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Whistling Dixie

Sneak Peek

“These fucking deadlines man," San yawned, the boar stretching in his cubical. “I hate that we have so much extra work after last month's layoffs."

“It's just the way the wind blows," Ruby, the old bulldog lady said while adjusting her glasses on her pearl chain. “I'm just glad they didn't sack me. I'm up for retirement soon and I'd like my portfolio to do a bit better before handing the reigns over to you youngin's."

“Ruby, you think anyone born after the invention of dirt is a 'youngin'," San rolled his eyes, cracking his fingers before typing away at his desk, his neighbor telling him how it is. “Though I'm glad we got some fresh blood coming in this month. It fucking blows that they were hired externally and we got to expend the man power to train them."

“Not like you should care, you're the one training them," Ruby shot back. “The rest of us need to pick up your slack and theirs."

“Don't worry honey bunch," San smirked, his tusks gleaming in the fluorescent light. “I'll be sure to train them as quickly as I can so they can get to digging into the reports like we are."

“So we'll expect delays, huh?"

“You bet your ass there will," San chuckled. “Getting paid to read a power point is my ideal job."

“Well, can't blame ya," Ruby shrugged. “I did the same thing when I trained you."

“Yeah, and I appreciated every second of it," San smirked. “Though I'm going to have to make up some fun excuses as to why I go off script."

“There's the way we want it done on paper, and then there's the way we actually get it done." Ruby's eyes were blocked by the glow of her screen on her glasses, her acrylic nails clicking away. “Let's be honest here, San. You first teach them the real way, then tell them to forget everything and teach them the right way. That's how I made it work for you."

“Oh, that makes sense. I don't even need to make any new slides. I'll just tell them how to really do stuff." San chuckled. “Ruby, you're an evil genius."

“San," Ruby pulled away from her computer to lower her glasses and look him in the eye. “We work for an insurance company. If I'm finding new ways to suck money out of this company for less, then I'm doing God's work." She pushed her glasses back up and rolled back to her desk with a sly grin. “You go whip the fresh blood into shape. I can handle this."

“You're a rockstar Ruby!" San chuckled, standing up from his desk after saving his documents. San wasn't the tallest guy, but he wasn't the shortest either. When he stood, his head was easily past the cubical dividers, though barely. He wore a simple white shirt and a black tie, very sleek and stylish, though his scruffy hair and sideburns showed the boar's more relaxed nature, despite how done up his outfit was.

The boar trotted his way to the office rooms where security would have deposited the new recruits and he readied himself with a fresh cup of coffee. The young boar strode down the hall with purpose, steam rolling from his mug as his hips swayed and his thick cheeks shifted in his fitted slacks. He opened the door and spun into the room to close it behind him, expertly handling his coffee so not even a drop spilled.

“Welcome new recruits!" San smiled, setting his mug down and took his first look at the fresh meat. He expected to see a few faces looking back, but instead there was only one. “Huh, I thought there would be more of you. You are the new hires, right?"

The only person in the room was a donkey, his hair long and wavy. The sun damaged brown locks were still well maintained and silky, but kissed by the sun in a way that made the darker undertones more prominent. He wore a new hat that was given out at orientation with the company's logo blazed across the front. His thick mane of hair barely held back by that cap as it spilled out of it, his eyes shaded by his locks as they swept behind him. The guy had light stubble like he hadn't shaved for a couple days, the dark hair adding to the cut of his jaw, the powerful muscles of his neck lashed down onto his collarbone, his Adam's apple on full display as he laid back in his chair. He wore a white button down and tie, but the tie had been loosened to hang limply around his neck, the top few buttons undone to show the man's thick cleavage and a healthy amount of chest hair. The cuffs on his sleeves had been rolled up to expose his powerful forearms, his hands lost in his mane of hair as he used them as a headrest. The pits of his shirt were clean apart from a small stain of natural moisture, his thick arms threating to pop the seams of his shirt. His hooves were up on the table, the two onyx hooves gleamed in the natural light coming from the windows, the bottoms graced with a little dirt from his walk in.

“The other guy dipped," the donkey grunted, gently rocking back and forth, his powerful legs flexing in his slacks as he stayed relaxed and cool. “He didn't seem like he could cut it here anyway."

“I hardly think that this job is—"

“Yeah, I bet you don't, tusks," a sly grin cracked that chiseled jaw as he sat up, his hooves leaving a light scrape on the table. “Can't believe they got a hog on the line here."

“Excuse me?" San cocked a brow.

“You heard me," his grin widened revealing a golden tooth. “Why do they have a pig doin' work that requires a brain?"

