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My story is a cautionary one. I know that now. Up to this point you've probably been thinking to yourself how great it would be to have an adventure like mine, but that's only because you haven't seen how it ends. Sure you may remember that this whole thing started with me waking up in chains, and by now you may be drawing connections to a beautiful leopard who owns a kinky club. Combine easy cash, forbidden sex, and kinky clubs and I'm sure most of you would give your right nut to be me, but the higher you fly the farther you have to fall, and when you play in the underworld, rock bottom can be pretty low. So hear me out before you judge me, and remember that I didn't want any of this, all I wanted was to smoke weed, and watch Bolt with my best friend... oh Vince...

Soooo... you know that feeling when security wakes you up after an orgy in the middle of a crowded dance club and drags you naked across the dance floor and up to the boss's office?...no? Is that just me?... Well... good for you, because as far as feelings go, that one's not great. Neither is the one that comes with being thrown down in the middle of a crowded office/vip lounge, still naked, with six angry looking coyote's staring at you from behind dark sunglasses and shirts decorated with skulls.

Again I had to puzzle at how things that sound like fun when you're horny generally seem unpleasant or downright scary when you're not. Twenty minutes ago, kneeling naked in front of six guys would have had me hard as a rock, but having already taken care of that urge I was now just uncomfortable and incredibly aware of my own nudity.

Looking around the room I counted four security guards, two standing by the door I had been dragged through and one to each side of the desk ahead of me; the six coyote's seated on couches to either side of me, all wearing sunglasses in the dark club; and a big black chair behind the desk that could only belong to the infamous club owner that Kiron had warned me about.

Remember how I said I wasn't feeling so great about this situation? That feeling was quickly developing into full on fear, which was amplified tenfold when two more security guards walked in holding Vince between them and threw him down next to me. We shared a look, and several silent questions passed between us.

What the fuck is going on?

_ Where are your clothes?_

_ Did they see us?_

_ Dude where's the money?_

_ Didn't you leave?_

_ Is that Cum on your face?_

_ SHUT UP!_

To answer his question I looked to my left, where one of the guards that had brought me up here was searching through my pants pockets. He found my wallet and flipped it open, and then he found the envelope full of money, and walked them over to the desk.

The room was eerily quiet as the guard crossed the room, with only the faint bump of base penetrating the near sound proof walls. The security guard placed the wad of hundred dollar bills on the desk and walked back to his post at the door behind me. Sixteen hundred dollars, my whole payday, not to mention the money I still owed Striker for the drugs he had fronted me...shit.

All eyes turned to the chair as it slowly swiveled around and a snow white leopard came into view. He was short compared to the leopard that I had just been getting fucked by, but there was definitely a resemblance, not quite a sibling resemblance, but definitely family. Where Kiron was tall and muscular, this leopard was average height and sleek. His face held none of the good will and joviality that Kiron had radiated, but there was a marked resemblance in his strong jawline and strikingly blue eyes. Even glaring at me as they were I found myself lost in those eyes, but where Kiron's eyes had promised red satin sheets and twilight romance, these eyes demanded respect and told tales of horrors both witnessed and committed.

He was wearing a black suit, tone on tone, with a deep blue tie that brought out his eyes. His hands were steepled in front of his face as he turned his chair around and his brow was furrowed in an angry expression usually reserved for James Bond villains. He fingered over the stack of bills on his desk, eyeing it dispassionately.

"Sixteen hundred, not bad for your second day on the job," his voice was soft and dispassionate. He picked up my wallet and flipped it open, "Kiba? Is it?" He let out a long sigh and settled back into his leather chair, leaning back while he looked Vince and me over. "You have terrible timing kid. Truth be told I don't really mind kids like you selling drugs in my clubs, it's good for business. These ravers get high and they get a Pavlovian association between feeling good and being in my clubs. It makes them want to come back. Makes them pay the door fee and buy drinks and convince their friends to come and do the same".

