Space Junk

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Space Junk

At the edge of space, a newly recruited deputy is on the verge of uncovering a crime ring in the junkyard. When he bites off more than he can chew, it appears that he just might be the newest product for the criminals to sell.

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Once again, thank you to everyone that made this possible!


Space Junk

Written by Leo_Todrius

Supported by my Patrons

The novelty of spaceflight had worn off. It had started, as many things do, with great reverence. Complex spacesuits had become ergonomic flight suits, then formal wear and eventually street clothes. That suited Sam fine - at least as long as the other passengers kept their shoes on. He floated near the back of the transport's cabin, long silky black hair brushing across the top of his strong shoulders. An ever changing rainbow of light cast through a metallic screen from one of the processing cores, casting pinpoints of light across his well tanned skin like flecks of prismatic dew, contrasting the faint dark fuzz he tried to call a mustache.

With no gravity to speak of, the man's utility boots floated a few inches off of the deck plating, the black denim covering his strong legs fluttering slightly while the black tank top hugged well developed pectorals and abdomen. A short sleeve black button up had been left open over that, emblazoned with a worn out emblem of Europa Sector Security. He could have been a man out of another time, although as one of the attendants floated toward him, rich russet brown eyes lifted appraisingly.

"ID chit." the attendant said with a monotone that hinted at a long tour of duty with little variation of responsibilities. A slight smile crossed Sam's lips. He knew what the attendants were expecting. Almost any passenger would be asking why their identity had to be checked again at the end of the flight after already boarding. The attendant probably had to field the question a half dozen times every trip. Sam just held out his arm, a geometric black tattoo wrapped around his wrist like a permanent bracelet. The intersecting angles and lines practically pointed to where the identity chit was implanted just below the skin.

"Ever been to Calo before?" Sam asked, his smile still lingering on his lips. The attendant was shaken from his routine enough to look up, pale blue eyes peeking out from the glare on his round glasses.

"Calliope? I've been as far as the port control. Never gone inside the junkyard before." he said, bringing his reader to the man's wrist. The screen filled with biographical information; Samoset Craze, age twenty eight. Formerly employed by ESS and currently on an independent contract. He'd been born on Luna before moving Earthside, an inverse from most. The attendant lowered the reader to his hip, his demeanor seeming to soften with Sam's refreshing reaction. As he processed the passenger's question, however, his brow furrowed a bit in concern, "Aren't you worried that it's full of mutts and digis?" he asked. Sam tried not to show a face at the use of the slang for de-gene-erates.

"What junkyard doesn't have a few dogs?" Sam shrugged. The attendant looked a little baffled at that but pushed off the wall with his hand, floating towards the next stray passenger that hadn't stayed in their seat. Sam looked up as the light changed from one of the windows. The swirling aurora of faster-than-light travel fell away, replaced instead by a static rust colored haze of interstellar dust at the edge of a nebula. Sam pushed off the metal grill and drifted over to the window, bracing one hand on either side.

While most transports emerged from FTL more or less aligned with their destination, a fact that precluded views for any passengers, the unusual alignment of the Junkyard made an oblique approach necessary. Sam watched with a curiosity sparkling in his eyes as he looked out and beheld the hub of activity sitting in the center of sprawling stretches of scrapped ship keels and debris radiating out in spiral arms, making it all look like a miniature galaxy. For every trade ship and worker bee, there were hundreds of remnants of ages past. It was a tempting target for pirates and opportunists both. That sort of mix made it a lucrative opportunity for Sam.

"Attention all passengers, please return to your seats and put on your safety harness. The transport will be passing through variable gravity fields and Ladex Transport is not liable for any injuries resulting from slip, trip or impact trauma. As a reminder, Calliope station is a class three genetic drift zone. Please observe all hygienic policies mandated by Calliope station control. Once again, thank you for flying Ladex Transport." a pre-recorded voice announced before repeating the message in a half dozen other languages.

Using hand hold after hand hold, Sam drew his body over the top of the seats, finding his original position before reluctantly pulling himself down. He pulled a thick strap over each shoulder and clicked it into a clasp in the front center of the seat, keeping himself in place. It was a bit of a drag given how fun it could be trying to adjust to shifting gravity, but he had to set a good example. What good was it going to be if some of the other passengers were citizens of the Junkyard and he was going to have to enforce the law? That faint, playful smile didn't leave Sam's lips even as the ship shuddered, switching over to automatic guidance as it slipped into one of the many landing bays that surrounded the outer edge of the station.

****

After a long trip on a faintly musky transport ship, Sam had been looking forward to stretching his legs and his lungs in Calo. He'd been shoulder to shoulder with other passengers leaving the port, but as they moved out of the illuminated archway and into the streets of the station, Sam had enough room to slow down and take it all in. The architecture was dated and cobbled together from several different styles but that eclectic amalgamation gave room for clusters of different food stalls, vendors and merchants. The air carried a savory spice of several different kinds of meats and Sam's stomach was growling in moments.

Sam drifted through the thinning crowd with a grace that belied his muscled body, allowing him to sidle up to one of the stalls. His mouth was watering as his rich brown eyes beheld kebabs, tenders, and even some bags of jerky. The shopkeeper was situating a rotisserie into the vertical stack of ovens, a hood drawn up over his head, although the fabric was sitting too high. Sam didn't want to interrupt such delicate work, but when the shopkeeper turned, the words fled his mouth.

