Face with quiet dignity (END)

Texas lowered her head. This was it. She accepted it. If this was what it took to prevent some lowlife criminal from sullying her family name and bringing anarchy to the town she swore to protect, then so be it. As those last seconds dragged on longer and longer, Texas felt her destiny approaching all at once before–

“W-wait!” The faker’s voice spoke up, “I uh… Ain’t nobody gotta die! Jus’ send us bof ta jail maybe instead?”

Texas’s eyes snapped open, “W-what? You RAT! You’d send an innocent woman to jail just because you’re too coward to–”

“How selfless!” Mayor Vivian called out, “Only a true Stanton would be willing to risk prison time to make sure she caught her villain! And that whole ‘shoot us both’ thing was so dramatic anyway! So that means this is the real Texas and that’s the faker, easy peasy. Georgia, if you will!”

Georgia swept up behind Texas and slapped a pair of cuffs on her. She tried to say “Wait!” but Georgia put a boot on her back and she was eating dirt before she could get the words out. After being gagged with one of Georgia’s old socks, the “devious lying criminal who shouldn’t be believed no matter what she says” was on the next prison car down to the maximum security hoosegow. Texas was begging for her life the moment her gag was undone, but it all fell on deaf ears.

“Please! Ya gotta believe me!” Texas cried out, “I’m the Sheriff of Gold Springs! I’ve been swapped out for an imposter! Why would anyone believe me?”

“I believe you.” Came a low, growling voice from the back of her cell.

Texas’s blood went cold. She’d recognize that low rasp anywhere. She looked behind her into the darkness and saw the bloodshot eyes of a big, black bull. Steam shot from his nostrils as he strode forward wearing nothing but a vest he tore out of his prison uniform and an ill fitting, horribly stained jockstrap. It was Black Brass, the same woman-hating bull she’d humiliated all that time ago. It seemed his hatred had only distilled in the meantime into pure, utter loathing.

“I know yer the Sheriff, Texas.” He said, wrapping a hand around her shivering neck. His palm alone was enough to completely cover her head, “I’d recognize your face anywhere. I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for what I’m about to do to ya.”

Texas’s head was shoved through the bars and she gripped them tight. Brass’s rancid jockstrap slipped over her mouth like a gag and the pungent, piss stained fabric filled her mouth. The flavor was eyewatering but she knew she’d need something to bite down on. He lifted his manhood up and dropped it on her back. Good lord she felt it all the way up on the nape of her neck. He wasn’t about to fuck her, he was going to WEAR her.

And with a scream that resounded through the entire prison, Texas’s long, miserable life as a prison bitch began. She was pretty much blown out after the first night, but after a few hours of draining she was right onto her new career as a permanent cocksleeve for Brass. He never took her off, except when he needed toilet paper, or when he felt like changing up which end he went in and which he came out of.

After a few months of humiliating and parading Texas around, inventing new ways to torment her, Brass’s victory felt complete and he really stopped caring about her. Which was right about the time that she started to fade. He wore her so often on his cock that he didn’t notice it until it was completely finished. She was gone and his cock was just a bit thicker and heavier. He couldn’t say for sure but he liked to imagine part of her could still smell and taste down there, so whenever he assfucked a particularly nasty slut, she could experience it first hand.

And who knows, he might’ve been right…