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In this adventure, Danny Todd is a rich successful fox with the world at his feet. But this fox hasa dark little secret. On his nights off Danny loves nothing better than being treated like a bitch, and is always on the look out for even kinkier, darker thrills. Tonight he's driving down to a seculded barn, to meet two burly males who promise to treat him like livestock for the entire night down in the barn. But how literally do they plan on treating the fox like their 'little pig'?

This story was written by the amazing 'Zantesuken' on Furaffinity.", "writing": "To those that knew him, Danny Todd was your archetypal high flier. He was youthful, energetic, outgoing and smart. The fox had a head for numbers and a way with business that afforded him a meteoric career in finance. Within three years of graduating from college he was earning a six figure salary, living in the fanciest part of the city with all the little luxuries that made life worth living. His colleagues admired him, his friends envied him, but there was one thing about Danny that no one knew, a secret that he kept very well to himself.\n\nThat was his night life.\n\nWhen the other bankers and insurers would take a Friday night in the wine bars atop skyscrapers or the luxurious hotel lobbies full of candelier light and smooth improvised jazz, Danny instead chose baser pass times. His haunts of choice were the red light district hotels, the seedy underground pubs, the truck stops on the freeway into town and the quiet darkness of the city parks. There he could indulge in what he truly loved - bondage, raunchiness and submission.\n\nHe played a dangerous game, walking the fine line between his two lives. Of course everyone in his office would have some secret vice they didn’t want found out, but Danny felt his was particularly egregious. His boss would certainly look down on him for being a cum guzzling slut every Friday evening, taking any cock he could find under his gold and white-tipped tail and into his stubby little muzzle. No - executives and traders needed to be authoritative, dominant, strong and inspirational to those under them. Danny’s nighttime escapades in the brothels and the seedy, dirty bars would inspire only loathing and disgust.\n\nThere was danger on the other side too. While in the office his risked his reputation and his careers, when he was out at night he risked his safety and his life. It wasn’t the bondage that frightened him. Most rigs he’d been string up in or contained inside were all very safe if not crude. He’d come close to suffocation and been threatened with some body modifications but all in the context of wild roleplay. The dangers were in the rampant drug use and the risk of sexual disease. He was vigilant about the first and proactive about the second, able to afford weekly visits to a very expensive, very confidential doctor who’d give him everything he needed to stay safe. \n\nBut there was the excitement. He didn’t want high class hookers. He didn’t want respectable courtesans or escorts. Gala dinners, movie premiers, grand openings - these were places he could get tickets to, to find fun and entertainment in a manner that more resembled his swanky apartment, fast car and designer clothes. But he liked things rough. He liked being smacked around. He loved feeling the burn in his ass when he was taken again and again by strangers. He loved the smell of sex and leather, of chains and rubber. It was the highlight of his working week.\n\nHe was always on the lookout for new adventures. The club scene was fun but repetitive: he’d been fucked on pool tables more often than he had in beds, and had sucked so many cocks in backroom bathrooms the scent of a male’s nuts was irrevocably linked to the scent of bleach and urinal soap. Now and then he’d find exciting roleplayers, ones that would take him on journeys both physically and sensationally. He’d been through many such scenarios - from playing a lost westerner in a native tribe to naughty schoolboy kept in for detention; from a prisoner being taken by ruthless guards to a promiscuous patient receiving a thorough examination from his doctor. He knew the people that made it happen, and one Thursday night he received an invitation, one he accepted in a heartbeat.\n\nFriends of a friend, they were. He’d not met them before, but there were pictures of them attached to the email and boy were the pair hot. For a lithe average sized fox like Danny, strong, tall and beefy guys were the kind that really for his heart pumping and his cock hard. One was a german shepherd with the usual black and brown colouration, but he was tall and noble looking with a muscular build and a broad, pointed face. The other was an arctic wolf, of ice white fur and brilliant blue eyes, who looked more sharp and cruel than his companion, being thinner and shorter but more defined with his bulging, athletic muscles.\n\nThey’d rented out a barn over on a farm somewhere out in the country. It was one of those special farms that rented out their property to hen and stag parties, to pornographers and to wealthy individuals looking for some questionable fun in a private, rural setting. The premise was simple. The pair were looking for a special bitch to treat like livestock for the night. Danny’s name had invariably been mentioned somewhere down the line and here he was, driving as the sun set through the November evening towards the blip on his sat nav.\n\nHe’d never tried pony play before. He assumed that was what the pair had in mind. There was a certain appeal to it of course. Many a times he’s been in a full bodied gimp suit, but never a pony suit. Having blinkers, hooves and reins all seemed like they could be fun additions to the usual bondage equipment. Then again they might not have any of those trappings. They might just have him naked and on all fours, servicing them in the mud of a farmyard or in the musky interior of a hay filled barn. He might be whipped or branded - some physical torture to liven things up. Danny was certainly open minded enough to give such things a go, so long as the after effects were easy to conceal under his suit.