"Graham." Adrian nodded to the wolf as she passed him, willing herself not to blush. Shit. Of course, she had to run into the one person who was definitely going to notice.
"Adrian," he growled back, his toenails clicking on the tiles of the hallway leading to the dispatch chambers.  The Cyan Mile, they called it as a joke, referencing the tiles' hospital-inspired color. "New perfume?" he grinned, pointing his nose up at the mare's wet face. "Eau de toilet?"
Adrian's will wasn't enough to stop the blush then. "My last client had an accident on the way out. It happens."
"A face-level accident?" 
"She wanted to hang."
"And you wanted to taste," the wolf rumbled, lowering his eyes to the mare's naked breasts. 
"Is this really appropriate workplace conversation, Gray?"
That got a laugh from the wolf, breaking the tension a little. "Appropriate workplace conversation!  That's good.  Sorry, is my tie straight?" He pretended to adjust an invisible tie, swaying his hips so that his half-erection waggled in front of his belly.
Adrian snorted and gave Graham's shoulder a firm push, gently reminding him of her physical size, as she had to do from time to time. "Out of my way, Gray.  I need to get to the showers.
"And ruin that delicate bouquet?" He made a show of wafting the heady scent of the death-piss toward his nose.  "What is that, rat?"
"She was a mouse. And stop being disrespectful." She ignored Graham grinning and squeezing his cock as she turned the corner toward the showers.
"Oh!" She bumped into a blue and red wall of scales as she walked into the washroom.  "Sorry, Vask," she said as she stepped back from the only Sunset Farms employee who was larger than her. "Wasn't watching where I was going."
"No worries," the ten-foot-tall dragon rumbled. Their scales, normally iridescent blue and immaculate, were spattered with gore from their belly to halfway up their long, serpentine neck. "I'm not easy to knock over."  They turned on one of the showerheads along the wall and hunched over to fit under the spray.
"Look at you! Big job?" Adrian wiped off some of the blood that had transferred onto her fur, turning on a shower next to Vask's.
"Yes. A horse. Er... sorry."
Adrian laughed. "You don't need to walk on eggshells around me. I know what we do. I dispatch horses too, when they're clients."
"Of course you do. Sorry... um, for being sorry." The gentle dragon wiped the blood from their scales in the warm water. "I barely had to do anything. He had his whole ritual down pat. After he prayed and took the shot, I just put the hooks in his ankles, hoisted him up, and cut his throat. So funny how differently everyone reacts to the prey drive gene activation."
Adrian nodded. "You have to remember, some species have been doing this a long time. Us horses were farmed and slaughtered for centuries before the prey drive gene was even developed."
"Yes, I suppose a culture adapts. The rituals would have been a good coping strategy before the gene made them unnecessary."
"That's a bit of a reptilian way to look at it, but you're probably right. Prey were less likely to revolt if they felt some measure of control over their own slaughter."
"And now, with the gene, the slaughtered have even less control over when they die, but they're more content for it. How... mammalian."
"Executioner Adrian," the loudspeaker in the ceiling interrupted their conversation. "Please report to reception. You have a client."
Adrian shrugged and turned off the water, grabbing a towel. "Catch you later, Vask, someone needs me!"
She finished drying herself off as she clopped down the tile hall, tossing the towel into a hamper outside one of the execution rooms, where it came to rest covering a bloodstained pink dress. The wide double doors to reception creaked as she pushed them open, stepping into the crisp, sterile waiting room.  She always felt a little out-of-place here in the nude, even though she knew the wide floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on the city street were one-way glass. It was just so... businesslike out here.
"Mr. Mercier," the small fox receptionist chirped from behind her desk, "Your executioner is here." Her tone was a little more clipped than usual, Adrian noticed.
A figure stood up from one of the waiting room chairs, and Adrian deduced the reason for Mimi's shortness. Mr. Mercier was also a fox.  Of course, everyone knew that any sentient of any species could end up with an activated prey drive gene. It was legally mandated, in fact - an attempt to correct the species exploitation of the past. But some predators still had dim views about members of their own species ending up on the bottom of the food chain.
