Wolfu story

>You are anon
>A college student and a bit of a dork...
>Hahaha naw, that would be silly
>You're a professional merc with a heart of gold and thriving business in capturing the dregs of society and making them better people
>Or killing them, but that raises their lot in life on a more technical level
>You look over form your plate of food to take note that your lovely ocelot has fallen asleep on top of her hamburger and fries
>Lifting her snoozing body up gently you carry her lightweight frame upstairs, tucking her into bed before coming back down and trying to finish lunch
>You put her plate into a tupperware dish and place it in the fridge, finishing your meal in silence
>Part of you wants to go up and brush the lovely cooks fur until she couldn't handle your gentle hands anymore and jumped you, but unfortunately reality had other plans
>Your phone rings twice before you answer it, and you open up with your alibi just incase someone found your number on a bathroom stall and called it for fun
>"Rakeman interprises. We sell rakes. Only rakes. How can I help you?"
>A shaky voice on the other end asks if you're the legendary Raider from the one and only bla bla bla
>"No, I'm the milkman. My milk is delicious. What the fuck do you want?"
>You hear him break down and begin to whine about losing his wife, and some kind of horse hitting him with a bat
>"Wait wait wait. Hold up. Hey. HEY. Stop crying and explain to me what happened instead of being a totally bitch."
>He goes into detail on how his lovely Alexander Islands Wolf girlfriend was leaving him for some big dicked 7 foot Clydesdale
>"Well shit. Where are they?"
>He mumbles off a disgusting little trailer park on the edge of wolf country, so there is only one last thing that you need to know now
>"What's your name buddy?"
>He stammers out that his name is Opie and you hang up as he asks why

>Walking to your bedroom and into the closest while Paz gently purrs in her sleep on your bed, you start pulling out gear
>Stump clearing explosives, your favorite Ithaca 37, a box of riot slugs, and most importantly the shock collar
>You lay down the gear on the bed near Paz as she sleeps, walking into the closet entirely and fumbling around with a wall panel to find a hidden lever
>Pulling it slides a wall open, and you grab your operating gear from inside
>You've had to cut back on how deadly you can dress when operating, but the blacked out gear you have now isn't too far from what the local sway use
>The MSA millenium mask not only disguises your face but allows you to see perfectly even in smoke
>Your chest rig and armor provide amazing protection while looking nothing out of the ordinary as long as you prep for the arrival correctly
>While the boots are pretty standard steel toed nonslip, you're going for what you could only describe as "blue line camo" so it's perfect in that regard
>All dressed up and ready to go you mount your gear and shells into place, kneeling down to kiss Paz on her head
>Being a bit more naughty while you know she's asleep you carefully nibble her ear, causing her to let out a soft restrained moan under he breath
>You hope that's enough thanks for her delicious cooking for now, and walk out of your bedroom
>Happily leaving her mind to probably slow wander in dreamland, you head towards the garage as Slag throws pebbles at a normal bird pecking at your now growing garden
>"We're going on a mission slag. Get to the Raid Mobile."
>Spilling her beer and running to slide into the garage as the door opened, she seemed rather happy
>The rumble of a heavy diesel engine fills your ears as a disguised and uparmored Lenco Bearcat idles in the bay
>"GET IN YA CUNT. I NEED DIRECTIONS AND A TARGET."
>You tell her the trailer park from the back of the vehicle, fixing the turret ring so it can slide properly as she guns it and causes you to smack your head on the metal circle
>Your head spins as the laughing Raven floors it down country roads, signs blowing past you as you uncover various tools of your trade in the back
>Shoving everything you know won't be needed into the forward cab, you mount up a M240B on the roof turret, pop the black glass shield into place and load up the massive 2000 round ammo link
>She flips on the police lights at some point, only a mile or so out from your target
>When you enter the small community it's easy to see just how bad it is here
>Five trailers sit in a half moon around a dirt gathering area full of old chairs and a fire pit that's seen better days
>Heavy walls of scrap and trash keep out wild animals from entering, but also don't let any of the residents in the hellish hamlet get an easy escape if someone shows up suddenly
>A zombie looking meth head runs out from a pile of trash and screams for the houses to scatter, but everyone is hunkered down nice and hard or doesn't care about him
>Sliding out of the turret and down into the back section of the vehicle you call out to Slag to take the gun while you go inside and operate
>Loading six normal normal shells into your slightly extended Ithaca you fill your bandoleer with buckshot on the left side and a few riot slugs on the right
>You fix the bayonet, load up a satchel with explosive charges, and leap out while charging into the closest house to you to begin the hunt ASAP