The leopard reached under his desk and pulled out a crystal glass and a bottle of scotch. "Like I said you just have poor timing". He poured himself a glass and drained it immediately before pouring himself another. "I just finished a deal with my business associates here that gives them exclusive rights to sell narcotics in my establishments". He gestured to the coyote's to either side of me with his glass as he spoke. "Well not 'just' finished. We concluded our negotiations a week ago, and part of that deal was for me to make sure no one else was selling in my clubs". He took another swig of his scotch and gave me a hard stare, letting his words sink in. "It's an ugly business" he continued, " intimidation, and the uglier it is, the better it works". He drained his glass and poured another. "My hope was that if I made a big show of force, rounded up all the dealers, roughed 'em up a bit, and told them never to be seen in my club again, that they would get the picture and I wouldn't be forced to do anything... truly, ugly." He spoke slowly, emphasizing his words and pausing almost dramatically, the whole time staring into his drink rather than looking at me and Vince.

"It almost worked. Most of the dealers were college kids like you that scared easily enough and wouldn't risk their own hides for some measly pocket change. A few, gave me some trouble. Striker was one of them". He looked up from his glass in time to see me perk up at the mention of the black panther. "I see you know him? Figures, your selling his drugs." He set his glass down and stood up behind his desk. "I personally beat the shit out of that punk and told him I never wanted to see him again. All it got me was a face full of bloody spit, but for a week he hadn't shown up so I thought he had wised up". He walked around his desk to stand in front of us his cold dispassionate voice turning steely.

"I showed him mercy by letting him live, and what did he do? He sent you in his place, to sell for him." My body went cold under the scrutiny of those hard blue eyes. He looked left and right before speaking again. "I promised my associates here that they would have exclusive rights, and I can't have little shits like you making a liar out of me".

This is bad...

"Please", I begged, "we didn't know, if you just let us go, we'll never come back I swear".

"You swear?" he mocked, "the problem is Kiba, I believe you. But what's to stop the next hot shot that Striker finds from coming in here and selling under my nose?"

I tried to come up with an answer but was drawing a blank, my mind racing a hundred miles an hour but getting nowhere. I stuttered and my mouth worked silently, hoping that an answer would magically appear. "I.....I....uh..."

"I?....Uh?.... I'll tell you what will stop them", he paused for dramatic effect, "Fear. Fear of ending up like you. Fear of the urban legend that will rise of the drug dealing student who was brutally murdered for selling drugs in a club marked as cartel territory."

My eyes went wide, scanning back and forth across the room as I realized who it was that was sitting on either side of me. The Juarez Cartel.

"Oh now he gets it", the leopard said dramatically spreading his arms theatrically and stepping back from us, like we had been missing the obvious from the start.

I looked over at Vince and we shared another moment of silent understanding.

Were fucked...

"I'll tell you what Kiba," he said, spinning around in a slightly drunken manner before settling his gaze back on me and Vince. "I'll give you one chance to save yourself". He walked right up to me, knelt down in front of me and Vince and looked each of us in the eye in turn.

"Beg", he said, "Beg for your lives, convince these men around you that you should live, that you will do anything to save your miserable lives and if they agree to spare your lives... you'll live".

He stood up and briskly walked back to his desk with a drunken swagger, swaying his arms like he was Captain Jack Sparrow himself before falling into his chair, putting his feet up and taking a long swig from his bottle. The implication of what would happen if we failed to convince them hung heavily in the silent office.

I didn't know where to start. I looked from the leopard draining his bottle of scotch, to the stoic coyotes lining the room, to Vince.

We had a third moment of understanding. This was all on me. Vince was a shit public speaker and if it came down to his words to save our lives we were both dead. He would back my play and go along with anything I said, but it was up to me to get us out of this. Suddenly I wished I had taken my public speaking class more seriously, go figure that the only class I ever got a D in is the one that my life depends on.

I swallowed hard and took one more look around the room, my first words directed at the leopard who had now drained half of his fifth of scotch. "Do they speak English?" God I hope they do, or else I might as well take my chances diving through that glass window and freefalling two stories.

"Yup", the leopard replied offhandedly, "good luck kid".

I scanned my audience for a third time, trying to judge their stoic faces, trying to see anything that I could use to my advantage. They were six Coyotes, all in colorful button up, long sleeve shirts, all wearing sunglasses in the dimly lit club.