\n\nHe could see lights in the distance. The small country roads wound in the growing darkness without any lighting of their own, making the bright headlights of a parked car in the distance appear as a lighthouse beacon. It had been a long drive - almost two hours. They were certainly far from civilised eyes, and most likely the arm of the law. If his potential masters planned to conduct some illegal activity, then Danny would be rather helpless. He considered - on previous occasions when meeting knew people - arming himself. A pistol in the car, he’d thought, before realising such a prospect was useless. He was going to agree to getting tied up and abused. Having a gun would do little in that sort of situation, in a car or otherwise. He had only his faith in his fellow perverts, sadists and masochists to keep him safe.\n\nAgain that made him tingle with excitement. The danger, the thrill of the unknown; it contrasted so wonderfully to his sterile, risk-averse corporate work life. Out here, in the dark countryside, there were no safety nets. He was on his own, free to explore whatever dark sexual fantasies he had and endure their consequences in full. He squirmed in his leather seat, feeling his underwear tighten as his cock stirred in his sheath. \n\nGuided by both his sat nav and the headlights of the parked car, he wound his way up a small dirt road to an open lot before a barn. In the gloom he could see various other buildings of the farmstead - the owner’s house furthest away with silos, barns and storage buildings cluttered between them. Things moved in the dark pastures, both crops swaying gently in the night breeze and animals - wild or domesticated - getting up to their nocturnal mischief, just like Danny. There were two figures standing against the bonnet of the parked car, chatting between themselves as they watched Danny park up. Here they were, the fox thought. He steadied himself and put on his bravest face, filling himself with the social confidence that he exuded at work.\n\n“Evening gentlemen,” Danny said stepping over, the dirt and gravel under his shoes crunching. He was in full view of the headlights, illuminating his casual clothing. They were throw away clothes really, ones he wouldn’t mind being ripped or soiled. Just loose track bottoms and a t-shirt. It did nothing to hide his sleek, handsome form and his already somewhat bulging groin.\n\nThe pair stepped into the light too, though they were already appropriately dressed; or rather, undressed. Both wore nothing but leather boots and jockstraps, the elastic and cotton cladding their handsome groins and pert asses with fur-tight perfection. Their fur kept them warm in the cool night air, with the chilling nip having no effect on their own half hard arousals.\n\n“Our toy’s here,” the arctic wolf grunted with a wry smile. “He’s cute.”\n\n“Sure is,” the taller german shepherd replied, giving his nuts a grope. “Hope he’s every bit as flexible as we were promised.”\n\n“I sure am,” Danny said, offering his paw to them to shake. “The name is Danny.”\n\nThe arctic wolf reached out but not to grab the fox’s paw, but his head instead. The firm paw pushed down, applying a steady pressure that had Danny falling gradually to his knees. Rather than resist as he might by day, he went with it, feeling the natural thrill of submitting taking hold. The fact that the arctic wolf was so casual in pushing Danny around, in getting right to the point, made his heart flutter and his cock throb. He was soon facing the larger male’s jock-clad groin, the musk of the flesh and fur beneath radiating out on the body heat.\n\n“Your name is pig,” the arctic wolf said. “You can call us either Master or Sir.”\n\n“Yes Sir,” Danny answered affirmatively, already showing the enthusiasm that the dominant pair had been told of.\n\nThe arctic wolf pulled his jock strap down to let his huge balls and expanding sheath flop free, the heavy orbs swinging forward almost knocking right against Danny’s face. The fox didn’t recoil, instead he leaned in, pressed his black nose to the musky and thinly furred flesh before sniffing, drawing in the rich, powerful scent of his new master.\n\n“Looks like he’s a natural,” the german shepherd said, getting out of his own jock strap, leaving the pair in just their boots. To his pleasure and surprise, the shepherd was given a sniff between his nethers too, their pet and plaything showing that he was no stranger the smelling and serving those on top of him. A cold and damp little nose was shoved into that fragrant, furry nutsack, delving for the rich flavours to be found there.\n\n“Think we should take him to the barn? Get him into his new role?” The wolf asked, stroking his slender canine cock as it emerge from the sheath, eyeing over the kneeling fox with hungry intent.\n\n“Yeah,” the shepherd said with a grunt, feeling the first touch of slimy heat at the opening of his own tubular sheath, where Danny had been so bold and forward to kiss at the flesh there, eager to get a taste of hot, throbbing meat in his mouth. Rather than have Danny suck him off though, the shepherd roughly kicked the fox away and barked at him - “Strip, pig. Livestock doesn’t need clothes.”\n\n“Yes Sir,” Danny answered obediently, loving the firmness with which he was being treated. There was no compassion in their voices and no sign of equality in their postures. These two hunks meant business, and Danny was all too happy to give them his body in all its capacities. Quickly he hurried out of his clothes, taking everything off including his shoes and underwear. His neat but dense fur coat kept the heat in nicely, with its golden-yellow and white colouration. Only on his pink paw pads and on his exposed, rock hard cock did he feel the cold in the air.