Rebound
August 22, 2002 - February 17, 2005 Rebound, Part I So, it took me 2.5 years to write this story. I am not part of the furry community anymore, haven't been fore a while now, having decided it was not the place for me, yet I felt like I had to finish this story. I had my reservations about writing a piece with yiff in it, that is why it stood unfinished for so long. This was originally planned to be a much longer series, but I can't get myself to finish it. Maybe one day I will revisit "Rebound", make the characters human, take out the sex. Things have changed in my life since I left the furry community, and this writing doesn't reflect that. For now, I will let people (hopefully) enjoy the fruits of my long labor. The ending is rushed, the story sat unfinished right before the aparment scene for over a year. A few things near the end are left out that I meant to put there, like Markus and Copper entering the apartment and discovering a few more things, and revealing more about what Thomas has in his head. Even though this is my first and last furry story, I wouldn't mind hearing what people think. -Tigershard [email protected] Rebound
He walked by the bar without a second thought, head down and eyes focused on the cracked and gum-flecked sidewalk before him. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary about the outside of the establishment. The neon sign above the door displayed its message, "The Lavand", in bright wildly slanted letters. The unconsciously mandatory blink and buzz of a dying letter was also prominent. Thomas would have continued his fast pace towards no specific destination if it had not been for a sudden jolt in his brain. He spun around on his worn and cracked motorcycle boots, open leather motorcycle jacket swinging behind him to catch up with his sudden alteration of course. He bent forward and was now face to face with the bars daily event list, plastered on a dark, tinted window. He focused and growled low. The typical trash was listed on the music menu, Super-mixed Oldies on Mondays, Hip-Hop night on Tuesdays and Thursdays, euro-pop power night on Wednesdays, and... In the reflection of the Bengal tiger's stripped face, muscles shifted into a wicked smirk and ears perked, followed by a wince as another sudden jolt ran through his brain. He squinted and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the head-ache like residue left by the signal. He looked up again, lifting his paw and placing a black claw on the sign to make sure he had read it right: "House Techno Fridays". He tapped the sign and then stood up, flexing his paws. The fingers-less leather gloves covering them had not been broken in yet, and were still a bit tight. None-the-less, the effect was still same. Thomas was going for the bad-ass look, and he had not failed. Adding to the effect was the spiked tail cuff at the tip of his tail, where the orange changed to black. He just wondered how well his look would be received by the patrons of the bar. Nothing to worry about, it's a bar for Christ's sake. Probably has people much weirder than I, like.... ZAP! This time Thomas keeled over from the ever-growing intensity of the shock. He moaned and shook his head violently, "Accepted. Accepted! God damn it"! He picked himself up off the dirty sidewalk and quickly wiped off his leather pants. He composed himself and made his way forward to the bar, starting his ascent up the meager concrete steps. Thomas reached for the door and then stopped for a moment. He could not hear any music, or even feel the slightest bass coming from the club. Either nothing was going on, or this was a well-off club that could afford the expensive sound-proofing. He slowly opened the door and the music leaked out at a fairly low, listenable volume, though the bass was missing. He slipped in and observed his surroundings. The small desk and stair-way was lighted by a florescent pinkish light coming from the bottom of the desk and running up the side railing on the stairs. Underneath the stairs, which were against the north wall of the room, the corner seemed dark and foreboding. Thomas felt fairly certain there had to be a door there, but before he could think resolution increase, he heard a grunt. He finally focused directly ahead, and the first things to catch his eye were the twenty-five inch TV screens stacked four high on each side of the desk. Each TV screen was displaying a different Furdonna music video, each from some critical point in her career. The screens had a logical order to them: from trashy to plain out-right weird. Furdonna's first smash hit, 'Borderline' played on the lower left hand screen, while her oriental themed, frightening mannequin dancing 'Substitute for Love' played on the upper-right hand screen. The hair on the female Leopard's thin, ovular faced also slowly changed from blond, to red, to black, and other variations. Even after eighteen years, Furdonna still drove the boys (and bois) wild, except all it was making the bouncer was mad. Thomas noticed the Desk Clerk only when he finally spoke up, "Yo, in or out"? The deep, mock manly voice almost scared Thomas due to surprise. He almost wanted to laugh, but only let out his patented wicked smirk instead. The gray wolf had his muscular arms crisscrossed on his chest, the muscles bulging out of the tight, dark blue t-shirt. Of course, his chest was similarly muscled, not to mention his thighs and legs. Thomas thought the wolf would be the perfect bouncer if it were not for his slightly high pitched voice. "In, I want in. How much"? Thomas reached into his leather pants and removed his wallet, pulling out a twenty. When he looked up again, this time he was surprised by the serious look on the wolf's face and the burning look in his eyes. Staring through....no, looking at me? Thomas smiled at the thought, and the wolf finally smiled back. "Seven bucks," he reached under the desk and pulled out a wrist band, "you'll have to wear this to get booze, but, I'm going to have to see ID first." The stern gaze returned to the bouncer's face. Thomas scowled "I'm fucking twenty-seven! I'm a damn old fart compared to those thirteen year olds with fake IDs you let in here," he slid his government ID card over the table anyway, "but in your case I'll take that as a compliment." Underneath his A.E.G.I.S. card was another, which he considered more important than the one on top. The wolf barely glanced at the top card; he knew he didn't have to read anymore to know he could must let the tiger in. The Bouncer's blue eyes focused closely on the second card, which had Thomas' name and his private voice