Cooper Gets Caught

Story by Jeeves on SoFurry

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Sly Cooper gets caught in the middle of a heist, but has far more pressing matters to worry about than just life behind bars! :o


This story was written for Silvergatomon as their Patreon commission reward for July 2018. It contains M/F sexual acts between consenting adults, and watersports. :3

Cooper Gets Caught

Quietly and carefully, Sly's hooked cane guided its pointed metal tip through the metal air-con grate and teased it out of place. Setting it aside, the raccoon leapt across to the wall of the museum and slid down a few feet until he could kick out with his legs and slide them wholly into the now open vent. Within the metal tunnel, he shuffled and wiggled his way downward, eyes closed in the near pitch darkness, feeling his way between metal plate after metal plate, counting the distance of each metre long section until he felt the direction of the air flow change around him. Pushing away from the walls, Sly slipped into the next section of tunnel, and soon he felt the outstretched hands moving carefully in front of him making contact with yet another vent.

Slipping the goggles resting in place over his blue cap down to cover his face, Sly grinned. Criss-crossing the vent were several red laser beams, invisible to the naked eye but not to the goggles with which Bentley had provided him. His eyes darted from side to sign, checking the placement of the beams and following them back to the control unit from which their signal was emanating. It took him mere moments to pick the lock of the unit, and another few seconds to slip into place the chrono-repeater which would allow him to bypass the lasers entirely without triggering the alarm. Sure enough, as soon as its own green light clicked on and a counter began to indicate the number of loops it had fed back into the system, Sly carefully reached out with his cane and broke one of the laser beams.

Silence.

No alarms. No flashing lights and blaring sirens. It had worked. The chrono-repeater was successfully feeding the alarm system with precisely what it wanted to hear, that every second the laser beam was making contact with the receiving sensor on the far side of the grate. Even now that this wasn't the case, it was still sending the system the same sensory data from when it had first been activated. Thus, Sly was able to take it slow and steady once again as he pulled the vent itself out of place, and carefully stuck his cane out into the corridor after attaching a small mirror to its hook, checking for security sweeps that might have been off schedule or any cameras that weren't on the month old blueprints with which they'd been working.

Everything seemed ideal. The corridor into which the vent emerged was silent and still, and at the far end of the corridor Sly could already see the exhibition room which held his target.

The Casa del Huevos oil painting had been missing from the art scene for decades after being stolen by a well known crime syndicate back in the sixties, but earlier that very year it had been generously returned to the museum by a young member of that same family who claimed to be out of the business his now late father had run, and which had been the only profession of their family for generations. Now it stood in pride of place bearing a placard celebrating the individual who had returned it, and had been cited by many news organisations as the jumping off point for the family's new legitimate business success, with people lining up to invest in and work with this ex-mobster with a heart of gold.

The only problem was... the painting was a fake. The real Casa del Huevos was still sitting proud upon the mantlepiece of that family's ancestral home, and Sly knew that for a fact, because less than a month ago he had padded right past it as he was there to steal a glance at their family's private business ledgers, and see whether or not the new generation's reformation was indeed genuine. Needless to say, it was not. This was all a publicity stunt to sway public opinion in the family's direction, and to make continued Interpol investigations against them seem like just another witch hunt of the modern era. And if Sly could steal that painting, and get it to an art expert not on the family's books to prove once and for all it was a skilful but modern forgery, the public would finally know the truth.

Plus... then when he stole the real Casa del Huevos from the family, it would be so closely scrutinised that there would be no doubt in anyone's mind that it was the real thing.

Sly grinned. It was the perfect plan. Flawless in its conception and thus far in its execution too.

The raccoon shuddered slightly, and squeezed his thighs together as he withdrew his cane and the mirror attached to its end. Well, okay. Mostly flawless. After all, he really, really should have gone to the bathroom before he began his stakeout. But honestly, if needing to pee was the biggest problem that he would face on this heist, that was a sacrifice that Sly was more than willing to make. After all, how bad could it get?

