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Easter Six and the Foxhound Fucker

For bbbuuu

By Draconicon

Paperwork for the SBI was a triple-load of triplicate bullshit. Easter Six grumbled as he finished the third hard-copy of his account of the last case, pushing the sheets into the appropriate folders left on his desk by Accounting before putting that folder on top of two others (from Human Resources and the Armory, specifically), and then turned his attention to his computer. He still had to file the e-copy of the whole thing.

This is why nobody gets anything done when they're not in the field, he thought. Too much covering your ass.

Still, at least it meant that he always had four different places to look when he did need to cover his ass. The last thing he needed was someone higher-up looking at his bad luck record and thinking that he was sabotaging his SAs. The supernatural side of the agency wasn't exactly well-inclined towards the NAs, the natural agents like him.

He kept to typing, keeping his head down as he muttered from time to time, occasionally going back to correct a detail to keep it in line with the paper account. The last time that there'd been a discrepancy, he'd been in paperwork hell for over a month getting it fixed. He did not have the time or inclination to go through -

"Hey, Easter Butt."

His fingers went still, his head slowly turning to look up at the lip of his cubicle. One of the other NAs, one of the newbies that didn't have a code-name yet, met his eye, and the wolf chuckled.

"I heard that you and Thai took down a werewolf last night."

"I took down a werewolf. He made the arrest."

"Heh, I heard that you were trying to get the wolf's tongue out of your ass."

"You're going to want to check your sources."

"Really? I bet that you were loving it, weren't ya? Shaking that ass around all the time, bet that you're probably spending more time in the clinic than hunting monsters. You ever think about carrying condoms rather than bullets?"

"...Come here for a second."

#

"You know, that's the third computer this week that's exploded on you," Skyline, his hawk supervisor, said. "I'm sure that you have a good reason for this one."

"It backtalked me," Easter said.

"Uh-huh. And the glass shards sticking out of Lyle's nose are..."

"Probably a coincidence. Heard that the Armory might have let loose a poltergeist. Probably should have that checked."

"Right."

The pair of them watched as the medics cleared the wolf for further duty, though not before putting a rather large bandage around his nose and reminding him to breathe through his mouth for the rest of the day. The computer had been hauled away and replaced by another, leaving Easter free to get back to work.

Or so he thought.

"Anyway, I came down here for a reason."

"...And why's that?" Easter asked as he sat his ass back in his seat.

"There's a suspect down in interrogation. We need an NA down there."

"Pass."

"It's working with a psychic."

"Hard pass."

He shook his head, booting up the computer once more. Thankfully, the auto-save function to the cloud was good for something. His work had been saved. Getting back to work, he flicked open another tab, checking on the status of the werewolf they'd caught.

Getting sent to the Lodge. Good sign, he thought. Either they're getting smarter, quicker, or we're looking at a new breed of problem.

The Lodge was the codename for one of their prisons for supernatural creatures, generally reserved for the non-violent offenders, mostly shifters. He'd visited some of the people he'd arrested there a few times, seeing how they'd been doing, how they were recovering from their earlier lives. Most had a pretty good recovery and rehabilitation rate.

Most.

This guy's going to be stuck with more needles than a pincushion. Here's hoping they get something from it.

He'd gone back to the paperwork when Skyline snapped his fingers. A jolt of electricity leaped from his fingers to the rabbit's ears, temporarily turning them into a pair of tesla coils as they bounced the energy back and forth between them.

"FUCK!"

Easter jumped up, rubbing his ears frantically. The fur had jumped up and there were little hot spots all up and down the sides. Nothing dangerous, but it fucking hurt. Before he could glare at his supervisor, Skyline had already started pulling him along.

"Let me be frank. We need you down there."

"And why the hell do you need me? Get the psychics to do it."

"Because the suspect is also a psychic."

The rabbit rolled his eyes.

"Still not explaining anything here, boss."

"He's already humiliated Euclid."

...Okay, that's a bit more impressive, he thought, shaking his head. Euclid was the code-name of one of the better psychics that the Bureau had under its wings, a mole that he'd gone out for drinks with from time to time. Though rather mono-focused in conversation, he'd seen Euclid drill a hole through better mental barriers than his. If the suspect had already gotten around that, then they were a problem.

He pulled his arm free of the hawk's grip, shaking his head and pulling his ears back. The fur was finally going back down again, and he smoothed it down as much as he could to avoid showing the burn marks.

"Alright. What's the details?"

"Short version?"

"All we got, I'm guessing."

"You guessed right."