>The door shatters under your heavy boots as you sweep the house with a shotgun, kicking open a second door to find two tweakers holding a baseball bat and screeching at you to leave
>Without a single pang of remorse you hold the trigger down and sweep your shotgun over them while pumping three times, filling the room with smoking lead
>Shattering every other door in the house turns up nothing as you run outside and into the next house while Slag keeps overwatch on the 240
>A sharp crack of automatic fire is heard as you slam into the second house, Slag putting a deer with a hunting rifle down before they have the chance to take aim at her
>A fearful fox is clutching a pan in your hands and crying as you walk forward, blood shaking loose from your gloves as you bring up the 12 gauge to head level
>Her quick glance behind you causes you to instinctively grip the stock in your palm and drive the full length of the gun under your shoulder and into the chest of a ram who looks stunned at your reaction
>His expression changes rapidly to pain as you pull the trigger while turning around, pulling your bayonet free before jamming it into his jaw and blowing his face off for a merciful death
>You slowly turn to face the fox as two smoking shells clatter to the ground, and you load more from the lethal side of your belt in
>"You want to join him or are you going to put the fucking pan down?"
>She drops the pan with a loud clunk, and follows your directions as you point her out the door and towards the waiting armored truck
>You walk over to the gas stove she was standing in front of, placing a single charge into the oven portion before walking back outside
>Slag is quick to jump down inside the vehicle and pull her in, cuffing and gagging her before putting a bag over her head before putting up the separation bars between the gunner's small section with ammo and the read holding area
>Nothing outside stirs as you rush towards the next house, so you assume the dark tinted gunner shield must make it seem as if Slag is just the catcher for your team while the Pitcher in the gun nest keeps a constant overwatch on her
>You can only wonder if you were brilliant or they were just as dull as a butter knife that had slammed into a few too many porcelain plates

>The third house you come into has an angry horse that empties both barrels of an old shotgun into you, causing you to fall off of the steps and hit the ground
>As he runs out to assault you with a bat Slag opens up on him, a carefully placed round blowing through his left shin as the rest mulch his right arm up
>He screams out in pain as you rip his belt off of his pants and tighten it over the stump that remains of his arm, slowing the bleeding as Slag barks orders for him to lay down flat
>In his pained state he can't understand or doesn't want to listen so you smack the butt of your shotgun into the back of his head, and he hits the ground while his eyes roll around in his skull like bouncy balls in a blender
>Inside on the couch is your target, half clothed and eyes full of fear
>Time to capitalize on that, and use the voice altering gas mask to your benefit
>"Come with me if you want to live. Your old pack sent us to clear out this shit hole for the bounties on the druggies and cons you've been associating with. They didn't seem to indicate that you were high on their list, but your old flame begged for me not to kill you. I'm not sure why. If that horse has been enjoying you the onset of muscular distrophy due to his big old pecker ramming you is probably already starting up. If you were here much longer the muscles would probably start to loosen up permanently and-"
>Enraged by your big complex words she rushes you as you carefully load a riot slug into the chamber, unleashing into her belly just an inch or two before she would have impaled herself on your bayonet
>"And makes your snatch into a hole pole. You do know that using one of those fuckers long term makes you unable to feel pleasure correctly right? He can't even fit the entire thing in until it starts doing some real damage. If I was a cruel man I'd put you out of your misery since your old buddy doesn't even want you back."
>You offer her your hand as she struggles to get up, her abs clearly bruised from your shot
>She begrudgingly takes your hand as you put years of Psy-ops field work into use
>"He doesn't care if you don't come back to him sweety, just that you're safe. And judging by the company you keep he was more concerned for your safety than he was hurt by your betrayal. The marks of a man better than that shit draft horse that tried to kill a cop on the way in. Must be one warped SOB if he made you think he really loved him. Can't believe I'm not using a shell on your sorry ass, but unless you want to stay here and cook you should come with me either way."
>You throw a charge over her back and near a propane grill set up in a ruined kitchen, walking her gently to the door as she looks around and realizes the squalor she was living in
>A hot wave of shame rushes over her as you walk out, cuffing her and walking her out to Slag
>She doesn't even resist as your words burrow into her head, hot tears washing her face as she gets a bag over her head