He swung down from the now open air conditioning vent and landed silently behind a marble pillar upon which stood a regal looking elephant, trunk raised in a silent, trumpeting call of triumph. Peering out from behind it, Sly darted to the next statue resting in the corridor, then the next, and the next, and...

His ears twitched, and his bladder ached. He frowned and ducked around behind the very back of the statue behind which he was currently positioned. Sure enough moments later the sound of footsteps became more prominent, and alongside them something that Sly hadn't been expecting. Voices. Plural.

"...take the advantages of this job as they come to you, y'know? I wasn't much of an art fan when I started here. I thought it was all way too snobby and over my head. But, now, without a bunch of art critics and yuppies all around spouting their own opinions on what each painting or sculpture means to them, I really enjoy walking around and just looking at the paintings every shift. Admiring them for what they are and thinking about how damn hard the artists must have worked to make them."

The security guards here were meant to be walking solo, not in pairs. Sly scowled. He hated it when the planning phase of a heist proved inaccurate. He was more than capable of improvising, but it was always much easier when you could just follow the plan believing it to be totally reliable and foolproof. He carefully peeked out from behind the statue, and sure enough he saw two figures stop and stand directly in front of the painting he was here to steal. He frowned, and his thighs clenched themselves together once again as his bladder reminded him that it still very much would like to be emptied out at the closest possible opportunity.

"Like, this one. Forget about trying to figure out some deeper meaning, just look at the painting itself and admire how damn funny it is. A bunch of chickens roosting in a stately home. Look at that adorable lil' guy sitting in the fruit bowl there. I think he's my favourite."

Sly waited for the two security guards to move on. A minute passed. Then two. Then five. He found his breathing growing ragged as the longer he sat there, the more he thought about just how badly he needed the bathroom. It wouldn't have been nearly as bad or as urgent a problem had he found himself with something like a heist to keep his mind off it, but now he was just sitting there. Kneeling behind that statue doing absolutely nothing, while he listened to the security guard and what sounded like a new employee he was training talk about their favourite mansion dwelling chickens.

"Oh my god, is that one wearing a monocle?! This is the best fucking painting ever!"

They laughed uproariously together, and Sly barely held back a strained, frantic growl. Finally though, after almost fifteen full minutes of the two of them standing by that painting and chatting about it, they began to move on. To make their way down the corridor, past the trembling form of Sly as he scooted around the statue to avoid ever entering their line of sight, and finally out of view. A ragged gasp of relief escaped the raccoon, and after waiting what was probably far less time than he should have to ensure that they weren't going to double back for any reason, he crept out from behind the statue and with cane in hand bolted straight towards the object that he was here to steal. Never mind that he was on a clock and the longer it took him the greater the likelihood of his being caught, right now Sly wanted this heist to be over as swiftly as possible so that he could go take a leak. Even now that he was on the move again his bladder ached constantly with how full and desperate for release it felt, and every motion Sly made, every step he took only made things worse as it jiggled and sloshed the apparent gallons upon gallons of urine that felt as though they had spontaneously poured their way into existence within him over the last thirty minutes.

Pausing only at the very edge of the room where the Casa del Huevos was located, Sly forced himself to fall still once more and to re-focus his mind upon the plan. His toes curled down against the cool stone floor below, and his hands were shaking as he reached into one of the small pouches attached to his belt and withdrew several miniature drones alongside a micro-control unit for them. Fighting to maintain focus, Sly activated the first drone and listened to it whirr its way up to the camera on the eastern side of the room. He activated its magnetic lock, and watched as it affixed itself to the side of the camera. One of the lights on his control unit turned green as just like with the lasers, the drone allowed the camera to capture a few more seconds of footage before beginning to loop the empty room. He repeated the process for the second, third and fourth cameras, somehow managing to manoeuvre the drones successfully even with his bladder demanding a certain degree of his brain power just to hold its needs in check. After what felt like an eternity though the fifth green light flickered into being upon his control unit, and Sly breathed a ragged sigh of relief as he realised that now all he had to do was approach the painting, bypass whatever pressure sensor they had to notify them when it was removed from the wall, and...

