FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

The east side of town had always been the "immigrant section" of the city. In the previous century, the east side had been home to Irish, German, Italian and Jewish immigrants, with each ethnic group carving out its own little enclave of stores, schools, bars and religious institutions. As the years went by, the immigrant groups assimilated into American society, though still maintaining their own distinctive cultures to some degree. Working hard and saving their money, they eventually moved to more affluent sections of the city or even moved out of the city entirely. Where there were once Irish, German, Italian and Jewish immigrants, there were now Russian, Ukrainian, Lithuanian and many other ethnic groups from the disintegrating Soviet Union residing in the east side. They came in search of the very same things that the immigrant groups one hundred years ago were looking for; wealth, religious freedom, freedom to say what they wanted. They were after the American Dream, but sometimes they went about it the wrong way.

Mr. Boris Savinkov, a middle aged snow sheep, was usually in good spirits as he ran his corner grocery store in the heart of the east side of town. He'd been in the United States for almost twenty years now and had made something of himself. With a wife and three children, he was well liked by those in the community, and had a smile for everyone entering his store, almost everyone.

Sitting in a car outside of "Savinkov's" store, were two beasts who planned on entering the store very soon, but they wouldn't be paying customers. They were here to collect a debt, a debt that Mr. Savinkov owed to their employer, Mr. Andropov. Frankie, the smaller lion who hadn't pissed off Marv the night of his introduction to Mr. Andropov, was in the driver's seat. He had plenty of experience in these matters, and he was about to school his new protege, Marv Mortenson. The two smoked cigarettes as Frankie explained how things would go inside the store.

"You follow my lead, alright? If he pays up, you don't do anything to him. Just smile, but make sure it's the kind of smile that lets him know that we're in charge around here."

"What if he doesn't pay up?" asked Marv, taking a puff from his cigarette.

"Remind him that he's gotta pay up now, or he'll have to suffer the consequences," Frankie informed him.

"Then what?"

Frankie tossed his cigarette out of the car window onto the street. "Then you have to smack him around a little bit. Chances are, they'll remember that they do have the money after all."

"What about the police?"

"They aint' callin' the police," laughed Frankie. "Trust me, they know that will only buy them way more problems than they wanna deal with. Funny thing, about that though."

"What's that?" asked Marv.

"We had this guy one time, this Russian rabbit who owned a store around here. He though he'd be cute and go to the cops about us--didn't turn out to well for him in the end. His store mysteriously burned to the ground."

"That so?" asked Marv, a cruel smile showing on his face.

"Yeah," said Frankie. "After that, he decided he didn't want to deal with the cops anymore; said it was all a great big misunderstanding. Damn right it was. He didn't understand how things really work around here." The lion looked at his watch then at the store. It looked like there weren't any customers there at the moment. Perfect time to pay Mr. Savinkov a visit.

"Time to go to work," said Frankie, opening the car door. "Watch me close, kid."

Marv followed behind the lion. The bell a top the door rang as they entered the store. Frankie smiled at the snow sheep, whose expression quickly turned to that of dread. The lion just acted like there was nothing wrong, going over to the store counter and leaning on it.

"Hi, Boris," said Frankie. "You haven't forgotten what time of the month it is, have you?"

"Of course not," said Boris, his voice thick with his native Russian accent.

"That's good," said Frankie, picking up a green apple and taking a bite out of it. "So, where's our money?"

"Right here," said Boris, nervously opening up the cash register. With his paws shaking, he gave the lion a wad of cash. Marv watched as Frankie counted up the money, not once, but twice.

"You're short, Boris," said Frankie, giving the snow sheep a dirty look. "The vig is $500. You should know that by now."

"That's all I have," said Boris, shaking. "I swear."

"You sure you don't have more than this?" asked Frankie, growing impatient.

"I'm sure," said Boris, nodding emphatically.

Having heard enough, Frankie reached over and grabbed Boris by the throat. Picking him up, he slammed him back down on the counter. The snow sheep gasped, having the wind knocked out of him. The lion got right up in Boris' face, letting him know he meant business.

"Don't you fuck with me," said Frankie. "Give me the rest of the money."

Boris pleaded with Frankie, saying that he didn't have the money. "I swear, I'll pay the rest next week."

"Not good enough, you lyin' piece of crap," snarled Frankie.

Marv was taking in the show, learning a lesson in how Mr. Andropov's soldiers collected debts. It was all so exciting to the wolf, who had always been careful not to arouse the attention of the police. This was a completely new ball game for him, working in an immigrant community where the animals were more afraid of the wrath of Sergei Andropov than they were the police. Here he could operate with almost total impunity. This was going to be more fun than he ever had in his life.

Having run out of patience with the lion, Frankie took to slapping the snow sheep around. With big lion paws striking him, the snow sheep was taking a hell of a beating. Blood was pouring from his nose as Frankie kept trying to coax the money from him. Marv was laughing, finding it all so amusing when a young female snow sheep walked from the back.

"Papa!" she shouted. "What are you doing to my papa?"

The sadist in Marv knew just how to deal with this. He ran after the girl, who made a valiant effort to get away, but the wolf was too fast for her. Kicking and screaming, he dragged her back to Frankie. "Mind if I show you a way to get him to pay?"

"Go ahead," said Frankie, his paws covered in the blood of Boris.