“What the hell did you just say to me?" San set down his coffee, really taking in this new hire. It was hard to tell how old he was, but he was young, his voice was gravellier than he'd expect, but maybe he was a smoker.

“Seriously? You're supposed to be the one teaching me how to do my job here? This isn't the first office I've worked in, but it is the first one with a hog doing more than grunt work."

San scowled. Who does this guy think he is!

“What's your name?"

“Shouldn't you know that already if you're here to teach me?" His smug grin never faltered.

San felt anger brewing deep in his chest, he pulled the folio that was on the table and found the class roster.

“Wesley Reed?" San slapped the folio back on the table.

“Yo," the donkey lifted a hand and signaled with two fingers that he was present.

“Well, Wesley, if you think I'm going to stand for that kind of talk, I'm going to—"

“What?" Wes stood up abruptly, the chair flying out behind him as he got on his hooves. “You're gunna fucking do what?"

Despite his tone being even and smooth, San could hear the threat in Wesley's voice.

“I-I-I'm…" San blinked, that stammer only widening the grin on Wesley's powerful mug.

“Yeah? W-W-What are you going to do?" Wesley mocked his stutter and stepped forward, San stepped back. The wall came to greet San's back, and Wesley wasn't stopping. He moved swiftly and firmly, his arm coming up to rest on the wall above San while glaring down at him. San was cast in the donkey's shadow, completely eclipsed by the massive bigot. He glared down, the cold and confidant eyes gleamed behind those locks and San felt a fleeting moment of fear. Wesley was tall, very tall and wide.

“I asked you a question, Pig," Wesley spat the word pig out, spittle spraying San's face. “What are you going to do about it? Huh?"

“I…I…"

“Gunna call HR? Gunna go to the boss? I doubt that," Wesley gave a little snort, hot streams of breath shot out his nose and lightly sprayed San below.

“I…" San was frozen, a deer in the headlights. No one had ever been so aggressively disrespectful to him. He knew that some people looked down on pigs, but this was so sudden it shook the little boar to his core.

“That's right," Wesley huffed, humor welling up in his throat as a light chuckle. “I ain't known a hog I couldn't tame. You're all the same, but in the end, you just need a little push back into your place."

San's nose could smell something coming from Wesley. His musk was powerful, despite how hard his deodorant tried to mask it, his stink was stronger. It was faint, but he could smell more, his sensitive flat nose picking up on tobacco, leather, and...pure testosterone.

Fear and rage boiled up inside San and he pushed Wesley away, or more like he pushed against him and slid out from under his shadow.

“What the hell is wrong with you?"

“Come on," Wesley smirked. “Don't even try and tell me you didn't get a little hard from that. I could see it in your eyes. You're just like the rest of the little piggys on the farm. You like being pushed back into the dirt beneath a real working man's hoof."

“Are you fucking crazy?" San's jaw dropped. “You're fucking nuts."

“Then why don't you try and prove me wrong, dip stick," Wesley nodded up and swaggered forward.

“What are you doing? Stay away from me," San wasn't afraid, he was just angry. What kind of fucking nutcase did they let past security! Who fucking talks like this?!

Wesley let out a loud whistle, one that was so loud it hurt the pig's ears and caused him to flinch. In that brief moment, the donkey closed the distance between them, his powerful hand coming to cup his loins. San gave a loud squeal and jumped to the side.

“You're not hard?" Wesley cocked his head, his hair bouncing like it defied gravity.

“I…you're…," San's face was beat red, his entire body burning with a mix of embarrassment and shock.

“Oh, I see," Wesley smirked. “You ain't no fucking boar."

San's eyes went wide and he went for the door, half expecting Wesley to stop him. He did something arguably worse.

“Nah uh," Wesley gripped the handle at the same time as San did, his powerful fingers practically crushing the boar's hand. “A gentleman opens the door for a lady."

Wesley's knuckles flexed, San giving a little squeak of pain.

“But you're not a lady, now are you?" Wesley leaned into the boar's ear. “Breeding sows can get the door for themselves."

Wesley let go, San quickly opened the door and briskly walked away. Tears stung at the boar's eyes as he made his way to the elevators to submit his complaint to Human Resources immediately. The last thing he heard before he got in the elevator was a high pitched, ear splitting whistle. San looked out of the closing doors to see the big ass smiling at him, holding his coffee.

“Thanks for the fresh cup, teach! Though next time, I take it black!"

The doors closed before San could even form a coherent thought.

***

“What do you mean we can't get rid of him?!" San shouted.

“Wes has some sort of sway in the company," Randal shrugged, the coyote manager sighed. “Do you have any proof of the things he was saying to you?"

“I didn't think I would need to record my conversation with a new hire," San huffed. “I was just going to teach him the basics and get him ready for data management and calls. How was I supposed to know he's a bigoted piece of shit?!"

