Hanz sat behind the counter, taping at the keyboard of his oversized laptop, earbuds in, running through his playlist of Elton John. The singer might be British and a Fox to boot, still the red Brit Fox was always his go to when feeling low. Plus it helped to drown out the incessant holiday music played over the speakers in the shop. He could just turn the holiday music off, he owned the place after all.

The holiday music along with the decorations are just what the customers expect. And the holiday season, Yuletide in particular was one of his most busy and profitable times of the year. Yuletide being the celebration of the Great Hunter. Even if most of his customers, even if predators by species could hardly consider themselves great hunters, that's why they needed and paid him.

The vast majority of customers, while technically predators by species and breed, sharp teeth, fangs and claws, and all. Most spent the majority of their lives sitting behind computers or tapping mindlessly on tiny screens. Only knowing the truth by watching videos of ferals, survival reality TV shows or maybe a few classes if they went to high-end very expensive Predator only schools that included hunting classes.

The exceptions being the one or two holidays a year, even if most preferred a much more civilized and sanitized version. Picking out a cut of meat that has already been butchered, cleaned, skinned, tagged and wrapped. Some wanting a slightly more authentic feel prefered to get the entire leg or side of a prey animal or anthro.

Then there are the ones like the Zuma family, Hanz wanted for, he looked forward to this deal and holiday season to be over profitable as it might be. Hanz might have freely and knowingly entered a business many consider ruthless, or even evil, especially for a herbivore. His reasoning and motivations to keep his own family off the menu being sound as they were still didn’t insulate him from the pleadings of the pregnant teen. To let her be eaten but for the love of all the gods, have mercy and let her unborn fawn live, cut it out of her if necessary, just don’t let her fawn die too.

Hanz was at least partially immune, but he’d be lying if he said those pitiful pleadings didn’t chip away at what little rained of his soul if they even were such a thing. He was glad to have been able to give at least the first of the three sisters a quick end since a customer was already waiting and preferred their meat already dispatched and cleaned. The second sister, obviously in heat, was purchased by a rowdy smelly bunch of footballer canines. Maybe wolves or coyotes or some other breed, all the dogs looked and smelled a like to Hanz, they weren’t foxes he could say that for sure. Hanz could easily guess what those youngsters wanted from the slim teenage gazelle, several of them lifting her tail right in the front window sniffing and tasting her heat before he stopped them.

Hanz ran a professional business here, including ethical treatment of the prey. If they wanted to do that they had to pay for one of the rooms. The hoodlum canines gave Hanz a look like they weren’t much used to taking orders from no herbivore even if a 750 pound bull with horns wider than any of them with their arms held straight out. Little did they know that Hanz, having made the right donations, bribes and corporate sponsors was one of the very select class of herbivores that had a firearms license. To be specific, to fit his large hoofed hands, a DesertHawk .50 Action Nitro he keeps in the small of his back. One round at close range would make quite the mess of his shop and one or more very dead predators. Not that Hanz would pull the weapon unless his life absolutely depended on it. It would be horrible for business, even with extension bribing and fines. A herbivore killing s predator in such a fashion, would more than likely be the end of his business.

That said, after just a few moments of dirty stares, what must have been the leader of their little pack motioned to the gazelle girl in heat, one of the dogs already eating the tampon she had in moments before. Hanz told them the price and they didn’t so much as haggle . The biggest and Hanz felt the most foul smelling of the group, maybe that is why he was the leader? Came up to the register, gave a very unnecessarily toothy grin and passed his right wrist over the reader. It beeped immediately, the light turned green, and the sale went through for the full amount. The canine maybe a Shepard wanted no receipt, didn’t want his prey tagged or stamped which technically is the law. The group just looked back at Hanz, he gave them a nod careful to not pull down another ceiling tile with a horn. The canines untied the young gazelle girl and held her tight. Not that they needed to, other than a soft bleat or two and one last feeble attempt to reach for her sister she was half walked half carried out the door that closed behind them with the little ding of the bell.

The ding of the same bell brought Hanz back from his thoughts, the Zuma family or pride he supposed had arrived. A lion family, lions if they had the means generally always purchased live meat, no extras or prep needed. Mr. Zuma was a somewhat frequent customer, some high-end big shot lawyer. Just one of those new age ones that wore jeans, t-shirts with a suit jacket over the top, braided his mane and must have used some kind of fur oil. Today he smelled of teakwood, vanilla, and maybe some coffee in there but maybe that last part was from a stop at Buckstars.

