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Sam couldn't remember the last time he had been this nervous. Even that one night his father opened the door to find his son had been brought home by the police, his stomach had done fewer somersaults than today. He had just turned twenty-one, and had gone mercilessly over the top with his friends. Apparently he had broken another guy's nose. According to his buddies, it had happened while they were walking home through the adjacent park. On one of the benches, a man was sitting next to a very woozy-looking woman, trying to get her to drink some more. Without hesitation, he must have run over to the two and punched the guy so hard he fell off the bench. As it turned out later the situation had been far less drastic than it had first appeared - the woman was suffering from hypoglycaemia and the cup had not contained alcohol or worse, but simply juice. Fortunately, the guy did not press charges in the end. He had gotten off lightly, except for the half year of house arrest he got.

When he thought about it, he had come a long way. Never would Sam have thought that one day he would have a job in which he would put in as much work as he did here. Then again, the Foundation was certainly no ordinary employer and his job was certainly not an everyday one.

His eyes wandered over the eleven other participants of the written test. Those who were taking the exam for the second or third time were much more relaxed than the newcomers and technically there was no reason to be as nervous as he was. Well, there was one, and he was probably sitting in the next room frowning and letting them fail one after another. No, he was doing him injustice with that assumption, Sam thought. Dr. Eslam Salah was the personification of ‚tough but fair.' Since he found his way into the Foundation almost ten years ago, Dr. Salah had been his great role model. As it soon turned out, however, he regarded him more as a nuisance - a young, unreliable guy who didn't play by the rules but whose results were unfortunately too good to erase his memory and put him back out on the street.

For the third time in the last five minutes, he glanced at his watch. Sam tried hard to stay calm. It took all his willpower to keep his tail from banging against the legs of the chair. He admitted his methods were often unconventional, but was this kind of torture really necessary?

Finally, finally, the door opened and the beak of Dr. Salah's assistant appeared. In alphabetical order he called them up one by one. Although there were only four other candidates ahead of him, those last few minutes almost stretched into infinity. "Samuel Farley?" He winced internally at the mention of his name, took a big swig from his water bottle and followed the assistant into the adjoining room.

Dr. Salah sat on the other side of a simple table with his legs crossed. He barely looked up as Sam entered the room, just gestured for him to sit. As always, the jackal's sand-colored coat was cropped short and groomed to perfection. The examiner pushed up his horn-rimmed glasses and let his eyes once again deliberately glide over the exam. After a long pause, he set the paper aside. "I congratulate you, Mr. Farley. You were third in this year's class." Sam couldn't stop his tail from swinging back and forth. "Does that mean I passed?" Dr. Salah took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Yes Mr. Farley, that is what it means." The jackal leaned forward. His gaze had something penetrating that made Sam shiver. "You know how I feel about you. If it had been up to me, you would not even have been approved for this year's exam. But your merits during the 396 incident and your results speak for themselves." Sam tugged his shirt into place. "Thank you very much sir. I was merely in the right place at the right time. It was more coincidence than anything else." "I agree," Dr. Salah replied before leaning back with a sigh. "Anyway, as of today, you have level three security clearance. I assume you want to join our task force. Surely you have already been informed that this requires a physiological as well as psychological test. The next evaluation will take place in four weeks. Until then, you will continue to devote yourself to your security activities, where you can cause as little damage as possible. You will..."

The Jackal was abruptly interrupted by the frantic beeping of his pager. Annoyed, he took the small device out of his pocket. After a few seconds he put it back and quickly stood up. "Please excuse me." Turning to his assistant, he added, "You handle the rest. Consult my records if you need to. Let Mr. Farley know where he is working for the time being and bring the next one in. I'll probably be back in an hour." Without waiting for a response, he left the room and hurried down the hall.

His assistant cleared his throat and sheepishly plucked one of his feathers from his sleeve. He took Dr. Salah's place, glanced at his clipboard and frowned. Realizing it, he blinked a few times and tried to look professional. "It says here that you are initially assigned to 002. Your shift will begin immediately." Sam couldn't help but notice that the last sentence sounded more like a question. The assistant read through the sheet again. "Yes, it's all correct. 002, start immediately. You know where to go?" Sam made a sound of agreement. He didn't try to hide his disappointment. Sure, he hadn't expected to get one of the big ones right away, but 002? It almost felt like an insult. A (literal) living room that no one had entered in years and which posed no further danger was far less than what he had hoped for. After all, it wasn't even being researched at the moment.

His mood sank even further as soon as he left the room. 002's containment zone was at the other end of the site. It would take him a good fifteen minutes to get there. At least the hallways were less busy than during the day, one of the many advantages of the night shift.

After a quick trip to the cafeteria, Sam headed out. There was something reassuring about the hallways. Although they all looked the same, not unlike the hallways of a hospital, and although the only sounds were his own footsteps and the soft hum of fluorescent lights, they did not unsettle him. On the contrary, he found it downright peaceful.