They ducked under one of the pixie swarms that carried paperwork from one place to another, turning into an elevator. The doors closed, and they began the long trip downwards.

"The guy's name is Barrett Rusely. Psychiatrist, runs a pretty extensive business out of the downtown area in Chicago. Some definite mind-control abilities, though we're not entirely sure of the extent of his reach and range. Enough to organize his patients into a money laundering business and delivery system for illegal goods, though."

"Power went to his head, sounds like."

"To his head and his dick. We're still interviewing his patients, but we've yet to find one that hasn't been violated in some way."

"So, not just a dirtbag, but a dickbag. Got it."

"Yes. I'm thinking that we can use you as a distraction to make sure that our other psychics can worm their way into the man's head. We need more proof that he is a mind controller than what we currently have."

"More? You mean ripping into Euclid's head wasn't bad enough?"

"All he did was make him draw dicks on his forehead. He could probably claim that the mole went out of his mind for a little while."

"...Hmm. Smart."

"Yes. And that's where you come in. Being a distraction."

"...Just one question."

"Yes?"

"Why me?"

"Well -"

"And if you say my ass, I'm pistol-whipping you, supervisor or not."

"...I wasn't going to say your ass."

"Right."

"You have training in resisting a psychic invader. Just like everyone else, yes, but you scored high on mental resistance during your entry exams."

"I haven't used that in years."

"Well, hopefully, you won't have to use it for long."

The hawk looked down at him, one eyebrow raised. There was a clear expectation there, one that Easter knew that he wasn't going to be able to deny. All the investigations by HR and the other parts of the Bureau against the injuries that his fellow agents sustained was barely held in check by Skyline running interference. If that well of goodwill dried up, then he was screwed as an agent.

He sighed.

"Fine."

"Excellent."

The hawk nodded, his smile right back on his beak. Easter shook his head, adjusting his belt as he ran through his memories of resistance training.

Don't look a psychic in the eye.

Don't answer their questions.

Be aware of anything that doesn't make sense in your head.

Don't repeat what they say.

Don't feel sorry for them.

"Oh, and your partner is Slinky."

"WHAT?!"

The elevator opened on the ferret in question before Easter could protest further. Slinky, properly known as Wessel Slinke, looked in at them with narrowed eyes and a downturned mouth. The skinny agent turned to Skyline.

"Him? You brought...him?"

"You'll be in a contained environment, and he is a skilled asset."

"You're joking. Do you remember what happened the last time I was assigned to him?"

"A few stairs and a light concussion," Easter muttered.

Slinky glared down at him, but didn't correct him.

And why not? That had been exactly what had happened last time. Chasing down a telekinetic was bad enough most of the time, but this one had been particularly good at using small objects to his advantage. Everything the size of a medium vase and smaller was essentially a bullet in the slimeball's hands.

It wasn't his fault that Slinky had been knocked down the stairs. Damn well wasn't his fault that he'd taken a soda can to the temple. Hell, he'd sent flowers, hadn't he?

The ferret grumbled.

"I'll make it work. Maybe he'll be distracted enough by Easter's ass that he won't be looking at me."

The rabbit narrowed his eyes in turn, but like Slinky, didn't say anything. Everyone else seemed distracted by the damn thing. Might as well be something that he used to his advantage, for once.

Skyline went back up the elevator, probably to one of the upper viewing galleries. The rabbit took a few deep breaths, following behind his new partner as they walked down the hallway that linked the interrogation rooms. The floor was lit from beneath with white tiles, the ceiling the same. The walls were black with metal doors, each one sealed with a series of old scribbles along the doorframes and with a triple deadbolt and mechanical lock that was, itself, locked behind a six-digit code.

I really shouldn't be here, he thought, though there was nothing that he could do about it now. If Slinky's here, that means that they don't expect this to be easy.

"Did this guy get anything out of Euclid?" he asked.

"Not sure. We haven't talked to him since."

"Think he knows why he's here now?"

"If he got far enough to control the mole? Probably."

"You going to loosen up?"

"Not around you, you..."

Easter was thankful that Slinky at least didn't take it further than that. The number of NAs and SAs that were constantly calling him 'slut' and 'whore', thinking that he used his body for his numbers in the field, was getting higher than he'd like. Plus, Slinky knew better. They'd worked together. The damn ferret knew that he knew his business.

They reached the door to the foxhound's chamber. Easter tapped out the code while Slinky put in the counter-runes, allowing them to enter without being injured.

Like most of the interrogation rooms, the walls were pure white, allowing for easy sigil applications if needed. A single plastic table with plastic legs dominated the center of the room, and three chairs were spread around it. Two on their side, one on the other side, and the foxhound occupied it.