“San, please, inside voice," Randal put his hands up.

“No! This is absolutely ridiculous! How come he's not out on his ass right now?!"

“Because he's the only new hire we have," Randal shrugged. “Everyone else didn't pass inspection by the hiring committee, and the other one left as soon as he saw the parking situation."

“Are you serious?" San glared at his boss. “You're keeping him on because there is no one else?"

“Listen, I know it sucks, and I believe you, but…"

“Just forget it Randal," San rolled his eyes. “I'm not going to argue with you if you've already made up your mind. Just find someone else to train him."

“I…actually," Randal had a sheepish look on his muzzle.

“Don't you dare say I have to spend another second alone with that man," San was fuming and huffing.

“I'm not saying that," Randal put his hands up defensively. “All I'm saying is that…you're the only one trained right now to train. I'm not going to let you stay alone with him, but I can at least have someone present at all times. Hell, even I can sit in if you want to. Does that sound good?"

“I better be getting a raise for this bull," San huffed.

“You know raises and compensation are reviewed at the end of the year—"

“Whatever Randy," San waived him off. “Just make sure someone is in the room with me."

“Thank you San," Randy sighed in relief. “You're a life saver."

“Damn right I am," San growled as he got up and left the office, closing the door loudly behind him. “You gaping asshole," San huffed under his breath.

San wanted to slap Randal sometimes, but he also had bills to pay. He decided it wasn't worth it at the time and just proceeded to do business as usual. Though, who doesn't dream of slapping their supervisor from time to time?

The teaching sessions were relatively uneventful going forward, though Wesley insisted on sitting next to the boar. He didn't do anything inherently disrespectful as he trained the ass, but San wasn't entirely sure if the thigh to thigh was intentional, or how he would raise his hand so his pit stink would waft over him as he pointed at the screen. He would interrupt him every once in a while, but it was more on a professional level where he was either asking questions or finishing San's thought for him. San hated to admit it, but Wesley was smart. He picked up on the training quickly, and did so in front of Randal, making him look far more valuable than before.

The training was quicker than San would have hoped, both a blessing and a curse. Sure, he didn't get as large of a break from his regular crushing workload, but he also was able to get away from Wesley quickly enough. At their next team meeting Randal introduced Wesley to the rest of the team.

“Hey everyone," Wesley smirked, tipping his hat and giving that sexy smile that sent enraged shivers down San's spine. “Y'all can call me Wes if you prefer."

Later that day in the breakroom, San was brewing a new pot of coffee when Wesley came in, closing the door behind him.

“Good work out there, Wes," San scowled at the donkey. “You got everyone fooled, huh?"

Wesley walked closer to the boar, coming like he was going to grab the fresh pot of coffee, getting closer like San wasn't there until he was pressed firmly against him, pinning him to the breakroom counter. San froze, his snout pressed up against the donkey's impressive and exposed cleavage. A tight grip on his thigh pulled him closer, San's squeal muffled as he was pressed against that chest.

“Show me some god damn respect, pig," Wesley huffed, his chest puffing out. “Dirty hogs call me Wesley."

San was shocked. Such a night and day difference was jarring. In public he was the perfect gentleman, but in private, a complete brute. Despite wanting to shove him away, San was frozen. The donkey's musk was strong, his powerful hand gripped his tie a little harder, rumpling the silk, the smell of sandalwood and cedar pierced through that musk, no doubt the smell of his conditioner.

Then San felt it, a throb, a powerful and distinct twitch against his hip. He couldn't see it, being pinned as he was, but he could feel it. The burning root of Wesley's virility. It was big, it was hot, and it was hard. He had no idea how a stud like that kept his dick hidden in those slacks, but San knew a monster cock when he felt one. Sure, he could be a size queen, but that was his life at home, not work. The powerful, rhythmic throb of that dick, the warmth of it burning into his side like an iron was causing the boar to sweat. San gulped, his mouth dry as the sneer on Wesley's muzzle shifted to be more of a dark grin.

“Oh, I'm going to have you eating out of my ass before the end of the fucking quarter, I just know it, you dirty pig," Wesley gave another little tug on San's tie, the boar giving a light squeak.

“Hey, why's the door closed?" Someone said, the handle of the breakroom door rattling before opening up.

San blinked, thinking he finally had the brute caught in the act, but in a smooth motion the boar's tie slipped between Wesley's fingers as his hand went up to the cabinet above, his pit in San's face as he took a mug from the cabinet and slipped to the side just as their coworker came inside.

“Hey Vic," Wesley grunted, turning around with the fresh pot of coffee in hand as he poured some for himself. “You coming for a top off?"

