Five Little Vixens by Kinto Mythostian Five little vixens, lined up in a row Five little vixens with no place to go ** It hadn't been much of an escape attempt. There wasn't much planning involved or any real malice behind it. In fact, if I'm to be honest, there was no way our little quintet should have ever even succeeded. But we surpassed our own expectations and made it out of the compound. Of course, five unattended young vixens wearing identical clothing and deliberately trying to keep their ankle bands from being seen tends to draw attention. Thus, our brief brush with freedom came to an abrupt end less than an hour after it began. Legally, punishment of errant slaves has always been at the discretion of the owner. If we had been owned by an individual, we might have been let off with a stern warning. But Mason Acquisitions, the city's largest slave trading company and our current owner, has always maintained a strict zero-tolerance policy on escape attempts. ** Five little vixens, look at them cry Five little vixens sentenced to die ** And so the very next morning we five erstwhile escapees are herded by a pair of slavewranglers into a well-lit, white-walled room somewhere in the bowels of Mason Acquisitions headquarters. Dressed in the same plain blue dresses we were wearing when we had escaped and then been subsequently recaptured, we are made to stand in a line with our wrists bound behind our backs. Lined up in front of me are Lacey, Spark, and Ruby. Behind me is my Little Sister; the smallest and youngest member of our quintet. In front of us, a row of five nooses hang from the ceiling above a row of five wooden stools. A senior overseer is sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, legs crossed, a tablet computer resting on his knee. A camera is mounted on a tripod next to him, ready to record our executions for the purposes of quality control. The first vixen in line, Lacey, nervously tries to back away as one of the slavewranglers approaches her, but he grabs her roughly by the arm and begins to pull her towards the first noose. She drags her feet and makes an awful din, yelling and crying, making every effort to preserve her life. The slavewrangler spins her around to face him and slaps her hard across the face. Lacey yelps and cries even harder. The slavewrangler seizes her by the shoulders and shakes her. "Listen, you little insignificant piece of shit. Quit your bawling and behave. Don't make this harder on yourself." Lacey stops screaming, but continues to cry and whimper quietly. She doesn't put up any more fight as the slavewrangler drags her the rest of the way to the first noose. He grabs Lacey under her arms and lifts her feet up onto the stool before lowering the noose over her head and tightening the knot against the back of her neck. The slavewrangler walks around the stool until he and Lacey are face-to-face. "Do you have anything to say, you little brat?" Lacey looks at him through frightened, tear-stained eyes, her tail curled pitifully between her legs. "Please... *whimper* Please, you d-don't have to do this... *sob* I'm s-sorry. I swear... *sniffle* It won't h-happen again." "That's the idea." The slavewrangler kicks the stool away and the rope is pulled taut. ** One little vixen, her toes in the air Four little vixens know life isn't fair ** Lacey kicks and struggles, and I wish I could shut my ears to the horrible choking gasps that emerge from my friend's gaping mouth as she is slowly strangled by her own weight. The same fate awaits each one of us, and I fight back tears at the thought. I need to be strong; I can't let Little Sister see me cry. I surreptitiously step to the side in an effort to block Little Sister's view; I don't want her to see this. "Hey! You!" the second slavewrangler calls, "Get back in line! You'll wait your turn like everyone else!" "But-" I stammer in an effort to explain. "I said get back in line!" He grabs me roughly and shoves me back into position. "And stay there!" I whisper out of the side of her mouth, "Don't look, Little Sister." "No talking, slaves!" shouts the overseer from his chair at the other end of the room, making us four remaining vixens all jump. "Carry on." "Yes, sir." The second slavewrangler nods to the first, who starts to reach for the next vixen. "Don't touch me, you fucker!" shouts the second vixen, whose name is Spark. "I'll walk myself." Sure enough, Spark strides straight to the second stool with the slavewrangler trailing close behind. She glances at Lacey, who is still twitching at the end of her rope with a trickle of urine running down her leg. "This is all your fucking fault, you goddamn cock-sucking bitch," Spark snarls; she blames Lacey for us getting caught, although I don't know where she got "cock-sucking" from. "I said don't touch me, you ass-fucker!" This last comment is directed at the slavewrangler, who had been about to lift Spark onto the stool. Spark steps calmly up onto the stool and stands up as straight as she can. She turns to glare malignantly at the slavewrangler behind her. "Alright, you fucking bastard. Let's get this shit over with." "That's no way for a vixen to talk," says a calm voice in front of her. Spark's head swivels back around. The overseer is standing there; I could have sworn he was sitting in his chair at the other end of the room just a second ago. Nevertheless, Spark rallies quickly. "Go to Hell," she snaps curtly. