FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

All credit goes to Disney for Zootopia's characters and settings. Please do notsue me and take all of my money. This time I'll actually cry.

Lawful and Indecent

Part Five: The Alluring

Needles and pins seemed to prickle Judy's fur like they were threatening her to move fast. If tight slipknots binding flimsy bunny limbs could tell their intentions, they'd lie and say the victim just ran across a trap. Judy gagged on the truth of it all in the form of her own panties stuffed in her mouth. Her arms were two interlocking L's tied up from biceps to wrists behind her back, her ankles struggling to break from the shackles of her own handcuffs. Hardly anything in sight, her limbs were hot, shaking with rage as she thrashed naked in the backseat of a menace's car, dried sweat uncomfortably peeling her fur off and on the elephant-colored leather seats as she painted every corner with them.

"Stop messing with the ropes, you dumb cunt!" Jared yelled back from the driver's seat. "You're not getting out, and you're sure as hell not getting your clothes back, either."

That's when he reached into a small cubby to the left of him, pulling out her black bra. He cackled loudly as he opened up the window and let it sail into the wind. Lightning shot down her spine as she thumped her feet against the car door and growled in response. Giggling low at the wheel, its driver's head swirled with twisted, ecstatic ideas, his restrained laughter snickering past his lips every few seconds as he felt the angry tumults of his hostage shake the car doors like horizontal thunder strikes. And his putrid eyes staring narrowed forward reflected off of his center mirror ignited a blood-boiling flame inside her heart. Shuffling furiously, she yowled curses into the gag as her nameless image faded and reappeared under the zips of street-lamp light above.

But all she got was a snicker over a liquid drumroll atop the pitch black metal ceiling. It was true: the moment she saw that sadistic motherfucker, it was too late, and the thought of it summoned a pit in her stomach amidst the rage. Her gaze latched upon the speedometer as the needle rotated down the digits, now passing "60", and all that came to mind was the doubt that they were anywhere near a highway. Not with this low amount of light.

A swift left turn, and the car shuddered like a scared teenager, Jared leaving no room to let up on the speed. That is until four seconds later, when the car slammed to a halt, hurling her into the valley between the front and back seats. Her head was too low to see out the car window, but she shuddered to think what she'd see if she could. Instead, her ears folded back across her head, ducking even lower than her prostrate body; pitiful attempt, as the satisfying ka-chunk­ of the door brought a flash of bright, white light glared obnoxiously behind a towering monolith of shadow. Nothing could show his face in this lighting, nor could the features of his clothes. Judy felt ice the moment she saw the figure. Its ears perked like devil horns. But it was perfectly still.

She caught the diffusion on his suit when his right arm moved from behind his back to his pocket: white fabric, brown stain of something on the cuff. The arm drew itself away from the pocket and pointed at her. Bewildered for merely a second, a new ray emitted straight from his arm, seemingly out of nowhere, until she realized it was a flashlight. She squinted her eyes, but made sure not to close them, itching for the details of this encounter.

"You've done well, Jared," he purred aloud sardonically. "I can already see the price tag in her eyes."

A gulp dropped down her throat as the door behind her flew open. New air rustled her fur in a twinge as she felt large hands latch around her hips, elevating her as she cried out more muffled obscenities through her gag. She squirmed in discontent, as her naked, tied up body was lifted out of the vehicle like a toy and bought out in front of a mysterious place.

There was barely enough daylight to make out the details of the entrance as they began to walk her towards it. Her curses yelling through the gag all came out as unintelligible, but one glare from the figure made her stop cold. The night air never felt so cold. They approached the front door like nothing. When they stepped through, the scent inside reeked of every type of sour.

"I figured you'd be a good fit here," Jared chortled. "The people here love your kind. Small chick, big thighs, big ears, tight cunt..."

____________________________________________________________________________

"...purple contacts, two foot seven, sexual deviant...." Nick mumbled as he shuffled through the freshly developed yellow case report, muttering his last spoken readings inaudibly as he lowered it to his lap and stared into nothing. "Wow. Right down to the dot."