"Let's just close up the shop," said Marv. Dragging Boris' daughter to the front of the store, he turned the sign around on the door to read "Sorry, We're Closed" that was in both English and Russian, the latter using the Cyrillic alphabet. With the female snow sheep still kicking and screaming, Marv punched her hard in the face, taking all the fight out of her. Boris screamed that he would pay the money next week, but that didn't stop Marv from dragging the poor girl to the inventory room in the back. Frankie followed behind, holding Boris by the throat. The backroom was filled with unopened boxes of produce ready to be brought to the front. Marv threw the girl face first onto some boxes. She cried as he pinned her down.

"You gonna give us our money?" growled Marv, staring daggers into Boris.

"I don't have it," moaned the badly beaten snow sheep, his face covered in blood.

"Have it your way," laughed Marv. The female snow sheep, dressed in a long skirt, felt that particular part of her attire pulled over her head, leaving only panties covering her buttocks. Boris screamed, pleading with the two to spare his daughter being violated. Marv laughed at him, not caring about all the tears he was shedding or the beating he had endured. Still pinning the girl to the boxes, he pulled her panties down, leaving her rear exposed. Marv picked her up, and leaned her over some other boxes so he could have easier access to her. She wailed, crying her eyes out as the violent wolf unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants down just far enough to get his hardening member out. He looked back at Boris, smiling malevolently. Frankie was shocked at how cruel his young protege was being, but if it got results, he wasn't going to complain.

"You're gonna like this, bitch," cackled Marv.

The young female snow sheep screamed as the wolf's large cock penetrated her from behind. He tore through her young hymen, making her bleed. Boris screamed and yelled, begging for them to stop, saying that he would get the money today. This only made Marv more aroused, hearing the screams of the girl and her father. Digging his claws into her sides hard enough to draw blood, he fucked her over and over, feeling her tight pussy squeezing around his wolfhood. He pumped her hard, savoring her tears.

"You know you like it, bitch," he snarled. "Tell me you like it or I'm gonna kill you right now."

"I like it!" she screamed, wishing that she were dead right now.

"I don't believe you," he said, still fucking her as he reached around and punched her on the side of the face. "Say it like you really mean it."

She screamed even louder. "I like it! I like it! I like it!"

All the attempts to get away from the lion and wolf were futile. Marv had the female pinned, leaning his weight into her, and Boris was so badly beaten that it took almost no effort from the larger Frankie to keep him in place. Both father and daughter were yelling at the top of their lungs. Boris wished he could save her, but even if he had a gun to kill both of them, he could expect himself and his entire family to vanish soon after, never to be seen or heard from again. Violence, fear and intimidation were simply the way of things in this part of the east side of the city, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Marv made sure to make this sexual experience as rough as possible, both as a sign of his new found power and because he simply liked it rough. The girl kept crying and screaming, only driving the wolf on further. He was really enjoying this and hoped it wouldn't be the last time he got to use this particular method to collect a debt. The young female snow sheep's insides were badly damaged from the sexual assault. She would certainly need medical treatment after this. Nearing the end, Marv fucked her as hard as possible as he shot his seed into her badly abused vaginal walls. Pulling out, he spun her around, punching her so hard that she was unconscious before she fell back into the boxes of produce. Her father Boris was still weeping, have just been witness to his daughter being raped.

"You better have our money now," demanded Marv, staring at Boris' badly bludgeoned face.

"I promise," he said, sobbing. "I'll get it tomorrow."

"Ah, fuck you, you worthless bastard," barked Marv. Winding up, he threw a punch at Boris, knocking him out just as he had done to the female. Frankie let go as the male snow sheep hit the floor. Marv pointed over at the unconscious girl. "You wanna fuck her?"

"Nah," said Frankie. "Let's just clean this place out."

"Okay," said Marv, grabbing hold of some boxes of produce. "Probably for the best. It's way more fun when they're kicking and screaming."

That last sentence of Marv's made Frankie shudder. Even for an experienced thug like him, he found the wolf's sadistic streak to be troubling. With both the sheep knocked out, Marv and Frankie deprived the store of as much inventory as they could, calling there theft a "late payment" for Boris' inability to pay them the vig that day.

"What're we gonna do with all this shit anyway?" asked Marv, throwing another box onto the already crammed backseat.

"Mr. Andropov has people that'll buy it up," answered Frankie.

"Got it," said Marv. "We getting anymore?"

"Nah," said Frankie, getting in the driver's seat. "This is enough."

Lighting up a cigarette, Marv hopped in beside the lion. "That was fun," proclaimed the wolf. "We got anymore stops today?"

"Yeah," said Frankie. "But first I have to get rid of all these damned boxes. Looks like it's mostly fruit and vegetables. Gotta get rid of it before it spoils or we don't get any money out of it."

"Makes sense," said Marv as they drove off. "Sure hope the next guy doesn't pay up either, and has his daughter around."

"Jesus," said Frankie, shaking his head. "You're really into that shit, aren't you?"

Marv took a deep drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke exit from his nostrils. "Fuck yeah, I am. You should try it next time."

"No thanks," said Frankie, growing uncomfortable around the wolf. "Not my thing."

"Suit yourself," said Marv. "You ever change your mind, just let me know."

Almost completely desensitized to violence, Frankie still felt a chill around this young wolf. Thirteen years old, and he'd already killed the drug dealer Mr. Andropov was planning to whack anyway. Now he learned the kid was into violent rape. He'd be keeping a close eyes on him, making sure he didn't go too far. As time went on, Marv would only get more unpredictable, and more dangerous.