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Language, Miss Spark. I think you owe an apology to Mr. Lund and myself." "Kiss my ass." "Very well, if that's how you'd prefer it. Mr. Lund, hold her still." "Fucking touch me and I'll-" Perhaps it's for the best that Spark isn't given the opportunity to finish her threat. The overseer lashes out, slapping Spark hard across the cheek and cutting her off mid-sentence. Mr. Lund, the slavewrangler, grabs Spark's head and holds her still as the overseer removes a muzzle from one of his pockets and fits it around Spark's snout. He pulls the straps as tight as he can, sealing Spark's mouth shut. "Now, Miss Spark, if you had been polite about all this it never would have come to this, but you insisted on making this difficult for everyone," he says as he drapes the noose across her shoulders and tenderly tightens it around her neck. "MMMM-MMMPH!" "What did I tell you about that kind of language, Miss Spark?" He removes something from another one of his pockets. "Mr. Lund, I believe a kiss on the ass was requested." "With pleasure, Mr. Towers." Spark looks down in confusion at the strange object being passed from the overseer to Mr. Lund. It's a small black box attached to a strap; a pair of metal prongs protrude from one side. Spark doesn't recognize it, but I do. Why can't they just be content with killing her? Mr. Lund rips open Spark's dress below the tail-hole and presses the metal prongs into the flesh of her left buttock. He wraps the strap around Spark's waist and cinches it tight, taking the opportunity to briefly finger her genitalia. "MMMMMMM-MMM'M-MMMMM-MMPH!" she shouts. Suddenly, Spark convulses and screams through her muzzle in pain. The terrible, shocking sting of the device is always a surprise the first time you experience it. My tail instinctively curls between my legs in sympathetic recollection. "Thank you, Mr. Lund. Do I have your attention now, Miss Spark?" The overseer says, and displays the control switch in his hand. It has two clearly labeled settings: OFF and PAIN. "MMM-MMMMMMPH!" "Tsk, tsk. You still haven't learned." He flicks the switch and leaves it on for a full five seconds. Poor, poor, Spark. She's always had a defiant streak, and she's never been good at keeping her mouth shut. The pain must be almost unbearable for her. She screams through her muzzle and tears come to her eyes as the device burns into her ass, sending waves of pain rippling across her body. Her tail thrashes wildly from side to side with each fresh shock from the device. Mr. Towers returns the switch to OFF. "Have you learned anything yet, Miss Spark?" Spark says nothing as she stands on the stool, crying and panting through her nose. Inside my head, I urge her to stay silent. "I'm not sure it's sunk in yet. Maybe you need another kiss." "MMMMMMPH! MMPH!" "If you say so." The bastard flicks the switch back to PAIN and the shocks resume. I have no idea how long it continues this time, but from her perspective it probably feels like hours. Each shock brings a fresh round of painful twinges and spasms. In my past experience with the device, I've felt like I was being taken apart nerve by excruciating nerve. I spy something dribbling down Spark's legs and I realize with a horror that she's soiled herself. "Stop it!" Little Sister shouts from the end of the line, causing everyone to turn and look at her. Tears are pouring from her eyes, trickling down the soft fur of her cheeks, her small body wracked by her sobs. "Stop it! You're hurting her!" "Little Sister! Shh! It'll be alright, Little Sister," I hiss, trying to comfort her, though I'm pretty close to tears myself. "Yes, I suppose Miss Spark has probably learned her lesson by now. The two of you, however, had best learn when to keep your mouths shut, and learn quickly," the overseer snaps before flipping the switch back to OFF. Spark sags as the pain finally stops and slowly fades; the noose around her throat catches her up short and chokes her. The overseer lightly cups Spark's chin in his hand and lifts it up so that they are looking eye-to-eye. "Now, Miss Spark, do you have anything more to say?" "m'm-mmmmmph," she quietly moans. "Apology accepted," and with that he kicks the stool out from under Spark's feet. ** Two little vixens dance a grim ballet Three little vixens know they will soon sway ** We all watch Spark struggle for