Wolfard side eyed him from the other side of the passenger's seat, fidgeting with a mechanical box with knobs and two goofy antennae jutting out the top. A curious looking dot flashed in the rhythm of the circling green beam of light overlapping it. All the notches of his face were visible in the mechanical, yellow light above them flaring out the tan seats, black rubber borders around the closed windows. It was clear that he was suppressing anger with a demeanor of frustration, but Nick hadn't looked him in the eye since they got in the car an hour ago. Though he wanted to respect his privacy, Wolfard gave him a judgmental look.

"Read that last one over again," he suggested grisly.

"I just got way too excited," Nick admitted quickly, finally deciding to give him a side eye. "We don't need another eye on my dick, we need an eye on the radar."

Wolfard sighed. "There's not even another turn for another six miles."

"Just do it," Nick urge, eyeing him, "trust me."

The bewildered wolf traced his eyes back to the green-pulsating screen glowing faintly in his face, naturally sulking his shoulders in response as he sighed deeply.

"God dammit, Nick," he sulked, "it's gonna take us years to clear this rep...."

"I'm not apologizing for this mistake again," Nick quipped. "I could spend all night doing that, and you'd still never forgive me. Let's just burn the bridges and stick to the plan for now."

"No, you don't understand; there is no bridge to burn," Wolfard confided frustratingly. "Why would you think this was a good idea?"

"Maybe you need a different wording," Nick defended, lowering his face. "Picture this: you've spent the past three days humiliating yourself, all you wanna do is slink away and forget about the horrible situation you're in, until one day, your girlfriend snaps a leash to your neck and tells you to cum for her. Now mix that with the promise that we'll catch the number two most wanted criminal in Zootopia at the same time. Who am I to say no?"

Wolfard scoffed and shook his head rapidly in frustration, clearly disgruntled by that statement.

"I swear on my life, Nick," Wolfard grumbled without looking at him, "if you get a single newspaper to take that story, I'll do every one of your shifts double time for a year."

Nick sighed and stared straight ahead to the seat in front of him. Then, he crossed his legs and put his arms behind his head, groaning out loud as he stretched himself out.

"Wouldn't be the first time I made the front page," Nick shrugged, deadpan.

"What am I even supposed to say to that?!" he snapped at Nick. "She could be dead by now!"

"Carrots is okay," Nick assured him, leaning forward. "What you and I should be worried about is whether or not Jared changed his game plan by now. I'd rather have a bunny on the auction block than the chopping one."

Wolfard's eyes bugged out in shock. "They're gonna sell her?!"

"I'll explain the rest when we get there," Nick assured him quietly, palms lowering to signal him to cool off. He pointed at the radar. "Just don't miss the turn."

Wolfard peered back at him, as if to see through his eyes and read the wrinkles of his brain. But it was only for a moment before he nodded and averted his eyes back to the device.

"Nick...," Wolfard finally mumbled, glaze-eyed and shaken. "Can you please tell me where Judy is? I'm...really nervous."

The nude fox took in a long inhale through his raised nostrils before speaking again:

"Let's just say she's at a very, very dark place with lots of colorful lights and plenty of alcohol," Nick cooed. "Think of it like Christmas Eve."

Wolfard blinked. "But it's not at all like that, is it?"

"Nope," Nick said. "It's, uh...a strip club."

"A what?"

"Not really."

"Oh, thank g-"

"It's an underground strip club that only allows people with a harsh criminal record inside."

The grey wolf instantly slammed his face into his radar, groaning into it while it daintily beeped below him.

"I need a break from this job," he muttered agonizingly.

"That's phase one," Nick affirmed. "How'd you like to be my agent for the night?"

The confusion and disdain in Wolfard's eyes was as palpable as the shade of Nick's request.

"I'm listening," he admitted at last.

"Okay, there's only two ways to get in that club," Nick explained. "You show enough scars, or you show enough ass. So from now on, I've been doing all of this on purpose, and now, I'm trying to look for some new work. All you've gotta do is validate me. Got it?"

Wolfard shook his head. "There's so much wrong with this...first of all, everyone's gonna know who you are."

Nick nodded. "That's the idea. Everybody assumes I've gone rogue again."

"Yeah, but you were still once a police officer," Wolfard said, "isn't that gonna set off a few alarms?"

"If there's one thing you should know about these guys," Nick stated, "it's that once you set foot in this place, they all expect you to come back eventually. And this time, I'm coming back with an agent. Just fake it 'til you make it."