_ They don't seem like the type to show pity, they won't care that you're a student or that you have a mother or sisters. You have to prove to them that you are useful, that keeping you alive is in their best interest. Sell it, or your dead._

_ No pressure..._

"Hi", I started in a lame and shaky way. "My name is Kiba and I'm a student at USC". I continued to scan the room slowly as I talked, focusing on a single set of sunglasses at a time for a few seconds before moving on. "This is my friend Vince; he's also a student at USC, as well as a member of Kappa Tau, a national fraternity". I took a deep breath before continuing, trying my best to stay calm and summoning an image of Allen Shore to guide my words. "I'm telling you this not so you'll know that people will miss us if we should disappear, I'm sure you have ways to deal with that and from what I've been told, publicity is kind of the point. I'm telling you this because what you may not have considered is that we are established in a quite considerable economic market; USC having a student population of over 40,000 and Kappa Tau having established branches in similarly sized universities across the country. This means we have access to a quite considerable market that, not to be racist, you don't fit into".

I paused my speech to gauge reactions, hoping for a nod or an inkling of interest, but the cartel gave nothing away and I had no choice but to continue.

"If one of you walked onto USC campus you would stand out like a sore thumb. The elitists that make up its student body can smell how much money someone has as well as their family heritage and quite frankly they are the kind of furs that look down on all immigrants as beneath them". Again I paused, realizing I was basically insulting my executioners with every word I spoke. "Again, I'm not saying this to be insulting, merely to point out the fact that you are cut off from a market of over 40,000 of the state's richest furs who are living off of daddy's money and don't give a shit about price tags. If you could get a dealer into that culture, a dealer that belonged there, you could make a serious profit. Forget ten dollars a pill, these idiots would pay twenty, thirty even fifty dollars a pill and why not? It's not their money that they're spending, its daddy's money, money that they get for free and have no problem spending on a good time. All you need is a dealer they can relate to, a dealer that won't scare them off, a dealer that is already one of them". I let my words sink in until the silence became unbearable.

"We are those dealers. We're students, we're dealers, and the only problem you have with us is that we're selling someone else's drugs in your territory. We can change that; we can sell your drugs in our territory, territory that until now has been beyond your reach. All you have to do is say yes and you will gain a market four times the size of this one". I said gesturing out the glass window to my right.

"We want to live", I concluded, "and we'll do anything for it".

I fell silent, praying that I had gotten their attention. Please God get me out of this...

The room was silent for a long time, and each passing second made me surer that they were going to reject my proposal. None of the cartel spoke a word, but they all looked to one of their number and I knew who was in charge. He was a grey coyote of middle age. He was wearing a red shirt with a silver skull on his left breast. His hair was slicked back like an 80's wall street giant, and he rose to his feet when he spoke, coming to stand over me and Vince.

"So you want to work for El Cartel?" he said, his voice low, and his words measured. "El Cartel doesn't hire people, El Cartel Owns people. If you work for me, that makes you my biiiiitch", he drew out the word, emphasizing everything it implied and curling his lip into a snarl of contempt as he said it. "Do you want to be my Bitch? Little fox?"

I looked at Vince for a final time and the look on his face told me everything. He didn't want to be here anymore. He wanted to go home and watch _Bolt_and forget this had ever happened. He wanted to see his mom again and tell her he loved her and have her cook spaghetti for him, he wanted to be anywhere but here, he didn't want to be the Cartel's Bitch. I echoed his feelings, whole heartedly, but above all of that I didn't want to die.

"Yes." I said looking the grey Coyote in his eyes, "I want to be your bitch. We both want to be your bitches".

He smirked, his hand reaching for his zipper and lowering it with a slow deliberate motion, "Prove it".

_ Saw that coming..._

*sigh...I've fucked eight guys tonight, what's one more? At least now I can say it's to save a friends life, Please god let this work.

Just pretend it's someone else. It won't be that bad...

_ OoohhHHH! Imagine it's the Aussie! He's got a knotted cock, just close your eyes and you won't be able to tell the difference!_

I closed my eyes and pictured the smiling face of the Aussie, my mouth watered as I remembered the taste of the Aussie's cum in my mouth. Blindly I lifted my nose to his crotch, guided by the strong smell of male. I nuzzled into the opening in his pants and inhaled deeply; the musky smell washed over me and sent shivers down my spine. He didn't smell like the Aussie had, his musk was stronger, like he hadn't showered lately, and beneath it all was the strong smell of Coyote.