a moment, and then Mr. Towers flicks the switch back to PAIN and drops it to the floor in front of her. She writhes and fights hopelessly, legs and tail jerking in pain with each shock from the device. The noose tight around her neck and the muzzle holding her mouth shut restrict her breathing to what little sniffs she can wheeze through her nostrils as her body fights instinctively to keep her alive. The expression of Spark's half-closed eyes suggests to me a suffering beyond imagination, from which death will be a relief. It's clear to me that the most defiant member of our little clique has been thoroughly defeated. Vixen number three is named Ruby. As the overseer returns to his seat, I can see her looking back and forth between Spark and Mr. Lund. She must know that her death is inevitable, and Spark has proven that there's no good to come from trying to fight it. I can see Ruby reach a decision, and as I'm trying to discern her expression the meaning of the faint, musky pheromones that've been persistently prickling my nostrils suddenly hits me. Watching our friends die has made Ruby aroused. Mr. Lund takes Ruby by the arm and begins to lead her towards the third noose. She keeps pace with his steps, neither pulling ahead nor trying to lag behind. As they walk, Ruby begins to strike up a conversation. "So tell me, Mr. Lund, does my hangfox have a first name?" "Yes." "Mine's Ruby. What's yours?" "Courage." "That's a nice name. I imagine you're wondering why I tried to run away." I highly doubt Courage Lund has been wondering any such thing. He only shrugs in response. "I did it because it was dangerous. I've always been attracted to danger. The thought of the trouble I might get into if I was ever caught was oh so exciting. Do you know what I mean, Courage?" I'm beginning to suspect what Ruby might be getting at, but again Courage only shrugs. Ruby has always been a bit of a slut, but that's nothing unusual. I never would have thought she'd try something like this, though. "And now, I'm in the most danger I've ever been in and I can't help but feel incredibly thrilled. I'm actually going to die, Courage," Ruby says as he helps her step up onto the stool. "So I was wondering," she pauses for a moment to lift her snout and thereby ease the passage of the noose over her head, "Could I get a last request?" Courage looks to the overseer, who shrugs. "I suppose that depends on what it is, Ruby." "Well, it's just that I'm awfully hot in this dress. I was hoping that maybe I could take it off." Courage looks at Ruby's sleeveless standard-issue slave dress, and I look at my own. I've wiped my ass with toilet paper that would provide more warmth, but Courage doesn't make any effort to contest Ruby's claim. He looks to Mr. Towers, who nods. Courage doesn't need telling twice. He whips out his pocketknife and cuts Ruby's dress apart, letting it fall to the ground. The seductive young vixen now stands on the stool fully naked; I'm not at all surprised that Ruby hadn't been wearing any underwear. She's always taken pride in her appearance, and it shows. Under the pretense of adjusting her noose, Courage steps closer and runs his hands through her velvety scarlet fur. "Courage," she whispers as he leans close to her, "I know what you want. I can smell your musk. I want it too. Take me." Courage's already half-erect penis bulges visibly against his pants at those words. He glances at Mr. Towers; the overseer is already adjusting the zoom on the camera. Courage drops his trousers in a flash and coaxes his rapidly swelling penis out from his underwear. Standing behind Ruby, he grips her and pulls her naked young body close to him, her bound arms pinned between them, his hands clutching handfuls of her wonderful fur. He gently presses his penis to the entrance to her vagina; standing on the stool she's at the perfect height. Ruby moans gleefully as Courage gently rocks back and forth, rubbing the tip of his penis against her sensitive vulva. Slowly, he presses deeper, and Ruby's moist folds part to welcome him in. He buries his nose in her fur, inhaling the beautifully erotic smell of her feminine musk that surely blots out everything else from his mind. He begins to thrust, slowly at first. Ruby continues to moan passionately. If what she said is true, then I have no idea if she's more excited by the feel of him inside her or by the feel of the noose around her neck, which chokes her lightly with each increasingly vigorous thrust. Courage falls into a steady rhythm and Ruby unfs in time with each push of his penis pressing against the warm confines of her slick vagina, rubbing against her clitoris, both of them drawing closer to orgasm. Courage cums first, grunting loudly as he pumps his seed into the young vixen held tight in his amorous embrace. Ruby climaxes seconds later with a sharp yelp of pleasure, her toes gripping the edge of the stool she's