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There are two sides to every coin. A Yin for every Yang. What happens when two opposites collide? Selected lyrics from NIN's Hurt are used without permission. Naughty Zoot. Evil Zoot. Thou has Taunted HappyFunBall(tm)!!!

The FLIR Conspiracy

Chapter I - Tails

2007 by Eldyran

Kelvin shot up in his computer chair, and for a horrifying moment, thought he was someone else.

It took him a moment to realize that nothing had changed in the noisy squalor of his two room efficiency, and that whatever vertigo he now experienced had either been a bad dream, or a just another burned trip. The albino coyote's pink eyes blinked in the harsh florescence of his living room and homemade laboratory, his dilated pupils dancing in the glazed sockets of his skull. His body, which felt as if its perceptions were beamed via microwave antennas, throbbed with a poison still coursing through his veins.

Piles of ripped garbage bags had piled in a corner, left there now for weeks now. Stacks of grease stained pizza boxes lined one wall, their half eaten contents molding away to putrid rot. The stench of unwashed canid and festering living conditions overpowered the room, overlaid with the thick musk of copious coyote spunk. Kelvin's computer speakers, which had previously screamed their contempt for him, suddenly whispered instead.

_I hurt myself today

To see if I still feel

I focus on the pain

The only thing that's real_

After a few minutes of taking inventory of his limited existence, his scummy apartment, he realized that nothing was out of place; not a single magazine, not a single CD, nor a single vial of illicit substance. The arduous task of looking about his sordid haven for some reason really bummed him out. He reached out with a dumpy paw and groped about by his grimy keyboard for a couple of stray blue and purple tabs, before popping them into his muzzle and washing them down with a shot of Captain. He wished it would all just go away.

_The needle tears a hole

The old familiar sting

Try to kill it all away

But i remember everything_

He ignored the messages blinking on his computer monitor from an IRC window, and instead just leaned back in his sweat soaked office chair and turned up the music on his speakers. Old acquaintances from college, old scores from the streets, all demanded timely response; as intrinsically convincing as transient electron pulses can be. Kelvin half closed his eyes, his ears drooping a bit as he secluded himself from the outside world and its mediate concerns.

_What have i become?

My sweetest friend

Everyone i know

Goes away in the end_

Within minutes the free roaming garbage and squalid rank of his apartment transformed from a grub into a butterfly. Off kilter stacks of moldy, discarded pizza boxes shifted into an impregnable mortar castle wall. Hanging cobwebs and strung up ropes of duct taped power cords dangling along the ceiling suddenly blossomed with bright neon orange flowers, ones you might only see in animated rain forests. Despite the hallucinogenic 10th Kingdom springing up before his vision, underneath it all lay a vast empire of dirt.

_You could have it all

My empire of dirt

I will let you down

I will make you hurt_

Kelvin marveled at the awe inspiring beauty of his apartment kingdom for hours, slack jawed and drooling all over himself, naked.

_I wear this crown of shit

Upon my liar's chair

Full of broken thoughts

I cannot repair ...._

The hiss of air brakes outside his open apartment window startled the coyote, and he opened his eyes to the same slovenly scene as before. With a rumble, the 5-11 bus to downtown pulled away, and Kelvin squirmed about in his chair in an effort to sit up, a fat white wriggling maggot of a yote. His back ached from sitting too long, but he had a hard time finding furniture that would fit his large frame. Taller than most coyotes, and beefier, the few who saw Kelvin outside his apartment often mistook him for a white wolf.

At some indeterminable point in time Kelvin realized the itch in his bladder had become more of an antagonizing scream, and with much reluctance, rolled his enormous girth out of his computer chair and plodded on wobbly hind legs to the bathroom. Too dizzy to stand, he squatted on the toilet like a female and pissed, a sudden hollow ache following up from his kidneys. The bleach white coyote's muzzle felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a paw foraged in the filthy sink next to him for any sort of plastic cup. After finding one, rather than taking the time to empty it out and fill it with semi-fresh water, elected to swallow what reminded in the cup instead.