"Somethin' catchin' your fancy?" The young voice asked, a slight drawl accompanied by a friendly smile. Pert lips, freckled cheeks, light brown eyes... and dog ears. They stood up beneath the hood, pointed forward, covered in fur. The shopkeeper had no human ears. The friendly smile strained a little the longer it took Sam to respond. Realizing the moment was about to cross into awkwardness, Sam gave a nod.

"Two of your best kebabs please." Sam said. The shopkeeper seemed appeased and moved to pull some off the display. Sam couldn't help but think of the flight attendant calling them mutts and digis. Nearly every human had some sort of augmentation to survive the rigors of space travel. The immune system had to cope with rampant radiation and magnetic fields, bones and muscles had to cope with varying gravity. It hadn't taken long for necessary medical alterations to bleed into elective ones and man's best friend had simply become man's best style. A chirp came from the register as Sam rested his wrist on the reader, letting it transfer funds from his ID Chit. A quick tap of his thumb against his ring finger applied a tip that showed up on the display. A bright grin bloomed across the shopkeeper's lips, revealing that his canine fangs were a good deal sharper than those of a human.

"Careful where you sling that cash, someone's liable to scoop you right up." the shopkeeper smirked good naturedly. Sam raised one of the kebabs.

"You keep cooking this well, someone might do the same to you." Sam said before giving the young man a wink as he turned. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a tail wagging behind the shopkeeper as he seemed to keep his eye on the stranger.

Sam walked along the corridor, bringing the kebab to his mouth. His lips closed around a portion as he drew the skewer out, trapping pieces of steak, onion, tomato and pepper inside. His eyes watered a little as the flavor filled his senses. It wasn't just that it was the first meat he'd had in months, it was the unusual blend of seasonings and spices. He'd been right to tip and he'd been right to flirt. As Sam looked around, he couldn't help but get a good vibe from this place. It didn't look like an easy place to live, but people made it work and they did so together. There was laughter, conversation, music. These were not people run down by bureaucracy or capitalism. It was exactly the sort of place that Sam wanted to be.

****

"Samoset Craze..." The deep, gravely voice said the name as if weighing it in his mouth, running his teeth over the syllables. Steel gray eyes with feline slit pupils scanned over the tablet before him, reading the human's file. Sam was reclined in the chair, his bare arms crossed over his chest, looking up at the relative bulk of the chief. The grizzled security veteran was tall and broad shouldered, his face framed by thick mutton chops that were silver and black. His silver hair was pulled back into a short ponytail high on the back of his head. Aside from his eyes and a little sharpness to his fingernails, he looked almost entirely human.

"Most of the guards called me Craze back on Europa." Sam smiled. The chief turned those steely gray eyes on him, looking at that ever present smirk and the faint fuzz on his upper lip. The corner of the chief's lips turned up ever so slightly.

"And if I have you as one of my deputies, am I going to have to replace you in a few months time?" he asked. Sam's smile only grew as he leaned back a little more.

"Depends. How often do you go through deputies?" he asked. The chief let out a small guffaw at that.

"You already know the pay scale and that housing's covered, plus anything you read up on the Junkyard on the way over. What isn't in the official docket is the atmosphere. This isn't a bad place to live. We rarely have out and out criminals, but the junkers pay us dearly to ensure that nothing goes walking away on our watch and everyone else wants to get a cut of the action. As long as you stay on the right side of the law, I don't care how you do it. You're a junkyard guard dog now. Don't go rabid." The chief said. Sam nodded, slowly sitting back upright before he paused.

"Just how does a cat become the head of the guard dogs anyway?" Sam asked. A silver eyebrow arched over those steely gray eyes.

"Cats have always been smarter than dogs..." the chief said as matter of fact, at least for a moment before some real concern started to slip through. "There was one thing that wasn't in your packet, and it may be more than you signed up for..." the chief said. Sam let go of his irreverence in respect for the moment, correcting his posture.

"Go on." he offered as a way of easing the chief's burden. The chief took a long breath before he moved back around the table and sat down, setting his hands out on the top of the desk, drumming his clawed fingers.

"We've made a few appeals with local authorities, even with some organizations that work across multiple systems. As quiet and backwater as Calo is, there's something simmering." The chief said more gently. Sam's dark eyebrow arched.

"Criminal conspiracy? Organized crime?" he asked. The chief shrugged a little, reaching up to scratch at one of his mutton chops.

"Trafficking.... We're not sure what for exactly. I'm sure you've heard that the Junkyard's one of the higher populations of augmented folks. It makes us seem like an undesirable population to those that prefer a more pure genepool, but regardless of what makes up my people, they're going missing. That alone is concerning, but most of the ones that have gone missing were reported with unusual behavior ahead of time." The chief said. Samoset was giving him his full attention now.

"Space madness? Drugs?" he asked. The chief shook his head.

"The behavior was more... solicitous, promiscuous. It affected all sorts, from the alley urchins to a pastor's son. They went a bit wild and then they disappeared." The chief explained. Samoset leaned back slowly, taking it all in.

"That's serious stuff, and I can see why you didn't put it in the packet, but... why me? I was just a low level drudge back at Europa." Sam explained. The chief seemed to blush a little, bringing color to his otherwise pale features.

"All of the afflicted have been mutts, and whatever it is seems to..." The chief paused, as if seeking the word, "Enhance their augmentations. I thought it might be good to get someone who wouldn't be affected, to keep an objective perspective." The chief said. Sam nodded, wrestling with it all. Suddenly the idea of stopping petty thieves and pickpockets seemed a bit trivial. The chief filled his chest with breath.

