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Out West, Nobody can hear you Shrink

By: Shalmendo

© 2015

For: Lawliet (Chaoscomm)

Silver C was a typical Western outlaw, having committed several crimes and atrocities across Texas. Posters offering a reward for his capture were being posted back there, and he had moved to Arizona in an attempt to keep ahead of reputation. Today he was riding into a town called Winslow, which looked like a railroad town. It wasn't that big, but probably served some purpose to the railroad company, which turned out to be Atlantic and Pacific Railroad. The town was typically dusty this afternoon, and he rode in on his tired out horse, sighing softly as he yanked the reins to shore it up next to the noisy saloon. Climbing down, he adjusted his duster, and straightened his hat. He sighed, happy to be standing on his own two paws instead of rocking on the horse like he had been for countless hours. He didn't want to start any trouble just yet, being rather worn out, so he headed straight into the saloon.

It was a typical saloon, noisy, rowdy, and full of thirsty men looking to relax after a long day. Nobody really paid any attention as he entered, a good sign for him. Nobody knew he was dangerous yet. Since the town wasn't expecting trouble, the Sheriff wasn't hanging around with a rifle either, another good sign. He sauntered over to the bar and leaned against it tiredly, half yawning. The bartender, a prim looking wolverine, stepped over, "Thirsty?" he gruffed. The Coyote nodded, "Yeah...gimmie a shot of whiskey." It was quickly poured but the bartender kept his hand over the glass and looked at him expectantly, the Coyote sighed and dug in his pockets, putting out a few coins, "here...that should be enough for a few." The bartender nodded and left the bottle as he went off to take care of some other customers. He drank the Whiskey down, enjoying the harsh flavor of it washing down his throat, "Thank god for Whiskey" he muttered, filling the shotglass up once again and drinking it down. He passed some time in this manner, eyeing the patrons come in and leaving, getting a feel for what kind of pickings are available. His attention was distracted by a boisterous voice shouting outside the Saloon, but not in an aggressive manner. He smirked as he picked up the bottle and wandered over to the entrance to peer out at what he thought was a snake oil salesman. If anyone was a worse crook then he was, it was them.

He wandered out to take a look at the ramblings of an idiot trying to sell fake medicine to more idiots. Instead he saw a tall, and dangerously handsome, Bull wearing a top hat and a bright purple cape on top of his waistcoat. "..put that right in the bag dear, tie it up tight. There you go! How many of you believe that that coin is so secure inside the bag that it would be impossible to remove it without untying it first? All of you, I'm sure! But before your very eyes this is going to happen, right before your very eyes. Even as she holds this bag, a little bit of genuine magic is going to pull that coin right through it, without even making a hole!" The Coyote jostled a bit for some position, getting a look at what was going on. A young lady was holding a dangling bag, presumably containing a coin she had just put into it, and the Bull was making grand and wild gestures towards it with a wand, talking about how he was going to pull the coin out without opening it. He smirked, knowing that was impossible. The magician Bull gesticulated and directed the young woman to look at the pocket of her dress. She reached in and pulled out a coin, and gasped. Apparently it hadn't been there before. The Bull then told her to open the bag and look inside, which she did. She found the bag empty, even though she had placed the coin inside of it and tied it herself. There was some applause, and coins were tossed into the Bull's hat, being presented for tips.