He peered out into the room, ready to go and do that final step necessary in order to acquire the painting, when his heart skipped a beat. There, on the far side of the room, was a small source of additional light beyond the low night-time lightning required for the security staff to wander around. An illuminated sign bearing a trio of designs upon it. A stick figure, a second stick figure in what appeared to be some sort of dress, and a third sitting in a simple representation of a wheelchair. Bathrooms. His head span, and his bladder ached more desperately than ever. Sly knew that he should stay on mission, that any extra time spent or any deviation from the plan was certain to add extra complications to his exit strategy. But... god, he needed to go. He needed to go so, so very badly.

He darted across the room, not towards the painting but towards the bathrooms, and into the small corridor which broke off into three separate doorways for the trio of separate bathrooms. Joy and relief spread over his face as he darted towards the men's room door, until... until his instincts kicked in, and he glanced quickly around to check the walls of this small, additional corridor that hadn't been covered by their planning.

His eyes fell upon the camera attached to the eastern wall. Of course the bathrooms themselves would not have cameras within them, but this one had a clear view of all three doors and the entirety of the small hallway beyond them. He winced as it whirred slightly, and turned on its axis to centre him more completely in frame. He was just about to make a break for the men's room anyway, to at least empty his bladder before the inevitable transpired, when a loud klaxon-like alarm began to ring out all around the museum's interior, and a crackling voice called out to him from a speaker built into the camera that had caught him red handed.

"W-whoever you are, get down on the floor and put your hands behind your head. Armed security will be here, and if you are not cooperative, they have authorisation to use force. I say again, get down on the floor and put your hands behind your head."

One last time Sly glanced longingly, desperately at the bathroom door, but as he heard the sound of voices yelling and pounding footsteps rapidly approaching, he groaned as he dropped first to his knees, then down to the floor entirely as instructed.

He was caught. Game over. And now no matter how badly he needed to piss, he had much more immediate and bigger problems to deal with.

*********

"I've gotta say, I'm almost a little disappointed..."

Sly looked up as he sat in the back of the police cruiser, trembling from head to toe not with sorrow or shame over being caught or fear of what would come next, but from the fact that it had been another hour. Another hour since he had been caught, and still no-one had let him go to the bathroom. Perhaps quite rightly they all believed he would use such an occasion as a chance to escape, but right then he frankly would have let them keep him handcuffed. He would have let three officers carry him to the bathroom and point him at the urinal within their tight grasp, that was how desperate he was to go.

And now... now he realised why he had been kept here all this time. Why for the last half hour he had been locked in the back of this cop car without anyone coming even remotely close to him. They'd been waiting. Waiting for someone else more capable of dealing with a criminal of his renown. And sure enough, there was only one such person who could possibly have fit the bill.

"I always thought that it would be me that got to cuff you, Sly. Not some newbie rentacop on his first shift! Though, I gotta say it's mighty nice of you to set that guy up for life by giving him that feather in his cap."

Carmelita slipped into the rear of the cop car with its tinted windows and no fewer than six officers standing around it on guard. Unlike the others on such high alert though, she elbowed Sly almost casually, almost playfully to get him to move over so that she could sit down next to him. The raccoon couldn't help but chuckle back at the fox, the beautiful vixen who was pretty much the only cop in the world he considered his equal in terms of intellect and skill. Nevertheless he gasped audibly as he wiggled his way over and aggravated his bladder with the motion once again, his cheeks flushing crimson as the Interpol agent looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"S-sorry, Carm. It's not you. It's just... can I be perfectly honest?"

The vixen smirked and leaned back in her seat, amused and undeniably curious.