mail number printed on it. The bouncer ran one paw through his wavy black hair, ears twitching passively. He slipped the card into his back pocket, and pointed up the stairs. "It's on me, you can pay up later." Thomas nodded and turned toward the stairs leading up to the main room. He slipped the twenty back into his pocket and put his right hand on the cold iron railing, and noticed a band around it. He looked over his shoulder; the wolf was staring up at him and gave him a wink and a smirk. Thomas chuckled and continued up the stairs, throwing a small wave behind him. He placed his paw on the handle, and felt the dull vibrations run up his entire arm. Now that's more like it! As the door opened, the ambience swallowed Thomas whole. He waited a second for his eyes to adjust, and his ears. He could make out the silhouettes of bodies sitting at tables lined around the edges of the room. He spied an empty table near the rails to the dance floor, giving him a perfect view of the thrashing and moving bodies crowding the lower level. He pulled back a chair and slipped in, putting his arms on the table and sighing. This was the first moment today he had time to sit down and relax, and hopefully enjoy himself. Not that his work wasn't enjoyable, or invigorating, it just did so in different manner. His empty gaze slid across the dance floor, not really looking at anything, but remembering the events of the day, the slick feeling of.... "What'll it be, honey", in a high-pitched ditzy voice. Chew, chew, chew, chewchew. Thomas tensed and turned his head towards the person that was accosting him. The plump skunk, with the melon-shaped breasts that were now too close to his head for comfort, blinked her eyes and continued to over-chew her gum. She wore a tight, light purple sleeve-less shirt that showed a fair amount of cleavage. Her red skirt was just as revealing, and anyone looking up from the dance floor would probably see underneath it. Overall, Thomas was disgusted. He turned his head back to look at the dance floor, and muttered, "Captain Jorgen's, on ice". Thomas attempted to focus on the dancers, but two fingers snuck under his chin and forcefully turned his head back towards the over-ripe melons. "You seem to be a bit tense, sugah", now two hands were caressing his cheeks, which began to heat up in anger. "We could, you know, work off some tension, in a private place..." She was about to lower her large bottom on to Thomas's lap when he growled and pushed her over. He got up and glared down at her, a hateful look burning in his eyes. She looked up at him with disbelief in her eyes, watery pearls glittering around the edges. "Look, bitch! Get me my fucking drink! If you touch me again, I'll break off those damn fingers of yours. You're must be a fucking valley girl to approach men in a place like this. Fucking aye"! He sat back down and put his elbows up on the table. He gave the frightened girl one last glance as she grabbed her tray and scrambled to stand up. "And take that ring off your finger. Any man with two balls for brains could figure out what it means". She glared and stalked off, hopefully to get his drink, but he doubted it. She wouldn't dare show her face to him again, at least not tonight. Thomas breathed deeply and relaxed, letting the music wash over him. The current song playing was "Dreaming" by BT, one of his favorites. Even though this piece wasn't House Techno, he let that fact slip by his mind. He almost wanted to get up and dance... almost, if not for the small throb inside his head. He finally gave the dance floor the attention he had meant to give it. The floor was awash in a rainbow of colors, blinking and changing to the beat of the music. Everyone on the floor was absorbed in dancing. Some had accessories, their glow sticks and other glow items, and probably jacked up on E. Many others were dressed up in stylish and showy outfits, obviously gay, although some, like the skunk-waitress, were clueless to the culture that surrounded them. Mainly males filled the dance floor, but the few females that were present moved just as violently as the men. Thomas wondered why he found such an environment relaxing. After a hard and strenuous day of work, any sane man would want to go home and dive onto the couch or into his bed, or put on a porn and jerk off and release the days tension. Some would find respite in the act of making dinner, or walking fucking the dog. Somewhere, someone was probably finishing up their suicide letter, weighing if it were worth it or not to pull the trigger, not being able to handle the stress and the racing thoughts... Ah, racing thoughts, Thomas thought to himself. He remembered why he liked coming to places like this after during work. The pace of the music and the people matched the pace of the electrodes shooting messages in his mind. Thomas always had a lot to think about and consider. He was one of those people sad that always had to bring their work home with them, and it would be with him, even when he slept. The dreams weren't always bad, just sometimes. He could take out most of his aggression during work, but... his occupation was not just an occupation. Thomas had quickly learned in his younger days that it was a way of life. The dance floor lost Thomas' attention as a bottle was thrust on to the table. The Captain Morgan's bubbled and began to spill over the top of the bottle. He grabbed it quickly and took a sip, the dry taste and sparkling texture washing over his taste buds. He turned slightly to thank the provider of the drink, a slender cheetah in black dress pants, fancy leather belt, and a bright, white dress shirt. The cheetah stood there with his eyes closed and a wide smile, hands behind his back. "Glad I could be of service. I want to apologize for Tiffany, she's new here, but won't be for long once I get rid of her." He glanced over his shoulder at the female skunk he called Tiffany, and Thomas looked too. "Nah, don't worry about it too much. She's just a young girl, a bit too naïve to be in a place like this. Someone might be able to take advantage of her if she isn't careful." "Well, if you have any more trouble, just come find me. Names Tex, I don't own this place, but I run it. I'll probably be behind the bar most of the time." "I don't believe I will have any more problems, other than needing another drink. I'll be sure to search you out." Thomas smiled and took another sip from the bottle. Tex clasped Thomas' shoulder as he walked by, just a thought sprung to Thomas' mind. He grabbed Tex's arm before he could get too far away. Tex turned around, and smiled again. "That