He didn't need to ask Slinky what role to take. He was Bad Cop, Slinky was Silent Partner. They knew how this worked.

As they approached, the foxhound looked up, a small smile spreading across his face.

"Oh goodie, more agents."

Well, he knows that much, at least, he thought. Well, adjusting tactics a bit...

"So, when do I get my lawyer?" Barrett asked.

"Why? You scared we're gonna find something?" Eastern asked.

"No, I'm just concerned that I'm surrounded by madmen. The last guy that came in here was obviously disturbed. If you need a therapist, by the way -"

"We've got our own guys for that. You might need one yourself, after we're done with you."

"Oh, dear, oh dear. You aren't going to be doing something worse to me, are you?"

The foxhound's cockiness was already getting annoying. It was clear that he thought that he was smart enough to get out of this without any problems.

Easter would have been fine with that. The only reason they were going through with this interrogation was to see if he was someone that could be rehabilitated, perhaps put into mandatory service time with the agency. It was what most psychics got put through at some point or another, mostly because they were too stupid to keep their powers to themselves. If they didn't, or if the agency couldn't prove that they were worth trying to fix, then they were sent somewhere else.

After all, the Lodge wasn't the only prison that the SBI had.

Easter held out his hand, taking the file when Slinky offered it. He walked over to the table, hopping - literally - up onto the corner of it. He dangled his legs over the side, tapping his toes against one of the chair.

"Let's take a look here," he said. "Running a criminal ring from your office. Ethics and criminal violation in one, there. Sexual harassment. Fourteen counts of rape."

"I can't believe that you would try and convince my clients to stand against me."

"Heh, convince?"

Easter swung the file about, slapping the foxhound across the cheek with it. The smack was loud but harmless, the fact that he did it obviously more disturbing to the prisoner. Barrett gasped, his eyes going a bit wide.

"You're the 'convincing' one, you sick fuck. Wriggling into minds, digging into people's heads, pulling up all kinds of shit for them to deal with. You think that you're going to be getting out of this that easily? Heh, not without a confession."

"..."

"So, let me just cut to the chase, you asshole. I'm here because you just went rooting around in someone else's head, and they don't want you doing it again. And you know, I don't really want to be here. I want to end this as soon as possible. With fists and more if necessary."

"Or." Slinky interrupted. "You can confess, and make this much easier for all of us?"

The foxhound turned his head, the dog staring at the ferret. Not for long, but for a few seconds longer than he really needed to. Easter thought that the suspect was just trying not to look at him, but then the foxhound looked back, his eyes traveling up and down the rabbit's body.

"Couldn't be easier than this guy is on the eyes."

"No, it couldn't, but you should confess anyway."

"..."

Easter slowly turned his head back to the ferret. Slinky looked back at him, the slightest hint of red in his cheeks before looking away.

Great. Now I have to deal with that going on.

He turned back to the foxhound. Barrett was looking back at him, and the rabbit intentionally kept his eyes moving, looking at the little spot patterns around the eyes rather than at the eyes themselves.

Barret growled at him, but he refused to lower his gaze. Instead, he poked the dog on the nose.

"You really don't want to growl at me."

"Heh, what's the matter, hmmm? Why won't you let me look at your eyes properly?"

"I have a thing about eye contact. It makes me angry."

"Ah, then perhaps you can judge my eyes. Aren't they striking?"

"Heh, is that the line that you asked all your clients before taking control?"

The foxhound rolled his eyes, leaning back. For a second, Easter thought that he might be going on the wrong trail, but then -

"Hmmmm..."

The fox's hum had all the marks of a sound of consideration, but there was something else. Something...nudging...at his thoughts. Easter slammed his fist down on the table, disrupting the sound before it could build and echo across the room again, all the while throwing up a wall of old Thanksgiving recipes.

Mashed potatoes, made with one pound of Yukon gold, one stick of butter, a cup of half-and-half...

It worked, at least for the moment. Barriers were hardly the most effective of things, though, and would require more or less constant maintenance to keep it out.

If he's got both visual and audio connection capabilities, then he will be a lot more flexible than most of our psychics. No wonder Euclid got beat, he thought. Mole hearing and the vibrations from that sound would have knocked him right out of his own head.

He felt sorry for the mole, but he put that out of his head for the moment. He needed to focus on this guy.

Barrett finally gave up as the rabbit's rapid tapping kept breaking up the humming sound, making it next to impossible for the tone to build on itself. The foxhound sighed.