"What?" Wolfard asked, reeling back. "How are we supposed to do that? Am I just a master at improv now? What is this?"

"You don't need to be," Nick smirked, suddenly reaching into the case files and pulling out the pink condom from earlier. "See this? I found it at the crime scene at the tunnel. Nobody's got one of these except the guys who go all the time. And tonight, it's your business card."

Wolfard's mental and physical states were both in absolute disbelief. He had to look away from the pink wrapping into nothingness just to take in all the new information. The wolf shook his head, and Nick was beginning to think he looked a little too crazy.

"This is a lot to take in," he protested. "Why do we even need to do this? We can't just call for a bunch of backup and breach the place as usual?"

"Oh, no no no," Nick giggled. "The last thing you want to get out of this is a band of sixty something horny, angry dipshits up your ass because you decided to be a hero. Choke points, armed gangs, security: the second you step in, you're playing by their rules. So, instead, we're gonna walk in there, take what we need, and leave."

"And this is our only option?" Wolfard asked.

"Yes," Nick nodded.

Wolfard couldn't stop shaking his head. "I still don't think I can do this...shouldn't we just let chief make the calls? Polish out the edges a bit? You know?"

The fox let out a long sigh.

"All right, listen," Nick spoke earnestly, leaning into him. "Do you remember that one time we played drunk charades at the Halloween party?"

"Yeah...," Wolfard droned nervously.

"And we were down six points, so you taped two can openers to your head and started growling at all the women?"

"Uh huh...."

"That was the funniest Chief Bogo impression I've ever seen."

"Nick, I don't-"

"Ah, ah, ah! And how many people got it?"

"...Zero."

"Bingo! You're a master of disguise, and you don't even know it."

"Nick, this isn't anything like...."

"I know, I know, the point is, you've done 'Good Cop, Bad Cop' before, so let me ask you this: Who's to say you can't walk around a strip club of drunken idiots with a pen and pad as mister mumbo jumbo for a little bit while I do all the dirty work? Hm?"

It made him sulk a bit. "I think the chief would be a lot smarter about this...."

"No, no, you're the smart guy," the fox pleaded passionately, leaning his head even closer to him. "the chief is the dumbass here. Because you're the guy who's gonna pull this off. You've got the brains, the looks, and I know you've got the guts. Best of all, you're gonna be the only sober guy in that entire room. You wanna save Carrots? Then just do what you did before, and you'll make the chief proud."

"But-"

"_The chief. Doesn't. Have. To know. Shit. _You're our only shot."

The feeble wolf paused for a short amount of time, locked in Nick's serious gaze. But he knew he'd be a fool to argue.

"You know, it's really weird when you give pep talks all naked like that," he said at last. "Did it make you hard?"

Nick's face lowered. "Oh, god damn it, Wolfard-"

"No, like, I'm actually really fuckin' curious," Wolfard craned his neck to the left to look at the fox's penis. "Does it curve upward or is it a sideways sort of-"

"Just take the job!" Nick barked, covering his junk with both hands.

"Fine, fine, okay, I'll do it!" the wolf disclosed, looking back to the radar.

"Thank you," Nick replied hotly, gently bowing his head with a slight grin.

There was a moment of silence between them as he shuffled back into his sitting position. He dragged a couple claws gently across the fur of his thighs as he thought of the words for his great plan. There wasn't much time, but now was a good enough time for a breather. His head started for the window to his right, but then shot to the front when they heard the driver speak.

"You know, I'm not a misogynist," Bogo grumbled, "but I do have our contract in case you tell that story ever again."

"Uh, no problem, boss!" Nick stammered.

"Next right, please!" Wolfard followed up.

"We'll pretend this never happened," Bogo growled darkly, his annoyed scowl visible in the mirror above his head.

A tough snort escaped his barreled nostrils before the car swerved off the concrete and onto a new path, barely hidden between a large dumpster and a group of trees. The road they traveled down was cracked and broken from years of neglect, sending constant tremors into the floor. Nick flinched and held his dick down, grasping his fingers around his scrotum. Wolfard could barely contain his amusement, but it was drowned out by all the thudding.