"And if you don't want to take on such a heavy mantle, I understand. It was unfair to spring this on you and-"

"No, it's work that needs doin'." Sam said, "Good, decent work for good decent people. I need to orient myself a little, I'm on unfamiliar turf. Quarters, provisions, whatever sort of armory you have here, and the case files." Sam said. The chief smiled softly and nodded, grabbing a tablet to start loading the relevant information. As he worked, It was hard to describe all the ingredients that made up the cocktail of his anticipation. Some hated when there was nothing to do and others thrived on it, some sought out higher purpose and others wanted to punch a clock. Sam wasn't sure exactly where he fell on that spectrum, but the idea of people being taken wasn't okay in any books. He was going to do whatever he could to help.

****

While there was no such thing as night on Calo, the station did its best to compensate. There were few windows to the outside, but what few there were, were polarized and dimmed, turning a bright orange glow into a soft and dull one. The interior lights dimmed, though sectional lights remained as a deterrent to crime. A day and night cycle kept the citizens sane, helping orient their biological clocks, but just as on Earth there were some jobs that needed doing all hours and so there were still people moving to and fro in the streets.

Samoset threw his shirt over the back of his chair, grabbing a glass of water from the refresher. He walked barefoot out onto the balcony of his modest apartment and looked out onto the street below. There were a few hoverbikes floating outside of the bar, a few scrappers walking back home after a long shift. There were even planter boxes full of ferns and other leafy plants swaying in a faint artificial breeze. The coolness of it brought goose bumps up on Sam's arms. He looked down, seeing his exposed skin and the geometric tattoos on his right arm. The wrist was the most apparent, but interlocking lines with angular gaps climbed up the length before blossoming out across his shoulder into a geometric picture of a solar fan shape with angular spikes. It had hurt like hell, but it had been a badge of honor at the same time.

The deputy took a sip of the water before he lifted the tablet up, bringing up the case files. There were instances of a dozen different young men that had exhibited unusual behavior and then gone missing shortly after. It was circumstantial at best, and at worst it lacked any solid corroborating evidence aside from the fact that they had all been mutts. Sam leaned on the balcony edge, looking down at the street, at the bar, then back up the street where he'd gotten the killer kebabs from. He felt the gears of his mind trying to work.

"Sinner or saint, there's only one watering hole..." Sam murmured to himself. Looking back at the tablet again, he took one last scroll through the files before he locked it with his thumbprint and made his way back into the bathroom. The light flickered on as he tapped it with the heel of his hand, already opening up the travel case he'd brought. Sam ran his tongue over his bottom lip before he reached in and pulled out two pairs of copper colored earrings. He situated them up over his lower lobes, the rings extending through the holes when they found their target. He rifled through a lower tray and pulled out a cuff to slide up over the back right side. Looking at himself on one side and the other, Sam tried to decide what would look the least like a deputy. He hadn't had much of a chance to imprint on anyone that he was law yet and this just might be his only opportunity to go undercover.

****

Music spilled out of the Rusty Chain, bringing a little livelihood to an otherwise dead night. Bars always seemed to be dark during the day and bright at night, offering that counter culture atmosphere to those that wanted to deviate from the norm. There was a little bit of smoke in the air as well as the tang of cheap spirits. It was the sort of aroma that made Sam feel a sheen of sweat on his skin as soon as he walked in, although part of that could have been from his outfit. Ankle high black boots with thick tread gripped the floor easily, almost blending into the synthetic pants he wore that formed along his legs and accentuated his ass, though three heavy chains hung down on his right hip. He'd gone for a black vest that showed off his muscular arms and he'd styled his hair to be a bit wilder, fuller, and even appear a bit longer. Despite its volume, the piercings and tattoos were easily visible, even as he moved to take a seat at the bar.

Sam caught a few sets of eyes looking his way; some with apprehension, a few with intrigue... that was fairly normal for a bar, but when Sam looked at the bartender, he sensed that same apprehension there too. Now that was unusual. He might have chalked it up to being human, but there were a few others that looked at least outwardly human, enough that no one could judge just by looking at him in particular. Sam put on his most friendly smile, looking up at the bartender.

"Can I have a pitcher of your best beer?" Sam asked. The bartender moved up, looking only a few years older than Sam himself. He had two white furry ears, though one had a piece missing out of it. Icy blue vertical slit eyes regarded him coolly.

"Fresh out." The bartender said. Sam ever so slightly let the edge of his teeth brush the inside of his bottom lip.

"Alright, whisky?" Sam asked. The bartender shook his head.

"Held up in customs, I'm afraid," he replied. Sam was about to open his mouth to make another wisecrack when he heard a loud, awkward thump through the wall of the bar. The sound elicited something other than surprise from the bartender, a knowing tightening of his muscles visible beneath his Hawaiian print shirt.

"Maybe I'll just use the restroom instead." Samoset said. The bartender slowly extended claws from his fingertips.

"That's for paying customers only," he said.

"Listen, buddy, I've been trying to be a paying customer. You just haven't done a very good job at helping me out..." Sam shrugged, "Besides, the big guy said this was where I was supposed to go for some good merchandise. I'm fresh in the market and I've come all this way... But I guess I could tell him that he's wrong about the sort of business you're running." Sam shrugged. The bartender's eyes went wide, but even more than that his tail seemed to puff up behind him.

"You know the big guy?" he asked. Sam put on his best offended look.