\n\nHe stayed on his knees, knowing that if he were to be playing a pig then they would expect him to walk about like one. This was a farmyard after all so he had to get into character. He wanted to be a dirty, raunchy pig. He wanted to bury his snout in their asses and taste their cum. He was ready to be humiliated and abused and treated like the simple, dumb animal he was.\n\n“Come pig,” the arctic fox ordered, pulling a flashing out from their car before making his way across the yard. The german shepherd remained back - he was going to walk behind Danny and ensure obedience. Such measures weren’t neccesary given the fox’s complete submission. He plodded forwards on paws and knees, dirt and mud welling up between his fingers slick from an earlier rain. He could feel it staining his fur, cold and sticky, but this was what pigs loved and so it was what he loved. He only hoped that his masters wouldn’t mind him being dirty for their actual service later on.\n\nThe arctic wolf entered into a side door in one of the large barns. A light was switched on and Danny walked on through behind him. He was looking at what looked like a sort of kitchen, or an abattoir preparation room. It was tiled with drains in the floor, while against the walls were surfaces and sinks. There were drawers and racks with utensils and tools, which gleamed and shone in the fluorescent light that buzzed from the long, cold light strips overhead. It was a frightening sort of place; it had a smell of antiseptic like that of a dentist’s surgery, boasting the same clinical austerity that sent a shiver down the dirtied fox’s spine.\n\nThe shepherd closed the door behind them, locking it shut with the deadbolt. Before there had been the quiet but ever present sound of the breeze, of crickets, of nightbirds - things that now were utterly gone. In the small little room there was only the sound of the buzzing light and the breathing lungs of all three males. It seemed suffocating in its silence, intense and airtight. It made Danny’s arousal throb all the more between his legs. He could taste the danger. It was electrifying.\n\nHe watched as the arctic wolf fumbled around in the draws, pulling out, at long last, an electric razor. It was a heavy duty sort, the kind they used to shear sheep, with a broad head and reasonably blunt blades hidden away in the plastic prongs. A long plastic clad cable connected it to one of the few wall sockets. The wolf switched it on and grinned, the device shaking in his paw as it hummed with its heavy vibration.\n\n“Time for a shave, pig,” he said with devilish glee. “Got to have you looking the part.”\n\n“You mean everything?” Danny asked nervously. If the pair were planning to shave him entirely then that would break one of his important rules, namely that he wouldn’t be able to hide the results at work. He didn’t know how long it took to grow back a full coat of adult fur, but he knew it would be longer than a weekend. He suspected it would be longer than a week.\n\nRather than get a direct answer he got a kick to the ribs from the shepherd standing beside him. Blinding pain shot through the fox’s body as he slumped to the floor, rolling to the wall as he held his bruised bones. He whimpered, having felt little in the way of such direct, forceful violence. Whipping, spanking, choking - these were things he were familiar with. Outright punching and kicking was new, and he didn’t appreciate it much.\n\n“First,” the german shepherd said menacingly as he lorded over the fallen fox, his heavy booted paw pressing down on Danny’s cheek, “you didn’t say Sir. Second, you don’t asked questions. You just nod and obey, got that pig?”\n\n“But I’ve got work on Monday! I can’t go-”\n\nHe was silenced when that heavy boot pressed painfully down onto his face. He felt his teeth and jaw sinking into his cheek, the soft flesh starting to cut and bleed as he was forcibly stepped on. He cried out in pain, eyes filling with tears; it was only a yelp for mercy that had the boot lifted from him, his cheek now imprinted with the muddy pattern of the undersole.\n\nThey yanked him up, not wishing to hear any further complaints. The larger german shepherd held him from behind, pinning their two bodies together, while the arctic wolf got to work on shaving every inch of the fox’s body. It was deeply humiliating; never had Danny been so helpless. This treatment was going to last a long time, with every square inch left bare being one he would look on for days to come. Chest, arms, legs - even his face were all shaven bare. Not an inch of him was spared the cruelty of the transformation. He dare not speak a word, but his masters were casually taunting and mocking, enjoying their pig taking shape before their eyes - their pig that remained hard despite his whimpers and protests.\n\n“Right, up on the table pig,” the arctic wolf said as he put the shaver down, having fully sheared every patch of Danny’s once proud fur. The order wasn’t aimed at Danny, but at the strapped shepherd holding him. The bare and pink fox struggled at first as he was thrown onto the cold, firm metal slab that jutted from the wall, looking much like a surgical table. With no fur to shield him from the chill the metal felt cold enough to freeze him to it. He whimpered and whined, grunting as his arms and legs were spread and tied down to hooking points at the side.\n\nA firm slap smacked his pink, smooth asscheeks. “Did a good job,” the shepherd said to his friend. “He’s looking more piggish already. That’s before he’s wallowing in the mud too.”\n\nEven the trauma of being shaved and so brutally handled had not been enough to soften the fox’s cock - the cruel words being spoken encouraged it too. If it weren’t for the frightful cold of the steel table on his skin he would have maintained that dripping erection. As it was though, his meat was sliding back into its snug home, one that had been robbed of its fur coating like everything else. They had certainly been thorough.