The sickly water was stale and piss warm, its taste flat and raunchy. There might have even been a dead fly in it.

Afterwards Kelvin shuffled back to his other room and stooped by his workbench to tinker with the delicate maze of glass tube comprising his homebuilt laboratory. He turned a glass valve here, turned up the distill rate there, and added more over the counter ingredients everywhere. The greasy yote collected what dried, powered reside his homemade contraption had produced so far and stooped on a barstool down the counter, starting the exhaustive, tedious process of packing the gel coated tablets he purchased in bulk from several pharmaceutical resellers.

After packing a few hundred tabs, he bagged up what imperfect residue remained to manufacture fake Ecstasy knock offs later. He hated doing that, but his employer, one 'Fast' Eddie Coccotti, wasn't exactly a Sicilian of scruples. Kelvin packed the final product in a divided pill box and stashed it away in a hidey hole under his floorboards near some plumbing. Some smooth talking pusher would swing by sometime later tonight and pick up his or her consignment, usually without even so much as a front. No, Kelvin worked directly for Fast Eddie and Fast Eddie alone.

Kelvin's ears perked up at the blare of a car horn and dared a peek out of his window blinds down a story to the chaotic streets below. At some indiscernible point in time the indifferent sun had decided to dip behind the gray banks of clouds and let savage nocturne descend on this untamed land. He watched as a gang of feline Boots rolled an old badger, beating him senseless, mugging him for the only Jackson in his wallet. The two overpaid beat cops sitting in their squad car a block over squealed with obnoxious swine laughter and pointed, but only after licking the remnants of donut glaze from their fat hoove fingers.

Already bored with the same program the window showed every hour, Kelvin went back to his workbench and popped the top off another container of Nyquil. Not that pussy shit cherry flavor either.

No. The Green Fucking Death.

And as so eloquently stated on his favorite comedy album, entirely legal and over the counter. What most didn't realize was how easy it was to separate, reconstitute, and purify the most active ingredient in antitussive medications: Dextromethorphan. Also known by its street name, DXM, in sufficient doses of purified form, was a potent dissociative hallucinogenic.

While Kelvin could drone on for hours and hours about how DXM would interact with various catechoamines in the brain's chemistry, blocking receptor sites for serotonin at the sub-cellular level, classified as NMDA receptor antagonists, all Fast Eddie wanted to hear was how Kevin could eliminate the second rate street drug's worst flaw: lack of physical addiction. It was no surprise that Fast Eddie recruited the burned out coyote after failing out of BCC with a half baked degree in Biomanufacturing. Mr. Eddie, as his enemies called him (and there were many) was nothing if brutally resourceful.

But Kelvin had done his boss proud, and come through with first rate goods. Only the paunchy coyote knew the best way to cut the DXO metabolite product with the perfect amount of methamphetamine. While this was dangerous for the user, as the MAOI inhibitor only compounded the NMDA receptor antagonistic effect to a life threatening degree, Kelvin knew what he was doing. He had even tinkered with inhibiting the user's cytochrome P450 enzyme, thus allowing the same addicting, hallucinogenic effect with only a fraction of the nominal 600mg dose.

Yes. Extremely potent and easy to manufacture, Kelvin had irreparably created the most addictive substance known to the local underworld drug market.

Federal Law Enforcement had code named it Substance D.

After pouring the raw, almost neon green ingredient in its proper distillation flask, Kelvin plopped back onto his sticky, sweat matted throne and leaned back once more. Exhausted from the tedious manufacture of his opus, the coyote fell into a minimally restful nap and had another tripped out dream.

In it another, unfamiliar gray coyote crept like a paranoid shadow around a twisted mirror of his residential complex, avoiding its land lord, and performing various nefarious acts, the least (or most depending on how one looked at it) serious of which constituted simple B&E ...

A sudden blare of his speakers jolted the albino canid from his disturbing REM cycle, and it took a moment for the disoriented junkie to realize that the buzz from his computer was a warning that one of Mr. Eddie's video drone's had captured something of interest. Kelvin shook himself awake and groped about for the mouse, suddenly sweating in fear.