"Know him? I think he'd be a bit perturbed if you tried to sum up our association in such small terms. Still, I guess that's just what I'll have to do when I see him again." Sam said, standing up to leave.

"W-wait, I didn't know... that you were such a sophisticated clientele." The bartender said, racing out to rest his hand on the back of Sam's hand. Sam could feel the feline bartender's pulse racing through his paw pads.

"Maybe it's not too late to make a deal after all." Sam shrugged, "Besides, I still don't know if you even have what I want." Sam said softly. The bartender shrugged a little.

"While the stock on hand is limited, I'm sure we could find you exactly what you want most." The bartender said, "But I must insist, we do have an ID check policy." the bartender said with a small predatory smile. Sam took his rich brown eyes and looked right into the bartender's.

"This is a reputable drinking establishment of course." Sam said without revealing a trace of concern, bringing his left wrist over to rest on the reader. Unlike his right wrist, this one was unmarked and untattooed. The reader found an ID Chit and brought up a biographic file, though it was not Samoset's. It was Boone Quintan. A few mild alerts came up for previous infractions including a few misdemeanors. The bartender seemed almost relieved at what he saw and gave a snap of his fingers. Two of the individuals playing pool stood up and moved over to open the bathroom door.

Samoset gave the bartender a bow of his head and did whatever he could to try and make all of this appear normal. He'd taken a relatively big gamble and one jailbroken and overclocked ID chit implant had done its duty in giving him a convincing cover. As he walked into the bathroom flanked by two dog boys, he was fairly certain the chief wasn't going to be too proud of his initiative. Still, this was his chance to make a dent in the case - assuming it was even related. He'd use his anonymity to get intel that they could act on. Maybe he'd even lay low for a while and...

"Oh fuck, yes, YES!" The moan came from Sam's right, seeing a blond doubled over a toilet stall being railed by one of the burly scrappers. The next stall over he saw a lithe, gangly young man with foggy glasses with his head lolled back as a young man on his hands and knees with a thick dark fro sucked the nerd off with lewd and wet noises. The air smelled musky and salty, of sex and semen, and it was potent. It felt so wrong, but at the same time there was a mild electric thrill somewhere deep in the primitive part of Samoset's mind.

The two walking with Sam had walked him as far as the last stall.

"This one's not fully broken in yet. He needs another treatment, maybe two before he's ready." One of them commented. Sam gave a nod of his head as if he knew what that meant. The other pushed the stall open. Just inside, hands bound by some kind of cloth, was an eighteen or nineteen year old young man. His hair was a rich strawberry blond that verged on the edge of orange. He had a short warrior's knot at the back of his head and longer bangs coming down in front of pointed ears. His pale cheeks were flecked with freckles and his eyes were a rich honey gold. There was a faint patch of fuzz on the point of his chin.

Shapely shoulders, a lithe torso that was smooth from his collarbone down to his navel. His hips had a bit of a curve, his ass cheeks were full and round, and... where Sam would have expected a normal human manhood, instead there was a plump, swollen, orange fur colored sheath. It protruded above tennis ball sized balls and fit legs. While mostly human, the young man's feet were tipped with claws. He was near human, but just exotic enough to stand out. He looked up at the new arrival with a moment of apathy, but when he caught Sam's eyes, true confusion started to cross his eyes.

"What do you think?" one of his escorts asked.

"If he's not fluffy enough for you, we have others that-" the second escort was cut off.

"I promise you, I can make you feel a lot better than any of those other boys can." the redhead said with a determination that belied his confinement. He looked directly into Samoset's eyes.

"Even without getting your last treatment?" Sam asked, fishing for more information while trying to bluff his way through.

"I mean, if you want a mindless bitch in heat, that's your prerogative, but I think you strike me as the sort of person that wants a bit more in their playmate." the redhead demurred. Sam tried to stay on mission, although he thought back to those others he'd seen. Had they been reduced to merely men in heat, brainless and focused only on sex? That fit the MO, that would certainly be a reason to-

"Well? You want him or not?" one of the escorts asked impatiently. Sam put on his best indignant expression, looking back at them with every ounce of offense he could muster.

"You want me to make a purchase without inspecting the merchandise?" he asked, looking at him with his best glare. The escort held up his hands in apology. Sam moved forward and reached out, wishing he could apologize to the young man before he gently cupped his hand under his furry sheathe. The fur was as soft as silk and the flesh beneath was dense and heavy. As if responding to the body heat, there was a wet and slick sound as a pointed, tapered, red canine cock began slithering out of the furry protection. It was full, long, hard, and glistening. Sam hadn't expected such a sudden reaction and he had to keep himself from letting go as the tip slid across his forearm, leaving a slimy trail.

A tingling began to spread where the precum had touched his skin like fresh mint. It took only another moment for Sam's head to start spinning. The faint sweat that had built up on his skin began to increase, growing particularly strong under his arms and around his groin. His heart started to thump in his chest as his mouth watered and his manhood began to stiffen rapidly and insistently. He pulled his hand away instinctively, breathing harder. When he looked up, the young man restrained before him saw a tinge of yellow tainting Samoset's eyes for a moment before it faded back to normal.

"Well?" The escort asked.

"How much?" Sam asked, trying to hold it together.

"For a demonstration, or to keep?" the other asked.

"I don't like the idea of other people playing with my toys. How much to keep?" he asked. The two seemed to confer quietly among one another before the first stood straight up.