standing on, the blissful orgasm temporarily blotting all other thoughts from her mind. Even from this far away, the reek of their cum is enough to wrinkle my nose. Panting, Courage pulls out, sending their combined juices trickling down Ruby's thighs. He softly kisses her cheek. "Thank you, Courage," she whispers between soft gasps, "Do it now." Courage kicks the stool out from under her feet. ** Three little vixens, hanged from a rope Two little vixens can't even hope ** Ruby twists and squirms, trapped between conflicting sensations of powerful pleasure and terrible pain. From the scent of her pheromones, it seems that the sensation of the slow asphyxia stealing away her life inch by inch is making her aroused all over again. I'm next in line. I look at my three friends slowly, painfully dying; exterminated for the crime of wanting to be free. I'm thinking quickly. Death doesn't frighten me all that much. Ruby may have been fine with being hanged, but I'm not much looking forward to it. I'm marginally comforted by the thought that it can only last so long. No, what truly frightens me is the thought of Little Sister having to die that way, scared and alone, and so soon after having to suffer the terror of watching me, her beloved big sister, die. I know what I have to do. As the slavewrangler reaches for my arm, I speak, putting as much saccharine innocence into my voice as I can muster: "Mr. Lund? May I have a last request too?" "I suppose I might have enough for one more. What would you like?" the horny tod asks. "Please, Mr. Lund, could you untie my arms so I could hug Little Sister good-bye? I promise I'll go quietly if you let me." Mr. Lund's countenance switches instantly from eager to crestfallen before he looks to the overseer. I do my best to keep my expression innocently blank as Mr. Towers studies me from across the room. He nods once. Mr. Lund flicks open his pocket knife and bends down to cut through my bindings. "Don't try anything stupid, or I'll make sure you live just long enough to regret it," he says before releasing his grip on my arm. I nod as I rub my wrists where the rope had been tied painfully tight. "And what about Little Sister?" "What about her?" "It won't be much of a hug if I'm the only one whose arms are free." "Will she behave herself?" "Of course she will. Little Sister, I need you to promise to obey Mr. Lund. Can you do that?" "Uh-huh," Little Sister chokes out; her throat is raw from crying. "There, see? She won't be any trouble." Both Mr. Lund and I look to the overseer. After a moment of consideration he shrugs and nods once. Grumbling, Mr. Lund sinks to his knees and cuts through Little Sister's bindings. She immediately runs to me, and I kneel down to hug her better. We embrace, both of us silently crying into each other's shoulders. I hold Little Sister close, my tail curled comfortingly around her delicate young body, and stroke her soft, sweet-smelling fur, trying to calm her. "I'm scared, big sister." "So am I, Little Sister. It'll be alright." "No it won't." "Yes, it will. I promised you that I would always take care of you, that I would always be there for you. Remember?" "Yes," Little Sister whispers through her tears. "And how I promised I would never let anyone hurt you?" Little Sister nods. "Nothing has changed that. Little Sister, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. I want you to know that." I know that I can not allow Little Sister to be hanged; she's so young and so small, there's no telling how long it might take her to die like that, how much she would suffer. "I love you, Little Sister," I whisper, "More than anything." "I love you too, Meadow." "Good-bye, Little Sister." Quick as a flash and before either Little Sister or the slavewranglers can react, I release my embrace and grab Little Sister's head and twist her neck hard. A sharp snap echoes across the room. Little Sister collapses. She's dead before she hits the floor. ** Four little vixens have breathed their last breath One little vixen is ready for death ** Mr. Lund and the other slavewrangler grab my arms and yank me back. The overseer materializes from the other end of the room and bends down to check Little Sister's pulse. "She's dead," he says simply. Mr. Lund is already retying my wrists as the overseer turns to look at me. "I bet you think you're pretty clever, don't you Miss Meadow?" I say nothing and try to keep my expression blank. I may have brought extra retribution down upon myself, but I've already won. Nothing he does to me will matter; all that matters is that Little Sister died without pain. I can put up with anything this sadistic bastard chooses to throw at me. "Thought you'd get your Little Sister out of her justly deserved punishment?" he says and steps forward until he is directly in front of me. I remain silent and continue to stare defiantly at him. "You're not going to say anything, are