Besides being shackled to the only source of Sub-D 24/7, Kelvin's other job was to monitor Mr. Eddie's rivals, the local PD, and occasionally, someone who even worked for him. It made sense actually, for the coyote to sit vigil over hours of video feeds if he wasn't actually going to go anywhere. Besides being brutally resourceful, Mr. Eddie was also known for his thrifty nature, and often forced a single underling to take up many roles at once.

It it also incidentally kept down the number of individuals the trafficking Lord had to keep tabs on.

Still, Kelvin did not want to let his Boss down. The last time he left the surveillance equipment unattended he missed out on an undercover DEA meeting that eventually led to a major bust down here at Cherry Hill several weeks later. The confiscated drugs had set Mr. Eddie back a cool 180K, or roughly two Mercedes S600's. For that Mr. Eddie had a lion enforcer break one of his arms.

Even now, the coyote's dumpy paw rubbed over a fresh set of feline claw marks on his face. The slashes rent in the flesh and fur of his muzzle flared bright with pain for a moment, making the coyote wonder when his Boss had last sent over a goon for some imagined infraction. Shaking his head clear of all the nasty possibilities, the albino grinned at the illicit task at paw, his rotten teeth looking like a line of Vegas ivory dice.

The window that had popped up on screen displayed infra-red footage of camera 555-0134 with a time stamp of 0115 hours earlier that night. While nothing was happening on screen as of yet, Kelvin checked the clock on his desktop, now 0401 hours in the morning, and typed the relevant info in a spreadsheet to keep tally on who did what, where, and to whom. Sweat now soaking the white fur of his brow, the anxious coyote flipped open a folder and checked for a listing of that camera and what physical location it monitored.

Despite flipping page after page, Kelvin could not find any listing for that camera number. The filthy yote ditched the useless book as soon as the blurry, multicolored heat signatures of two canids entered the stark confines of an apartment room not unlike his own. In the frame of the infra red scanner, the slightly larger canid stopped near a card table and seemed grossly absorbed in inspecting a small firearm, his hot paw warming the black shadow of its molded grip.

The smaller canid, having a fox's build, seemed to look around the walls for a moment, unsure of the situation. Most of the vulpine's image spiked white in the IR scanner's spectrum, testament to the rapid heat loss from lack of clothing and slender form. The other canid's species wasn't as easy to pin down due to his compact frame, but his broad shoulders made his gender easy to place. His image seemed darker by an entire centigrade or two, though. Perhaps he wasn't pleased about something, the blood vessels near his skin and fur constricting in tightly buried emotion.

For all Kelvin new he was spying on the same coyote in his dreams, albeit with thousands of dollars worth of FLIR equipment instead of his own mind's eye.

Something inexplicably emboldened the fox, who strode up to the other canid and placed a pair of dainty arms around the other's shoulders. Without so much of a preamble, the their muzzle's intertwined, their body cores temps flaring whiter as their paws roamed about each other. Kelvin's ears perked up at this unexpected turn of recorded events. Why had the scanners recorded this of all things? And who were these two?

Things turned up an erotic notch as the vulpine sunk to (her?) knees, nipping at the other canid's chest and stomach on the way down. Whoever Foxy was, what she lacked in cup size, she made up in salacious seduction. The other canid threw his head back, the indistinct heat blur of his head now flush with the flood of arousal. Kelvin leaned forward in his chair at the sensual scene playing out before him, despite the lack of fine detail in the thermographic footage.

The deep rumble of a moan from the standing canid sounded lupine in its conviction.

The voyering coyote's exposed sheath swelled, twitched as he watched Foxy's crafty paws undo Lupey's fly buttons. A white hot lance of seven inch cock flopped out of the undone pants, the vulpine giving a overjoyed squeak of half surprise as it hit her delicate muzzle. Without encouragement, the hard lance of wolf cock disappeared down into her feminine muzzle, her yellow and red ears pinned back in ecstasy. The sheer determination at which Foxy bobbed on that lupine dick made Kelvin pant in peripheral need.