The bull drew attention to a folding card table and set down three cups on it. The coyote smirked, knowing this was some kind of shell game type scam. He watched to see who would get suckered into it, The bull was saying, "One penny for a bet, see if you can spot the ball!" The Coyote smirked more, watching a young man put in a penny, and become mystified by the bull's careful handling of the cups and balls to the point he couldn't guess the proper cup, the bull grinned, "let me tell you what...pick another two cups." Since there were only 3 total, the young man picked the others, only to find that the ball had disappeared entirely. It turned out that the ball had magically migrated behind the young man's ear. The coin was returned, since the ball had left the cups. Apparently it was just part of the entertainment and not really a bet. But it did produce another round of coins into the bull's top hat, which he noticed magically emptied out as he put it back on his head.. The coins didn't drop out like one would expect. He swigged from his bottle and booed at the bull who was setting up another illusion, this time a card trick. The bull, noting the boo, invited the Coyote up, "Come forth, sir, give this deck a good shuffle!" The deck was handed to him, and he shuffled it a bit before rudely dropping all the cards onto the floor in a pile, "What is this crap?" The bull paused for a moment before pulling another deck from somewhere, "No matter sir, shuffle again." The coyote just dropped the cards directly without trying to shuffle them this time, "You know, you stink at this. My grandma did better with the got your nose trick." The bull snorted, he'd heard hecklers before, but they usually shouted from the back of the crowd where they were anonymous, not brazenly ruined an illusion like this, "It's not for everyone, sir." He turned and tried to engage someone else with a different illusion, but the Coyote was persistent, "Who heard of a bull doing tricks like this anyway, I'd expect it from a Fox, not a big guy like you." This comment elicited chuckles from the crowd. "I bet you couldn't trick yourself out of a paper bag you big dumb bull. What's more, I bet you got a teeny little pecker the size of my thumb!" The Coyote grinned, enjoying insulting the big bull. The bull glared at him, "You wanna strip me out of my clothes and find out, darlin?" The Coyote paused, "what are you a man lover?" The bull just smiled. Feeling rather uncomfortable now, as the crowd was now chuckling at HIM, he snorted and drank the rest of his whiskey before walking away, fist clenched. He heard the bull make a dismissive comment, which set the crowd laughing. He grumbled as he went to look for a hotel or something.

Later, the sun had set, and the Coyote waited in a shadow, looking for a good mark. He didn't have enough for a hotel, so he decided to 'earn' it through mugging a few townsfolk. It was fairly simple, a knife to the throat in the dark usually was enough for most people to hand over their money and run away without seeing him. At least at first. It was this same racket that that had gotten him wanted in Texas. He figured he should save up for a gun. he could use one. He spotted the bartender that had given him the whiskey before, and saw he had a large pouch with him. He figured it must be from the day's takings and he was going to take them home and deposit them in the bank in the morning. Robbing a bank would be great, he thought, but he'd need a gun at least, and if he got that pouch he could probably afford one! He licked his lips and wiggles his nose in anticipation. He crouched there, waiting for the wolverine to come closer. After a few minutes the Bartender was quite close and the Coyote got his attention by groaning and making hurt noises. The Bartender paused and squinted into the dark. The Coyote mumbled 'augh...help me...' in a hurt tone, causing the Wolverine to walk closer, searching for the person who needed help. He lured the Wolverine into the alleyway through this method, then once he got close enough, pulled his knife out and aimed to get it on the man's neck. As he silently approached closer, he suddenly felt something beat down against the back of his neck. He was out like a light.

An indeterminable time later, he woke up ,feeling sore on the back of his head. He grunted and sat up, rubbing at his neck. "The fuck just happened..." He grumbled as he felt around as he sat up. He realized he was on a cot, and as he stood up and felt around the room, he realized that there were iron bars on one side. "God dammit!" he realized he had been captured by the law finally. But they shouldn't have known he was coming! He grumbled and explored around inside the cell, apparently there was a lantern with oil in it, and after a bit more searching he found some matches, which he used to light it. As he turned the lantern up, he saw the cell was indeed a prison cell. He growled and shoved at the door, which easily slid open. So easily in fact he fell onto his face and nearly dropped the lamp. "The fuck.." he muttered, getting up and dusting his fur off. He paused, then looked down at himself, realizing he was nude. "Fuck did they do with my clothes!" he said loudly, looking in his cell again but finding no sign of them. He grumbled as he made his way out to where the Sheriff was probably sitting, but found the room empty, aside from the expected furniture. He opened the desk and looked in the filing cabinet, but couldn't find his clothing anywhere. He growled, thinking this was some kind of weird, elaborate prank. He tried to open the door but found it locked. He peered out a window to shout but stopped dead as he saw what was outside. Outside the barred window, he sees a gigantic room. He stared in disbelief as the distant door on the other side of the room opened and a bull stepped in. After a minute he recognized the bull as being the one he had heckled earlier. The bull calmly set some things down and walked over to the building he was in, looming up hugely. The naked coyote gasped as the massive bull looked seemingly right at him. Instinctively he hid behind the desk, panting. Next thing he knew, the wall pulled back, revealing the handsome bull staring down at the room, "Hiding in there are you?" Came a loud voice, deeper then he remembered. Without much warning he found himself being lifted upwards by the bull's huge fingers, giving a surprised 'yeeee!'. The bull smirked and put him down on his desk, the tiny coyote looking rather adorable at that size, like a doll.