I focused hard on my mental image of the Aussie, letting my sense of denial do the rest. I reached over my head to unbuckle his belt while my tongue darted out to lick over the sheath that was so close to my face.

He swelled as I licked and I pictured the Aussie smiling down on me as I went. I pulled his pants down to give me better access. His tip extended from its hiding place and I focused my efforts on it, short quick licks with my rough feline tongue.

I heard a sharp intake of breath and a hand found the back of my head, pulling me closer while his hips thrust forward, his tip extending inch by inch into my mouth. His shaft grew too long for me to lick his tip, so I had to change tactics, sucking hungrily at it while rubbing my tongue along the bottom of his shaft. He moaned, and I pictured the Aussie leaning his head back and moaning to the sky while I sucked his cock.

I smiled at the thought, completely lost in my fantasy and able to forget the true circumstances of my situation. All that mattered at that moment was the canine shaft in my mouth, and the hand on the back of my head telling me I was doing a good job.

My submissive streak brought my spent shaft back to life, throbbing weakly from its resting place as I sucked the cock of the Cartel leader.

I bobbed up and down on his shaft, twisting my head with each bob to add to his sensation. He moaned while I sucked, a deep low sound that my mind instantly translated into Australian. His fingers worked into my head fur, scratching my scalp encouragingly. His fingers sent shivers down my spine.

He was fully erect now, standing a respectable eight inches plus a two inch knot. I was working his shaft with one hand and his balls with another while my mouth sucked on and ministered to his tip. His breaths were getting airy when he called out, "You too kid, get over here and suck my balls".

For a moment I was confused, so wrapped up in my fantasy that I forgot Vince was even there. I almost bent over to switch my mouth to his sac when I felt another body crawl up beside me. I opened my eyes to see Vince sliding up beside me, his face twisted with disgust and reluctance. He gave me a pleading look, like I could get him out of it. All I could do was give him a weak nod and go back to sucking the shaft in my mouth, my hand on his nuts offering them to Vince .

He whined pathetically and grimaced but bent over and maneuvered under the grey furred coyote. I watched him close his eyes tightly and stick his tongue out, reluctantly running it over the dangling orbs in front of him.

I couldn't help but moan watching Vince lick the dangling sac, his tongue lifting them slightly with each pass then letting them swing before coming in for another taste. It was obvious vince wasn't enjoying it, but I still found myself rock hard at the sight.

"hehe That's it Bitch", the grey Coyote laughed, "Now take them in your mouth".

Vince whined again, but obeyed, turning over for a better angle and pulling the coyote's pants down to the floor and sitting on his but to angle his face up between the cartel leader's legs. The angle put his nose right under the coyote's tail and I didn't envy him the smell. He gave one last shuddering whimper, then opened his mouth wide and raised hismouth around the Coyote's scrotum, trying his best not to touch them as he did.

The Coyote shivered, thrusting into my mouth and forcing me to deep throat him, "AAAAhhh, that's it bitch, now close your mouth and suck them". Even though I was fighting not to gag around the coyote's cock, watching Vince close his mouth and suck almost made me cum right then and there.

I had always fantasized about doing something like this with Vince, granted these weren't the circumstances I had hoped for, but it was still exciting...possibly more so. I shivered and felt myself stir while Vince and I worked together to bring the cartel leader to climax.

I couldn't resist, still sucking on the shaft in my mouth I reached out to stroke Vince's stomach, sliding my hand under his shirt to feel his abs. He shivered at my touch and sucked harder at the coyote's scrotum, my touch calming some of the fear he must have been feeling. In turn, he reached a hand up to stroke my own sac, making me gag around the Coyote and moan onto his shaft.

"Looks like the sluts are warmed up boys!" the leader called out to his crew, "Who's up for some Pussy!?"

With a collective cheer the Coyotes that had been sitting silently around the room stood up and moved in on us. Strong hands lifted me off the floor with a startled YELP! And carried me back to the couch where I was set on the lap of the burliest coyote of the group. Two more were standing in front of me and all of them were taking off their clothes. Hands from below me lifted me off the male I was sitting on long enough for him to slide off his pants and set me down on his fully erect maleness.