"Why don't you finish your examination. I'll run it by Clinker. Ace will be just outside if you need him." The escort said as a thinly veiled threat. The two excused themselves, one moving just a few paces back while the other left entirely. Waiting just long enough for the escorts to be far enough away, Samoset started reaching for the restraints keeping the young man in place. The redhead watched Samoset with surprise.

"Don't you want me?" he asked. Samoset looked surprised at that.

"Don't you want out of here?" Sam asked. The redhead grew confused, torn between his impulses and what remained of his past life. Sam decided to give him an easier path forward. "What's your name?" Sam asked.

"Rusty." The other replied softly. Sam nodded.

"I'm here to save you, Rusty. You and the others, I just have to figure out how to get you out of here safely." he said, straightening back up.

"But you're like me..." Rusty said, looking at Sam with a fond need. Sam gave a bashful smile.

"I think you're a bit confused, kid. No tail on me. Are those bruisers like guards, or do you only see them when they want to show of-" Sam's question was interrupted as lips pressed against his, and then a tongue plunged deep into his mouth. Rusty wrapped his hands around Sam's waist, lowering claw tipped hands down lower to start massaging and kneading his ass cheeks. As he pressed forward, that plump sheath found its way under Sam's shirt, rubbing up and down along his navel until the tip of a canine cock emerged. As it began to leave a trail of precum, Sam felt his skin flush again. His ears burned, particularly the tips. His teeth felt hot, his fingernails burned, and his pants quickly tented with a raging erection. Sam knew he should pull back, to restrain himself, to focus on the mission, but he started to kiss Rusty harder, tilting his head to deepen it. He wrapped an arm around the young man, feeling his upper lip tingle as his mustache darkened and thickened.

"I see you're quite pleased with this one..." The bartender's voice came, "Though I must insist you limit yourself to a taste test before we agree on a price." he murmured. As Samoset broke the kiss, he panted hard, hot breath passing over elongated canine teeth. He blinked amber eyes, dark stubble starting to bristle his lips. A quirk of giddy anticipation crossed Clinker's lips before he reached into his pocket, withdrew a device and applied it to Sam's neck. The deputy cringed as an electrical current passed through his body, making his muscles seize tight before he collapsed in a heap to the ground. Ace swept up behind Clinker, eyes wide.

"I don't think he'll pay you after that...." The escort murmured. The bartender chuckled.

"I think 'the big guy' will be more than happy to pay me when I give him this gift." Clinker murmured.

****

Consciousness did not return to Sam easily. It swirled in eddies and whirlpools of pain and discomfort until, finally, his russet brown eyes opened. Salmon pink and rusty orange light spilled in through hexagonal transparent panels showing the nebula outside, casting across a vast and literal junkyard like an eternal sunset. Heaps and piles of broken and deconstructed speeders, fighters, shuttles and worker bees created a flowing landscape resting on a layer of silver sand-like grit. Sam's eyes drifted across the landscape before settling on someone that truly must have been 'the big guy' he had used as a bluff.

The iridescent light shimmered off of reptilian scales in shades of blue, green and turquoise. Two black horns were distinctly matte against the gloss of the scales and a long, extended jaw ended with two bony points. Interlocking sharp teeth seemed half hidden behind a prideful smirk and moss green eyes with vertical slits regarded the captive human. His shoulders were quite broad, his arms thick and his legs like pillars. As exotic as the reptile's physiology was, he was dressed in a silver suit with a black button up underneath, the glint of an expensive chrono on his wrist and designer shoes that seemed entirely out of place in a junkyard. Adding to the discordance was the fact that the man was flanked by two of his pups - the red head Samoset had been interacting with and the pup with the afro.

"Samoset Craze... Not an easy name to come by. There were quite a few layers between that and Boone Quintan. If it hadn't been for a chop shop you broke up on Khonsu, I don't think we would have been able to make the connection." The man announced with his sinewy voice. Despite his waning lethargy, Sam's trademark grin crossed his lips.

"You're Lore? Really?" Sam asked incredulously, "A sex ring seems a bit beneath you, but I guess you still feel at home around all this junk." Sam said. The draconic male exhaled through his sharp teeth.

"I'm not sure you're one to talk, deputy. Do the authorities know you're walking around with an illegal chip mod? If they do, you must have kept your recessive canine gene to yourself." Lore said. When Sam's grin faltered, the dragon only gave a low chuckle, "Oh, you didn't even know yourself? That is rich..." he smirked. "I suppose it isn't unheard of. It was one of the first guardian genes created for life in space, and it is the reason there are so many mutts out there."

"This seems like a lot of effort to go to in order to kill me." Sam said, looking down at his restraints to realize his shirt had been torn open and his belt and shoes were gone.

"I'm not going to kill you, Craze. I'm a businessman." Lore grinned, "I have several mutts to choose from here, but they're all... what would you call them? Betas? I need a display model, an Alpha. Your reaction back there was quite telling. All it takes is a little exposure to wake up the mutt in you... and then a little conditioning to make sure you enjoy your new life as an Alpha." The dragon said before snapping his clawed fingers.

Sam watched apprehensively as Rusty and the other pup approached him, bare feet padding through the sand-like grit that covered the junkyard. Something looked different about Rusty. His eyes were darker, glassier. As he approached Sam, his red tail began to swing back and forth eagerly. His nipples were pert and erect, his canine teeth sharper, and his sheath was plump and full. He carried what appeared to be goggles of some sort in his hand, but it was the other male that crouched down before him. The fur on his sheath was midnight black, just like his afro. He had a mustache and chin fuzz, his eyes a honey gold coloration. As he got close, Sam could smell an exotic spice of sex and sweat with just a tang of ammonia to it. His carob colored toes were tipped by black claws.