Mr Zuma smiled without baring his fangs and gave his traditional greeting of ”Howzit” as he let his two devil cubs into my shop. MR. Zuma maybe a large feline predator, just like most of my frequent customers he’s civilized enough to control his predatory side while in civilized society. That cannot be said for his two hell spawn of cubs. I bowed slightly to the Zuma pride patriarch and motioned to the front window, where his order was nervously looking at the large well oiled lion and the two cubs running up and down the isles.

She shifted her weight from hoof to hoof her tail nervously flicking, the two boys finally noticing the Gazelle. The poor girl looked at me, as if I could help…poor thing. The two cubs sniffing and softly clawing at her lower legs inanely chatting.

“ Dad, Dad … DAD is this the one?”

“ Dad why is this one fat, the last one wasn’t fat, I don’t like fat”

“Dad Dad look DDDDAD can we get a rabbit too, that one smells funny, I want the rabbit”

“ Yes Dad let’s get a rabbit eeeeeeewwww this one’s popping!”

Hanz did his best to not roll his eyes and kept a neutral expression, the poor gazelle teen girl seeing a nightmare come to life of a large male lion sizing her up while his cubs clawed at her lower legs just couldn’t control her bowels any longer. Her tail lifted and pellets hit the floor, her embarrassment was clear from across the room. The small rabbit boy that I just purchased off his mother earlier in the day cried softly from his cage, his family had fallen behind on some bills and work was slow, so the second born son got sent here.

Mr Zuma softly ran his paws over the products full breasts, with just the slightest touch a bit of warm milk leaked from her nipples. She stood stiff as a board, eyes darting around the room as if to try and escape. As the large feline licked the milk that had dripped on his paw . The whole time the two lion cubs pulled on their fathers suit coat, the product's legs and went on and on.

“ Dad ...Dad can we get the rabbit please PLEASE PLEASE!??!”

"Dad can we get him I want him?"

Finally Mr Zuma had enough, and while Hanz had hoped he would send his cubs back out to the car while they finished their business. The father just growled at the two cubs briefly before turning to Hanz with very cold feral eyes and growled again

“Hanz give them the damn rabbit boy already … I don’t care, just add it to the bill!” Hanz smiled, made a quick note marking up the price of the young rabbit boy by twice. “Mr Zuma, would you or your cubs like to use one of the rooms?” The large male lion looking far less like a well educated and professional lawyer than a hungry feral just nodded. Then turned to his cubs that were laser focused on the cage, holding the young rabbit boy. Hanz hadn’t even had time to remove the meat's clothing or grade the quality of his quality, not that the cubs would care.

The father looked down to his cubs, the gazelle girl looking on, literally shaking in fear. To the point Hanz feared she might go into labor just from the stress. Mr Zuma either didn’t notice or liked it, leaning down to the two boys.

“Daddy needs to carefully inspect our Yuletide dinner, you two play with the rabbit, just don’t ruin your appetite, or make too big of a mess for the cow to clean up… okay deal ?” The two nodded “ Yes dad yes we’ll practice what you showed us with that old sheep lady that we found!”

Hanz covered an eye twitch by rubbing his right eye as if he had something in it and marked up the whole bill another 20% if for no other reason than being called a cow. Mr Zuma grabbed the gazelle by the back of the neck and waist, eliciting a bleat of shock and fear. The powerful lion lawyer started dragging his newly acquired prey back to one of the processing and or inspection rooms, the pregnant teen girl only putting up token resistance.

The two troublesome cubs ran over to the cage holding the young rabbit boy, knocking several jars of pickled produce off a shelf, the jars shattering on the floor. Hanz just sighed, shook his head and added the jars to the bill. The young rabbit curled into a ball, cried in fear and covered his face with his soft furry paws as the lion cubs threw open the door and grabbed one of his legs and dragged him out into the aisle. Hanz knew from previous experience especially with this particular family what was about to happen so he moved quickly and decisively.

Hanz ran a respectable, clean and sanctioned business, he couldn’t let a couple troublesome predator cubs mess that up. Hanz moved very fast for his size, getting to the front door within a few seconds, switching the sign to closed and closing the security shutters just as a young rabbit boy started to scream and more glass jars were knocked off a shelf and shattered on the floor.