His eyes wandered to the orange card in his hand. A large three adorned its right side. He would have had to lie if he had said he was not proud. When he started here, he had had little ambition. After all, the choice had been whether to spend the rest of his life as a staff member or return to his old life with his memory wiped. The latter had not been an option for him. Not after what he had seen.

He took a sip of the vending machine coffee. Until he started here, it had been impossible for Sam to drink even a drop of the bitter brew. A colleague finally persuaded him to take a cup from the vending machine in break room number three. He was skeptical, of course, but to his great surprise it tasted divine. He stopped just outside one of the security doors to hold his card up to the machine. With a soft beep, he was granted entry. Gradually, the coffee machine had become an open secret among the staff. In addition, there was an unspoken rule that no superior should ever find out about it. Because 'those up there' had the bad habit of putting possible anomalies out of reach of the lower ranks. So everything about the coffee machine was completely normal. Absolutely nothing unusual, no sir. It was certainly perfectly normal for the machine to intuitively spit out the right kind of coffee and to convince even the biggest opponent of the hot beverage.

His cup moved from one paw to the other as he approached the guardroom. With a soft whistle, the door opened, revealing a spacious office. It was located in a box above the actual containment room. A window of bulletproof glass took up the entire front wall of the room. In front of it was a desk and several work surfaces with laptops, one of which was currently being used by a young woman. When she noticed him, she looked up. "You're the new guy, right? I was told you were coming." He shook her paw. "I'm Sam, nice to meet you." "Kayla," she introduced herself. "Kayla Richards. Nice to meet you, Sammy. You have really pretty fur." Puzzled, he searched for words, but then confined himself to a brief "Thank you," and a surprised stammer.

His eyes followed her hand, but he was distracted by a strip of bright fur. It took Sam a moment to realize that he was staring right into her cleavage and even more so that she wasn't wearing a bra under the loose top. Right between her breasts the fur was snow white. Quickly he lowered his eyes and concentrated on the desk. A warmth rose in his cheeks. Kayla didn't take her eyes off the window as she casually asked, "So, do you like what you see?" The blood rushed up to his ears as he tried not to say the wrong thing. Fortunately, she did the talking. "Sammy, I read your file and I think you're cute. If you're uncomfortable with the whole thing I'm gonna go to the bathroom, change and keep it professional. Your call." He took a deep breath before answering. "Definitely not uncomfortable. I was just surprised, that's all." She broke away from the window. As she passed, her hand brushed over his shoulder. "I have a knack for figuring out what people are into. This won't be the last surprise for you today. Come on, I'll show you the rest." He got up and followed her into the kitchen, a small room across from the window. It was almost empty, but at least there was a refrigerator and a selection for coffee and tea. Walking through it brought one to the bathroom, which was about half the size of the kitchen.

Just as they were leaving the room, Sam felt a slight dizziness for a moment. Kayla furrowed her brow and walked over to the desk. He followed her, sat back in his chair, and before he knew it she had her feet in his lap. She had kicked her shoes under the table. Her T-shirt gave a view of her belly as she stretched her arms above her head. Sam wondered how far down the white coat went. She caught his gaze and let her heel brush the inside of his thigh. "This is what it feels like when 002 gets going," she explained, "You gotta have to keep body contact at all times when that happens." "Body contact," Sam repeated. He let his fingers slide over her ankle, up her leg and back to her foot. She stretched further forward. He stroked across the top of her foot, then along the side and across the sole. Her toes spread off as his fingers touched the paw pad. He traced the soft skin with his fingertips, letting them circle over the sole with gentle pressure, stroking down to her heel. In response, her toes found their way between his legs. Sam felt his erection growing. With careful pressure, her paw stroked along the outline of his member inside his pants.

Kayla grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Using her feet, she pulled his chair closer to her. She leaned forward and grabbed the buckle of his belt. Clattering, it fell to the floor. Her hand unzipped his pants and stroked through the fur just above his member. It worked its way under the waistband and with her index and middle fingers she stroked along his erection. With catlike grace she slid out of her chair and knelt on the floor in front of him. Her warm breath on his legs sent another wave of dizziness through his head. She released him from his pants and pressed her breasts against him. With both hands she reached for them and began to move up and down against him. Exhaling a sigh, Sam leaned back in his chair. The tingling sensation spread throughout his hips. He felt the muscle between his legs twitch as her broad tongue drove up his tip. When he tried to move, she grabbed his wrists and held him in the chair with gentle pressure. Her mouth enclosed his erection and her head slowly bobbed up and down. As her lips ran along the length, her breasts encircled the knot at the base of his dick. He tried to stifle his moan as she rolled her tongue around the head. His erection twitched against the roof of her mouth, warning her that he was about to come. She let her lips slide down.