"Do you remember your name?" Sam asked, trying to wake up whatever humanity was left in this pup. The other male grinned, revealing his own fangs.

"Rex." he said before he reached down, using a clawed thumb to slice the button off of Sam's pants before he dragged the zipper down. Much as Sam had fondled Rusty, Rex was reaching in to pull out the deputy's manhood. He gave it a few strokes to coax it a little fuller before he eased his hips closer. Sam wasn't sure what was going on at first until he suddenly gasped, feeling a hot, wet, tight embrace squeezing around his cock. He looked down to see his shaft sliding into Rex's fat, furry sheath. Inch by inch, Rex took it in until his fleshy sleeve covered both of them. Sam could feel his own cock pinned against Rex's animal anatomy. Rex began to grind and gyrate and in moments the wetness of the sheath began to increase until a steady flow of clear gel began to dribble out across Sam's lap, running down over his balls before dripping onto the grit below.

Sam panted harder and harder, feeling his cock tingle and throb, growing harder and tighter and fuller and longer in moments. Every second sent ripples and waves of lust outward. Some of it pooled in his balls where it seemed to be taking root as well, but it was ripping through the rest of his body as well. His teeth felt hot again, his ears burning, his nipples stiffening. Rex grinned brightly at the reaction and leaned in to lick Sam's chin. Where he licked, new stubble erupted and began to thicken. Rex nuzzled Sam and then kissed him more fully before pulling back reluctantly. Sam was about to ask a question when he felt something being pulled down over his head, pinning his hair to his skull. He saw the dark lenses of the goggles coming over his eyes just before Rusty let go, letting them snap into place.

"You can't do this, Lore! I'm part of law enforcement!" Sam called out. Lore grinned wickedly.

"Yes, and soon you'll be able to be part of the canine unit." he said before he reached one clawed finger over and tapped the display screen on his chrono. The goggles illuminated with complex technorganic code, sending signals directly into Sam's mind.

The first few commands instructed his brain to keep his eyelids open, allowing the receipt of more signals. The flurry of images were complex and intricate, the end result of a hundred year's worth of research. The organic code worked to awaken dormant animal instincts and to feed in specific modern commands in a sympathetic tandem. Sam felt pieces of himself being shattered and broken while other aspects were built up and enhanced. Etiquette and decorum were gone. Social graces, respect for boundaries, modesty and humility were obliterated. The mental images were intense, but he felt Rex starting to grind their members together inside the sheath as two pairs of lips began to kiss and suck and nibble on either side of his neck at the same time.

Moans began to escape Sam's mouth as he panted, drool running down from the corner as his canine teeth continued to elongate and sharpen further. The assault on his mind continued, digging deeper. Specific memories began to gleam and burn in his synapses; moments of personal pride for his body, indulgences in masturbation, and the few times he bedded someone else. His college years became an inferno as he saw himself conquering dozens of other males, and then later in life all the missed opportunities became painful regrets. As bright as those pinpoints were, they began to sink into a glowing sea of baser needs; to fight, to fuck, to bite and hump.

"Do it..." Lore commanded, his sinewy voice lower and definitive. Rex whimpered slightly as he drew back, his sheath sliding off a very changed, very much larger male member extending from Samoset's groin. It was red and hard, the mushroom shaped tip slowly stretching into a point. The recess beneath the head was all but gone as the shaft expanded. Veins throbbed and the base looked puffy - though not quite as puffy as the folds of flesh forming just behind his cock as new, velvety black fur started to grow out on the start of his own sheath. Likewise, his balls had grown downy and fuzzy as they gained a new coating .

Rex murmured, no longer having to hold back himself. His own dog dick slipped out of his sheath, glistening in the pink light of the nebula. He reached down, curling his fingers around it, stroking it as he resumed kissing and nibbling Samoset's neck. Within just a few moments of play, his precum began to spurt and spray across the deputy's exposed chest. As the liquid hit and ran down, Sam's chest began to swell a little, expanding. The scent of raw sex hit his nose, making his nostrils flare and his breathing increase. His ears stretched to points and his face began to darken faster as his stubble thickened.

Not wanting to be left out, Rusty whimpered and moaned with his own need. He crouched down and began to rub his sheath against Sam's, encouraging his own puppy prick to emerge and rub against the other man's. Sam was already longer and thicker than Rusty, but being encouraged by his companion it seemed to surge larger at an accelerated pace. Rusty reached down, jerking off rapidly at his master's command until his precum began to spray and dribble over Sam's. Sam let out a whine that was almost a howl. Exposure to Rusty's juices had an even stronger reaction, sending out waves of change.

Sam's cock bloated, turning a bright red as the skin took on a stronger, leathery texture. The head warped into a pepper like shape and the base of the shaft swelled outward, taking on the shape of two half-spheres. The billowing furry sheath at the base continued to fill out, though it remained retracted. Sam's toes curled as his balls swelled to the size of tangerines, then oranges, then swelled even larger. The black fur thickened on them, full and luxurious.