Apparently they had all been enjoying the show because there wasn't a soft cock in the bunch. I grunted indignantly as I was set onto the thick shaft beneath me and forced down onto it by hands on my shoulder. Thankfully I had already been stretched out or it would have hurt more than it did. As it was I slid smoothly down his shaft and came to rest on his knot, which was still significantly wider than I was ready to take.

One of the males in front of me grabbed me by the hair and forced me down onto his shaft, apparently tired of waiting for his turn. He pushed himself against the back of my throat and started thrusting immediately, leaning over me in his pent up need for release.

His buddies laughed while I gagged for air and the one under me lifted me off his shaft slowly before slamming me against his knot. I screamed when my ring hit his knot and refused to stretch another inch, the sound coming out as a coughing gag against the shaft in my mouth.

I struggled against the male hugging me to his crotch, pushing against him, trying to take a breath I desperately needed, but he wasn't having it. He moaned on top of me, both arms wrapped around my head as he forced himself deeper into my throat, his knot swelling quickly, forcing my jaw wider as it grew.

_ Gotta breath! Why does this keep happening?!?!?!_

_ Calm down, he can't last long at this pace, just hold on._

Luckily I was right, his thrusts picked up speed, his knot swelled wide and he threw his head back in a howl of ecstasy as his knot exploded down my throat! I coughed and gagged violently while the coyote behind me continued to lift me up and down on his cock. His shaft rubbing against my insides with each thrust.

Eventualy the shaft in my mouth withdrew, leaving me to cough violently to clear my throat of coyote cum.

"Oi, Swallow". The male said, lifting my head by my hair to look me in the eyes. I coughed again, taking a second to comprehend what he was asking.

Swallow? Is that Spanish for something?

_ ....nooooo. It's English for swallow the fucking cum in your mouth._

Realization struck and I nodded weakly, swallowing what was left of his load in one gulp before opening my mouth to show it was gone.

"Oi" Came a call from behind me.

I turned to look at the Coyote whose shaft I was sitting on, my eyes glazed and my mind in a submissive fog.

"Turn around, and ride me Chica".

I nodded submissively, giving myself over completely to their commands. I stood up slowly, gasping as I lifted myself off his ten inch shaft, finally popping off of him and turning to face him. Straddling him I grabbed the couch to either side of his head for stability and slowly lowered myself onto his shaft again. I squatted down till I was three quarters of the way down his shaft before shifting to a kneeling position. Raising my eyes to the ceiling I said a silent prayer as I lowered myself the last three inches, Please God just let us get out of this alive.

_ _I could hear Vince whimpering behind me, someone was shouting at him in Spanish but couldn't be sure what they were saying.

I bottomed out against his knot, ten inches of Coyote pressing against my farthest wall. I shivered, and my ring clenched around his girth, waiting for my tail hole to adjust to the size of its newest intruder, before lifting myself up as far as I could and setting myself back down. I went slowly at first, his length making it a long agonizing process, but slowly I built up my speed, bouncing in his lap and panting to the heavens. I felt every inch of his penis as I rode him, the lack of lube caused his penis to burn against my insides, the heat of it painful and soothing all at once.

I heard sounds of protest from behind me, gaging and coughing, and I knew Vince was getting a crash course in deep throat. I tried to see what had happened to Vince, but my view was blocked by a steely black Coyote who just shook his head at me.

"Mira me Chica" commanded the outlaw beneath me and I was forced to turn away. Whatever was happening to Vince, he was on his own.

I looked down at the coyote under me and saw his face was wild with lust. His lips pulled back in a predatory smile and his eyes wide with need. It was hard to meet that gaze and I tried to turn away.

"MIRA ME!" he yelled.

I turned back to meet his angry lusty gaze, and I withered beneath it. I couldn't concentrate on riding him, but he was past that. He gripped me by my thighs and slid lower into the couch, adjusting his angle so he could thrust up into me wildly, ramming his knot against my hole.