"Hello, Mr. Mercier." Adrian stepped forward, ignoring the tension. She extended a hand and smiled. "I'll be helping you today." Her nostrils flared as she took in his scent, her eyes flicking up and down his figure. Everyone who was born with an active prey drive gene reacted differently when it manifested itself, but there were common patterns. It was easy to see which category this fox fell into. His musk heavy in the air, his tented trousers, his moist paw in hers as he reflexively shook it. Adrian could almost feel the death-lust coming off him in waves.
"Call me Jean, please," he said, running his free paw down his side nervously.  "God... she wasn't lying, you really are a horse!"
"Yes, Jean.  People of any species can be executioners, regardless of predatory status."
"I'm sorry.  I guess that makes sense, huh?  I mean, if I can be prey..."
A sharp little cough came from behind Mimi's desk as she noisily shuffled some paperwork around.  "Why don't we take this discussion into the preparation area?" Adrian said as she guided Jean toward the metal double doors.
"Sh-She's a bit of a wet towel, huh?" Jean stuttered as the doors swung shut behind them.  "Doesn't like predators like me getting..." he squeezed for a moment at his crotch before pulling his paw back to his side.
"It's okay, you can touch yourself all you want back here." Adrian responded to the fox's obvious arousal rather than his words.  "And no, she's fine with predators being killed here. I think it's mostly just that you're a fox.  I'll have a word with her after this."  She leaned forward and breathed into his ear.  "Not that it will be any of your concern by then."
"Oh my God..." Jean's paw returned to his crotch, squeezing his erection through the fabric of his trousers.  "This is real, isn't it?  You're really going to kill me and sell my meat!"
Adrian could tell this wasn't the kind of client who wanted euphemisms.  There would be no ritual or afterlife talk this time. The gene had hit him hard.  "That's right." She pulled him close to her chest and reached down, unbuttoning his fly and letting his pants fall to the floor of the prep room.  "We know what you need.  We're going to make sure you never see tomorrow, Jean."
The fox panted and whined, taking his paw off his groin only long enough for Adrian to pull his boxer shorts down as well, then returned to stroking his erection, now fully exposed.  Adrian helped him out of his shirt, then folded his clothes and placed them in a nearby receptacle with an unmistakable flame icon. "My wallet's in there..." he squeaked.
"So?"
"Um... I guess I don't know."  His eyes drifted over to the toilet in the corner of the prep room.  "Should I use that? I've heard people sometimes lose control at the end."
Adrian shrugged. "It's up to you. We don't require it, but we provide the opportunity if the idea of doing it uncontrollably later is disturbing.
Jean swallowed audibly, and his voice was raspy as he responded, "I'm pretty sure I'm too hard to piss, anyway."  Adrian nodded, unsurprised. Jean didn't strike her as the preserve-my-dignity type.
"No worries. Our execution chambers all have drains for a reason. Of course, there are other options, if you'd like to maintain a little bit of decorum." She raised a paw, gesturing to the rack of thick, white medical-grade disposable diapers neatly folded and stacked above a sturdy changing table.
The fox's cheeks flashed bright red as soon as he recognized the puffy white objects.  "I mean..." he coughed. "It's not about decorum so much as... it kinda seems right, doesn't it?  If we know I'm probably gonna piss myself, then I should wear a diaper? Right?"
"Couldn't agree more," Adrian said, and quickly lifted the fox up off his feet, eliciting a surprised squeak.  She laid him down on the changing table, his erection jutting up.
"God, you're strong!"
Adrian gently pried Jean's paw off his cock, then unfolded one of the thick diapers.  "Lift up."  The fox thrust his hips into the air, and Adrian slid the diaper under his bottom.  She carefully ran a finger along the leak guards to stand them up, then fitted his tail into the rear slot and taped him up snugly.  "There.  Now you'll leave less of a mess behind you. That's sort of the definition of being a good person, isn't it?"
