The Madame Herself.

As Texas looked across the table at the svelt seductress, her face flushed at the thought of hiring the madame herself. To say Texas was attracted to Lucy was an understatement, though practically everybody in town was given how drop-dead gorgeous the skunk looked, but given that she was another of Vivian's lackies, they'd never really seen eye to eye. But... maybe it was time to start fixing that...? With an embarressed cough, the weasel reached back into her pocket and took out another small handful of notes, carefully sliding them across.

"W-well, maybe uh... A-ah mean... T-that is to say..." The weasel's blush deepened, completely tongue tied, but Lucy had no such trouble. With a chuckle, she took the offered notes and fixed the weasel with a sultry smile.

"So that's the way of it then? Mhmm... I'm flattered sheriff. Well then, finish up your drink, and I'll lead you to my... special retreat." She said, topping up the weasel's drink one last time, though if the weasel had been keeping her eyes on the skunk's hands she would have noticed that Lucy poured this final drink from a different, identical bottle of whiskey. Sadly for her, however, she didn't, being too distracted by Lucy's charms, and with a smile she lifted her glass and toasted to the skunk.

"Cheers!"

When the weasel finally awoke, her head was pounding and her vision was blurry. The last thing she remembered was the taste of whisky in her mouth, then... she was here? But where was here... And... Why was she dangling??

Looking up, the weasel saw heavy iron manacles shackling her wrists, with chains extending all the way up to the ceiling, apparently precisely measured to leave her toes just barely brushing the ground. A cry of shock passed the weasel's lips and she looked around for help, only to be stunned into silence by the rest of the room. Gone were the luxious trappings of the brothel; its fine silks, its plush velvets and its faintly perfumed air. Instead, the weasel was alone in the middle of a large, round cement room, its only features being a rank smell in the air, the faint sound of dripping, and a large, rusted metal door across the room from her, with no handle on Texas's side.

Just as she was about to call out for someone, a loud metal squealing signalled the door's opening. With a clank and a ka-chunk, some sort of locking mechanism drew back, and the door swung inwards to reveal Madame Lucy flanked by two of her skunks. She gave one of them a nod and stepped inside, and the indicated skunk closed up the door, turning the large metal wheel set into the middle to relock it.

"Lucy!? What in the hell do you think you're doing!" Texas shouted. "What in tarnation is this??"

"This? This is just my little private room. Perfect for teaching lessons to brutish sheriffs who think they can just walk into my establishment." She said, her eyes narrowed. "I had thought you would have had more sense than to scare my patrons and worry my girls, but clearly I have overestimated you. So let this night be a clear reminder: You are not welcome here, imbécile!"

The skunk's hand lashed out and grabbed the weasel's braid, yanking her down to waist height. The weasel yelped in pain and made to lift her head back up, but as she did so she came face-to-face with a truly terrifying sight: Lucy's ass at point blank, the two giant, juicy cheeks utterly dwarfing her head.

"Wait! Lucy, I-"

Whatever the sheriff had planned to say was completely lost to time as her face was stuffed between the two massive cheeks, each easily as big as her entire head, and plunged so deep that her nose pressed against Lucy's backdoor.

"Uh-uh-uh, mon sheriff. You chose a private session with me, and I intend to give you exactly what you paid for..." She purred, biting her lip... and letting loose.

With a thunderous, bellowing roar her ass released the pent-up fumes, which poured into Texas's mouth and nose and utterly ensured that she wouldn't be able to smell anything else for a month. All the other villains she'd dealt with were an afternoon's walk through flower-filled fields compared to this! It wasn't just that it was bad, though it was utterly abysmal, a smell so rotten that she could feel it infecting her very soul, but it was concentrated. Every wisp of gas that drifted over her tongue was like a hundred skunk fart blasts all pressed down into a single atom of gas, and as they made contact with her taste buds, she could taste all of them, at once, amplified. Comparisons to stinking sewers, sweaty laundry, rotten fish or tire fires just didn't really capture the nuance of precisely how mind-bindingly awful a blast of Lucy's gas was, but that combination, quadrupled, would produce a smell somewhere in the ballpark of being as foul as Lucy's gas.

"Deep breaths now!" The skunk said, before the letting loose with a second fart; a hissing, whining, squeaking blast that **** itself down into the sheriff's airways, burning itself into the lining of her mouth and nose like acid etching into metal, and smelling far, far worse. With every lethal wisp, Lucy knew that Texas's brain was quickly melting away, dissolving in an endless sea of skunk stink until nothing would matter to the weasel anymore except the ass in front of her, and the constant fumes being pumped into her airways... Still, Texas was a useful pawn on the board in Lucy's plans for Gold Springs, and gassing her into a broken stink-slut would set her machinations back... but it would also feel sooo good... All it would take would be a few more blasts, and this troublesome, idiotic, brute of a sheriff would be her ****... Forever..

A shiver of pleasure ran down Lucy's spine at the thought, and another squeak of gas slipped out. All she would have to do would be relax her ass muscles, and blow this sheriff's stupid brains out with her stink... And that would be the end of Sheriff Texas...