\n\nBelly down and facing the wall he could not see what they were planning next, nor could he turn to look behind him with his body bound down. But he could hear, and the sounds send a terrible shiver down his spine, one that was of fear and not just the cold. It was the sound of metal tools, of sharp instruments sliding free of whatever pockets and storage they had been neatly kept inside. \n\n“What are you doing?” The very nervous and uncertain fox asked, forgetting the rules that he had been ordered to follow. He was punished for his last of respect when he felt a firm, rough hand grab his perfectly shaven ballsack, yanking the sensitive orbs out behind him between his stretched legs. The fingers pinched at the neck of his scrotum, squeezing the cord that linked the swollen, precious testicles to the body. He was expecting to feel a slap or a whip upon them - ball busting and torture was something he had experimented before, but today it would be much worse.\n\n“You’re got an attitude problem, like a lot of boars piggy,” the arctic wolf said with a devilish, fiendish grin in his voice. “We’ll see if you’re still so wild once we’ve neutered you.”\n\n“Neutered?” Danny spluttered. “No, wait, you can’t! I didn’t agree to that!”\n\nNow, with a desperate vigor he knew not himself capable, the fox tried to pull himself from the table. The ropes on his arms were far too tight though, and the result was little more than a chuckle from his captors.\n\n“Hey, mind pacifying him? Hard to make a clean cut when he’s struggling so much,” the arctic wolf said to his companion. A second later, after the sound of the shepherd moving around, came a heavy, dull thwack to the back of Danny’s head. It must have been something firmer and heavier than a balled up paw. A piece of wood, or a pipe perhaps. The fox didn’t know. His vision blurred as the heat and pain of the blow spread across his head. Dizziness took hold. His body felt numb and sluggish. Was he concussed? Was he about to black out? Regardless, it stopped his struggling, and allowed the arctic wolf to do as he please.\n\nDanny felt only a dull nick into the neck of his balls. In his stupor he couldn’t feel much more. His tender, pink testicles were pulled out the smooth, fleshy sack and stretched on their cords. A sharp knife sliced through them, separating them, leaving the fox emasculated and neutered. He felt a strange weightlessness between his legs then. He knew he had been violated, had been abused and broken in so cruel a way. It was mutilation. Like livestock he had been robbed of his sexual organs with a view to make him passive and amiable.\n\nOnce the wound was sewn up the two masters were keen to use their new pig. They undone his bindings and threw the dizzy, stunned and utterly humiliated fox to the floor. He drooled over his lip, his eye twitching, quite unable to process everything that was happening to him. He simply obeyed, plodding after his cruel masters as they led him into the barn on a leash. The smell of hay, of manure and of oats filled his nose. He could feel soft muck on the ground, stinking manure and mud in which the straw was thrown. It dirtied him, but he was a pig now - he’d have to get used to it. \n\nThey threw him atop a hay bale, his ass and mouth on level with the two hard, eager cocks that minutes ago he had been eager to serve. Now, mindless and broken, the pig saw them with flat, factual resignation. He’d been turned into a sex slave, a true object, one for their pleasure. He could smell the hot, thick musk. He could feel the heat. He could taste their raw masculinity. Trembling, with tears in his eyes, he opened his mouth and the arctic wolf face fuck him.\n\nThe salty taste of precum flooded his mouth. The dry bristles of the wolf’s pubic fur brushed against his wet nose whenever the virile male slammed himself deep into the gaping throat. Lewd, loud schlucking noises escaped the broken, neutered pig as he sucked and slurped, having his gullet plundered without care or regard to comfort.\n\nHis ass was handled in the same manner - with brutal disdain. With just a spattering of saliva for lube, the german shepherd was quick to plunge his drooling cock into the snug asshole, holding Danny’s shaven tail for support as he bred the pig. That’s what they were doing - breeding him. These were deep strokes, raw and unprotected. Precum and then seed were flowing into him, filling him, making his stomach slosh with cum and his ass slick. The joked and insulted him even as they fucked and shot their loads, gleefully and sadistically enjoying the plunder they had earned themselves.\n\nYet when they were done they made it clear their intent. Danny wasn’t to go home, or rather, not to return to the city, to his former life with his job and his apartment. No - his home was here now, on the farm. He was a pig. A sex slave for the pair to visit whenever they wanted a casual hole to fuck and a plaything to abuse. They left him there, in the stables, with just the straw and hay to keep him warm that cold November night. Dripping, naked, in pain and shock, Danny curled himself up when the lights went out and huddled inwardly on himself, tentatively touching the sewn up wound of his balls.\n\nHe really was a pig now. They’d made good on their promise. Now he had to make good on his.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "To those that knew him, Danny Todd was your archetypal high flier. He was youthful, energetic, outgoing and smart. The fox had a head for numbers and a way with business that afforded him a meteoric career in finance. Within three years of graduating from college he was earning a six figure salary, living in the fanciest part of the city with all the little luxuries that made life worth living. His colleagues admired him, his friends envied him, but there was one thing about Danny that no one knew, a secret that he kept very well to himself.