Nick impatiently stared outside, anyways, familiarizing himself with it. The radar beeped frantically in the background, but they didn't need its help anymore. Though there wasn't much to see, he kept his nose to the air for the moment where there would be. Past all the graffiti covered concrete walls and run-down one story buildings would hide the answer he was looking for. All he needed was that one signal. That one beam of light cutting through the endless shade of poverty barricading the destina-

"There," Nick said urgently, at the first sight of it, reassuring that the anomaly to his right peeking out between the leaves was the right way to go: "Stop the car."

The engine calmed in the span of the next four seconds as the three of them lurched slightly forward, stopping in the dead of night. The instant Bogo killed the ignition, Nick unbuckled himself and opened the door in one motion. The cool air made for decent inertia as he reluctantly stepped outside. Now that he was in the open air, he could see it clearer: the white house not too far in the distance, its pampered up front side visible within the lightly cyan-saturated fluorescent lights hanging down from the roof trimmings. Two blinded-up windows glowed from either side of the quaint looking wooden door, contrasting grossly with the strange undertones that he couldn't quite make out.

As Wolfard exited the car, keeping his badge inside, it was clear that he couldn't decipher it, either. From the surface it just looked like a normal house. But Nick didn't budge. This was definitely the place. And right before he beckoned Wolfard to walk with him towards it, the chief stopped him:

"Wilde," he called. Nick looked back to the chief as he held up a walkie talkie to him.

"Say it again, Officer Clawhauser," he spoke, then held down the button. His distorted voice sounded:

"Hey, Nick!" he cheered excitedly. "Just got rid of your page on the Z.P.D.'s website! Now, be careful in there, okay?"

"No problem, Clawhauser," the fox replied as the chief put away the device. He lowered his head and grunted out a sigh.

"Had anyone else suggested this ridiculousness, I would have fired them on the spot," the uneasy bull murmured to him, "so you better know what the hell you're doing."

"Don't worry, I've been here before," Nick mused, "We'll be in and out before you know it."

Then Nick turned away after a subtle wave and began his way towards the building, trying to avoid stepping on any sharp edges in the concrete walkway. It wasn't easy at all. At least having Wolfard at his left side to support him was enough to convince him it'd be alright. This wasn't a one man show to run, but if he had any chance at all of getting Judy back, he'd have to make it that way. And so he inhaled a huge gulp of breath through his nose, that petroleum-nipping air making its way to the tremors he felt inside, then let it all go out his mouth. He repeated this again and again, slower as they approached the lit barn.

They hadn't noticed how much louder those rhythmic undertones from earlier had gotten, but it was much clearer from just the first few light gray concrete steps to the threshold of the oak brown, curvy-bordered door. Knock-knock went his brown fist at the door. which Wolfard raised an eyebrow at, in uncertainty. Truthfully, a part of him was cringing in fear that he was about to trigger a tripwire and leave them both in a bloody mess. Nevertheless, shortly after the door opened to the sight of a mid-thirties looking raccoon peeking his head around the corner, whose scraggly grey hair clashed grossly with the neckhole of his stained yellow shirt. His eyes were crusty and bloodshot like he had just woken up, and the movement of them inside a bubble of black fur made for a clearly broken look.

"O-oh! Welcome to my humble abode!" the chipper raccoon announced. His voice was as high and shaky as he was. "Nothing to see here! E-especially not downstairs! So if you're here to bust me for all the...um, special substances I have in the back of my room...which does not exist! - Then you may be on your way!"

"Easy there, Jeffrey, I'm just here for work today," Nick soothed, his palms out as he jeered a smile at him. "Will ya let me and my agent in?"

"N-not looking like that!" Jeffrey pleaded, pointing at Wolfard's suit.

"I told you, it's just my agent," the fox soothed again, gesturing his faker, who was now holding the pink condom up in front of him. "The cop suit's just kinky shock value. So far, it's been workin' like a-!"

Jeffrey's hand whipped around the corner to flash the barrel of a pistol, glimmering its clean silver like a finger pointed straight at its victim. Both pairs of hands shot up.

"Empty your pockets!" he commanded. "Now!"

Wolfard's hands frantically swept through every pocket of his clothes, spilling flurries of lint as each piece of cloth pulled beneath the surface proved that he wasn't about to pull any funny business. Through the whole process, Jeffrey darted his eyes uncomfortably between the naked fox and the bare wolf, his judgy eyebrows twitching like hell. Sometimes his eyes seemed to trace off into nowhere before refocusing back to Wolfard. But when his gun hand lowered, they were sure they had convinced him, as he visibly loosened his grip on the door as it almost seemed to creak further open on its own.