"I did enjoy keeping eye-contact with my patients, yes. They were most agreeable, and less likely to lie when I was keeping their gaze."

"You mean when you were hypnotizing them."

"All good psychiatrists have some skill with hypnosis. We all rely on a certain level of intimacy with our clients."

"Yes, but most of them don't steal free will."

"And there you go again. Why do you think I have any sort of skill with that?"

"You know where you are. You figure it out."

The foxhound was getting annoyed. Good. That meant that there was a chance that he might make a mistake.

Slinky, however, didn't know when to talk and when to shut up. The ferret jumped in.

"I imagine you had more intimacy with your clients than most."

"Oh, we had many different techniques to work through. Each one different for each client."

Easter didn't like the way that Barrett turned and hummed, again, very consideringly, before looking at the ferret. The two psychics made eye contact with one another, staring one another down.

The rabbit would have been quite happy to punch the other guy in the gut, but not only would that have been against the rules, it also would have shown just how desperate they actually were.

As the staring match continued, Slinky's fingers began to twitch, curling and uncurling into fists, while Barrett's body was as relaxed as could be, his smile still holding as he tapped his fingers on his arms, humming softly to himself all the while.

He knew that Slinky was a good psychic, despite their issues in the past, but he also knew that the ferret wasn't used to defending himself on two fronts like this. If he was right about the foxhound having a dual capability for making contact with another's mind, then Slinky was fighting with one weapon against a man with two. Possible, but not easy to win against if you weren't ready for it.

Finally, the two psychics broke their staring contest, and it was clear that Slinky had come away the poorer. Still standing, though, still keeping his arms crossed over his chest, still not giving in.

He always was too proud.

"Therapy is a healing process, of course. The mind and the body have to work together to get better. Sometimes, sex and intimacy is a good way of hurrying that along. It eases stress and soothes tensions. I mean, imagine how much better you'd feel if you could have the release you crave with your partner here?"

"That would be...good...but what you've gone well over the line. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep my partner restrained; you might want to listen to him.'

"Hey...Hey!"

Easter snapped his fingers, the rabbit pulling the attention of both psychics back to him. He glared at the ferret, hoping that Slinky was picking up what he was thinking - all the rules for not falling for this shit - and then turned back to the foxhound. He reached out and grabbed hold of the dog's collar, shaking his head.

"You're gonna stop this. Right now."

"Oh, dear, am I being threatened with brutality?"

"You think that's the worst of your problems?"

He leaned in, his sharp top teeth clicking against the bottom ones as he glared down at the foxhound's nose, keeping his mental barrier up as hard as he could as the psychiatrist started humming again.

"Brutality? Heh...I don't care about that. Like I said, I don't want to be here. We have evidence of all the things you've done. All it takes from you is a confession. And we're not using the regular courts here, asshole. We're using our courts. A confession gives you a chance to make good. If you don't want to give one, then you'll just have to take your lumps in the worst possible way. We have you over a barrel; you want to make it harder on yourself, be my fucking guest."

The foxhound whistled, the high, piercing sound slamming against his mental barrier with the force of a tank shell. He winced slightly but kept up the useless information stream, still running through the mashed potatoes recipe and then going to the turkey.

"Bent over a barrel?" the foxhound asked. "Heh, I doubt it. But I think he's going to like bending you over the table."

There was a nod, a nod that he almost didn't see. Before Easter could do anything, there was a sudden bang! The electric lock was shot off, leaving them sealed in the room.

Slinky was faster than he remembered, too, the ferret grabbing him from behind and shoving him over the table. He felt the other agent's erection against his ass, too, rubbing, grinding, pushing up against it. The feeling of his own partner going after him was almost enough to make him spit nails, but he knew better than to give in to anger just yet.

The suspect stood up, smiling.

"It's so cute when someone thinks that they can resist. So many psychics here, too, with so many different powers. Once I get out of here, there will be so many new toys for me to play with."

"Nngh. You know how I said you could have it easy? You just threw that option right out the fucking window."

"I don't know how you are resisting, of course, but you've been dealing with my weaker powers. I think it's time for you to see what I can really do."

The psychiatrist whistled louder, and the little resisting tremors that Easter could feel in Slinky's hands faded away, making the ferret grab at him a bit more firmly, holding him down more successfully. One of those hands reached back to his pants, pulling down on the rear, dragging his slacks and his underwear down little by little. The feeling of them sliding down, knowing that his ass was getting exposed to everyone that might be watching through the various windows on the upper and mid-levels was not something that he enjoyed.