"That's the power of a beta..." Lore murmured, "The power to awaken the Alpha dog." he said, reaching up to rub one of the points on his elongated muzzle, "Feed your man, Rusty." Lore commanded. Rusty slowly and obediently stood up, his canine phallus wobbling before him. He stepped forward and brought the tip of his cock to Samoset's lips. As it touched them, a blossoming flavor of sex and heat bore its way into the deputy's brain. His lips parted and he leaned forward, starting to suck vigorously. His tongue lashed against the sensitive flesh, but even more, the pressure of his sucking ramped up rapidly. It didn't take much for Rusty to moan and then howl, tipping his head back as he started to cum... but it wasn't just one volley or two or three. He was a pup manipulated and warped specifically for sex. He continued to cum constantly, sending his tainted dog seed down Samoset's throat.

The deputy's mouth filled with that salty, oddly sweet brine. It coated his tongue, his fangs, his teeth. He let it engulf his mouth until he could hold no more and then he swallowed it with a gulp, then another. It coated his throat and collected in his stomach. Beneath the onslaught of the goggles, his eyes burned a rich and fiery amber color. His ears took on definitive points, but most of all his face erupted with the growth of a thick black beard unbidden. Curls and coils of bushy black hair unspooled from thousands of follicles, darkening his cheeks and jawline, descending outward and down. As it grew, however, the pigment along his chin began to fade away. Black turned to silver and then almost white, creating a stripe that descended from his chin in distinguishment. His mustache curved over his upper lip, tickling Rusty's cock like a curtain.

Rusty writhed and shivered, but he forced himself to watch. The smiling deputy had become a moaning alpha male. His pectorals filled out, his abdomen firmed, and his cock... his cock was huge! Rusty had never seen one so big on another male, and it was still growing! It had to be at least thirteen inches long, if not more... It towered over his furry black balls, the knot already formed. Rusty was awed and amazed by it, wanting to claim it, but he knew that his bitch seed was turning this man into the ultimate male - and he wanted to give him more. Reaching up, Rusty began to pinch and tug on his nipple, increasing the flow of his cursed cum.

The straps behind Sam began to strain and stretch, pulling tight against the old landspeeder keel he'd been anchored against. He tugged harder and harder, still guzzling down Rusty's seed like an overpowered protein shake. Feeling the pressure at the end of his fingertips, Sam gave in and flexed them, letting the fingernails stretch out into claws that darkened from ivory to brown and then black. He used the newly honed tips to begin sawing back and forth against the straps, cutting through layer after layer of the fibers until, at last, it snapped.

Lore grunted as he saw Rex and Rusty fall back, sending up a cloud of the sand around them. The deputy sprung up to his newly warping feet, hearing bones and ligaments popping and crunching as his toes developed claws and his leathery soles grew paw pads. The escaped captive stood there, newly hairy chest heaving, his brilliant black beard with its white stripe glistening. He reached up and pulled the goggles off from his head, throwing them aside, amber eyes looking around. Spotting Rusty, he sniffed at the air before he charged, grabbing the redhead by the hip before flipping him onto all fours.

Rusty gasped as he landed, then his eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he felt the huge, pointed dog dick suddenly spear into his ass. He clawed and pawed at the ground, grabbing for any hold he could. Finding a piece of hull plating, he braced against that as Sam began to thrust wildly into his ass. Forward and back, forward and back, he moaned and groaned in bliss, his own cock swinging to slap audibly against his belly. Sam looked delighted to be letting out his rutting instincts, but he sniffed the air, eyes still wild as they settled on Rex.

"Come here, pup... Daddy wants to eat your ass out..." Sam growled commandingly. Rex grinned ear to ear as he approached, his own cock still dripping to the ground. He carefully and languidly stretched a long leg over Rusty's shoulders, coming down to rest his groin against the small of his partner's back. Angling himself over Rusty and bracing against a different piece of debris, Samoset had the best doggy double decker he could have imagined. With his dick still pistoning in and out of Rusty's ass, he reached one hand up to squeeze one of Rex's plump globes, feeling how meaty the cheek was before he suddenly buried his bearded face between them.

"Fuck!" Rex moaned out as a long, thick, powerful tongue suddenly penetrated his puffy sphincter, sliding back and forth with surprising grace. It wriggled and twisted, exploring in every direction it could reach. Rex began to hump Rusty's back, eyes glazed over with lust, body writhing and grinding against the fair, fit body beneath him. Sam's body made every lewd sound possible as he plap-plap-plapped against Rusty's ass while he slurped out Rex's. Every movement was a confirmation of the beast he'd become, from his claws to his ears to the fangs and elongated tongue. His long black hair was soaked with sweat and his body glistened with strength.

A forked tongue escaped from lore's muzzle as he tasted the air, picking up notes of the salt and musk pouring off the three. Everything had turned out better than he could have possibly imagined. He had a prize Alpha he could sell - at least once he'd witnessed enough of their debauchery for his own pleasure. In fact, it had worked out so well that it hinted at an entirely new avenue of business. Some discreet DNA checks and he could uncover a portion of the population that he could galvanize with just a little bit of exposure to his betas. Lore was nearly euphoric with the possibilities when he heard the telltale click of a gun's safety being released just prior to the barrel pressing against the back of his neck. Lore's mouth tightened, scaled lips sliding down over his sharp teeth.

"Chief Faraday..." Lore murmured. The grizzled feline behind him gave a half-smirk.

"I think you got caught up a bit too much in your handiwork. You owe me a deputy." The chief said. Lore started to move to straighten his cuffs until Faraday pressed the gun tighter against the back of his neck. The criminal exhaled a sigh.