That was his night life.

When the other bankers and insurers would take a Friday night in the wine bars atop skyscrapers or the luxurious hotel lobbies full of candelier light and smooth improvised jazz, Danny instead chose baser pass times. His haunts of choice were the red light district hotels, the seedy underground pubs, the truck stops on the freeway into town and the quiet darkness of the city parks. There he could indulge in what he truly loved - bondage, raunchiness and submission.

He played a dangerous game, walking the fine line between his two lives. Of course everyone in his office would have some secret vice they didn’t want found out, but Danny felt his was particularly egregious. His boss would certainly look down on him for being a cum guzzling slut every Friday evening, taking any cock he could find under his gold and white-tipped tail and into his stubby little muzzle. No - executives and traders needed to be authoritative, dominant, strong and inspirational to those under them. Danny’s nighttime escapades in the brothels and the seedy, dirty bars would inspire only loathing and disgust.

There was danger on the other side too. While in the office his risked his reputation and his careers, when he was out at night he risked his safety and his life. It wasn’t the bondage that frightened him. Most rigs he’d been string up in or contained inside were all very safe if not crude. He’d come close to suffocation and been threatened with some body modifications but all in the context of wild roleplay. The dangers were in the rampant drug use and the risk of sexual disease. He was vigilant about the first and proactive about the second, able to afford weekly visits to a very expensive, very confidential doctor who’d give him everything he needed to stay safe.

But there was the excitement. He didn’t want high class hookers. He didn’t want respectable courtesans or escorts. Gala dinners, movie premiers, grand openings - these were places he could get tickets to, to find fun and entertainment in a manner that more resembled his swanky apartment, fast car and designer clothes. But he liked things rough. He liked being smacked around. He loved feeling the burn in his ass when he was taken again and again by strangers. He loved the smell of sex and leather, of chains and rubber. It was the highlight of his working week.

He was always on the lookout for new adventures. The club scene was fun but repetitive: he’d been fucked on pool tables more often than he had in beds, and had sucked so many cocks in backroom bathrooms the scent of a male’s nuts was irrevocably linked to the scent of bleach and urinal soap. Now and then he’d find exciting roleplayers, ones that would take him on journeys both physically and sensationally. He’d been through many such scenarios - from playing a lost westerner in a native tribe to naughty schoolboy kept in for detention; from a prisoner being taken by ruthless guards to a promiscuous patient receiving a thorough examination from his doctor. He knew the people that made it happen, and one Thursday night he received an invitation, one he accepted in a heartbeat.

Friends of a friend, they were. He’d not met them before, but there were pictures of them attached to the email and boy were the pair hot. For a lithe average sized fox like Danny, strong, tall and beefy guys were the kind that really for his heart pumping and his cock hard. One was a german shepherd with the usual black and brown colouration, but he was tall and noble looking with a muscular build and a broad, pointed face. The other was an arctic wolf, of ice white fur and brilliant blue eyes, who looked more sharp and cruel than his companion, being thinner and shorter but more defined with his bulging, athletic muscles.

They’d rented out a barn over on a farm somewhere out in the country. It was one of those special farms that rented out their property to hen and stag parties, to pornographers and to wealthy individuals looking for some questionable fun in a private, rural setting. The premise was simple. The pair were looking for a special bitch to treat like livestock for the night. Danny’s name had invariably been mentioned somewhere down the line and here he was, driving as the sun set through the November evening towards the blip on his sat nav.

He’d never tried pony play before. He assumed that was what the pair had in mind. There was a certain appeal to it of course. Many a times he’s been in a full bodied gimp suit, but never a pony suit. Having blinkers, hooves and reins all seemed like they could be fun additions to the usual bondage equipment. Then again they might not have any of those trappings. They might just have him naked and on all fours, servicing them in the mud of a farmyard or in the musky interior of a hay filled barn. He might be whipped or branded - some physical torture to liven things up. Danny was certainly open minded enough to give such things a go, so long as the after effects were easy to conceal under his suit.

