgasm shook him, followed by a few more shots of semen that spurted onto the ground.

“Wow…” Otis whistled, “...didn’t expect ya to be that weak now.”

Neither did Ironmaul. Even at his lowest today he felt somewhere there was an Alpha still lurking within him.

That was dashed forever. This was the final ego death of his delusions of being an Alpha.

He was little more than a pet now, there was no point to being anything else.

“Now then,” Otis stood up and pointed the nozzle down at the wolf. “Give yerself a scrub and wash that musk away.”

Ironmaul complied with a pitiful whine, rubbing his pads along his slick shaft and wiping the cum away. Once the soap had been sufficiently lathered, Otis turned the hose on full blast and covered Ironmaul in a stream of water.

The wolf sat there, huddled on the ground as he was sprayed like an animal. He was wet, humiliated, and weak.

And there was nothing he could do now.

“Ironmaul has not returned, Grimjaw?”

Heidrun snapped her fingers and a small wisp of fire danced in the air before her in circles before landing in the thin pipe pinched between her fingers. The fire puffed away, leaving only a few embers glowing in the cup of the pipe. The bovine put the pipe to her lips and inhaled before blowing smoke across her desk.

The black wolf before her coughed, covering his nose and bowing slightly. Heidrun didn’t smoke normally but playing with her underling’s excessive sense of smell was a good way to show who was in charge.

“Uh, yes boss,” the wolf coughed again, his brown eyes beginning to water. “You think he’s dead?”

“Doubtful,” Heidrun rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair, looking back at the curtained cage in the corner of the room. “Broken perhaps, but not dead.”

“Ironmaul’s the toughest wolf around, no way is he broken!” the wolf barked excitedly before catching Heidrun’s gaze and tucking his tail between his legs. “Uh…unless you really think so, boss.”

“The most solid one is the more dramatic the shattering,” Heidrun rested her palms on her swollen udders beneath her purple robe. “Consider that a lesson any so-called Alpha should learn.”

Flattening his ears against his head, the wolf lowered his muzzle.

“Now then, you had other news?”

Perking his head up, the wolf began to speak, “Remember those rumors about that rich wolf visiting that horse for a special procedure?”

“Yes, go on.”

“Everard Cavendish.”

Heidrun raised her brow.

“You are certain?” she asked.

“One hundred percent,” the wolf smiled. “We’ve been sniffing around town, following some sources and they’re all pointing to him.”

“Imagine that,” Heidrun crossed her arms. “Any hard evidence?”

“Working on it. You thinking blackmail?”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things, you need not worry your head about it,” Heidrun looked over at the red curtain once more. “Pieces are in play. Checkmate is near.”

“Uh…” the wolf tilted his head, “...you wanna play checkers, boss?”

Shutting her eyes, Heidrun rubbed the side of her brow, already fearing she made a mistake letting this one wolf have the privilege of meeting with her. Ironmaul was not bright but he could at least understand a very basic metaphor, even if the wisdom of it eluded him.

“No,” Heidrun opened her eyes, “I’m about to make a big power play in the city and have created just the weapon to pull it off.”

“Like a new gun?”

Pinching her eyes shut, Heidrun realized she had definitely made a mistake choosing the wolf. At the same time however, she could not simply shoo him out of the room and never invite him back again.

She had to show off her creation.

“Behold!” she announced, snapping her fingers.

A flash of lightning crackled across Heidrun’s fingers followed by a gale of wind. The red curtain fluttered, flying off across the room just before the lights flickered off, casting the room in darkness.

A heavy thump echoed through the pitch black room, followed by another, and another…

The lights came back on and Grimjaw stared in horror across the room, his fur hackles raised.

“My weapon, my beautiful new weapon…”

Heidrun motioned towards the corner. Standing in front of the open cage was a creature both alien and familiar to Grimjaw. It had a wolf’s face and a heavy muscled torso, but beneath where its thighs would be was a four-legged body that ran parallel to the ground with rippling leg muscles, similar to a horse’s.

Gray and brown fur ran along the creature’s coat, fluttering in the magical wind that still swept through the room. The creature stepped forward, his four paws thumping on the ground as he circled around to the front of Heidrun’s desk.

“Thunderbane!” Heidrun cackled, clutching at her udders.

“Th-thunderbane!?” Grimjaw gasped. “W-what happened to you?”

“I’ve been made better,” the creature boasted, “stronger, smarter, bolder…”

Grimjaw couldn’t help but look at the large member and testicles dangling between Thunderbane’s hind legs.

“...Larger…”

“And now,” Heidrun announced, sweeping her arms, “no one will stop us. That horse will learn and rue the day he dared meddle in our affairs! He will be humbled, he will be shamed, he will-”

“I’m gonna fuck him?” Thunderbane interrupted bluntly.

Sighing, Heidrun clutched at her brow. A dull migraine was beginning to grow.

“I’m gonna fuck him, right?” Thunderbane repeated, wagging his tail.

This was only a small irritant, Heidrun told herself. A small step towards consolidating power in the city. She could put up with these wolves for some time more, she needed their muscles, not their brains.

But if only they would appreciate her flair for the dramatics and not interrupt it with their baser needs!

“Yes, Thunderbane,” Heidrun forced a smile. “You’re going to fuck him.”

Thunderbane roared with laughter followed by a triumphant howl that rattled the very foundation of the building. Heidrun cackled wickedly, already imagining her total victory.

Grimjaw laid on the ground, showing his belly in submission. No doubt the rest of the gang heard the howl and all knew there was a new Alpha in town. A time of ritual submission was coming as Thunderbane would consolidate his power and crush all rivals, securing himself on his brother’s former throne.

A new day had come and woe to all who stood in the new Alpha’s way.