I heard a scream of pain behind me followed by a string of Spanish curses, "aaaaAAAAAAAAHHHH!!! Puta Madre! ^#^&#%&#%^&#$%$%@%&#%&$&@&*@!" but I couldn't turn to see what was happening. My gaze was locked on the Coyote beneath me as he forced his way into me. I heard a yelp and thumping behind me, but all of that was drowned out by my own scream of pain as the coyote gave one last thrust and forced his knot inside of me.

The pain was instant and blinding. I felt muscle and flesh rip and my insides bulge as I was ripped open. My mind shut down and I collapsed against the coyote beneath me. Blood was pumping in my ears and everything sounded faint.

The coyote bit my neck, pumping into me wildly. His knot swelled, locking us together. He roared against my flesh and I felt him give way and cum inside me through my numbness, but hardly registered it at the time. His teeth sank deeper into my neck as he emptied his load into me. A stinging pain from my tail hole cut through the numbness to let me know my ring was torn. I panted heavily in the predators grip, his bite forcing me into a limp submissive state.

He emptied his load into me like a cum dumpster, pumping and pulling his cock with nor regard for how I flet. All I could do was whimper pathetically every time his knot pulled against my torn tail ring and grunt each time his tip stabbed against my insides. I just prayed that he would at least wait a minute before pulling out, fearing what damage his knot would do if he forced me open a second time.

That prayer was answered at least. He held me to him, panting against my neck and laughing softly in his afterglow. I didn't move, hoping that if I didn't disturb him he wouldn't move. We laid there for a long moment, him catching his breath, and me waiting for the numbness to clear, and my senses to return.

That thumping I had heard earlier was still going on, part of me assumed it was Vince getting fucked, but another voice kept insisting that it didn't sound right. I didn't care. Not right then anyway.

Eventually the Coyote beneath me stirred. Releasing his mating bite and returning both of us to a sitting position. "HAAAa....HAAAAaa...HAAAA!" I whined as his knot shifted against my torn ring while he moved. That made him chuckle, but he didn't stop. Instead he spun me in his lap so that I was facing the room, still impaled on his shaft and tied to his knot.

"Miro", he pointed at the floor where Vince lay nearly unconscious. The four remaining Cartel members crowded around his limp naked form kicking him mercilessly and laughing while he whimpered. Now I knew what that thumping was...

"STOP!!" I cried out, trying to stand but being held by the knot in my ass. "AAAAAAHhh..hssssss" I cried at the pain of trying to untie. I fell back into the coyote's lap, reaching out weakly for Vince's limp form and pleading for them to stop.

"Pleeeeaseeee....stop...Your killing....him." I gasped raggedly.

The grey Coyote, the leader, turned on me, his face twisted in rage and his hand gripping himself. Bright red blood was oozing from between his fingers as he seethed with rage. He shouted something in Spanish that was too fast for me to comprehend but the message was clear. Vince had bit him, and now he wanted blood.

My blood ran cold, how could he do that?!?! Why?!?!!? Stupid, stupid, stupid... FUCK!

The cartel boss was still raging as he turned to kick Vince's Limp body one more time, but through the storm of Spanish curses came an unexpected sound. It was so out of the blue that everyone in the room stopped to see where it was coming from. Even the pissed off and bloody head honcho stopped mid kick to glare at the Oaken desk on the far side of the room, where the drunken leopard was laughing...Hysterically.

"You think this is funny?" seethed the cartel leader in English, "Look what that little bitch did to me!" he screamed, moving his hand to show his cock had been bitten clean off.

"HAHAHAHAHA!....hahaha...HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!...behahahah im sorry... hahahaha... just gimme hahhaaha...one sec....hahahahaHAHAHAHA!!!" he was laughing so hard he couldn't control himself, beating his hands against the desk and knocking over his scotch bottle in an effort to control himself, all the while the bleeding Coyote just glared at him.

Finally he seemed to regain control of himself, stopping to pick up his bottle, which was empty enough that it hadn't spilled, and straightening his suit before hopping up to stand on his desk, "That was Hysterical!" he shouted at the Coyote, swaggering forward and dropping down to sit on the front edge of his desk. "Finally someone that has the balls to BITE the guy who's raping him! Hahahaha!" he rolled back on his desk, falling into hysterics all over again.

