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A fresh live-skinned male red fox, just trapped and skinned outside on a tree branch, his bloody pelt still on the tree. The fox had his paws and nose left intact, but the rest of him was bare, his under layer fully exposed as his pelt had been carefully cut then peeled off of him. This could only be a precise, professional job by experienced trappers with high quality skinning knives.

The live fox was dazed and confused, in complete torment as blood dripped from him. He wandered slowly, unsure of what to do in this state; unable to blink, breathing heavy but slowly, his vision blurred by his own blood oozing into his eyes; a cold, stinging sensation all over his body. Even a gentle breeze was like hundreds of knives cutting him all over.

The wild animal was exhausted and barely clinging to life. He clearly would not survive for another hour, his energy spent. He recalled trying to escape the leg-hold trap earlier and the struggle of being pinned down by the trappers, then tied onto the tree unable to defend himself, squirming and panicing as he felt the trappers' knives do their work. Finally the agonising peel of his pelt being methodologically being stripped from his body.

Breaking his thought process was the sudden warm burst of fluid hitting him, the fox's attention instantly shifting to this as he turned his face to see what had struck him. Doing so was a disaster for his well-being as the fluid then hit his face. Seconds later the fox realised just how harsh this was to be. Not only was his skinless body sensitive to being hit by a stream of fluid, the liquid was particularly acidic. The fox's body tensed up all over as he turned his face away, the fluid pouring down from it, mixed with his blood. A pool of dark yellowish-red liquid began to build up under him.

The fox still had his sense of smell and soon came to realise what it was: he was being pissed on, marked by one of the predators that had caught him. It was a particularly pungent stream of urine, obviously male with a musky odour. As it flowed down his face he felt it in his maw, tasting the fresh piss. It left a bold flavour in his mouth. The fox had smelled the piss of hunters before, but had never tasted a man's piss until now.

As the stream washed over his body he quivered, his legs shaking as he struggled to stand. He expected it to end soon but with no luck, the trapper had been holding it in, seemingly just for this. He had a full bladder to unload onto the small critter, and apparently a morning piss at that; making it as musky, dark yellow, strong tasting and acidic as possible.

With the last of his energy the fox decided to walk out of the stream, perhaps the trapper would spare him out of pity, or simply was pissing without care onto him. This was a mistake, as in his blurred vision he saw another two-legged predator's figure approach. It stood in front of him, started to remove its pants until a floppy, large, semi-erect cock plopped out. Another stream of piss then started to shoot out like the last. The fox getting a new taste of warm, fresh trapper piss. Clearly male as before, the fox now aware of what a man's cock looked like. The last minutes of his life were clearly educational for the animal. A sack dangling with two large balls, a cockhead with a sheath wrapped over it, and a veiny shaft, all blurred but apparent to the fox.

With a second blast of piss having hit him in the face, he should have known better than to walk away again, but that he did, only to repeat the same process with a third trapper. Now three cocks were unloading themselves onto him. Luckily one had run out of piss so he tried to escape in that direction, only for a fourth to unleash a stream onto the fox. He turned to his only escape from the three trappers but expected the worst, yet another cock already exposed, clearly waiting for him as the fifth trapper then burst piss onto the animal's face. The fox felt hopeless and stood still, shaking all over, jittery and tired.

As he stood there he was pissed on from four directions, the first meaty cock hanging partially erect dripping in the distance. As each cock finished one by one another was there to replace it, a crowd of men surrounding the little, defenseless beast. The intense odour of human male piss flooded his senses; it was all he could taste, smell, and feel. The fox was introduced to a new level of pain as he was washed in strong streams of piss again and again. A dozen trappers taking their turns urinating all over the poor animal, it early in the morning and all of them with full bladders of only the strongest piss. Each of them with a hefty cock that could blast quite a load. The trappers sighing in relief one by one as they finished pissing all over the animal.

After nine of them had finished the fox could barely handle it anymore, the tenth trapper's cock aiming itself in the animal's blurred vision then unloading yet another minutes-long stream of urine. The creature collapsed to the ground, landing with a wet thud into all the blood-tinted piss. It was a mossy part of the ground, so quite soft yet utterly soaked in human, male piss. The trappers continued to unload onto him without a care. The animal's eyes rolling back as he desired to blink but was without eyelids. He had to take several more bladders full of piss unloading themselves onto him.

The eleventh trapper's cock readying itself just as the fox had collapsed, spotting the critter's bulging eyes as excellent targets. Without pissing yet he called over the final trapper and both of them appeared to discuss something, the fox laying there helpless, still being pissed on from behind all over his back and rump. Then the two cocks in front of him appeared to work together, slight tickles of piss coming out of them until they both went full blast, each cock aiming for the fox's eyes intentionally. The last thing the animal got to see was two men's cocks, bulging almost erect with shiny cockheads peeking out of foreskin, then both of them unloading piss that quickly became a gushing torrent, coming straight for him.

As if the pain was not already bad enough, the fox got to experience harsh, direct streams of powerful piss blasting into his two exposed eyes, neither able to blink at all, his eyelids long since removed. He could feel his eyes rippling as the streams hit them. It sending even more pain through his face and head. The acidic, harsh stinging pain soon followed as his eye sockets filled with the men's piss. The fox's body clenched as hard as it could, his tail curling as he could not stand the pain. It kept getting worse and worse until finally one his eyes burst out of its socket from the fluid's pressure. An open socket now taking a blast of piss as his eye hung out. The piss stream then moving over to his other intact eye, two streams striking it, quickly knocking that eye out as well. Being pissed apart was not what the critter had expected, but with his eye sight gone it became his reality. Unable to hear or see he showered in the remaining piss.

Another minute later each cock had stopped pissing, one by one, until just dripping men's genitals lay hanging out of their pants. The fox unable to comprehend what was even happening as his body burned all over. He used the last of his energy to curl into a ball, like a sleeping fox, the moss around him covered in pools of piss as it flowed freely from one dip in the moss to the next, a red tint of blood in the urine. The whole area reeked of men's piss, as strong as it could be, with a slight scent of fresh fox meat blended into it. The fox's eyes lay dangling, crushed in by the piss streams earlier, wrapped around his front two paws. The only thing the animal could taste and smell was pungent piss, distinctly male and human.

He spent the last few minutes of his life quivering, not from being cold, but from the stinging pain, not that the trappers had noticed. Earlier they had left one by one after drying their cocks in his pelt then tossing it aside. The fox's hide was useful as a cock rag to soak up piss residue and nothing else. The animal then unknowingly died alone, frightened and longing for the pain to end. He thought he was being marked to be kept alive, that this pain was just temporary as he slipped in and out of conciousness until death. He was left to rot in the soggy, piss-soaked moss, the scent of male humans a reminder to any animal to stay clear of the fox's corpse, least they become prey next. No predator dared approach the fox meat, It preserved to an extent until the rain eventually washed the piss away, leaving but a faint smell of men's urine.

The fox over time becoming nothing more than a pile of bones, claws, and fangs in the moss, with a little black nose still attached to his skull. Pawpads and dried up old fur still on his feet. Little bits of dried hide and fur skattered in the area as his rotted pelt blew around, sticking to trees and shrubs. The moss still indented from the animal's curled posture. Anyone seeing the creature would have assumed it merely died in its sleep peacefully, although the mild smell of men's piss would linger on as a strange coupling with a fox skeleton.