The young pregnant girl was dragged into a brightly lit room, the walls covered in washable, sterile white plastic sheeting that she had seen at some restaurants. The floor bare concrete with a drain in the middle, several stainless steel tables along one wall, along with a curled up garden hose on the other wall, on the opposite walk-in freezer doors. This was the room where they killed her sister, it smelled of blood, wet fur and death. Amy’s last memory of her sister was watching Jenny get dragged into this very room then an hour or so later her lifeless gutted body carried out and hung up next to her and Jina.

Both were dead and gone now, Jenny killed the first day and she was always the strongest of the three. What those dogs did to Jina, Amy tried to not even think about, she just hoped it was over fast and as painless as possible. The lion forced her to her knees, her hands still tied behind her back. The lion that the evil bull called Mr. Zuma smelled nice enough for a predator but Amy knew she was looking at death … the grim Reaper come to take her. Would he kill her right here, would he let his cubs toy with her like she could hear the thrashing and screams of the poor young boy in the other room? Amy didn’t have to wait long to find out, just like with Jina, buying her as meat to be devoured, her unborn fawn included wasn’t enough for these predators.

Oh no they had to take pleasure from her in every way possible, like with her sister, Amy resigned to what was about to happen yet again. Mr Zuma removed his very expensive designer jeans, carefully folded them and placed them on one of the stainless steel tables. He came back over and lifted Amy back up to her hooves, she tensed and held her breath as the large male lion lowered his head and pulled Amy to himself. Amy did her best to prepare herself for the bite that would crush or rip open her throat and would end her life but it didn’t come or not just yet anyhow. Instead the lion rather gently licked one of her nipples, his rough tongue feeling rather odd on her fur and swollen niplples, before gently suckling from her right full and aching breast. Amy breathed and looked over the head of the predator that would in the near future kill and eat her, just for the time being only suckled milk from her breasts.

The warm black lips gently suckled on Amy’s nipples wasn’t entirely unpleasant, she even found herself relaxing even if just a bit. It was better than the machine, the evil bull had attached to her chest a couple nights prior. Amy considered trying to beg for her life again but she knew it would be a waste of what few breaths she had left, she would join her sisters soon enough.

Before long the lion had his fill of Amy’s sweet milk and once again gently pushed her back to her knees. Never saying a word to her, he didn’t see her as a person just a piece of meat to do with as he pleased. With his powerful paws, thankfully keeping his claws retracted Mr Zuma pushed Amy’s lips up looking at her teeth and gums before forcing her to open her mouth wide. He seemed to look at her open mouth, smell her warm moist breath, looked and rubbed her upper hard palate, her species like most all antelope not having upper front teeth.

Mr Zuma , seemed satisfied, Amy took a few deep breaths, knowing what was expected and opened her mouth and leaned forward as the large lion pushed his spiny pink cock into her mouth. Her father started having “their special times” when Amy was maybe 9yo so this was nothing new. It was just her father had a much thinner if longer cock and it was smooth and slippery. This lion's cock not only tasted and smelled far more bitter, the little spines scratched and irritated her tongue and soft palate. Amy felt like she had to cough or gag, she tried to pull away, she couldn’t breathe. But the large feline held the back over her head with one paw, his claws starting to dig into the skin on the back of her head. His other paw held her muzzle open as he rammed himself deeper into her, the spines feeling like they were scratching the top of her mouth.

Amy tried to move away, her chest burning, lungs screaming for air, her eyes watering she could feel her fawn kick inside her belly. It felt like the feline's cock was filling her airway, her nose pushed hard up against the lion's surprisingly soft crotch fur. The room seemed like it grew dark… was the predator going to choke her with his cock? Just as Amy felt like she was going to pass out, she felt a warm rush in her throat, thinking for a moment the lion had just cut open her neck and she was feeling her own blood. She could breathe again, and coughed up a mouth full of lion cum onto the cold concrete floor. Amy took gasping breaths and less she fall sideways and smack her head into the floor she leaned forward, resting her head, her killer's leg.

Mr Zuma felt Amy's swollen belly, feeling her fawn as it moved inside her womb, where he or she would be cooked in less than a day, cooked inside Amy for extra tenderness and favor. Mr. Zuma actually spoke for the first time to his prey. “ You stay quiet and don’t say a word to my mate and I’ll make it quick for you. No pain, no being cooked alive … you understand?” “You say a word I'll have my cubs start eating you alive while I have tea with the in-laws.” Amy, still struggled to get enough air and fill her lungs, she looked down at the large paw directly over her unborn fawn and nodded her understanding of how it would go.

Mr Zuma led his prey out to the register, both cubs, their faces covered in blood bits of gore wanted near the counter.