Bouncer downstairs... I don't know his name?" Tex nodded, "Ah, yes, that's Brad." "How long has he been working here?" Tex thought for a second, "Probably about five years, started when he was pretty young." He snickered. "Actually, he started coming to the club before he was even eighteen. With his muscles, he could easily get away with using his fake ID that said he was nineteen. Then after a few months, the Bouncer back then, Markus, saw through his little scam, and Brad beat him pretty bad when Markus tried to restrain him." Tex gestured at the seat at the other side of the table, and Thomas nodded. Tex sat down and leaned back in the chair, relaxing, though his tail stood upright behind him and snaked about. "I had actually gotten to know Brad pretty well. He was pretty uncomfortable the first few times he was here, just sitting by himself in the corner, tapping his feet along to the music." This time Tex pointed to the drink, and Thomas slid the bottle over to the other side of the table. He took a long swig and let out a satisfied sigh. "I was also younger back then, and not yet the manager, just a waiter. He wore a tight, mid-riff shirt, extremely short jeans, and fingerless leather gloves, like yours. He looked, well.... Sexy! I started talking to him, and immediately figured out he wasn't eighteen yet. Every time he came, I'd be the first one to sit down by him and chat, find out what's going on in his life. He seemed to really enjoy that. I knew he had to have some reason for being here. Usually people don't get fake IDs to come to a club alone. When he started leaving with a different guy every week, I began to get worried. His attitude changed slightly every time. He began to seem less nervous, more outgoing, but at the same time still naïve." Tex looked down for a second, and studied the Captain Morgan. He let out a sigh and looked out at the dance floor. "I'm a pretty bad host. You ask me simple question and I get down on your, and personal. If you'll excuse m....." "Hey, it's ok! I don't really mind. The story reminds me a bit of my youth. Being young, living dangerously." Tex turned his head to look at Thomas again. "From that look in your eyes, I can tell you lived that way too for awhile." Tex grinned and nodded. "Hah! Those were the days... yeah. Then I found this place, and the owner helped me put my life back together. He's a great guy, but back to Brad." Thomas nodded and leaned forward. Tex's abrupt transition back to Brad meant he had something he needed to get off his chest, and for some reason, he had chosen Thomas to be the bearer. "I told Brad one evening I was worried about him, that I didn't want to see him get hurt. He laughed at me, gave me a hug with those strong arms of his, and told me he was having the time of his life. To tell you the truth, I had a crush on him. He was very kind, and not like all the other gay people in this club. He wasn't into the scene yet, he wasn't corrupted and brainless. That night he went home with another wolf, who was dressed in complete leather outfit, but it seemed extremely hard-core. Studs everywhere on the leather, cod-piece leather pants, nasty looking boots with lots of buckles and more studs. What I hated the most was that wicked grin he gave Brad, and me. It was like... 'I've won'. And the sad part about it was I felt that I truly lost..." Tex paused again, and let out a weak smile. "To make a long story short, stuff happened, and Brad changed. He became mean, and quiet again, but he still came to the club week after week. Well, that's when Markus discovered how old he really was, and the fight broke out. Brad came back to the club when he was eighteen, about five months later. I was surprised, because he came to see me! Turned out his parents kicked him out because he was gay, and he had been living with friends on and off for awhile. Luckily, Markus was leaving since he was offered a more "professional" job, though he wouldn't tell us what. I gave Brad the job, and he was grateful." Tex stopped there, and finished the drink. He leaned forward and smiled at Thomas, looking him directly in his green eyes. Thomas gave back a small grin. "Curious, but, why are you telling me all of this? I'm a complete stranger that just threatened one of your waitresses. I might be just as much as an asshole as that leather wolf in your story about Brad." Tex laughed. "You're not. I saw you down there with him, I was at the door under the stairs. I haven't seen him be so friendly to anyone like that in awhile. He likes you, I just don't want to see him, or you, get hurt. He deserves to have good things happen to him. He deserves more than I could ever give him." Tex pushed the chair back and got up. "I'll bring you another drink, on the house." Thomas didn't watch him go; he had too much on his mind. Tex's story was interesting and maybe a little sad... but Thomas didn't really care. He needs to let the past go, like I did. Brad let the past go... I wonder if Brad is a good choice. Damnit, the last thing I need, or even want for that matter, is someone clinging to and depending on me. Thomas growled and shoved his chair back hard, garnering a brief set of harsh words from the occupant at the next table. He didn't notice, or at least pretended not too. He mumbled to himself, "What the fuck am I doing here..." ZAPPP! Thomas fell to his knees, his breath labored, hands grasping his head. He felt his stomach churn and flip, wanting to reject that booze he had just taken in. He moaned softly, and the raccoon occupying the chair that he had rammed his own into gave him a disapproving look. The music faded, the club disappeared from around him. He heard nothing, not even his own heavy breathing. Thoughts, his thoughts, he could still.... see his thoughts. Fu...ck... no......t.....cold..h....n...el...ow...p. Too many colors and images filled the dark spaces. Thomas thought his mind would overload if he were not looking at the images in his mind, he was just seeing them all at once. And Jason! Jason was there! Thomas stood up. The room was just like he remembered it. The walls were an off white in the places where it could actually be seen. Shelves lined the room from front to back, stocked with books, CDs, computer parts, and remnants of a broken childhood. Thomas put a foot forward to advance on the shelf holding a dirty tiger plush sitting on all fours. Before he could take another step, he realized he was standing on cold wood. He looked down, and the freshly polished hard-wood floor flashed at him due to the light coming from the window at the head of the room. Not only was he not