"F-fine...I believe you," he squeaked. He opened the door all the way, and the noise coming from inside got a little clearer. "B-but if you're about to try something stupid, you better do it somewhere else!"

"Oh, come on, man," Nick shrugged, "that's what this place is all about! I'll see you inside, okay?"

The raccoon stood still, glaring at Nick like he was a moving brick wall as he and Wolfard passed by his side. They were left to walk a hall of plastered with holes and peeling wallpaper, decrepit and stinking an unfamiliar stench. All other rooms were vacant and easily ignorable. Especially when the obvious wooden door that lay to their right at the end of the hallway marked their next move.

Nick pulled it open to a downward, cemented staircase that seemed to be the width of a truck and the steepness of pure insanity. The only thing that lit them up was the faint, but distinct rainbow flickering lights scattering about. Looking outward, the two could see the end of the steps dip beyond the overpass of the ceiling. Their cautious steps felt the small pulses of muffled music as they slowly reached the door. Beneath the cracks lie the source of the small lighting, and the start of their task. Deep breath, deep breath...then, forgetting all that, Nick twisted the round knob and let it swing open.

In an instant, their ears were assaulted by a wave of dance music, ringing like an arcade as their welcome invitation into the maroon colored strip club before them. They rubbed their eyes, adjusting to the neon rays of green, pink, blue and purple swinging like rabid pendulums across the happening place. When they did, they saw its rows of booths and tables stretch a ways away into the stripper's stage, like an auditorium. But it was truly hard to see its details with all the rowdy customers waiting for their drinks, and all the cute, flustered waiters and waitresses of all breeds serving it to them on shining, silver plates.

Already fanning themselves, the heat was tremendous, but that was only expected from such a packed venue. Nobody would have ever expected this turnout from an outside view. Scattered far into the distance, tables were packed with plague rats, gang rats, stoic bulls, ragged wolves, teeth-bearing panthers, ravens and crows bickering, and one drunk, mumbling pig probably looking for a seat in the bathroom real soon. Between their plentiful seatings scurried the team of waiters and waitresses, all dressed in skimpy, blue clothing; speedos for men, bikinis for women, serving the customers drinks and food on silver plates.

Even from a distance, it was clear the job was overwhelming them in humiliation. Hardly a single one of them walked by a full row of tables without getting at least a finger tugging at their poor attire. The question they had no time to answer was confirmed when a crowd of about twenty started fucking with the three leopard waiters off to the right. Wolfard watched and cringed as their hips swung away from the guys with claws, 'cause the ones who weren't lucky were already getting a finger up in their ass or their pussy, served with a barrage of laughter just to add insult to wardrobe malfunction.

Wolfard sighed...best not to look at that. Off to the left was a wooden table stretched at least twenty feet across, gleaming back the rays with spilled alcohol and broken dreams. Behind it, a chalkboard menu and a wide array of cabinets. The whole thing was run by some poor horse here to entertain the boring felines and brooding lizards sprawled on the countertop next to the horny cocker spaniel bitches in skanky party attire, all of which rolling their eyes, silently scoffing, like they've seen all this shit before.

The two blinked, but only one of them was surprised; there weren't two degenerates that looked the same. One of them, however, stood out from them all. The white mouse was wearing a tunic of shiny red beads, navel showing with a pair of short jean shorts right below him, badge out but not legible from his distance, and - oh! He's right up in their faces, now.

"Mis-tyyyyy!" the man's high pitched voice cooed in vibrato as he practically skated up to the two of them, "Great to see you here, sweetheart! And I gotta say; I love the choice of attire! I mean, I knew you were a slut, but I didn't think you had whored out enough men to show up to work completely naked!"

"Hah!" Nick laughed, shaking his hand. "The last time I heard that one, my boss was a lot less accepting. But, you know, here I am! The name's Nick Wilde. I'm sure you've seen me on just about every social media outlet by now, so let's cut to the chase: I'm here to shake my ass and get you rich. And here's my agent, Dogma."