Both speaking at once

“ DAD … Dad we're bored can we go yet ?”

“Dad can we open some presents tonight”

“ Dad can we …

Mr Zuma held up a paw to quiet them both down. “ Go out to the SUV and put down the back seat so I can put tomorrow's dinner in. If … IF you both behave and help me with our prey AND get cleaned up once we get home I’ll let you both open One.” Both nodding

“ YES DAD” both running out the front door.

Hanz held up the ear tag and Mr Zuma motioned for him to go ahead. Hanz moved closer to the young gazelle. Amy looked rather shocked at the state of the shop and the horror that was in front of her. Hanz attached the ear tag through an existing piercing in Amy‘s right ear. Before picking up a rather large stamp and gently, all things considered, pushed it against the young gazelle's right side. Before Hanz could move behind the counter again. Amy leaned forward next to his left ear and quietly said three short words “ You’re a monster”

Hanz didn’t immediately pull away, just seeming frozen there for a long moment. Before looking over meeting Amy’s cold stare and with a deep sadness whispered back “ I know”

Mr Zuma did not seem to notice or care about utter carnage around him or even ask the price as Hanz finished entering a few last items. This one sale, price wish being equivalent of several weeks of typical sales. Hanz nods and Mr Zuma waves his right wrist, the light goes green and the system beeps happily. Hanz smiles and looks to Mr Zuma “ Happy Yuletide, would you like a receipt?”

Mr Zuma shows his full artificially white fangs “No receipt needed Hanz… happy Yuletide, be safe out there tonight, wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea” before Hanz could figure out what he meant by that, the lion took his prey by the back of the neck and was out the door.

Hanz surveyed his once tidy shop, several displays knocked over, broken glass everywhere. A splash of blood across the meat display case. The young rabbit boy, his dinosaur T-shirt ripped open, soaked in blood, entrails and other fluids, mixing with pickle juice, yet horrifyingly still twitching on the floor. Hanz stepped over and gently rolled the boy over, his stomach and neck were bloody ruins. Still bubbles come up from the ruined throat, his eyes still open and blinking. Hanz gently smoothed the non-bloody fur between his long ears, one of his ears nearly torn off half way up. The boy's throat was far too torn up for him to make any sound. Hanz just gently stroked his head for several long moments before quickly snapping his neck in a split second, putting the young boy out of both their misery before gently letting his head back into the bloody carnage.

“ Happy Yuletide …Hanz... this is the hell you've created... and what a fine slice of bloody hell it is, complete with the death and destruction of the helpless...'

Hanz stood up made sure the front door was fully closed and locked before going back to his office. He sat heavily down in his chair, made for his size and stature and leaned back. After a few moments, he reached with a shaking hand to the lower drawer of his desk. He opened the lower drawer searches through a number of empty bottles before thankfully finding one last unopened bottle of 10 year old scotch. He grabbed a glass from a desk and twisted off the cap of the bottle. Careful to not twist the whole top of the bottle off. Hanz poured the glass half full before just putting the bottle to his lips and draining 2/3 of the bottle and one gulp before hurling the mostly empty bottle at the wall.

Hanz grabbed the glass ready to throw it at the wall too before tossing the amber liquid back, then hurling the glass at the offending white center brick wall. Screaming the old stand by of all those troubled by life of “ GODS DAMMIT MOTHER FUCKER” slamming his hoofed fist down hard enough to crack his solid oak desk, which hurt like hell and made him wish he had more scotch!

Just as he was ready to go, find some more, his phone buzzed in his side jacket pocket. After a few long moments, he reached for it. He took a few long deep breaths, and picked up.

“ Hello darling my love…"

"Yes I know I’m running late…"

"Yes yes just wrapping up business for the night..."

" You know now that you mention it, your veggie preserves have been flying off the selves, I just sold a case and a half to a very nice family with two ummm charming cubs..."

"No no I'm fine no need to come down to the shop, give me an hour and ill be on my way home" leaning out his office door looking at the shop. "Better make that 90 minutes love...'

"Yes I know its Yuletide eve, kiss the girls for me, I'll see them when we open presents in the morning..."

"Yes yes smooches, love you too, no I love you more, no you ...no you... okay be home soon, love ya“ Hanz hangs up the phone and puts his head in his hands, its just a few hours from Yuletide the happiest day of the year.

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If you enjoyed the art or story please leave a comment below, it really means the world to m myself and the artist.

Speaking of which the the art was done by my good friend and very talented artist https://www.furaffinity.net/user/maziurek