Jean laughed as Adrian set him back down on his feet, his legs spread from the unfamiliar thickness of the execution diaper. "I guess it is!" He followed Adrian through the prep room doors into the Cyan Mile. Large metal doors, reminiscent of bulkhead doors on a ship, lined the hall on either side.  "So... how are you going to do it?"
"Well, that's up to you. We have a lot of options."
"I get to choose?"
Adrian nodded.  "Yes, you do. Some prey like an intimate exit with their executioner. Sex is allowed, and strangling while fucking is always popular. Others prefer something ritualistic, like self-disembowelment. Or maybe a literal execution scene, like hanging from a gallows or taking a peek through a guillotine. Some just want to go out quick, and we have options for that. Breakneck bars and captive bolt guns."
The execution diaper crinkled, giving away Jean's furtive rubbing at his crotch as Adrian described his options. "I... don't know! I always thought I'd just... you know.  Get hung up and bled, or something."
"That's an option."
"But what if it's not the right option?" Jean sounded panicky.  Adrian sympathized - this was an important decision, after all.  It would affect him for the rest of his life!
"Let me ask you something. they called specifically for me over the intercom.  That means you asked for me after hearing descriptions of the available executioners. Right now, there's a wolf, a dragon, and a cat on duty. They're all generally more popular among prey than I am. What caused you to ask for the only prey-species executioner?"
Jean hesitated as he thought about the question. Adrian saw his eyes look her up and down, linger on her pink vulva between her wide thighs, and stop on her large, steel-shod hooves. "Ever since the gene activated, I've been thinking about someone big and strong taking me out. Didn't matter if they were pred or prey, really. And to me, a horse symbolizes strength."
"I see. Maybe none of those options are right for you. If you'd like, I could just take you out with my body." She lifted one foot and set it down on the tile, letting the metallic click of her shoe ring out through the hallway.
The fox took in a shuddering breath, staring at her feet.  "That sounds... nice," he choked out. "Painful, though?"
She smirked, heading over to one of the bulkhead-style doors and opening it with a thumbprint scan. "We have ways of managing the pain, if you'd like.  Come on in."
Jean took a halting step into the last room he'd ever see, staring at the tile floor with its wide drain and the calming light-blue walls.  Aside from a few cabinets on the wall, it was completely empty. "I expected to see nooses and boltguns and stuff."
"There are rooms like that here," Adrian said, clopping over to one of the cabinets and unlocking it with another thumb scan. "Some execution methods require specialized equipment, and if you'd asked for that, I would have taken you to one of those rooms. This one is general-purpose, for less refined methods of switching off prey.  Like getting run over roughshod by a sexy mare." She took a small cylinder out of the cabinet and shut it again.
"What's that?" Jean perked his ears as Adrian pulled the sleeve off a small syringe with a hair-thin needle. "I told you we have pain management options."
"Like a painkiller?"
"Sort of. It doesn't stop the pain. It just crosses a couple wires in your brain so that you feel it as pleasure. Usually sexual pleasure, but sometimes as emotional high or even just physical comfort. Something tells me that in your case, it will be sexual."
Jean dipped his nose down.  "I don't know... it feels like a bit of a cop-out, you know? Part of my prey drive is about feeling it."
"You're still sacrificing yourself and helping your fellow sentients to eat. Your death is valid whether it's painful or not."
The fox nodded. "Okay.  Yeah, I'll take the shot."
Adrian didn't let it show, but she was relieved. Jean didn't seem like the type who would enjoy agony in his last moments, but sometimes clients were stubborn about letting themselves get the most pleasure possible out of their end.
"All right.  Hold still, it goes in your neck.  Quickest way to the brain."
"Urgh." Jean winced and turned his head to the side. "Make it quick.  I hate needles."
Adrian laughed, already pulling the needle out of his neck.  "It's already over. Congratulations, you're officially a dead fox walking."