He could see lights in the distance. The small country roads wound in the growing darkness without any lighting of their own, making the bright headlights of a parked car in the distance appear as a lighthouse beacon. It had been a long drive - almost two hours. They were certainly far from civilised eyes, and most likely the arm of the law. If his potential masters planned to conduct some illegal activity, then Danny would be rather helpless. He considered - on previous occasions when meeting knew people - arming himself. A pistol in the car, he’d thought, before realising such a prospect was useless. He was going to agree to getting tied up and abused. Having a gun would do little in that sort of situation, in a car or otherwise. He had only his faith in his fellow perverts, sadists and masochists to keep him safe.

Again that made him tingle with excitement. The danger, the thrill of the unknown; it contrasted so wonderfully to his sterile, risk-averse corporate work life. Out here, in the dark countryside, there were no safety nets. He was on his own, free to explore whatever dark sexual fantasies he had and endure their consequences in full.  He squirmed in his leather seat, feeling his underwear tighten as his cock stirred in his sheath.

Guided by both his sat nav and the headlights of the parked car, he wound his way up a small dirt road to an open lot before a barn. In the gloom he could see various other buildings of the farmstead - the owner’s house furthest away with silos, barns and storage buildings cluttered between them. Things moved in the dark pastures, both crops swaying gently in the night breeze and animals - wild or domesticated - getting up to their nocturnal mischief, just like Danny. There were two figures standing against the bonnet of the parked car, chatting between themselves as they watched Danny park up. Here they were, the fox thought. He steadied himself and put on his bravest face, filling himself with the social confidence that he exuded at work.

“Evening gentlemen,” Danny said stepping over, the dirt and gravel under his shoes crunching. He was in full view of the headlights, illuminating his casual clothing. They were throw away clothes really, ones he wouldn’t mind being ripped or soiled. Just loose track bottoms and a t-shirt. It did nothing to hide his sleek, handsome form and his already somewhat bulging groin.

The pair stepped into the light too, though they were already appropriately dressed; or rather, undressed. Both wore nothing but leather boots and jockstraps, the elastic and cotton cladding their handsome groins and pert asses with fur-tight perfection. Their fur kept them warm in the cool night air, with the chilling nip having no effect on their own half hard arousals.

“Our toy’s here,” the arctic wolf grunted with a wry smile. “He’s cute.”

“Sure is,” the taller german shepherd replied, giving his nuts a grope. “Hope he’s every bit as flexible as we were promised.”

“I sure am,” Danny said, offering his paw to them to shake. “The name is Danny.”

The arctic wolf reached out but not to grab the fox’s paw, but his head instead. The firm paw pushed down, applying a steady pressure that had Danny falling gradually to his knees. Rather than resist as he might by day, he went with it, feeling the natural thrill of submitting taking hold. The fact that the arctic wolf was so casual in pushing Danny around, in getting right to the point, made his heart flutter and his cock throb. He was soon facing the larger male’s jock-clad groin, the musk of the flesh and fur beneath radiating out on the body heat.

“Your name is pig,” the arctic wolf said. “You can call us either Master or Sir.”

“Yes Sir,” Danny answered affirmatively, already showing the enthusiasm that the dominant pair had been told of.

The arctic wolf pulled his jock strap down to let his huge balls and expanding sheath flop free, the heavy orbs swinging forward almost knocking right against Danny’s face. The fox didn’t recoil, instead he leaned in, pressed his black nose to the musky and thinly furred flesh before sniffing, drawing in the rich, powerful scent of his new master.

“Looks like he’s a natural,” the german shepherd said, getting out of his own jock strap, leaving the pair in just their boots. To his pleasure and surprise, the shepherd was given a sniff between his nethers too, their pet and plaything showing that he was no stranger the smelling and serving those on top of him. A cold and damp little nose was shoved into that fragrant, furry nutsack, delving for the rich flavours to be found there.

“Think we should take him to the barn? Get him into his new role?” The wolf asked, stroking his slender canine cock as it emerge from the sheath, eyeing over the kneeling fox with hungry intent.

“Yeah,” the shepherd said with a grunt, feeling the first touch of slimy heat at the opening of his own tubular sheath, where Danny had been so bold and forward to kiss at the flesh there, eager to get a taste of hot, throbbing meat in his mouth. Rather than have Danny suck him off though, the shepherd roughly kicked the fox away and barked at him - “Strip, pig. Livestock doesn’t need clothes.”

“Yes Sir,” Danny answered obediently, loving the firmness with which he was being treated. There was no compassion in their voices and no sign of equality in their postures. These two hunks meant business, and Danny was all too happy to give them his body in all its capacities. Quickly he hurried out of his clothes, taking everything off including his shoes and underwear. His neat but dense fur coat kept the heat in nicely, with its golden-yellow and white colouration. Only on his pink paw pads and on his exposed, rock hard cock did he feel the cold in the air.