>The you sweep the next house and drag a half dead overdosing Possum by her feet and just throw her in the back, not bothering with the bag as you throw explosives on a gas line under the trailer
>The final trailer is a simple rundown as you spot a meth lab and hear two men laughing from behind a thick metal door
>You plant a few charges on the lab and the last 7 on the door before rushing outside and rushing to the driver's seat
>Pulling a detonator out of the glovebox and pulling out to the entrance of the crack den to give a bit of distance between you and the explosion
>"I hope you guys like bootleg fireworks!"
>Click click, boom
>The vehicle shakes as a thunderous boom is muffled by the thick steel of your up-armored tank of a bang bus, debris slapping against the gunner's station as Slag laughs and cheers
>Driving back towards the smoking wreckage of the trailer park you investigate the rubble of the last house to find that sure enough the two smoldering corpses inside had a bunch of locked crates full of loot inside
>You fucking love unboxing lootcrates, and search for the keys quickly
>Grabbing at a keyring, you flinch and curse as it nearly burns through your gloves and stings your hand a bit
>"FUCK. I can't believe I gave myself the 'ol spicy keychain! You fucking rats need to buy better keys next time!"
>Pulling a jutting rib out of a smoldering corpse gives you an ample hook of sorts to pull the keys to the car with, dropping them onto the floor as Slag runs to grab the crates with you and heft them into the back with your slaves
>As you load up and make sure the three ladies and the potential glue jars are secure and in place Slag takes down the gunner's position and stores it in the vehicle so no one suspects anything
>Hearing sirens approaching from the opposite direction you came from, you gun it back towards the house with a full trunk full of goodies to bring in

>When you get home, unpacking is fast
>Slag grabs crates one by one and takes them to the basement as you follow behind with the possibly comatose Possum on your shoulder
>You slip underneath the stairs in your basement as fumble around in the pitch black darkness to find a hole in one of the boards, punching in a code and pushing in a brick near your foot
>Thick locking mechanisms tumble and the wall slides away to reveal a narrow hallway, ending in a large room set up with operating tables and many more torture devices than just in the basement
>To your left and right where reinforced cell doors that lead to 10 two person cells, five on either side of the hallway leading up to the toy room at the end
>You enter the first and carefully lay down the Possum while Slag loads up the wolf and Fox you captured into their own cells before unmasking their faces and uncuffing them
>Slag makes a call for a doctor on your payroll as you close the wall behind her, making the hidden section of the house look as if it was a building with no way in or out
>Paz knew that when you bought this house from the company you once worked for it was designed like this, and didn't seem to mind it
>If anything it put her at ease knowing that you had a proper way to hide your occasional money making ventures from accidental discovery or prying eyes
>Heck, a few times after you washed down the torture room she got surprisingly kinky and brought down some non lethal toys for a rather enjoyable role-playing session
>Cuddling and watching the saw movies after down there added a nice touch to the ambiance as well, leading to quite the date night
>But tonight wasn't date night, and you had work to do
>After the crates at least

>Opening them up reveals a solid amount of stuff you could easily pawn off
>Gold chains, watches, and some really damned nice satin rope you're going to keep for Paz
>The others contain a bit of cash with random numbers on them, and you realize that it made sense that druggies wouldn't put their money into banks
>Looks like these ladies paid for themselves immediately, which means that the wolf was going to get her own special breaking you hadn't done since you served the Lonely Hearts Gentleman's Club
>Pushing the crates into a corner you start making preparations for the three new ladies in your dungeon, making arrangements for a buyer to take the fox after you broke and weaned her off of drugs
>The Possum would have to recover a bit before you considered selling her, and you still had work to do to make the wolf break and bend happily
>Shame they couldn't break like birds did; it was always so very easy to break birds, what with how short their attention spans were and small their pain tolerances tended to be

>A week passes as you chat the wolf down into a darkness you pull her out of by drugging her food and speaking to her in your full combat gear, whittling her mind down with talks of how saving her was a waste
>The good doctor gave you a modeled penis from the horse, after taking most of his other vital organs and parts to take as his payment for healing up the Possum who was happily accepting her new life as a servant to be
>When you brought down the disturbingly accurate horse dildo to the wolf on the second week of breaking her she looked almost angry
>After you insulted her a bit in character as the cop, she let you know she was having the doc treat her shattered pussy with some meds and didn't want nasty horse cock
>When you ask her what she wants instead she looks away from you and tells you to go away, but you know exactly what she wants
>You have doc lie to your idiot customer and get a replica of his dong for the wolf, taking an inch or so off for psychological fuckery before saying it was a gift from her ex lover who heard she was lonely
>Any time she thinks she isn't being watched you hear her crying and happily enjoying the "big meaty human" you got her, unaware that you were slowly making her into the best and most loyal Bitch money could buy
>Okay, money could have bought; You honestly hoped that Opie would take her back, because breaking someone specifically for a certain owner is a bitch to undo
>On the fourth week you start having her dress in a maid outfit, and the fox's mental break was already completed
>Turns out she had a lot of drugs in her system like her Possum buddy, and once Possum and Foxy were clean, they both looked at this new life of servitude in a very positive manner
>So much so they were happily looking over catalogs of people who wanted to buy them, settling on a man whose Bio mentions he really wants some people to enjoy Warhammer 40K with