"To be fair", he said through ragged laughs, "You had just stuck an unlubricated dick up his ass, so I think it was more of a reflex hahaha! I personally think the guy deserves a medal! hahaha" the leopard laughed, rolling back to a sitting position.

"You think so!?" the Coyote spat, "Sientalo, Aqui!" he shouted at his underlings, who picked Vince up roughly and dragged him over to kneel at the bosses feet where he was pointing.

Vince was barely conscious, his face bloody and his head sagging low. Two of the henchmen had to physically hold him up or he would have fallen right back to the ground. His whole body was bruised and he was bleeding from his mouth. He spat weakly, trying to clear his mouth and one of his fangs fell out onto the floor.

"How's this for a Gold chain!" the boss growled. In one motion he grabbed Vince by his hair, pulled his head back and drew his claws across his neck in a smooth effortless line.

Time slowed to a crawl. Vince's head sagged towards me and we shared the last look we would ever share. His eyes were scared and full of the realization that he was going to die. I watched as the line of red emerged across his neck where the Coyote's claw had been, and suddenly I was beside him. I don't remember pulling off the knot I had been tied to, just holding Vince as his body fell and the life slipped from his eyes. I don't even remember the blood, though there must have been tons of it. Everything seemed distant. There was shouting all around me but all I cared about was holding onto Vince for his last precious moments. He didn't try to speak, he just lifted his hand... and I held it.

And then he was gone. And I was alone in a room full of men who wanted me dead. And I was afraid. All I had wanted was to go home. All I had prayed for was Vince and me to make it through this alive. I had prayed for that... and god had abandoned me. I had never felt more alone.

The Cartel leader was raging about how he was going to kill me as well, and skin both of us for his bed sheets before giving our corpses to his dogs... or something like that. I didn't really care to listen to the details

"Satan..." I mumbled to myself, "I don't want to die here..." I was staring into Vince's cold dead eyes, not knowing what I should do, only that I didn't want to die in this god forsaken club and have my fur used as a blanket by some crazed cartel underboss. "If you get me out of this... If you save my life...I'll give you my soul".

"WAIT A MINUTE!" the leopard yelled over the commotion, silencing the cartel leader mid rant. "Did I hear you right?"

It took me a minute to realize he was talking to me, "what?"

"I just heard you offer your soul to Satan in return for your life". The leopard hopped off his desk and rushed over to me excitedly, "Does that offer extend to anyone? Or is it Satan exclusive"

_ What?_

"I...uh..." I frowned, unsure how to answer that.

"I only ask because I too am a collector of souls", the leopard grinned drunkenly, "Have been for quite some time", he said, turning back to his desk and pulling something up on his computer. "Started as a joke, this guy I knew was desperate for some weed so I told him I'd trade him an eights for his soul. He haggled me up to an ounce", his printer jumped to life and started spewing out several pages, "but I figure an ounce for a soul is still a steal right?"

"Uhhh...I guess?" The conversation had taken such a turn that even the cartel members were staring dumbfounded at the leopard as he stapled the pages from the printer together and fished an inkwell pen out from his desk drawers.

"Some people say you can't really sell your soul, that it belongs to God in the end, but God's greatest gift to humanity was free will, so I figure you have the freedom to sell your soul if you so choose". I heard him flip through a couple pages, and scribble something on the pages he stopped on, but I had already turned back to Vince's cold body.

_ How did it come to this Vince?_

He threw the packet of papers down in front of me, startling me out of my thoughts, and held the ink pen out for me. "Sign it, and you live. Don't? And I'll let Carlos here slit your throat like he did your friend". He was smiling excitedly, patiently offering me the ink pen.

_ Is this for real?_

_ Are you really going to sell your soul?_

_ I'm sure as hell not going to die here..._

_ Better selling it to this guy than Satan at least_

_ How do you know you're not? God works through people, why not Satan? Is this really worth eternal damnation?_

_ Do you even believe in a soul? I don't! Live as long as you can because only oblivion awaits you..._

_ Good point_

_ Agreed_

_ ...I don't know..._

I reached up and took the pen. It was an art pen, the kind you dip in a pot of ink to fill its reservoir and can write maybe 3 words before having to dip it again. "I don't have any Ink?" I stated dumbly, staring at the pen; its gold tip was exquisitely engraved with an image of a gateway opening up into the reservoir.