you?" More silence. Nothing I say will make any difference. "Fine. It's all the same to me." The overseer turns to the second slavewrangler. "Mr. Dahlgren?" "Yes, Mr. Towers?" "It occurs to me that I haven't been treating you fairly. Mr. Lund here got to enjoy himself with Miss Ruby, while you've been keeping an eye on the other slaves, forced to hold it in. That's not fair, Mr. Dahlgren." "Not fair at all, Mr. Towers," says Mr. Dahlgren, smiling evilly. I have a bad feeling about this. "Then I give you permission to have your way with Miss Meadow. Mr. Lund, get her undressed, please." "Thank you, Mr. Towers," says Mr. Dahlgren as he shimmies out of his pants, allowing his erection to spring free. Meanwhile, Mr. Lund makes quick work of reducing my dress to tatters, not bothering to avoid nicking me with the blade. Even though it stings, I bite my tongue and refuse to give him the satisfaction of making me cry out. Mr. Dahlgren shoves me hard, knocking me to the ground. I land awkwardly on my back, my bound arms pinned painfully beneath my body. Before I can even catch my breath, Mr. Dahlgren is on top of me. I look up into his face; his crazed eyes burn with raging lust and his disgusting drooling tongue protrudes lewdly from his sadistic smiling mouth. He grabs my petite breasts and squeezes, causing me to yelp involuntarily. Without any preliminaries, Mr. Dahlgren roughly shoves his penis deep into my vagina. I bite my tongue until I taste blood to keep myself from screaming, but I can't stop the tears that come to my eyes. I instinctively try to fight back, but he's far larger and stronger than I. Mr. Dahlgren smiles maliciously as he brutally begins to fuck me, the helpless victim to his wicked villain, except that I know no hero will come to rescue me - everyone who would have ever cared enough about me is already either dead or dying. Mr. Dahlgren's hands stray upward from my breasts and I gasp as he wraps his fingers around my slender throat. He applies a light amount of pressure and thrusts harder as he hears me begin to choke, the sickening sound of my strangled breath like music to his ears. My lungs burn as Mr. Dahlgren gradually increases the pressure on my windpipe. My heart pounds against my ribs as he mercilessly plunges his penis deeper inside my tender flesh. My tear-blurred vision is beginning to grow black around the edges; the pain is excruciating. I can't think, can't act, can't breathe - all I can see is Mr. Dahlgren's leering lascivious face, all I can feel is his penis pounding into me and his hands crushing my throat. I know now that this is how I am going to die. Then, with a howl, Mr. Dahlgren cums, his semen flooding into my vagina in great pulsing blasts. He releases his grip on my throat and I inhale deeply, fresh air flooding into my lungs in great shuddering breaths. Mr. Dahlgren slides his slick penis free of the confines of my body and stands up, cum dripping from his penis onto the white fur of my belly. I lie motionless on the floor breathing heavily, concentrating all of my remaining energy on keeping a flow of oxygen through my damaged throat to my lungs. "Feeling better, Mr. Dahlgren?" the overseer queries. No one bothers to ask how I feel; it doesn't really matter, of course. "Yes, very much so, Mr. Towers." "Good. String her up." I'm too weak to resist as Mr. Dahlgren lifts me to my feet and drags me to the fourth noose and hoists me onto the waiting stool. I stare blankly ahead as the noose is lifted over my head and adjusted snug around my neck. The embrace of the rope is coarse against my fur, drawn painfully tight against the bruises left by Mr. Dahlgren's grip. "Any last words?" I turn to look at him, and then past him at my friends. Lacey is dangling motionless, probably dead already. Spark is twitching slightly, but it's impossible to tell if she's alive or if it's just random muscle convulsions from the device burning into her ass. Ruby's eyes are closed in a peculiar grimace; as I watch, she spasms and climaxes with a strangled sigh. The cum of her final orgasm glistens on her pubic fur and runs down her thighs. "Well?" Mr. Dahlgren prompts. I think about Little Sister. Sweet, innocent Little Sister; even though she's dead by my own hands, I saved her. Knowing that, I can die at peace. "I'm not sorry," I whisper. "That's a shame." The stool is kicked away. ** Five little vixens are snuffed out and cold All little vixens should do as they're told ** Author's notes: First draft begun November 12, 2009. First draft completed November 30, 2009. Editing completed December 1, 2009. Significantly revised during the FA outage of December 2009. Final final editing completed December 4, 2009. The idea for this story just sort of came to me one night. I imagine the couplets as being parts of a nursery rhyme told to young slaves to condition them into obedience. It also teaches them how to count to five.