The coyote growled and beat against the fingers before the Bull dropped him onto the hard wood surface. "You're such a naughty little thing." The bull chuckled. The coyote responded with a "Fuck you!" That only made the bull smirk. The bull sat down in front of the coyote, glaring at him for a moment, before reaching down and doing something. A few moments later the Coyote gasped as two gigantic feet thumped down in front of him, broad soles exposed to him. "Get rubbin' you little runt." Came the order from above, but the Coyote replied with a "screw you, horny bastard!" Apparently that was the wrong answer as the Bull simply leaned over and grabbed him again, "Tsk, things aren't looking too good for you Outlaw." Before dropping him on the floor. The coyote landed in a heap, and grunted, trying to get up but found one of those feet quickly thumping down ontop of him. The scent was incredible. He thought his own feet smelled bad when he took his boots off before going to bed, but the bull's meaty sole pushing down on him smelled like 50 pairs of heavily used boots, the scent making him gag. The bull took little pity on the tiny Coyote and pushed his foot down strongly against him, making the Coyote's body give him a massage passively. The Coyote wasn't having a good time as the bull's toes played over his face, forcing some sweat and grime into his mouth. The taste was foul and salty, as well as sour, the bull must have been working all day next to the saloon in those boots he was wearing. The grime tasted worse than the sweat, being bunches of gunk that had built up from in the boots and between the toes. It was like getting mouthfulls of foot encrusted dirt. Above, the bull groaned, finding this quite pleasurable. He opened his pants, letting his massively growing erection out, and started stroking himself, not that the little Coyote knew anything about it. All the Coyote cared about was the huge foot pinning him down and making air scarce. All he cared about was how the foot was shifting and grinding against him like he was some kind of a toe toy. Speaking of toes, they were practically assaulting him with their size and weight, and their intense odor and flavor. It was forced up his nose, and into his mouth as he struggled. He tried biting, but that didn't even seem to make any difference at all, and by this time he was getting weak. He started to just lay there, feeling incredibly lethargic from the lack of air, when the foot pulled away, letting him take in a huge lungful of fresh-ish air that he was incredibly grateful for. That didn't last too long, because right after he had obtained that precious air, he found something hot landing on him. Following the heat was this incredibly sticky feeling like molasses had just been dumped on him from a pot, but it wasn't sweet. Some of it made it's way into his mouth, and he found it was incredibly salty. In fact, it tasted like semen! He rolled over to look up at the huge bull, seeing the bull grinning as he was toying with his dick, "ahh yeah...that was great!" the bull said down to him, "But I have one more job for you. I forgot to eat dinner, so...." The Coyote found himself being picked up again and pulled up to the bull's big nose, a moment later the lips parted and he found himself staring into a cavern of wet flesh and threads of saliva. The coyote started struggling but he couldn't do anything as he was unceremoniously tossed into that map and it tipped upwards. He slid down the bumpy tongue, trying to grab onto something, but found that all of the surfaces were too wet for him to gain purchase on. Giant teeth flashed by, then he found flesh gripping at his feet and pulling him in deeper. A loud sound echoed around him as the tongue suddenly shoved him back and down into a pit of blackness and the next thing he knew, he was in a tunnel of flesh.

The coyote struggled wildly, gasping and clawing as best he could, but the throat had him and it dragged him down mercilessly into the depth of the bull's body. On the way he heard a loud thumping noise that was double up, ba-bump, ba-bump...he realized it was the bull's heart. Suddenly, he felt it tighten below him and he stopped for a moment. Perhaps it was over, he thought. But he thought too soon as it opened and he found himself free falling down into a pit filled with water. Unfortunately it wasn't just water...he found himself tripping on something, and his hands came upon a round shape, with two holes...and..a jaw. He gasped, realizing he had just found the skull of another victim of the bull's stomach, and a harsh sign of what was going to happen to him. The air was unbreathable, smelling of vomit, acids, and other nasty things, like bubbling flesh. He realized he could feel his own flesh bubbling, and his fur was rapidly falling off. He couldn't see in the darkness but he was quickly getting weak as his body started to tingle. Pleasantly at first, but it turned into a stinging pain quickly, as it ate through his flesh. He spent an untold amount of time, listening to the distant thumping of the bull's heart, his flesh melting away. At some point he stopped feeling any pain, but he wasn't sure if it was because he was losing his skin, or he was just falling unconscious.

The bull yawned, "Little bastard." he smirked as he picked between his teeth with a toothpick, and drank some whiskey from a bottle he kept in his desk.