wearing his boots anymore, but his leather pants were gone and replaced by jeans shorts. He was glad to be out of those pants. Although he enjoyed wearing them, and the feeling of leather against his fur kept him on an almost continual, subconscious state of excitement, after a while they became hot and sweaty. The breeze coming through the window lightly ruffled his leg fur, and his chest fur, since he was also not wearing a shirt. The tiger plush called to him, and he took the remaining steps forward to grab it, but before his paw could actually grasp the small bundle of fur, Jason spoke in a low growl. "You know, little cat, I think you are missing the most important thing in this room right now." Thomas' tail shot out, and his ears perked up. How long had it been since he heard that voice, that dangerously soothing wave pattern. He tried to think, but his mind reeled, those words echoing continuously. Thomas knew that he had heard him speak those words before, and the same words had played in his mind over and over again like a broken record. He dared to look, he had to. He had no choice, to see him again, to see the... Thomas turned his head slowly, ears now stuck to his head, afraid of who what he may see. There, on the bed below the window, a dark gray wolf lay with his back propped against a mass of pillows. He was undoubtedly handsome, bearing a resemblance to Brad wait... doesn't Brad look like him since, Jason's not... Thomas couldn't finish the thought, not just because he didn't want to accept the truth, but also because he was too turned on. Jason was completely naked. He flashed Thomas a wicked grin, his soul protruding from his gold eyes. He was the shape of a god, at least in Thomas' opinion many years back. His muscled chest was tensed, due to one of his strong paws slowly massaging his erect cock, while the other idly played with the lightly furred, dangling ball sack. Thomas didn't even realize he was gaping, until, "Shut your mouth kid and come closer. I'm getting tired of waiting for your ass!" Jason looked down at the thick member protruding from his sheath. He let out a low rumble as he used his thumb to spread the droplet of pre-cum forming around the head. He closed his eyes and began to pump a little harder, tongue lolling out of his muzzle. Thomas had to stop from launching himself forward and smothering the horny wolf. He felt the bulge in his own pants, aching, wanting to be let out and caressed. But, he knew he had to play this slowly. He couldn't go too fast, it wasn't right, it wouldn't be how it had been before. He took a few careful steps forward, the floor creaked, and Jason opened one eye to watch his passage. In a time span that seemed like ages to Thomas, he finally reached the edge of the large, white-sheeted bed. He put one hand on the edge of the mattress, and placed the other on Jason's large chest muscle. Thomas rubbed the fur gently, grasping to feel the hard tissue beneath his paw. He leaned further in, and a large gray paw grabbed his head and pulled him close. His lips met with Jason's, and Jason gave him a hard kiss, forcing his tongue into the cat's mouth and rubbing it against his own tongue and fangs. The paw that was stroking his wolf-cock came forward slowly and ran up Thomas' jeans from the crotch to the button, and pulled forcefully when it reached the top. The button popped out, and Thomas' erect cock leaped out. To Jason's surprise, and Thomas', Thomas was not wearing anything underneath the tight jeans. Jason pulled away from the kiss, and visibly ogled at Thomas' pink meat. He grabbed it in his paw, wrapping his fingers around it, almost being able to cover the entire length. Thomas gasped as Jason began to slowly tug. It felt the same as the first time someone had touched him there. This is the first time... Thomas reached out to grab Jason's long, dripping member, but his hand was slapped away and held tight. Hot breath rasped in his ear, the wolf's whiskers tickling. He listened; he knew he had no other choice. "If you want this," the wolf led Thomas' hand to his warm cock, "you're going to have to promise me something." "Anything..." and Thomas' released himself and landed on the bed, on top of Jason, a long, deep kiss exchanging between them, hands grasping and groping at cocks, balls, and rear ends. Bliss, eyes closed, the taste of... ...blood. Thomas mrrfed and tried to pull away. He opened his eyes, licking his lips and still tasting blood. The smells, those had changed too. The light spring air with a hint of cleaning solution had morphed into the stale smell of shit and wetness. Not only was the air wet, but so was Thomas, soaked through. Jason was in the same state, but he was also soaked in his own blood. Jason lay against the curved, sludge-covered wall of the sewer. His breath came heavy and disjointed. His eyes focused on Thomas who was still busy inspecting the surroundings. Thomas knew this place. Sometime, somewhen, in the past. He had to have known. Seeing Jason against the wall, broken, bleeding... broken! How did he know Jason was broken, that the fire was gone, that he had given up, that his bones had snapped in too many places for him to even physically go on, much less mentally? Why didn't it come to him as a shock that this person, his former lover?, was dying, and there was nothing he could do about it. There was no way he could take away the pain, unless he... Jason coughed, more blood flowing out, "Kill me, please", pathetic. Thomas shook his head, he couldn't even say no. He just hung his head and shook it, wanting to cry. No more killing. Thomas couldn't kill anymore; even to put Jason out of his misery. The gun that he had not noticed before was resting in his hand, and felt oddly comfortable. He noticed it was the same gun he still uses today, a weapon tainted with blood from friends, enemies, and innocents. The future and past are already set. Thomas knew that if he had done something once, he couldn't change it. Even in his memories, the ones stored away in the deepest corners, he had to play out the same event over and over, he had to carry it out the same way every time, or the possibilities of the other outcome would cause his mind to overflow and implode on itself. He raised the gun to Brad's head, and this time put a smile on his face. A wicked smile, a cruel smile. Somewhere, somewhen, Thomas had begun to take joy in this forlorn memory, joy in having to relive his punishment endlessly. The trigger.... ZAPPP! "Woah there!" Thomas felt himself falling forward, and then suddenly caught before he could get too close to the ground. He quickly