"It'd be the first time ever, but... sure. Go ahead and be honest with me. If nothing else it will make for a good laugh when I write up my report."

Sly shuddered and blushed deeper still, but whether Carmelita believed him or not, he still had to tell her. He still had to warn her.

"The reason I got caught... t-the reason I walked into that camera's sights without thinking? I needed to pee. I still need to. Really, r-really fucking badly, Carmelita."

Sure enough, the vixen snorted with laughter.

"Oh really? You do, huh? C'mon, Cooper. That's weak. You think I'm gonna take you out of this car where you're surrounded on all sides and let some dumbass uniform officer take you into the bathroom on your own?"

Sly's eyes darted to the cops standing on guard all around them, visible through the car's tinted windows but not reacting whatsoever to the Interpol agent's comment. Camelita saw his curiosity, and she giggled before loudly clapping her hands together. Sly jumped, and gave a yelp as the shock of the loud noise almost made him lose control of his bladder entirely for a split-second. But to his surprise, once again there was absolutely no reaction from any of the agents.

"Noise cancelling system built into the framework of the car. Perfect for containing a more rowdy prisoner without disturbing the public, or in your case, perfect to keep you from sweet talking any of the officers guarding you into letting you take a quick jaunt to the nearest restroom."

The raccoon's cheeks flushed deeper still, and as it suddenly made much more sense to him why he had been so completely ignored since being placed in this car, it also allowed for another thought to cross his mind.

"So, even though there's officers right there... we're basically alone together?"

He tried with all his power to put aside his bladder's constant and now desperate, all but unbearable aching, and to smile at Carmelita. To fix her with that devilish grin of his that he knew she loved. The vixen snorted with laughter once again, but he saw her own face redden to match his own. He saw her eyes dart around the car to ensure that all the officers on guard were still at their posts, and that there were no other officials moving in to try and get in on the interrogation she had asked to be allowed to conduct before they even attempted to move Sly to a more secure location.

Once she seemed satisfied that they weren't going to be interrupted though, the vixen didn't swoon before his teasing attempt at flirtation. Instead, she leaned over and shamelessly pressed her muzzle to Sly's own in a deep, passionate kiss. His eyes bulged, and for the second time in as many minutes he almost lost control of his bladder completely from the shock and delight of feeling her kiss him.

When their lips parted once again, both fox and raccoon panting heavily as their tongues lingered in contact and left a thin strand of saliva glistening between them for a few seconds even after they finally moved away, Camerlita grinned at the stunned raccoon whose cap was now sitting at a rather skewed angle, and whose face was locked in a mixture of confusion, delight and desperation.

"Seduce me if you want, Sly. You know how I feel about you, and you know that's not gonna stop me from making you face justice."

She leaned forward and nuzzled gently against his flushed face, and Sly let loose a strained yelp of his own as moments later he felt a hand brush over his crotch. This was far from the first time that he and Carmelita had blurred the line between cop and crook. But, never before had she been quite so bold and unabashed as this. Never had she been so forward at a time when they were so closely surrounded by other cops who could conceivably interrupt and catch them at any moment. Yet still, her hand rubbed against the front of his tight grey trousers, and despite Sly's desperate need for release of a very different kind, he soon felt himself responding to that contact in the only way his body could.

"C-Carmelita... please."

He gasped as he felt her fingers dextrously teasing open the front of his trousers, soon exposing the smooth black underwear beneath, then finally the stiffening length of his cock as she took it into her hand with a tender growl and a knowing grin.

"Oh no, you don't get to ask me for anything, Sly. You're gonna cum for me, and then you're gonna tell me all about what it is you were there to steal. I don't want you to have any reasons to distract me. I don't want you to even think about trying to seduce me and get me to slip up and let you loose again. So, we'll get this out of the way right here, right now... and then you're gonna be my model prisoner, right?"

The raccoon shuddered and grunted as the fox caressed his cock, whining and thrusting up against her, straining helplessly against the cuffs binding his hands behind his back even as he shook his head.