He stayed on his knees, knowing that if he were to be playing a pig then they would expect him to walk about like one. This was a farmyard after all so he had to get into character. He wanted to be a dirty, raunchy pig. He wanted to bury his snout in their asses and taste their cum. He was ready to be humiliated and abused and treated like the simple, dumb animal he was.

“Come pig,” the arctic fox ordered, pulling a flashing out from their car before making his way across the yard. The german shepherd remained back - he was going to walk behind Danny and ensure obedience. Such measures weren’t neccesary given the fox’s complete submission. He plodded forwards on paws and knees, dirt and mud welling up between his fingers slick from an earlier rain. He could feel it staining his fur, cold and sticky, but this was what pigs loved and so it was what he loved. He only hoped that his masters wouldn’t mind him being dirty for their actual service later on.

The arctic wolf entered into a side door in one of the large barns. A light was switched on and Danny walked on through behind him. He was looking at what looked like a sort of kitchen, or an abattoir preparation room. It was tiled with drains in the floor, while against the walls were surfaces and sinks. There were drawers and racks with utensils and tools, which gleamed and shone in the fluorescent light that buzzed from the long, cold light strips overhead. It was a frightening sort of place; it had a smell of antiseptic like that of a dentist’s surgery, boasting the same clinical austerity that sent a shiver down the dirtied fox’s spine.

The shepherd closed the door behind them, locking it shut with the deadbolt. Before there had been the quiet but ever present sound of the breeze, of crickets, of nightbirds - things that now were utterly gone. In the small little room there was only the sound of the buzzing light and the breathing lungs of all three males. It seemed suffocating in its silence, intense and airtight. It made Danny’s arousal throb all the more between his legs. He could taste the danger. It was electrifying.

He watched as the arctic wolf fumbled around in the draws, pulling out, at long last, an electric razor. It was a heavy duty sort, the kind they used to shear sheep, with a broad head and reasonably blunt blades hidden away in the plastic prongs. A long plastic clad cable connected it to one of the few wall sockets. The wolf switched it on and grinned, the device shaking in his paw as it hummed with its heavy vibration.

“Time for a shave, pig,” he said with devilish glee. “Got to have you looking the part.”

“You mean everything?” Danny asked nervously. If the pair were planning to shave him entirely then that would break one of his important rules, namely that he wouldn’t be able to hide the results at work. He didn’t know how long it took to grow back a full coat of adult fur, but he knew it would be longer than a weekend. He suspected it would be longer than a week.

Rather than get a direct answer he got a kick to the ribs from the shepherd standing beside him. Blinding pain shot through the fox’s body as he slumped to the floor, rolling to the wall as he held his bruised bones. He whimpered, having felt little in the way of such direct, forceful violence. Whipping, spanking, choking - these were things he were familiar with. Outright punching and kicking was new, and he didn’t appreciate it much.

“First,” the german shepherd said menacingly as he lorded over the fallen fox, his heavy booted paw pressing down on Danny’s cheek, “you didn’t say Sir. Second, you don’t asked questions. You just nod and obey, got that pig?”

“But I’ve got work on Monday! I can’t go-”

He was silenced when that heavy boot pressed painfully down onto his face. He felt his teeth and jaw sinking into his cheek, the soft flesh starting to cut and bleed as he was forcibly stepped on. He cried out in pain, eyes filling with tears; it was only a yelp for mercy that had the boot lifted from him, his cheek now imprinted with the muddy pattern of the undersole.

They yanked him up, not wishing to hear any further complaints. The larger german shepherd held him from behind, pinning their two bodies together, while the arctic wolf got to work on shaving every inch of the fox’s body. It was deeply humiliating; never had Danny been so helpless. This treatment was going to last a long time, with every square inch left bare being one he would look on for days to come. Chest, arms, legs - even his face were all shaven bare. Not an inch of him was spared the cruelty of the transformation. He dare not speak a word, but his masters were casually taunting and mocking, enjoying their pig taking shape before their eyes - their pig that remained hard despite his whimpers and protests.

“Right, up on the table pig,” the arctic wolf said as he put the shaver down, having fully sheared every patch of Danny’s once proud fur. The order wasn’t aimed at Danny, but at the strapped shepherd holding him. The bare and pink fox struggled at first as he was thrown onto the cold, firm metal slab that jutted from the wall, looking much like a surgical table. With no fur to shield him from the chill the metal felt cold enough to freeze him to it. He whimpered and whined, grunting as his arms and legs were spread and tied down to hooking points at the side.

A firm slap smacked his pink, smooth asscheeks. “Did a good job,” the shepherd said to his friend. “He’s looking more piggish already. That’s before he’s wallowing in the mud too.”