righted himself, and looked around desperately. Where was he? What happened? Had anyone noticed? His savior detected the obvious confusion, and chimed in. "You were a bit tipsy there, and the punk in the seat behind you didn't help when he stuck his foot out." Tex glared at the Raccoon, who glared back through the corners of his eyes. Thomas rubbed his head and moaned. "How long was I out?" "How long? You just tripped, and luckily I was there to catch you. I think you just had a brief spell. You're ok, right?" Thomas nodded his affirmation, and also shook out the residue of pain that resided in his skull. Something had happened to him, he just couldn't remember what. Everything went black, and then... everything came back. He was tired, more or less exhausted, from the exertion he didn't know he had even experienced. "Yeah, must have been a dizzy spell. I get those sometimes, stress from work and all, you probably know what it's like." Tex grinned. "That, my friend, is another thing we have in common." Thomas reached out and briefly clasped Tex's shoulder, a small sign of affection that made Tex's grin even wider. "I'm going to get out of here Tex, maybe I'll come back another night, but no promises. I have some work I need to do, and I'm not getting it done he...." ....signal... Thomas whirled around and pulled Tex behind himself as a reflex. They were now both facing the dance floor, Tex asking questions which Thomas could not hear. He had his hand ready to draw the gun hidden in his pants; the gun he had used for can't remember... killing. Now he knew! The strong signal before, he understood. Damnit! He's here, he's been here all this time. Now just where... The alley outside of the Lavand was the typical alley outside of any city building. As he stepped into it, he heard a loud crash and saw motion in the darkness. His first reaction, just like Thomas's, had been to go for his gun. He calmed himself down, realizing it was just a cat, like in any typical alley. He drew his gun anyway. Something wasn't right. The smell was all wrong. The typical smell was there, but it was covered by something rotten and foul. He walked forward, something squished beneath his leather shoes. He ignored it, probably cat shit or something equally as revolting. He continued his slow pace deeper into the alley, his eyes slowly adjusting more and more to the lack of light. He knew where it was supposed to be, that dim bulb, on the left side wall, above the door that came out from the club. He came up to the door and took the single step that he always remembered being there. Below his shoes, he heard a crunching noise, probably broken glass. He looked up to where the light should have been, and did not even see the fixture that was meant to hold the bulb; it had been completely torn away. He stepped back away from the door, eyeing his surroundings more carefully. The over turned boxes and trash cans were much more work than a lazy cat was willing to do, even if it was looking for food. The way things were haphazardly strewn about could only mean a struggle had taken place. He knew that his target was inside the club, and he had to get in without begin seen by him. The front door would be a bad idea, since the target may be watching that area. The only other option was the roof or the side door, and going through the roof would require gaining access through another building, and then jumping the gap between the two buildings. At the moment he wasn't really up for that type of exertion. He turned back around towards the door and grasped the handle, hoping it would be unlocked. No luck, as usual, the door was shut. He began to knock on it, hoping someone in the back room would hear. No answer. The force of his knocking increased to a banging and finally produced a result. He heard a clicking noise, and then a drawn out screech as the view hole slid open. The green eyes behind the door were narrow and focused. They took in the wolf standing before the door, and the way he was dressed. He could tell the pants were expensive black dress pants from their dull luster in the light coming from the view hole. The eyes moved up and took in the black jacket with two buttons and silver cuff links, a white undershirt peaking out from under the sleeves. Dark black fur with nicely trimmed claws came out of those sleeves. The dress seemed to be standard "undercover" from the looks of it. The being behind the door sighed and moved his gaze up to the wolf's face, and his eyes went large in shock. A low, gruff voice penetrated the silence between the figure at the door and the wolf in the alley, "F.B.I. business. Open this door." The eyes narrowed once again, "Yeah, sure, and my mother is a ten cent hooker." The view hole began to slide shut, but the wolf shot his fingers into the slot and pushed it back easily, since the old metal was already giving the person on the other side of the door enough trouble. He reached into his pocket with the other hand and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open. The door man stopped trying to push the view slot closed, and inspected the ID, and then started laughing. "Haha, fuck! I was warned about you. Go use your muscle somewhere else you fucking pansy!" The view hole finally slid and almost crushed the wolf's fingers. He pulled back with a lurch and almost tripped over the single step. He growled and slammed his fist onto the top of the trash bin, which produced a sickening crunch. He stepped closer to the large trash receptacle, bending down to pear at the lid. The top was slightly elevated by a small mass, dripping liquid into a puddle below. The wolf reached his fingers under the lid. He grimaced as he felt them slide on the wet plastic. He turned his head to the side, hoping to avoid any foul stench, and threw open the lid. He stepped back and almost tripped over the single step again. Although he could not clearly see the species, he knew the object inside the trash bin was a dead person, arm outstretched and fingers lying over the edge, dripping blood. The wolf knew this could only mean one thing. HE had gotten here first, again! The wolf abandoned his plans to get through the side door and raced to the front. He launched himself through the door and collided with a muscular figure before he could get up the stairs. The figure pushed him back, and growled. He reached into his coat, and pulled out his badge again, but when he looked up, he knew the effort was futile. Standing in front of him was an all too familiar adversary, smiling a toothy grin. "Hello there, Markus. Visiting the bar, old habits dying hard", Brad asked