After a few minutes of watching the explicit scene, the fat pink tip of Kelvin's own yote cock slipped out of his free hanging, white furred sheath, a bead of pre dribbling down now from the slit in the tapered head. Used to being alone, and fairly confident that there was no identical video drone stashed somewhere in his lab, Kelvin wrapped a meaty paw around the length of his erection that had already slipped out. As his white paw pumped his slick yote pole, Kelvin's pink eyes could not tear themselves away from the on screen action.

Out of nowhere the lupine sounding stranger grabbed the back of Foxy's head, forcing the squirming vulpine to choke on his thick, slick meat. He just held her there, Foxy's strangled gurgles barely picked up on the video drone's built in microphone as she thrashed about, muzzle gagged on his rigid fuck stick. Kelvin's ears pinned at the pathetic whimpers, desperate squeaks for air, but found his own slick flesh hardening in his jerking paw.

Kelvin was ashamed of himself, his arousal only deepening as he watched the feminine form flail at the other canid's legs in desperation. The coyote didnt know what sick part of him was getting off on this, but his paw kept pumping at his dripping, pink sex regardless. His breath caught as the stocky lupine speared her muzzle deep, and then let the sputtering little twat fall to the floor on her back.

It took all of his will not to spurt at that.

Lupey growled, a real depraved rumble that some sick sexual predators sometimes gave, and after allowing his pants to drop down to his ankles, slashed away which little arraignments that helped keep Foxy's thermal warmth contained. Both heat signatures spiked now, their cores glowing white from desire and fear respectively. It took a moment for Kelvin to realize that amidst the blur of white and red, Lupey's long canid tongue licked the ... spike of heat... between Foxy's legs.

The yote's muzzle dropped open, his paw freezing in mid stoke as he realized Foxy was in fact ... male.

Kelvin's throbbing erection deflated slightly in his slack grasp, the look of abject shock and a hint of disgust hanging on his muzzle like the aftertaste of something sour. And yet for some inexplicable reason, he couldn't close the window on his screen or even look away. His stunned mind kept watching the heat blur of Lupey's lapping tongue slathering over Foxy's hot prick with a ravenous hunger that he had never seen before in straight porn.

The dumb stricken yote watched on as Lupey dipped down further between Foxy's spread eagle thighs, the haze of his muzzle descending where the vulpine's tight puckered entrance would be. From the fox's squeals and jerks, Kelvin realized that Lupey must be eating out the other canid's ass. The yote looked on, watching the passionate exchange pass between the two canids. As the Foxy's rigid sex bounced against the darker fur of stomach with each pleasured kick, Kelvin felt a tightening in his balls, sheath.

It took a moment for Kelvin to realize he was hard again.

He almost didn't want to admit that the sight of two males pleasuring each other was turning him on, but he rationalized it. No one was watching. No one would know. Who cared if the fox was on it's back, ankles spread wide by his ears, getting rimmed out what sounded like a wolf. In the blur of slow motion heat trails, that could be a small breasted female on her back for all he knew.

Lupey pushed Foxy's hind legs up even more, curling the fox almost into a ball, prowling up into position to slip his hard on deep into Foxy. As Lupey's free paw forced down Foxy's neck against the wood floor in a brutal pin, he stoked something between their tight bodies, a few desperate whimpers falling from Foxy's muzzle lips.

"Please ... fuck me ..."

Despite the indistinct image, the sounds of their paired moans on first entry stroked the fires of Kelvin's imagination. While his paw unconsciously slipped back and forth over the base of his swelling knot, the slick flesh slippery under the rough pads of his paw, the naked yote reached up and pinched at one of his taught nipples. His head threw back in a groan of deep pleasure, the erotic, throaty sound merging seamlessly with the other canid's own.

Maybe Kelvin secretly liked to listen to Lupey fuck.