Even the trauma of being shaved and so brutally handled had not been enough to soften the fox’s cock - the cruel words being spoken encouraged it too. If it weren’t for the frightful cold of the steel table on his skin he would have maintained that dripping erection. As it was though, his meat was sliding back into its snug home, one that had been robbed of its fur coating like everything else. They had certainly been thorough.

Belly down and facing the wall he could not see what they were planning next, nor could he turn to look behind him with his body bound down. But he could hear, and the sounds send a terrible shiver down his spine, one that was of fear and not just the cold. It was the sound of metal tools, of sharp instruments sliding free of whatever pockets and storage they had been neatly kept inside.

“What are you doing?” The very nervous and uncertain fox asked, forgetting the rules that he had been ordered to follow. He was punished for his last of respect when he felt a firm, rough hand grab his perfectly shaven ballsack, yanking the sensitive orbs out behind him between his stretched legs. The fingers pinched at the neck of his scrotum, squeezing the cord that linked the swollen, precious testicles to the body. He was expecting to feel a slap or a whip upon them - ball busting and torture was something he had experimented before, but today it would be much worse.

“You’re got an attitude problem, like a lot of boars piggy,” the arctic wolf said with a devilish, fiendish grin in his voice. “We’ll see if you’re still so wild once we’ve neutered you.”

“Neutered?” Danny spluttered. “No, wait, you can’t! I didn’t agree to that!”

Now, with a desperate vigor he knew not himself capable, the fox tried to pull himself from the table. The ropes on his arms were far too tight though, and the result was little more than a chuckle from his captors.

“Hey, mind pacifying him? Hard to make a clean cut when he’s struggling so much,” the arctic wolf said to his companion. A second later, after the sound of the shepherd moving around, came a heavy, dull thwack to the back of Danny’s head. It must have been something firmer and heavier than a balled up paw. A piece of wood, or a pipe perhaps. The fox didn’t know. His vision blurred as the heat and pain of the blow spread across his head. Dizziness took hold. His body felt numb and sluggish. Was he concussed? Was he about to black out? Regardless, it stopped his struggling, and allowed the arctic wolf to do as he please.

Danny felt only a dull nick into the neck of his balls. In his stupor he couldn’t feel much more. His tender, pink testicles were pulled out the smooth, fleshy sack and stretched on their cords. A sharp knife sliced through them, separating them, leaving the fox emasculated and neutered. He felt a strange weightlessness between his legs then. He knew he had been violated, had been abused and broken in so cruel a way. It was mutilation. Like livestock he had been robbed of his sexual organs with a view to make him passive and amiable.

Once the wound was sewn up the two masters were keen to use their new pig. They undone his bindings and threw the dizzy, stunned and utterly humiliated fox to the floor. He drooled over his lip, his eye twitching, quite unable to process everything that was happening to him. He simply obeyed, plodding after his cruel masters as they led him into the barn on a leash. The smell of hay, of manure and of oats filled his nose. He could feel soft muck on the ground, stinking manure and mud in which the straw was thrown. It dirtied him, but he was a pig now - he’d have to get used to it.

They threw him atop a hay bale, his ass and mouth on level with the two hard, eager cocks that minutes ago he had been eager to serve. Now, mindless and broken, the pig saw them with flat, factual resignation. He’d been turned into a sex slave, a true object, one for their pleasure. He could smell the hot, thick musk. He could feel the heat. He could taste their raw masculinity. Trembling, with tears in his eyes, he opened his mouth and the arctic wolf face fuck him.

The salty taste of precum flooded his mouth. The dry bristles of the wolf’s pubic fur brushed against his wet nose whenever the virile male slammed himself deep into the gaping throat. Lewd, loud schlucking noises escaped the broken, neutered pig as he sucked and slurped, having his gullet plundered without care or regard to comfort.

His ass was handled in the same manner - with brutal disdain. With just a spattering of saliva for lube, the german shepherd was quick to plunge his drooling cock into the snug asshole, holding Danny’s shaven tail for support as he bred the pig. That’s what they were doing - breeding him. These were deep strokes, raw and unprotected. Precum and then seed were flowing into him, filling him, making his stomach slosh with cum and his ass slick. The joked and insulted him even as they fucked and shot their loads, gleefully and sadistically enjoying the plunder they had earned themselves.

Yet when they were done they made it clear their intent. Danny wasn’t to go home, or rather, not to return to the city, to his former life with his job and his apartment. No - his home was here now, on the farm. He was a pig. A sex slave for the pair to visit whenever they wanted a casual hole to fuck and a plaything to abuse. They left him there, in the stables, with just the straw and hay to keep him warm that cold November night. Dripping, naked, in pain and shock, Danny curled himself up when the lights went out and huddled inwardly on himself, tentatively touching the sewn up wound of his balls.

He really was a pig now. They’d made good on their promise. Now he had to make good on his.













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