with a malicious tone in his voice. Markus straightened up and glared at Brad. "Business, you know the drill. I flash this," showing his badge, "and you shut the fuck up and let me in." "Give me a reason, a good one, and I'll think about it after you pay the fee." "What the.... you fucking queer! F.B.I., I say jump, and you say how fucking high!" Brad laughed. "Maybe back then, not now, not with A.E.G.I.S. around." Markus narrowed his eyes, "What do those punks have to do with this, don't tell me..." Brad grinned and took a quick step forward; causing Markus to take a step back. Before Markus knew what was going on, a fist smashed into the side of his head, sending him sprawling on the floor. Brad reached down and picked him up, forcefully shoving him against the wall. "You got it, Markus-old-friend. Already here, meaning whatever it is, already taken care of." Brad pushed him towards the door. Markus growled and touched his cheek, a small dribble of blood coming from the corner of his muzzle. He turned around to leave, shooting a quick glance over his shoulder. "Don't worry Bard, this place is going down. You and Tex, sooner or later, I'm going to find something that will make you two fry." Markus pushed open the door and casually walked out, turning to his left and walking past the alleyway. He leaned against a brick wall, and wiped out his cell phone, initializing a call with the touch of a button. He sighed and patiently waited for his partner to pick up. "Sup' Marks?" "He's here. Signs of a scuffle in the alleyway, and a dead body in the dumpster. Call cleanup and tell them to get over here ASAP. We have to move fast, and find another way into the building. Seems one of those AEGIS boys' beat us to the case. Keep an eye out for anyone who leaves the place other than the front door. Follow them if need be. Keep me posted." The person on the other end grunted, "Aye, sure thing. Copper out." Markus sighed and snapped the cell-phone shut, making it disappear back into a coat pocket. He looked around, wondering how to get into the building. "Damn, Fire-Escape, joy." He roared and punched the wall. Markus was not having a good day, and he knew things would get much worse once he reported back to HQ, unless he produced some results, fast. Thomas blended in perfectly with the other dancers. He moved with absent-mindedness; not caring what he did or what anyone else beside him did. He seemed caught in the beat, but not lost, no, that would be too dangerous. His target was close, blending in, or at least attempting and succeeding, just like he was. Someone pressed himself up behind him, thrusting with the music against his rear. Thomas did not need a trick right now, and was ready to move away, but... twitch. Just then he knew his search was over. His target had ironically found him, making things a lot simpler. Thomas spun around to greet his assailant face to face, but he was gone. Thomas looked around in desperation, spotting a small fox darting off the dance floor from the west side, heading towards the exit. He leaped into a run, pushing a few oblivious dancers to the side. Everything was gone again, the music, the people, the darkness. He had found his target, and everything in his mind was now the target. He launched himself through the door and down the stairs, almost falling down them. Brad's ears perked up as he saw who was coming down the stairs, but Thomas ignored him as he quickly made his way out the front door. He didn't have time for Brad either, not right now anyway. Thomas looked to his left. No one there, so then he... -click- Thomas sighed at his own carelessness. He turned his head slowly to the right like he had been intending to do, but he knew what he was going to see... almost. The gun pointed at his head was not one he had ever seen before. Instead of the usual gray or black of most guns these days, it was an odd mix of red and deep purple. A small laser beam rested on top of the edge of the nozzle, and judging from the caliber of the barrel, the gun was meant to deliver a small, silent, and deadly bullet. He did the only thing he knew how to do in a situation like this; he smiled. "Old man, you have five fucking seconds to explain why you were following me before I blow your brain to bits", said the young fox, with a quiver of fear in his voice. "Oh, no, but weren't you the one grinding against me? I enjoy when my prey plays hard to get, makes the kill oh so much more enjoyable. Don't you agree?" The small fox pushed the weapon into Thomas's temple, "Don't play games with me! You were looking for me, and you fucking want something. Think fast, or you won't be able to think at all." He grabbed Thomas's ass and gave it a firm squeeze, causing Thomas to produce an unconscious purr. The fox half grinned, joyous in knowing he had more power over the feline than just the judgment of his life or death. "You got me! I have some stuff, something direct out of the labs. With your expertise, I thought we could get some sort of business going, and maybe a few pleasurable endeavors on the side." The fox grinned fully this time, slowly beginning to squeeze the trigger, then pulling back and spinning the gun back into his coat pocket as if he were a cowboy in a western. He still ran his paw around the tiger's leather clad ass, applying extra pressure under his tail. The fox began walking, grabbing a hold of Thomas' hand and pulling him forward. "I didn't want to kill you, really! You just have to be careful, you know? The business is sorta rough these days. F.B.I. starting to crack down on us and all." The fox spoke just staring forward, occasionally looking up at Thomas to smile at him, Thomas sending back a platonic smile in return. He continued to talk as they walked through the city, slowly heading towards one of the older, yet nicer districts. The fox knew where he was going, and was intending to take Thomas somewhere. Thomas would have liked to know where, but the fox continued to talk. "I also hear there's a new group out there. Kinda scared, pretty good at what they do. But you say my new piece, right? Its rockin'! Light as a feather, silent, and barely leaves a hole. Once the bullet penetrates it explodes into a bunch of pieces and shit. Probably could take out a bunch of those ass-wipes by myself. I'm pretty fast, you saw my disappearing act, right? You shoulda seen those F.B.I. guys that were chasin' me the other day. Haha, the wolf guy was a dumbass, and you know....." The fox continued to chatter. Thomas was listening silently, adding up all the pieces of information in his head that he would later have to write in his