On screen, Lupey started to buck harder and harder into the lump of heat under him, their heat signatures melding together now, becoming one. Kelvin's fist was a blur now, jerking up and down his pink cock with reckless abandon, banging the knot at its base on each down stroke. Foxy barked out once, twice, his hind legs spasming in climax. But Lupey didnt stop, no.

Instead, after a momentary pause, the fuzzy outline of his heat signature flared, before his other paw clamped down hard on Foxy's neck with its twin.

Foxy gave out a pathetic squeak as his airway cut off, and with a grunt, Lupey drove back into him, his body humping into the indistinct heat lump that bucked on the screen before Kelvin. The yote's ears perked at the sounds of strangulation, his eyes squinting to the mass of thermal confusion on the IR scanner, but his other paw crept down to his furry balls as he beat off with the other, regardless. He could feel the sacs churn in his paw, feel the familiar twitch itch in his prostrate as he got closer to blowing his nasty load all over himself to the sick scene before him.

Kelvin watched on as the fox kicked, choked helplessly, and wanted to take his place.

The yote groaned out as Foxy's legs started convulsing in asphyxiated throes, his final death rattle only getting Kelvin's rocks off even faster. As the growl of Lupey's first climax fell on his white ears, the yote knew that the stranger on IR before him had just knotted the dead body underneath it, and it pushed him over the edge.

Kelvin whined, his pink eyes closing tight as his thick cock twitched once, twice, before blowing his nasty yote load all over his fat belly and chest. He arched in his chair as he continued to spurt, thick ropes of coyote jism soaking into his snow white fur. The eavesdropping canid continued to grunt with each squirm, all the while vehemently denying to one half of himself that he just got off to two males fucking.

And one of them getting snuffed.

Just as Kelvin came down from the high of his orgasm, better than any high he had ridden in a long time, there came a sudden knock at the door. The coyote jumped a little, still covered in his own spunk, and his eyes shot open in surprise. When the knock came again, his pudgy cum covered paw shot out for the mouse to close the video window, but Kelvin instead blinked in confusion.

The window was already gone, his desktop screen empty.

Another patient knock prompted the flustered yote to scramble for a ratty, unwashed night robe before throwing it on and shuffling to the door, kicking aside empty cans and assorted trash along the way. He peered into the eye hole and in the fish eye view spied a rather attractive female black backed jackal milling about, pacing. Kelvin recognized her as one of Mr. Eddie's girls and unlocked the door. The dead blot gave a thick metallic click, almost lost in the blare of music that streamed from his speakers.

"You're truant Ms. Nakali ... I expected an expedited pick up on Mr. Coccotti's goods several hours ago." Kelvin closed the door after ushering the slim waisted jackal inside.

"I swung by your place around midnight, Kelvin," she replied offhandedly, a light Romanian accent touching her words like a fluttery angel, "But no one answered. Were you even here?"

"I didn't vacate my station, if that is what you are implying." The albino locked the door and shuffled to the fake piece of floorboard, grunting as he bent over and tugged it upward. "How have things ... been?"

The female jackal frowned, and her large black ears flickered about. With a graceful float across the unvarnished floorboards, she pulled out a unused metal fold out chair and flipped it around, before sitting down and wrapping her sexy thighs around the back support. The denim of her daisy dukes drew taught around her curvy hips and slender waist as she did so, the hardened buds of her nipples perking against the dirt smudged white blouse she wore.

Kelvin tried not to notice the fact that she decided to walk around tonight without a bra on; failed.

Nakali was a second generation Romani immigrant, her parents fleeing a bum rap from the Czech Republic in the seventies. The skin under her raven black fur had the unmistakable tint of her gypsy ancestors, her muzzle lips huge and alluring. Her eyes had an olive color to them, ones that you couldn't help but stare into for hours and forget what you were doing.

"You know. Biz is biz, coyote."

"Yeah, but I overheard Mr. Coccotti has indentured you for more capitol earning besides your primary occupation." She shot him an odd look as he retrieved the hidden pill box and handed it to her, before sitting back into his creaky office chair.