"You're welcome to him if it means we can avoid the unnecessary paperwork. I'm sure he could act as some sort of mascot." Lore said, his ridged brow furrowing, "He only had the one meeting with you, didn't he? You couldn't have possibly arranged all this in that short amount of time." Lore said. This time Faraday smiled the rest of the way, getting out his cuffs. He took one of the dragon's hands and then the other, bringing them together.

"Cats have a sense for aloof spirits. I had a feeling he'd spring to action, I just had to keep an eye on him." Faraday said, activating the cuffs. They illuminated with a potent blue energy that would discharge if Lore tried anything.

"Such a shame..." Lore sighed, "Such a fine specimen. Think of all the pups he could have brought into the fold. Maybe he still will when my lawyers bury you." Lore commented. Faraday just shook his head.

"I guess we'll just have to take our chances..." The chief said, looking over at the beast his deputy had become. He weighed the options before he started walking Lore back to the squad car. He'd just have to come back and pick Samoset up when he was finished. The two crunched their way through the sandy grit and moved around the corner, leaving the three dog dicked sluts on their own.

While Sam hadn't grown any less focused, he had gotten sloppier. His thrusts were uneven and ragged, the friction increasing as his knot had a harder and harder time coming back out of Rusty's ass. After one particularly good thrust it wedged in so well he couldn't get it back out. Surprised intellectually but not instinctively, Sam switched to grinding instead. His tongue stretched to impossible lengths inside Rex's ass, striking sensitive portions of his colon before Rex howled out with bliss. His thick, dark red dog dick began to spray thick yellowed canine cum all over Rusty's back. The thick jizz ran down over where Sam's knot locked Rusty's anus, marinating both.

Smelling and feeling so much potent sex, Sam threw his head back and let out a reverberating howl. His black and white beard surged another inch and a half as he began to cum, the last of his human seed quickly spent before thicker, stickier yellowed semen began to pump into Rusty's gut. Rusty shivered with bliss as he began to cum as well, feeling well and completely satisfied. His own knot wobbled at the base of his cock as it unleashed his stream into the dust below. It took over a minute for the three to shed all of their dog dew, but as their cocks eventually ran dry the trio settled into a tangled heap of flesh and afterglow. They nuzzled and rubbed, eyes closed, hearts racing, feeling the comforting blanket of fulfilling a biological imperative.

****

The support of Sam's previously unused mattress remained unfamiliar beneath his body as an orange glow spilled out of both the goggles on his face and the geometric tattoos on his right arm. His hand rested on a sophisticated bio-encoder with several cables running through a secondary processor on the nightstand before plugging into the goggles that had been seized from the junkyard. The process had been running for nearly two hours when a grinding chitter came from the processor inside the bio encoder and the goggles snapped off. The glow coming from Samoset's tattoos slowly crept their way down from his shoulder, ending with where his wrist rested on the bio reader. Faraday reached up and slowly removed the goggles from his deputy. Sam blinked a few times, his eyes still a rich amber color.

"What happened?" He asked, his voice a little hoarse. Faraday made a contemplative grunt.

"You cracked the case, though we almost lost you." The chief said. Sam raised a hand to rub at his forehead but stopped with it half way up, looking at his black claws, then the thick beard resting on his chest. An eyebrow arched as it all came rushing back to him.

"Rusty..." he whispered. Faraday made another noise.

"Our med techs were able to reverse some of the invasive programming. You're all going to remember who you are, but..." Faraday trailed off. Despite himself, Sam started to grin, a stirring coming from beneath the covers that were draped across his groin.

"But we're still bonded." he whispered. Faraday nodded.

"I hope you're okay with larger relationships than most humans, I don't think those boys are leaving you anytime soon." Faraday mused. Sam licked his bottom lip a little with excitement before he shook his head and pushed himself upright. His long hair spilled over his bare shoulders as he looked up at the chief.

"If I can... rebalance myself, at least some, do you still have room on the force for me?" he asked. Faraday stood there a moment, reaching up to scratch at one of his thick mutton chops.

"I tell you what... You promise you won't do any end runs around me and fling yourself into danger without a heads up and I'll consider it. For now though, you have some recovery to attend to. And I've got to get this kit back to the med techs so we can help the others Lore corrupted." Faraday said, bundling up the bio reader and the secondary processor before dumping them into a suitcase. He zipped it up and carried it out of the room. Samoset watched him for a moment, half tempted to walk him out. Instead, he slowly slipped his legs out from under the covers and pivoted to bring his feet down to the floor.

As Sam stood up and stretched, he couldn't help but yawn as his back arched. Thick pecs bounced before him, his beard reaching all the way down to his sternum. The covers slipped away, revealing a huge, plump, fat black furry sheath and the tip of an alpha's dog dick. Samoset remembered who he was, what he had come here to do, but he could still feel that urge. He imagined just what it would have been like to fuck all of Lore's pups, to make them all his bitches... Wet, sloppy, wild feral sex and he'd be the king. His nipples hardened and inch after inch of dog dick slipped out of his sheath. He reached for it, his fingers almost reaching the shaft when he heard a rap on the door frame. Turning, he saw Rex's beautiful carob skin lit by morning light, his afro taking up most of the doorway. Rusty ducked under his arm, his eyes eager and hungry.

"Can we help you with that?" he asked hopefully, tail wagging behind his ass cheeks. Sam all but growled.

"I think I could use some junkyard dogs to help with this old space junk..." Sam grinned, "Who is hungry?" he asked. Rex and Rusty nearly bowled each other over, both scrambling for their alpha's affection. Sam might have had his mind back to himself after his brush with Lore, but he was still thinking with his dick.