report. He couldn't believe the stupidity of his young companion, babbling on and on about his crimes. Thomas looked down at him; the fox only came up to his chest. He seemed so excited, and joyful, the complete opposite of a wanted murderer and drug pusher. And, too young, Thomas thought to himself. He was too young to be doing these things, living this life. He looked not much older than seventeen. Tex's story about Brad suddenly popped into mind. He's lonely, and naïve. Interesting information, but I have to do what has to be done. He chose to live his life this way. I don't care how fucking young he is, he got himself into this shit...just like I got myself into my own. Thomas hadn't realized they stopped. They were staring at an apartment building at least 18 floors high, and it looked relatively new. Thomas knew that this kid must really be doing some good business if he could live at a place like this. The fox grabbed his hand again and pulled him forward. He had stopped speaking, and had a sullen look on his face. He kept his head down as they entered the doors and walked through the lobby to get to the elevator. He seemed like a normal, average kid, even the outfit he was wearing. As they stood in the elevator Thomas looked at the fox's clothes. He wore baggy dark blue cargo pants, lined with pockets every which way, probably where he kept his goods, yellow zippers adding a more color. His windbreaker was a mix of green and red, the colors almost clashing. The jacket was partially unzipped, and underneath he wore no shirt, showing a slightly lined chest. Between his cinnamon-colored ears he had a strip of black hair, not combed, just naturally running down the back of his head. The fox noticed that Thomas was inspecting him, and let out a small, embarrassed grin. Thomas grinned back, looking a bit malicious. It was obvious that the little fox had a thing for him, and most likely it was also due to how Thomas looked. The fox's ears laid flat back when he saw the Thomas' face, but there was also a small bulge in his pants, letting Thomas know he was not wearing any underwear. Thomas pointed at the fox's pants with a leathered paw, "You're not wearing underwear..." The fox quickly shielded his pants with his paws. The elevator dinged, and slid open. Thomas proceeded to exit, not knowing where he was going, "... good, that makes two of us ", growled Thomas as he disappeared around the corner. The hallway had a deep blue, heavy duty carpet. As all the other things in the complex, it seemed to be fairly new. The walls were an odd gray, but blending well with the carpet. The hallway had many lamps fixed on the walls, which only let out small triangular areas of thin light, giving the corridor a slightly shadowy and moody feeling. He walked slowly, and the fox caught up, hurrying past him to a door at end of the hall. When Thomas made it to the door, the fox waved his hand in front of it, waited for the chime, and then pushed it open. The first thing Thomas heard was the whirr of computer fans and the loud clicks and revving of hard drives. Upon entering the apartment, he looked to his left to see a large living room filled with computers. Underneath the L-shaped desk stood two server-sized towers, and on the desk against the wall stood three mid-sized towers. Each system had two LCD monitors, forming a wall of ten screens in front of the user. Thomas could not help but gawk. The small fox stood beside him with a smug look on his face. "Pretty nice, don't ya think?" boasted the fox. Thomas was certain the data in those systems had all the formulas for the boy's drugs and most likely information on the weapon he carried, but he knew he had to finish his primary objective before accessing the data. The fox was still grinning at his systems. Thomas grabbed him in both arms and kissed him deeply, the way Jason had once done to him, forcing the fox's tongue to rub against his and his sharp fangs. Thomas pulled away suddenly, and growled "Where's the bed?" The fox had an awe struck look in his eyes, gazing up at Thomas. He raised his arm and pointed behind him. Thomas looked forward, and saw the door to the bedroom open, a large queen size bed waiting. Thomas lifted the fox in both arms and walked quickly to the bed, tossing him onto it. The fox propped himself onto his elbows, a large grin on his face, tongue hanging out. Thomas returned the grin and reached into his coat pocket, pulling a small container with no label. He tossed it at the fox, who caught it. Thomas opened his mouth to explain the contents, but the fox quickly opened the container consumed two of the pills inside. Thomas closed his mouth, things were working better than planned, which made him even more excited. He reached down and unzipped his pants, letting his aching and pre-cum leaking cock escape from its confines. He stroked it gently with his leathered paws, the sweat acting as a natural lubricant. The young fox leaned forward and got on all fours, ready to take Thomas' tiger meat into his lusting jaws, but Thomas forcefully pushed him onto his back, and then pounced on top of him, claws tearing at the fox's shirt. The young fox whined and moaned at the same time, his long red member protruding from the top of his pants, his gaze still fixed on Thomas. Thomas licked his lips slowly, running both paws down the fox's lightly muscled chest. Thomas leaned forward and whispered into the fox's perked up ears. "I'm going to fuck you harder than you've ever been fucked before, bitch...", and with the last word he blew his hot breath into the fox's ear. He pulled himself back up and removed his leather jacket, throwing it into the corner. Thomas was now wearing his boots, unzipped leather pants, a tight white t-shirt, and his leather gloves. The fox stared at the tiger's muscled form, his eyes glazed over. Thomas knew the drug's were beginning to take affect, but he would have to continue with foreplay a little while longer if wanted to... The fox reached for his pants and began to yank them down. Thomas growled and swatted the fox's hand away from the pants. He lunged forward and grabbed box of the fox's hands, his paw was large enough to hold both of his wrists while he used the other to grab the sheet off the bed. He flashed a sinister smile, tying the sheet around the fox's wrists, and then tying each end to a bed post so the fox's paws were hanging in the air over his head. He raked his claws down the fox's chest, who had a goofy grin on his face, his tongue out once again hanging. He continued down and ran his claw over the tip of the fox's meat, following it down to his