Sam couldn't hold back any longer. His fingers dug into the arms of the chair and he came in her mouth. A low, deep moan made her throat vibrate. Eagerly she licked every drop from him as she pulled her head back. A plopping sound was heard as her mouth passed his knot. She rested her head on his legs and looked up at him from below. "You like that, don't you? Giving up control?" Embarrassed, Sam looked to the side. With a soft laugh, she dropped her forehead to his stomach. "You're really cute." Kayla pulled back in her own chair. He was about to get up, but she lifted her foot and pressed it against his chest. "That's a good fit Sammy. Because I like having control over cute guys like you." A sparkle had entered her eyes. It made his heart beat faster. "I'd like to do a lot more with you. All night long. Are you okay with that?" He nodded and murmured his agreement. The pressure against his chest increased. "Very well. In order not to overwhelm you, we'll do it like this: Green means everything's okay, yellow tells me you want to interrupt for a moment, and red means we stop immediately. Got it?" "Like a traffic light," he confirmed. With a smile, she ran her paw up his chest and sat it against his cheek. "That's right. So do I get a green light?" He stroked the back of her foot with his hand and nodded.

"Very good," she said. Her toes tapped against his face. " Now strip." She let him stand up and looked at him expectantly. Sam stepped out of his pants which hung around his legs, unbuttoned his shirt and slipped off his shoes. There he was, naked in front of her, his clothes on the floor. With a wave of her hand, she motioned for him to hand them to her. As he bent down, she put her feet on his back. His cock twitched between his legs. She pushed him down so that he had no option but to kneel in front of her. Taking her legs off him, a few seconds later her pants landed on the floor. "Hand it all over," she ordered. He handed her the clothes and she threw them on a table behind her.

With her foot, she lifted his chin. The white fur passed between her legs to her back. Her hand stroked his head before grabbing him by the scruff and pressing him into her crotch. She rubbed her pussy against his muzzle. He opened his mouth and let his tongue brush along the inside of her thighs. Her grip tightened as he kissed her groin and mound and lips. His tongue ran between them and he tasted salt and her sweetness. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the muscles in her legs tremble. The movements of her hips quickened and her breathing deepened. He continued just so, and softer sounds mingled with her moans. The tip of his tongue went up to her most sensitive spot and circled around it. With a low growl, she pressed his muzzle against her as the muscles in her legs spasmed and twitched.

"Not bad for a start," she said as she let go of him." But we're not done yet." With her foot, she pushed him off her. He let himself fall backward. A shiver ran through his body as his back touched the cold ground. With one paw still on his belly, she placed the other next to his face. Gradually increasing the pressure as she stood up. The husky woman made brief eye contact and he held her ankle.

A gasp escaped him as she stood up and squeezed the air out of him. After a few seconds, she shifted her weight to her other foot. " If you can't breathe, tap the floor twice." Before he could answer, she shifted her weight again. Her paw dug into his soft belly. Sam couldn't remember being this hard before. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lift her other paw off the ground and hold it over his face. She was now standing on him with her full weight. More than a shallow breath was barely possible. With her other paw she stroked his face and mouth, put her toes to his lips and pressed the paw pad to his mouth. Obediently, he opened it. The skin felt slightly rough, and at the same time incredibly soft. He ran his tongue between her toes, down her sole to her heel, and up again. While he felt every inch of her paw he could see out of the corner of his eye how her hands moved over her body, down her neck to her breasts, over her belly and hips and up between her legs.

She noticed his glance, and pressed her paw firmer on his face. With force, she turned his head to the side and leaned down to him, adding to the pressure on his belly. "Right now, you have only one thing to worry about, understood?" She whispered. He tried to nod. The pressure eased and he turned back to her paw, careful to keep his eyes fixed on her sole and toes.

With a snap of her fingers, she finally interrupted him. He paused, and she withdrew her foot. By now Sam felt dizzy and he didn't know if it was 002, her, or the lack of oxygen that was the cause. Kayla put her foot down on his chest. He reached for her ankles. His erection twitched against his belly. She looked straight ahead, pretending not to notice him underneath her. "I could use a little something," she said resting her hand on her chin. "The break room down the hall always has such good sandwiches." Her gaze drifted downward. "Would you get one for me? You'll get a treat, too."

When he nodded, she got off him. Sam took a deep breath, and for a moment bright spots danced before his eyes. She helped him up and only let go of his arm when she knew he was standing securely. He reached for his pants, which earned him a slap on the wrist. "Did I say you could get dressed?" Sam looked to her, confused. "You told me to get you a sandwich." "Right," she confirmed. His gaze moved from her to his pants and back again. "But..." She raised an eyebrow. "But? Are you going to argue?" Sam tried to swallow his heart back into his chest. "No, Miss Kayla." Her gaze softened. "Miss Kayla? I like it. Go on then, hurry up."