>You're about halfway a conference call with the man and his two happy maids/buddies to be when you hear the wolf slamming her fists in anger on the metal cell door
>"Continue telling these ladies why the tau are cowards while I deal with this issue."
>You slide open the door, full gear on so that she doesn't recognize your real face just, and she stares into the black void that is your face
>"I'm tired of this shit. I want to go home to Opie!"
>You laugh, putting your hand on her shoulder and walking her into the cell to sit down and talk with her
>"We're looking for a buyer for you sweetie. Unless you think that he would want you back I'm not sticking out my neck for you. And what exactly have you done to prove you're loyal?"
>She tries to find a rebuttal for you, but looks away from you as tears form and she begins to sob
>Cheerful questions and jitters from the two girls on the found outside only make it worse as she looks nearly suicidal with pain
>"I can't. I'm a worthless piece of shit that Opie didn't deserve. But please... let me at least see him. Give me a few minutes to talk."
>Perfect, she's worn herself out a bit earlier than you planned
>You play up your own conscious playing at you, and pat her on the head, rubbing her ears softly
>"If you're really that hurt by what you did I can at least take you to see him. Last I heard he was trying to date a Russian wolf but she wasn't his type. If you're lucky he'll decide to make you his servant and he can have you. No one wants damaged goods usually, but I'll call Raider and tell him to give you a ride."
>She perks up, ignoring your insults as she hugs you tightly, kissing your visor in thanks as her tail does loops
>It was technically true the Russian wolf didn't work out, but at the same time Svetlana was a nearly amazonian Rusky who had only wanted to see his bedroom combat skills
>You close the door behind her as you hear her almost immediately going at herself, excitement and most likely heat driving her to the fierce loyalty that customers wanted to see in their maids
>A quick change of clothes and putting up your combat gear for a while leads to you dressing up in some trippy ass Gorka /k/ was selling
>You bought the most obnoxiously aesthetic one which they called  "V A P O R C A M", based on some previous venture called NIGHTBREED-N
>It was like someone vomited blue, pink, and purple neon into random patterns that actually made anthros dizzy when they stared at it too long
>Except for Paz, who loved looking at it and seemed to have somehow adjusted to it
>Heading back down and leaving Slag with the two happy maids, you look through the peephole to see that the wolf had finished her fun time, and was licking her toy clean while she let out steamy breaths of wanton desire
>You knock on her cell door, looking away as she asks you to wait a moment and slides the toy back into place before locking it in place with her panties
>She walks out as soon as you open the door, and you put a bag over her head before walking her outside and into your '04 Volkswagon V10 TDI
>After taking the drive halfway there you pull her bag off, and she blinks with confusion as she looks over to you, as if on some level she somehow knew the masked corrupt officer that took her in was you
>"This is a really nice car for a simple drop off."
>She wiggles a bit in her seat as you recognize that she's still got her warmer buried deep inside of her, and can only wonder how she'll react to her former BF after her body's been adjusting to something just a hair thinner and an inch smaller than he was
>"I normally make luxury drives for rich clients. Officer Arnitz wanted me to not drop you off in his Civic."
>Her mind seems to wander as the faint smell of heat reaches your nostrils, every inch you roll closer to the house a bit further into the country than you approaches
>When you arrive at the house she doesn't even wait for you, leaping out of the car in her flowing maid outfit and banging on the door harshly
>Opie looks at you with confusion as he opens the door and his former whore of a girlfriend slams into him and begs for him to forgive him while grinding his leg
>"She's primed and ready to rock faggot! Thank me later!"
>You laugh as she pulls the blocker she had in her pants out of the way, throwing it across his living room and dragging him by the arms into the house as he closes the door with his foot
>Without missing a beat you go ahead and take off back to home, finding that Slag must have taken the others to their buyer since the cells downstairs were empty
>You go into your room and begin to strip as you hear purring and notice your lovely ocelot behind you sleepily waving at you to join her in bed
>When you're finally down to your boxers you climb in next to her and snuggle up closely, happily warming the bed just a hair more with your presence
>She lazily grooms your cheek before nibbling your neck lazily and delicately
>Work would probably show up again soon, but you had some quality nap time to catch up on with her for now
>That pastry thief of a fox would get her just desserts when the time was right