"You have to sign in blood kid, your blood, that's the only way to make it binding, or so I figure." He chuckled watching me press the sharp tip of the ink pen against my wrist. I was aiming for a vein on my wrist where my fur was thinnest, and gasped when the metal head punched through my skin. The reservoir filled quickly with dark purple blood which quickly turned scarlet when it met the air.

Blood ran across my wrist in a thin line as I turned to the contract laid out before me.

I read the opening line of the contract: I_______________________________, hereafter referred to as the Damned, hereby offer my eternal soul to ___Roxan Von Furry_____, here after known as the keeper in return for___Sparing Kiba's miserable life__________________.

His name, as well as well as his price were written in a dark red ink. I blinked and look up at his arm. He pulled up his sleeve to show the bloodstain on his wrist and nodded with a maniacal smile. He touched the underlined space that was still blank, "Print your name here".

I did.

"Now sign here, and initial here, here, here and here", he flipped through the pages, having me sign more than twenty times before he was through, finally reaching the last page, "And one last Signature here and we're all done".

I touched the ink pen to trail of blood running down my wrist, leaning across Vince's body which still lay limply in my lap to sign the last line of the contract, dropping the pen with a shaky hand when the deed was done. My breath caught in my chest, making it hard to breathe , and I swear I hear infernal laughter coming from all around me.

The Leopard smiled wickedly, blowing on the signature before closing the contract and tossing it onto the desk behind him.

"Well!", Roxan shouted excitedly, turning back to the Cartel. "That concludes our business for today gentlemen, thanks for stopping by and I can't wait to see you for the next shipment of E".

"Not so fast Roxan", the leader of the cartel, Carlos presumably, said, pointing at me with one hand while the other still clutched his severed member. "That was a nice little show you put on but that little shit still has to pay for this".

Roxan's voice went cold, the wide eyed excitement gone in an instant as he stared down the leader of the Cartel. "That little shit is mine now, body and soul. You have no claim to anything that is mine, including him".

"You think I'm scared of you?" Carlos growled, the cartel members stepping up behind him. "You know who I work for. You know what they are capable of". His tone was low and threatening.

"Roxan lowered his voice to match, "I know exactly who you work for." He stared the Coyote down, "And they know me. They know who I am, who I work for and exactly what I am capable of". He took a step forward, sticking a clawed hand into the Coyote's chest, "one word from me and I can have a cruise missile sent up your boss's ass."

Carlos scowled but didn't back down.

"Don't believe me? Don't think I know exactly where he lives? Where he is at all times?" Roxan slipped something out of his pocket and read from a small LED screen, "cinco cinco tres uno Sierra Bonita Boulevard".

Carlos looked about ready to attack when the click of a shotgun made him very aware that he and his men were naked, surrounded and without their guns. The guards in the corners of the room had all drawn their weapons and were covering the cartel members in a fatal crossfire.

"Our agreement stands Carlos, tell your boss that the club is clear of dealers. That you have exclusive rights to sell, and that if he tries anything stupid he'll regret it. Now get out of my club". Roxan returned to his desk, pushing a button for his intercom, "Security, escort my guests to the door, and call a disposal unit".

The cartel gathered their things and let security show them out. I sat there on the floor, holding Vince's body, and wondering how the fuck I had gotten here.

"What about him?" asked one of the guards.

"Give him a sedative and take him to Kiron's place. I'll deal with him later"

The guard, a tall grey wolf, said something into his mic and a few minutes later an otter wearing a Red Cross badge entered the office. She took one look at Vince and me then looked shocked at Roxan, he just shook his head.

"The cheetah's dead, the fox needs a sedative, he's had a long day".

I looked blankly at the otter, truth be told I wasn't all there; I hadn't been since Vince had slipped away. She took my arm, I let her. I didn't even protest when she pulled out a syringe and measured out 20cc's of something. I watched blankly as she injected it into my arm and she gave me a weak smile as my eyes grew tired and sleep overtook me...

End...sorta