"It's n-not that, I swear. I... I'm not asking, n-not begging you for anything. I'm warning you. I wasn't kidding before. I... h-haahhhhgod, I need to use the bathroom. I need to go so, so badly, Carm. I just... I need you to know, so you know I'm not trying to embarrass you, to humiliate you. I still think y-you're amazing, and... ah, I wish I could... w-wish we could share this together, like you planned."

Carmelita's expression did turn from one of amusement to more sincere curiosity as she heard what sounded like genuine concern and desperation in Sly's voice, but she cast it aside. She'd been tricked and teased into letting the raccoon go one too many times before now to ever trust his most heartfelt pleas. She'd believed him when he told her he had amnesia, and had been burned by that lie to her intense chagrin. But not again. Not this time. Though, she couldn't help but be curious as to what it was he had planned, even if she wouldn't ever let herself fall for it.

"Embarrass me? Sly, no-one else can hear or see us. Everything we do in here is just between you and me."

The vixen's hand not stroking Sly's own erection caressed his cheek tenderly, and then fell away from the raccoon as it slipped down the length of Carmelita's own lithe, beautiful body before beginning to unbutton her own tightly fitted jeans.

"What we share right here, right now isn't for the courts. It's just for you and me. S-so that afterwards, when I do arrest and prosecute you to the full extent of the law, you know it's just business. N-not... mmnhhh, not pleasure."

Her hand upon Sly's cock slowed its own masturbatory ministrations for a few seconds as Carmelita's head threw itself back, a groan of pleasure escaping the vixen as she reached into her own underwear and began to stimulate herself. Her rich blue hair flowed freely around her beautiful face as the pleasure of their mutual masturbation flooded visibly through her, but as much as Sly might have loved to watch her pleasure herself all the way to orgasm, the relenting of the pleasure surging through his own body had given his still hard, still erect and exposed cock the chance that it needed.

He shook from head to toe, his ringed tail flicking from side to side as he felt the pressure upon his bladder building and building to ever greater heights now that his body was loosened up by that brief bout of intense masturbation. Even if he'd wanted to, Sly couldn't hold back any longer. He couldn't stop what nature demanded of him.

"Carmelita..."

He gasped, trembling in his own embarrassment and excitement all rolled into one.

"I'm sorry. I... I'm g-gonna..."

His muzzle fell slack. His eyes bulged, and a moment later, just as Carmelita was whimpering gleefully as she rubbed at her clit, wordlessly asking herself if Sly was really so worked up that he was going to cum so soon, so swiftly under her ministrations, the raccoon let loose.

It wasn't cum, but hot urine that burst from the tip of his trembling erection. Erupting with such force at first that it hit the roof of the police cruiser in which they sat together, drumming against it and spraying back down over both of the people sitting beneath the now unstoppable fountain. It rained down over both Carmelita's and Sly's own quaking bodies, and sure enough moments later the raccoon heard the vixen beside him crying out in overwhelmed shock as her beautiful fur and clothes were doused in the flow of the cock that she was still holding within one now violently shaking, tightly clutching hand.

"S-Sly!!"

The vixen's eyes bulged, and her cheeks flushed scarlet as she felt Sly's urine hitting her buxom chest, her face, even running down the arm that was disappearing into her underwear. She stared at him in horror, in surprise and humiliation, and whimpered in utter dismay as far from tilting his cock away from her and trying at least to spray some unoccupied portion of the car's rear with it, she gave a desperate grunt and turned the tip of his cock more desperately towards herself.

"H-how did you know?! How the fuck did you know?!"

Sly could only gasp, moan in relief as he finally felt his bladder emptying out, and stare in shock and wonder at the Interpol agent's reaction. She didn't look angry. She didn't look upset or humiliated, at least not in the disgusted way he had expected to see. And, as he watched her pull his still freely gushing, pissing cock towards her, no longer being hit just by the splashback but with the full force of his urination, he saw her eyes roll back into her head with unfathomable delight. He saw the hand between her legs go into overdrive as she began to whimper, to shudder and to violently, urgently masturbate herself as she was covered in piss. His hot, fresh piss. He saw it all, and in that moment realised the impossible... though seemingly actually just very improbable, truth.