Jean looked up at her and cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"
"Well, the effects of the shot are permanent. Even if we let you go right now, how long do you think you'd last experiencing pain as pleasure?"
The fox blushed, looking down at himself.  "I guess that's a good point. So, what do I do now?"
"Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and try to relax," Adrian said, tossing the needle into a discreet sharps disposal container in the wall.  "I'll take care of the rest."
Jean did so, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose. Adrian let him get a big lungful - she knew he might not be able to breathe for a bit after this, and didn't want him to black out so soon.  Once he was done inhaling, she turned her hip to the side and delivered a full-power metal-shod horse kick directly to the fox's belly.
He let out an involuntary noise between a grunt and a honk as he fell. From his other end came the unmistakable sound of Jean messing his diaper, the seat of which expanded with a crackle. He fell hard on his soiled rump, then curled up reflexively on his side, letting out gurgly choking sounds.
"All right, come on," Adrian said, bending down and lifting his head up by the hair.  "You aren't dead yet."
Jean kept gagging for a few more seconds, then coughed a spray of blood onto the tile floor, gasping air in. "Why'sit... feel so good to breathe?" he asked between rasping coughs.
Adrian laughed. "Because you're in agony. Probably a bruised diaphragm, maybe even a burst lung. And the shot is doing its job. Feels good, huh?"
The fox shivered and moaned. "Like my whole body's a dick in a pussy."
"Speaking of which..." The mare was beginning to feel herself wink, turned on by this subby dead-meat fox.  She rolled him over on his back and knelt over his head, giving him a great view of her pussy and tailhole, slick and warm and fleshy.  She began to lower it onto his face, pressing his nose up inside her.  He squeaked muffled noises into her, squeezing at his diapered erection.
"Whuff... there you go."  She rocked back and forth on his face, rubbing his ears with her paws.  She kept going, masturbating with his snout until his pawing at himself became disjointed twitching and the tips of his ears turned blue. She lifted off his face, trailing streamers of sticky mare juices, and the fox took in another ragged gasp. "God, I thought I wash going! It wash incredible..." he slurred.
"You were, if I hadn't lifted up off you when I did.  Tell you what, let's wrap this up, okay?  I'm going to get you cumming, and then I'll finish you off."
"Get cumming and get going, huh?  Sounds good," the fox grinned, color temporarily returning to his face.
Adrian straightened up, still standing over his face with her legs spread.  She figured he'd earned a good final view.  She nudged his arms with her hoof so they were spreadeagle, then lifted her leg and stamped her hoof down on one of his paws. She felt the bones breaking like a bundle of twigs under her metal shoe, and the fox bucked his hips, humping at the air in front of him, his tongue lolling out and his eyes slightly crazed. Adrian stomped her other hoof on Jean's other paw, and he grunted, tensing up and squirting his final cum into the padding of his diaper.  Adrian's nose picked up the musk of his orgasm, and she knew it was time for him to go, before that last glorious orgasm could end.  She lifted her hoof one more time, and this time set it down on his throat, right below his chin.  She didn't have to stomp - she knew her weight would do the job.
Jean's moans choked off as his windpipe closed.  Then, with an audible pop, his neck lengthened by about an inch. His body jerked as his vertebrae were severed, and his eyes went unfocused, his pupils dilating.  Adrian lifted her hoof back up, listening to his final breath rattle out of his lungs and his bladder release, soaking the front of his diaper with more than just cum.  "Night night, foxy."
Adrian lifted up his still-twitching body and set it on a metal gurney, just like the one she diapered him on, except not padded.  There was no need to account for the comfort of the corpse lying there now, its head sitting at an odd angle and its neck twisting unnaturally. Adrian leaned down and pressed her nose to the front of his diaper, indulging her little secret pleasure. Prey never knew what she did with their bodies before sending them off to the butcher, and by the time she did it, they wouldn't care. She fingered herself as she began, huffing the piss-shit-and-musk smell that meant another satisfied client.