The husky lady lifted his pants and fished his security card and wallet out of his pocket. Contrary to his expectation, she gave him neither, but merely handed him some change and then opened the door for him. It slid open with a soft hiss and before he knew it he was standing naked in the bright white light of the hallway. It felt as if he was on display. Any second someone could have turned the corner. He overcame his excitement and walked as fast as he could with a hard-on. Sam opened the break room door slightly and found it, to his great relief, to be empty.

In here he felt even more exposed than out in the hallway. Not only was it cooler than with clothes, but feeling the floor under his bare paws was unusual. Every other second he threw a quick glance in the direction of the door. Just as he was concentrating on the keypad of the vending machine for a moment, he felt a slight breeze on his shoulder. Hectically he looked for a place to hide, but it was already too late. After a brief wave of panic he relaxed as black and white fur appeared.

Kayla was also completely naked, but she didn't seem to mind much. His eyes followed her curves along her belly to her chest and up to her very pretty face. She walked past him and bent over to take the sandwich from the dispenser. Her bushy tail stretched upward as she did so. She took a step back and pressed her rump against his boner. The tip of her tail tickled his nose. When she straightened up again, she grabbed him by the hand and led him over to one of the tables. "You've been very good today, Sammy," she murmured. The foil of the sandwich crackled as she tossed it aside along with his key card. "Sit down."

He did as instructed and before he knew it she straddled him. His blood rushed to his ears. He felt her moist warmth on his thigh, and the light touch of her fingers made him tremble. "Yellow," he whispered. "In here?" She slid forward. His member was right against her lips. "No one ever comes in here at night." She lifted her hips, reached for him and for a moment that seemed eternal, she stayed that way. He murmured an okay and finally she lowered her body. A whimper escaped him as he slid into her. He felt her hot breath against his face. She began to move, bracing herself against the back of the chair with both hands. Sam closed his eyes and put his head back. She felt heavenly. Kayla quickened her pace and a gasp escaped him. His hand traveled up over the soft belly fur to her breasts, and she pressed her body against him.

It was almost Impossible for him to move when all at once she stayed down, grinding only her hips back and forth. He felt every muscle in her tremble and could no longer hold back. His dick throbbed inside her and the warmth that surrounded him pulsated with it. Kayla let out a throaty moan. Her legs twitched against his. Even as the sensation subsided, she remained seated on top of him, stroking through his hair and gazing directly into his eyes. "That's a good boy," she murmured, and Sam was convinced he was no longer able to speak a coherent sentence.

He wasn't sure how long they had sat there together. It had to border on a miracle that no one had entered the room. At some point however, Kayla remarked that they couldn't miss the hourly check-in, and so the two of them ran naked through the hallway together one more time.

Dr. Eslam Salah rubbed his eyebrows with two fingers. The morning shift was definitely not the time for such things. The Foundation couldn't pay enough as he deserved in reparations for the damage to his psyche alone. He opened the drawer of his desk, pulled out the half-empty pack of painkillers for his migraines (he had opened it just two weeks ago), and turned the handle of his coffee cup toward him. The crackle of the package stabbed his ears as the pill landed in his hand. He tossed it in and washed it down with a big sip. Resting his head on one hand, he turned to his assistant, who stood in the doorway, his feathers all fluffed. "I apologize for my outburst," he grumbled. "Just to be sure, you had said that Mr. Farley was assigned to Ms. Richards?" "Y-yes," the young man stammered. "That's what the records said. I don't understand it either sir, but presumably..." He raised his hand and his assistant fell silent. "I can already guess who did this." He pressed a button on his phone, picked up the receiver and yelled into it. "Bright! My office, now!"

As always, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up just before Dr. Bright entered the room. Never before had there been anyone who was such an irresponsible, childish slob as Dr. Jack Bright. Unfortunately, said slob was both immortal and one of the Foundation's most valuable employees. He gathered all his composure and put on a professional smile. "Dr. Bright. Would you like to explain to me why 109-K has been given a level three security clearance, and why Mr. Farley, of all people, is working with her?" His colleague shrugged nonchalantly. "She passed the exam last year. After all, she's not the only anomalous person working for us. I thought the two of them would certainly be nice together."

"Nice?" Dr. Salah bit his cheek. "Nice. The personal lives of our staff are up to each person, of course, but I like to prevent situations that have the potential to compromise the professionalism of our facility." "Your rule, not mine," Bright grinned. "You should lighten up a bit Eslam. Have some fun. And let others have it, too."

The Jackal leaned forward and cocked his head to one side. "You know what, maybe you're right." He pressed a button on the intercom. "Fire in area 002 - B. Activate extinguishing system immediately." Then he turned back to Bright. "I will refrain from taking disciplinary action. For now. Maybe you should bring those two some towels."