Demise

"You fucking cunts!" She howled. "I'll rip your fucking throats out! Just who the fuck do you fucking think you are doing this! You fucking bastard, Scorpio! I'll have you and when you bleed out in the snow, it'll fucking well be me that slits your throat - I'll make sure of it!"

It was a tirade that Danica would have thought impressive if not for the pit bull who took over on her, slapping her wrists and the weakened knots into steel manacles that could have, honestly, have appeared better suited to a sex dungeon. Either way, it meant that the knots that she'd worked away at were rendered completely and utterly useless as she was subdued, the snap of her jaws hardly anything at all to put him off as he hauled her onto her front, a knife flashing as he worked her clothes away. What good was freeing her hind paws or even thinking about it when manacles were too slapped around those, the clink of the cuffs snapping closed chilling to her soul as if from another time.

Dora fared no better but was perhaps handled worse, the mastiff punching her square in the muzzle once and then a second time too, just for good measure, his lips contorted into a sickly little smirk.

Stop fighting, Danica willed her sister, although her own adrenaline was up as she tried to step back impartially from her own demise, desperate as her body loathed the bondage, the humiliation of first her jacket and then her underclothes being ripped away, breasts spilling out into still chilled air. Stop it, Dora, you'll make it worse for yourself. Come on now, girl, you can do it.

But Dora could not and would not, snarling and squealing like a thing possessed until yet another fur, a burly bull, was forced to join the fray, holding her down with the effect of the drug still in her system for her clothing to be torn crudely from her and limbs locked into manacles and a chained-up hogtie.

"My dear whore," Scorpio laughed quietly, shaking his head as he put his henchfurs to work, eagerly watching as they stripped the clothing from the Shepsisters once they were suitably restrained - at least with the beginnings of their new bondage. "You have spirit to fight back. I'm not going to kill you but whoever you go to might think the price enough to end your life. I'd rather see this slutty little mouth of your gagging on my cock first though..."

Boldly, he fondled Dora's muzzle, closing his paw around it as his henchfurs dragged a knife down her thigh, catching skin and fur as her trousers were systematically and callously sliced off. But Dora was not one to whine or whimper for such embarrassment and humiliation and she snapped and snarled against the paws holding her down even as a metal collar was snapped around both her neck and Danica's. Danica herself could not help but growl, her breasts on show, as Scorpio boldly fondled and tweaked her nipples, letting his claws dig in but not quite enough to leave a lasting mark.

"Divine... But still a cunt."

Whether she was a cunt or not was by the by as Danica snapped and hauled her body away, on the defensive rather than the offensive for her clouded mind had still not quite worked out what was happening. Scorpio, however, was not put off by her refusal to engage, leering and lewdly running his paws over her as even her pussy was exposed, her legs dragged apart and a spreader bar locked between them. Everything was becoming increasingly sexual with every passing moment but that was something that Dora could not acknowledge as her muzzle snapped to the side with a well-timed slap.

"You're going to fucking pay for all you've done, bitch."

What she'd done? Ah, there were crimes in her past that were probably due justice but anything against Scorpio was most certainly not on that list. As Danica's head swam, the mastiff smirking evilly and taking the chance to squeeze her breasts too, she reeled from the situation, her sister snarling and spitting expletives until a muzzle was snapped over her jaws, sealing away insults behind a cage that seemed to render her nothing more than a wild animal.

Paws... Gropes... Pinches... Even a bite on her shoulder, Scorpio lapping up the blood like a creature of the night. He was insane, he had to be, everyone would recognise them. He couldn't possibly be thinking of going through with what he just might have had in his mind...could he?

Oh no...

And yet their lack of attire and what could only be called heavy duty fetish gear spoke a different tale, the husky grinning madly as he kissed the muzzle around Dora's snout, laughing and poking fun at her, her last weapon rendered useless.

"So pretty... Or you would be if there was something shoved down your throat. Maybe you'll live, maybe you'll not: that one's, sadly, not for me to decide."

He paused, taking a camera from one of his henchfurs with such a look of obvious relish as he salaciously looked them over like slabs of meat in the butcher's shop, simply waiting to be devoured. Even against herself, her need getting the better of her, Danica pulled back her lips into a ferocious snarl that should have sent terror curling through the soul of any fur that heard it.

But not Scorpio. He was too far gone in the delusions of his own mind and grandeur for something like that to work on him. He would have more pinches and veiled caresses after the photos were taken, however, even if he could never break either of them down into tears or please.

No, the Shepsisters were stronger than that. Much stronger. He'd see. They'd will through the worst.

"Smile for the camera, whore."

But neither of them had any smile left to give.

*

Back home in a house that rang empty without the Shepsisters, Yote pressed his lips together into a dangerous, hard line, tossing a knife from one paw to the other. He could have been channelling Dora but the German Shepherd would never have spent so long on the computer, regardless on how intent she was on finding out what she wanted to know. Research she was more apt to leave to either him or Danica, where applicable, and he was a coyote who had already found the information that sent his heart into overdrive, the roar of blood pounding in his ears threatening to, very truly, knock him right out cold.

For, right there on the large computer screen before him, was an advert for a sexy German Shepherd. Only, he would have thought it sexy if it was not slavery and an auction for the pair of Shepsisters, both bound and posed in a metal cage as if for effect. He couldn't have imagined that that would hold them but his love bound up into a hogtie, hair raked back and tied to her ankles to keep her neck at a painful angle, ripped through his heart as if the very knife he was tossing so casually back and forth had sunk home in the wrong body. Danica too was trussed up but on her knees with a spreader bar between them and, although he had, of course, spent many, many nights between those very thighs, he could not bring himself to look at them nor the horror on their muzzles, for it seemed at the very moment that that photo had been taken that they had realised their fates to be.

Auction... He blinked numbly, struggling to take it all in still, for it seemed a nightmare of the worst ilk. They were up for auction. He could not read the next but he could rise to his paws in the lonesome little study, the knife gripped so tightly in his paw that it shook.

"Dora..."

The sun was setting but not on his love and passion for his sweetheart and her sister. Silhouetted against the window, he ground his teeth together, fighting through deadly emotion for the words he needed to say, if only for himself. No time for more though. It was time enough to get to work.

"I'm fucking coming for you."

And the game was on.