"Piss on me! O-oh... ohh god, yes... y-you naughty, dirty criminal! Ah, aahh god, fuck yes! All over me! Everywhere, j-just like I imagined! Don't stop, d-don't... yes!"

She liked it.

No. Not liked.

Carmelita loved it, and by the sounds of her cries, she'd known full well that she loved it long before Sly had ever accidentally allowed for her to experience the real thing.

"Don't stop! Ah! Ahhh, I'm close! I'm s-so... oohh god keep doing it. Keep pissing on me! Please. Please, Sly, I... I love it! I love you! Oh m-my god, Sly! My Sly!! _Aaaahhgod, yessssssssss _!"

Still gripping Sly's cock, tilting it back and forth so it soaked her trembling body from face to crotch, Carmelita shrieked happily as she climaxed within the thankfully soundproof car. Sly had seen her cum, made the vixen cum before, but never like this. Never so hard, never so devastatingly intense as she visibly and audibly came then. He had never seen her cum for so long, or do so as loudly as she did, the crotch of her jeans growing even darker with the floods of her own ejaculate as her fingers continued to work inside her clothes than they had from the torrent of piss gushing out over them as Sly's bladder continued to empty itself throughout her peak.

In fact, it seemed that Carmelita wasn't going to stop, that she wasn't going to let herself stop until Sly was done. And thus, as his piss continued to flow from his over-filled and desperate bladder for close to another half a minute, the vixen's face grew more and more frantic, more and more overwhelmed as her body refused to let her stop cumming for that entire duration. Exhausted, ravaged by the intensity of the pleasure, but still unable to stop for as long as even a trickle of piss was still hitting her trembling, soaking wet body.

A soft whimper escaped the fox as finally, at long last the raccoon's flow slowed, then ceased. She stared up at Sly for a few moments as she slumped down into the soaking wet leather back seat beneath her, and gave a giddy, almost drunken giggle.

"G-Goddammit, Sly..."

She shook her head in playful frustration. His face flushed, but he smirked back at her.

"What is it?"

Her eyes were heavy, and her voice became more and more slurred and unfocused with every word she spoke.

"Y-you're gonna get away, aren't you? You're gonna escape, a-and... and I'm gonna be... I won't b-be able to stop you..."

She shuddered, groaned as her fingers pulled themselves free from her soaking wet underwear, and drew that dripping hand up to her muzzle. Her lips had barely closed around a couple of her fingers before her eyes shut, and she barely managed to suckle upon her own juice-stained digits more than a handful of times before the last of the tension went out of her body, and her breathing finally began to grow more shallow and regular.

Sly blinked. He whispered her name.

"Carmelita?"

She stirred, but her eyes didn't move.

"Oh no, I'm getting awaaaaay!"

He whispered in a teasingly playful tone, shaking at his handcuffs.

The vixen snored.

Sly almost laughed aloud, but he didn't. Instead, he just grinned. He just beamed down at the piss-stained but somehow even more beautiful, satisfied form of the cop he loved. And then... then as he spotted the outline of a bundle of keys in her tight and soaking wet jeans' pocket, and felt his brain kicking into gear more coherently now that it was no longer taken up by his desperate need to use the bathroom, Sly began to plot his escape.

In fact, not only his escape, but how he would do so while simultaneously keeping the rest of the police officers from ever finding out about Carmelita's current condition, and stealing the painting which he had come to steal in the first place all before the vixen woke up from her little post-coital nap.

After all, if there was one thing that Sly loved more than using his skills to expose another criminal... it was showing off just how damn good at it he could be to Inspector Carmelita while he did so.

By Jeeves

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