“Yeah," the otter smirked, padding his way in. “Why was the door closed?"

“San was teaching me how to make a pot," Wesley's tail flicked behind him, the hairs smacking San like a riding crop and caused the boar to jump with a little tiny squeal. “I guess he just wanted more time with his favorite student."

“Yeah," Victor cocked his head, having heard the office gossip, but extended his cup anyway.

“There ya go," Wesley smirked, pouring the contents into their cup. “Thanks again, teach." Wesley put the pot back in the machine, the thing still dripping fresh coffee. The donkey took the otter by the shoulder and walked him out of the breakroom, talking about last night's game or something. San was left standing there, his eyes wide, his jaw on the floor, and a warmth between his legs.

San shook his head and snorted, the fog dissipating from his mind as he refocused. He simply grabbed a cup of coffee and marched his way back to his desk.

***

Over the next few months there was a momentary murmur of San being a cunt-boy. It was something he opted into recently after years of debating the change. He simply felt better as a cunt-boy, and he wasn't necessarily open about it at work. He wasn't ashamed of it, but he also didn't think it was anyone's business, especially his boss. It wasn't hard for the boar to figure out who spilled the beans, but what proof did he have that it was him? None. As far as everyone knew, he leaked it himself to someone who couldn't be trusted. It burned the boar up inside, but it didn't really change the way anyone looked at him. Maybe some of the girls who thought they had a chance, but they were obliviously desperate to begin with.

So, he figured it was best to avoid Wesley for the foreseeable future. Despite his obvious dislike of the donkey, the giant ass found ways to insert himself into situations with him, but never alone. That was, until late one night.

Wesley was working on a report, his eyes blurry from trying to finish it up. The deadline was for the morrow's opening hour, so he had to finish it up and move it on for processing. He was the only one in the office working that late, even the janitors had left and told him to just turn out the lights. San didn't care much, he could use the overtime, but it didn't make him any less upset about having to stay late.

“God, fuck me," San grunted, looking over the report, sipping his coffee and running the reports again to make sure everything was in alignment and ready to go to marketing.

“What the hell are you doing here so late?"

San let out a little squeal, his fur standing on end as he spun in his chair. Wesley was standing there, his work outfit a little rumpled from a long day, his overcoat slung over his shoulder as he held onto it with two fingers.

“H-How is that any of your business!" San huffed out. “Why the hell are you still here?"

“Came back for my coat," Wesley shrugged, his jacket swaying. “Left it behind and I didn't want it to get any pig grease on it."

“Har-har," San rolled his eyes. “Very funny. Just leave me alone. I ain't got time for your bullshit."

“You really are a wily little sow, ain't cha, teach," Wesley huffed and threw his jacket on the nearest chair. “I know you been avoidin' me."

“Who wouldn't avoid a gaping asshole," San huffed, turning around in his chair to face his work, before he could say anything else though, that ear splitting, hair raising whistle broke the air. How the hell did he do that so loud!

“Don't you look away from me when I'm talking to you, pig," Wesley huffed. San simply rolled his eyes, directing his momentum around to face the donkey.

“What do you want Wesley? Seriously?"

“I don't take kindly to disrespect from little porkers like you," Wesley cracked his knuckles. “I think you need to be reminded just where you belong on the ranch."

Wesley pulled on his belt, the leather cracking as he pulled it off his pants. San didn't even notice him unbuckle it.

“The fuck?!" San went for his phone, but one crack of that belt and the boar recoiled from the stinging on his wrist.

“Don't you be callin' security now, teach. I'm about to learn you something real good," Wesley came forward, lifted his hoof and put it down on San's chair, causing the boar to fall back into it, that dusty hoof pressed against his loins as the chair was pushed back against his desk, causing his knickknacks and desk supplies to rattle and spill over.

“The fuck are you doing!" San shouted, but was quieted when Wesley gripped his tie and used it like a leash.

“Breaking in the breeding stock, the fuck does it look like?"

San was frozen, his heart beating out of his chest, this beast of a man had him pinned, his hoof would be poised to crush a man's nuts if he wanted to, but they both knew that wasn't a problem. In one hand he held San's tie, in the other he held his belt, ready to slap him if he needed.

“What—" San started, but Wesley whistled loud, the sound cutting him off.

“No talkin'," Wesley smirked, his golden tooth gleaming. “Ain't no one caring what comes out of that dick trap. You're a pig, so speak like one."

“What do you even mean—"

Another ear splitting whistle cracked against the boar's eardrums. San simply glared up at the donkey and snorted out, opting to play along.

“Good girl," Wesley rumbled before stepping off the chair and planting his hooves on the ground. “Now, undo my pants, like a good pig."

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