pants. Thomas grabbed the pants in both hands and pulled forcefully, roaring as they ripped into two pieces. The fox let out a small surprised yip, followed by a load moan. Thomas could no longer see the irises of the fox's eyes. Now was the time to act. He crossed his hands at his waist and grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head, and sighing as the cool air finally touched his exposed chest fur. He held the shirt in one hand, and began to stroke the fox's meat with the other. The fox closed his eyes, and bucked his hips gently in time to the rhythm of the tiger's leathered paw. Small squirts of pre-cum began to erupt from the tip, splattering on the fox's stomach. Thomas stopped stroking the member, leaning over to lick up the pre, purring deeply at its taste. "Bad fox, I didn't tell you you could waste any. Lift your legs up." The fox quickly did as he commanded, and Thomas reached up to tie his ankles to his wrists. The fox's tail hole was now exposed at the perfect angle for the tiger's barbed meat, and he wasted no time taking advantage of the situation. He licked his leathered paw and rubbed his cock gently, wanting to save as much pleasure as he could for the fuck toy in front of him. He braced himself by grabbing the fox's legs, and pushed all the way in without giving time for the fox-boy to adjust. The fox let out a heavy grunt, clearly trying to suppress a scream at being forced open so quickly. As Thomas began pulling in and out, the fox's grunts turned into panting. Thomas grinned and began to thrust harder, knowing that the fox was experiencing faster escalating and not mention more pleasure than he ever had before. The fox let out a long session of deep moans, opening and closing his mouth, finally managing to speak. "Thee.... These *pant* d..drugs. This wh...what *pant* they supposed... *growl* to do?!". Before he even finished the question, the fox was pawing off furiously, a mix of growls, pants, and moans protruding from his lips. Thomas gasped as he felt the fox's hole closing around his hot cock; the boy really knew how to use his muscles! Thomas finally let go, closing his eyes and thrusting with abandon, the bed shaking and creaking. Thomas felt a tingling at the base of his cock, and then the head rush, his vision going almost black as his seed exploded from his member into the fuck toy's ass. At that moment, he knew the fox had cum also, because he heard a loud and frightened scream erupt from the fox's throat. Thomas laughed and pulled out. He grabbed some of the blankets and cleaned up his cock, and then zipped up his pants. He stepped off the bed, and looked around for his jacket. Looking around the room, he noticed it was cluttered and messy. Old pizza boxes, porn magazines, and CDs were strewn everywhere. The floor seemed as if it had not been vacuumed in years. He was glad he had not removed his boots. He noted the discrepancy between the rest of the apartment and the bedroom. The boy knew that keeping up a clean front was good for business, but his immaturity showed in that he let people see his true nature when it came to pleasure. Any enemy could use that against him, as Thomas just had. Thomas looked towards the window, spotting his leather jacket beneath it. He snatched it up, pulling it on and zipping it halfway. The now cool leather felt wonderful against his skin. He heard load whining coming from the bed, reminding him that he had a job to finish. He walked back over to the bed where the fox was staring at him with those glazed over eyes, his face and torso completely covered in globs of pure white cum. His arms and legs were limp, but still held up by the t-shirt and blankets. Thomas thrust his hand under the pillow, pulling out a gun that looked similar to the one the fox had pulled on him in the alley way by the bar. He inspected it for a moment, and pressed a small button on the side. The laser sight flicked on, and he pointed it at the fox's forehead. Tears were no streaming down the fox's face, and small sobbing noises where coming from the fox's throat. Thomas was glad the fox couldn't do more than make small pathetic noises. He leaned in closely, sniffing the fox's musk, and the scent of his cum, and then spoke. "Boy, you had a lot to learn in life, but you didn't learn it fast enough. Had you encountered anyone else, you might have had survived this night, but you were unlucky enough to get stuck with me. But hey, I told you that fuck would be great, didn't I?" Thomas reached forward and moved the fox's head up and down. "Good, I am glad you agree. Listen kid, I really have nothing against you, but I have a job to do for AEGIS." He stood up and was about to pull the trigger on the weapon, but he lowered it. The fox's eyes were fixed on him. "I was a bit like you once, luckily I got smart fast. You see, I fell in love. Many would say in this line of work that's a big mistake, but I'm alive, aren't I? The first time it's not a mistake, it's a learning experience, but any time after that, you have to be stupid to fall in love. Maybe you were in love with me, I know you were infatuated. So, before I kill you, I'll let you know what those drugs were. A neurotoxin that eats away at the muscular neurons and connections, but amplifies all other feelings and emotions. Best fuck ever, but you are probably feeling more hatred than you ever have before, and now..." Thomas took a few steps back and pointed the gun at the fox's head again. "... and now, in this one instance, you will feel more pain then you have ever felt before... This is for Jason." He pulled the trigger. Copper watched through the scope of his sniper rifle on a rooftop across from the apartment building as the tiger manipulated the computers, most likely copying data. He knew he would have to act now. He zipped up his pants with his free hand, and then tried to shake the cum from his fingers. He grasped the rifle with both hands, and took aim. The grasped the trigger and tried to pull, but his wet finger slipped. It took copper only a split second to try again, but the bullet whizzed past the tiger's head, and he saw him dive under the desk as the monitor exploded. Copper whinnied and ducked under the low wall. He put the gun down and grabbed his cell phone, quickly punching in two numbers of speed dial. "Markus, I didn't get 'im, but we have us a crime scene. Young fox, looks about seventeen, a rape and plunder. I got a few clear (and inappropriate the horse thought to himself) pictures of the target." "Good, I'll be right there. Don't enter the building until I get there." END Goodbye everyone, -TigerShard * * *