"Yeah, I guess." She shrugged, her pert 'b' cup breasts making gentle, decidedly female shapes against the fabric of her blouse. Her nose quivered a bit amongst the plethora of scents engulfing her, and the ends of her muzzle lips curled up in a sly smile as she caught a strong whiff of recent spilled yote seed. Despite the overlay of older, more pungent scents around her, she knew.

The look in her eyes wasn't one of disgust, but saucy flirtation. Kelvin felt himself harden under his night robe at her sly eye catching advances, until she looked away, suddenly saddened for some reason. As she did so, Kelvin caught the hint of a fading shiner under the light.

"I can surmise there has been, shall we say complications, to your secondary vocation then?" Kelvin asked, folding his chubby paws on his thick chest.

While they hadn't known each other long, a few months at most, Kelvin had developed a sort of listener's rapport with the attractive female pusher. While their relationship had been mostly business, Nakali had got the usually reclusive coyote to warm up to her. Kelvin felt like he could confide anything to the sexy jackal, although he hadn't confided to her that he had been watching her in her apartment a floor below.

On Mr. Eddie's orders of course.

Why Mr. Eddie had ordered him to watch her wasn't important, what was important was that it was an order from Mr. Eddie. The secluded coyote had made sure in slow times to record her daily routine, however, and to privately file archived sessions of naked female jackal self indulgence, for later, more methodical, viewing. Nakali looked back at Kelvin, hesitant.

"You know how Mr. Eddie is. He hooks me up with his pal Sleazy Pete, making the vids, says he'll make me a star. Help me save some bread for my family still back in Europe."

Kelvin simply nodded, letting the jackal take her time.

"But Sleazy Pete, you see, he gets mad when the take doesn't go a certain way. Sometimes ... he gets rough with us girls. Or maybe he lets our male co-stars get a bit wild, wider appeal he says ..." There was a moment of silence.

"Mr. Coccotti would not be pleased with damaged goods. Especially if he decides to take your girl's enterprise to street."

Kelvin tried to ply for impartial devil's advocate, trying to hide his own desire to stick his yote prick in her. Despite his logical, relaxed demeanor, there wasn't anything more he'd rather be than the seat of the metal fold out right now. He continued on regardless, despite the throb in his semi-flaccid shaft.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, curious.

"You think ... I could talk to Mr. Eddie, directly?" She bit her lower muzzle lip. "I mean, I've been pushin' for him for what? Three months now? And I haven't even met the guy." After a few moments of bating, she smiled at the coyote. "You think you could arrange a meeting for us girls, so we could convince him we like working, just not under Sleazy Pete? We'd really appreciate that, maybe we'd turn a couple of ... tricks for ya."

The normally glazed eyes of the coyote took a sudden shine, the manipulative feminine jackal not missing his autonomous reaction underneath the robe in the slightest.

"I will endeavor to relay your plight. As a ... favor ... between associates."

Nakali got up from her seat and walked over to the yote, before laying a chaste kiss on the side of his muzzle. Without a word, but instead giving a quick flick of her slim jackal tail, she took her consignment and left, letting the yote's imagination run rampant with possibility.

Still, when he turned back to his monitor, a private, anonymous message had popped up in an IRC window, and the coyote's blood ran cold. The message read:

What does a scanner see? I mean, really see? Into the head? Down into the heart?

Kelvin looked about to the patchwork of cords and jumble of trash all around him. He then crept to the door, and locked it, suddenly afraid of who or what knew his dirty little voyeuristic secret from earlier. The introverted, reclusive coyote couldn't ignore the fact anymore that someone was stalking him ...

~ Fin: Part I ~

Special thanks go out to Glycol Sardius and Hawk for their indirect inspiration in this series. Also, many nuzzles to Lykos Bane, Gazban, and KoshneBear for their early feedback. Those who are well read might notice the themes of certain works from Philip K. Dick, Chuck Palahniuk, and David Lynch, linger here.

It is most intentional.