Slinky did not stop grinding or thrusting against him, either, always rubbing, always nudging, always grinding that little bit closer. The ferret's bulge hadn't quite slipped free yet, but it was getting close, particularly as that humping seemed to be pulling down the psychic's jeans.

And it didn't help that the psychiatrist was getting to his feet, showing off a hell of a bulge of his own.

"You...asshat."

It was a weak insult, but it was the best one he had when he was getting ground against from either side. The foxhound chuckled, leaning forward -

CRACK!

There was a slam against his barrier so strong that he almost lost all control. The rabbit gasped as that 'contact' between him and the bulge, the bit of cloth all that kept the worst of it from his head, nearly shattered his defenses. He bit his lip, harnessing the pain as best he could to add some plaster to the barrier, but it was already crumbling, already trying to fall in.

As he was turned, his head made to face the reflective bits of glass further up, he could see himself reflected there, but it was not quite the reality of what was happening to him then and there. His body was writhing, panting with pleasure, and he could see both Slinky and Barrett with their dicks out, one slamming into him from behind, one slamming into his mouth.

Barrett laughed, the words filtering through the cracks in his mind.

"Oh, poor little Easter. The little bunny slut finally giving people what they want. Oh, what a horrible fate. Oh, how you must have never wanted something like this to happen."

He growled, barely keeping his mouth shut. He could feel the bulge rubbing against his face, knew that he was looking at an illusion of what the goddamn psychiatrist wanted to have happen. Not...not reality.

Not yet.

I'm a top. I'm a goddamn top, and you're not going to turn me into the bitch that everyone wants to fantasize about.

If he could just get Slinky free, or if he could get the asshole in front of him distracted -

BANG!

Another slam on the wall, this time far stronger than the last. Easter twitched, shaking his head -

BANG!

And slammed his cheekbones right into the table. The jarring feeling snapped him out of it enough to make him able to see the world properly again.

The handcuffed foxhound had his dick out, rubbing the head of his cock against the rabbit's face. Every time it made contact, he could feel the hound's power getting stronger. Touch must have been an enhancer for him, allowing for a fuller control.

Easter growled under his breath, trying to turn his head this way and that to avoid getting that dick shoved down his throat. Barrett was grumbling, trying to force his way forward, attempting to get the right angle even as his teasing continued.

"Let me in, little bunny, let me in. You know you want a good, tasty cock. It's what all your species wants. Just let me give you this little treat..."

There was no way he was letting that happen, though he could feel that it would if he didn't hurry. The SBI agents watching weren't going to get through that door anytime soon, and even though he could feel Slinky shaking, feel him trying to fight, there was no way that he was breaking free from this control.

The table rattled as Slinky bucked against him, the ferret's cock finally free of his pants, and something rolled near his face. Easter blinked at the pen that had slipped out, an idea running through his head.

Okay, you fucking bastard...

He grabbed it and then reached out, pulling the foxhound closer. There was no resistance; Barrett was laughing, obviously thinking that he was about to get just what he wanted. He wriggled forward, slapping his cock back and forth against the rabbit's face, smearing pre and musk all over Easter's cheeks. It took everything that Easter had to keep his head on straight until -

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

He jammed the pen right up against the back of the foxhound's pants, shoving it right where he knew the asshole was. He wrenched it back and forth, forcing underwear and rigid plastic and glass up where the sun didn't shine.

"Looks like you never tried anything back there, you quack!"

Barrett tried to back away, but with his concentration shattered - and Slinky pulling back in full humiliated embarrassment - Easter was back in the game. The rabbit lunged forward, grabbed the foxhound by the shoulders, and shoved.

He hit the chair, the chair hit the pen -

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Get it out, get it out, get it out!"

"Good fucking luck with that..."

Easter pulled himself back, dragging his pants back up just as the door beeped open. He refused to look away from the foxhound as he buttoned himself back up, imagining that the broken glass tube on the outside of the pen, plus the shards and splinters of plastic, were probably ripping the psychiatrist's ass up pretty well.

He turned around, shaking his head at his supervisor.

"You got your fucking proof. And I'm done with psychics."

"Um..."

"He's got auditory and visual connection capabilities, enhanced by physical contact. Get a technomancer or something to do a digital conversation."

"Um...yes. Do you want the rest of the day off?"

"With pay."

He stomped out, ignoring the stuttering apologies from Slinky, ignoring the many stares from the other agents. All he wanted was the chance to get all the goddamn pre off his face so that he could go back home.

That ferret is going to write up the paperwork for this one. I am not the one that's going to write 'Nearly got fucked by my incompetent partner'.

He needed a vacation. He seriously, seriously needed a vacation.

The End