He elbowed the wolf in his side, and on cue, Wolfard flashed the pink condom from his pocket.

"The cop outfit's just for show," he stated meekly in front of the suspicious mouse.

At first, a pause. A puzzled expression was left on his face. Slowly, like a sloth at the DMVs, his face lit up to excitement, mouth agape, eyes peeled, and finally, a yelp of pure excitement. He was so ecstatic that he actually jumped into the air like an acrobat.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOOOOOOD, you actually came to visit!" he exclaimed. "I haven't been this excited since I worked as a shoe shiner at the construction place!"

"What?" Wolfard asked. "Construction workers don't need-"

"My name is Mr. Zipzap, and I am the HUGEST fan of you two's work!" the manager exclaimed to their surprise, lashing his posh hand from his chin to their hands, shaking each of theirs. Then, he turned back to Nick: "I've gotta say, seeing your ass out every three posts on my wall's got me misbehavin' at work, if you know what I'm sayin'! Tell me, babe, how on earth do you get away with it?"

"Ehh, it's just memorizing police paths," Nick rolled his eyes. "You get used to 'em after you see 'em a bunch of times. Zootopia can't ever seem to patrol two places at once."

"Yeah,' Wolfard added stressfully, "plus, they still haven't really figured out about the sewer thing yet."

Nick nodded and said, "Yep! Personally, I like to call it 'running for a cause.'"

"It's called a hustle, sweetheart!" Mr. Zipzap exclaimed.

"All right, cool," Nick grumbled, face furled, "now, where's the V.I.P. room?"

"Right this wa-ay!" the rat cooed, giving a wide beckon over to the right of them.

The door he led them to looked like a cliche pirate's bay entrance. Though for once, the fox wasn't up for commenting on it. When it opened up, the white light of the dressing room blinded his eyes.

The overexposed room was surprisingly small. It was just a hall with a wide, red curtain at the end, while the right side was adjourned with dressing desks equipped with mirrors, makeup, and lipstick. A small, white box of similar pink condoms lay diagonally across each of them. To the left was just a few ajar sliding doors of closets, which contained nothing but the company's attire of speedos and bikinis.

"Now, here's your station!" Mr. Zipzap crooned, pacing around him. "Be out of here in five minutes! Do whatever you need to do, and remember-"

He whirled around on his toes and put his face directly in his.

"Don't look behind the curtain."

With that, he turned around, smiling once more as he waved a hand over his head, turning open the door and shutting it behind him. Now alone, the duo's faces lowered.

"She's behind the curtain, isn't she?" Wolfard asked.

Nick grunted. "Yeah."

They scurried to the back and grabbed the fabric with all four combined paws, tearing it to the side like a shower curtain as they uncovered the cage within. The moment they saw it, Wolfard's heart sank in unison with the punch to the gut Nick felt. There was no mistaking it was Judy; tied up like a savage in a cubic metal cage. Between its rectangles, they saw her naked, blushing furiously in anger, her body still twitching and struggling in the bondage. Through the cloth stuffed securely in her mouth came a whimper of relief.

"Jackpot," Nick mumbled.

Wolfard pulled a pair of pliers from his belt, aiming for the lock on the cage's door.

"We'll have to make this-" he started.

But when the door swung open again, they whirled around to see Mr. Zipzap's face smirk at the in the entrance again.

"Hate to break the chitchat, but I've gotta make an announcement!" he called. "Some of the guests here are a little upset by your uniform!"

"N-no, it's just for shock value, I'm sure they'll understand," Wolfard informed half-pleadingly.

The mouse gleefully replied, "And here, if the customers get shocked, they chop my fucking dick off! Just dress in one of _our_uniforms for now and leave your clothes in here."

Wolfard was taken aback. "Is...is that policy?"

"It is now, motherfucker, now strip!" Mr. Zipzap called.

He let out a sigh as he placed the pliers in the back loop of his utility belt. Once he did that, he reluctantly pulled down his shorts, letting the belt hit the floor with it. Then, he sighed again and worked off his shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside. He stood in his undershirt and boxers, which had designs of cartoon robots adjourning them. He looked over at Nick and saw his intent stare for only a second before he averted his eyes and quickly stripped the rest off himself. Now completely naked, he bundled all the clothes up and pushed them aside, then walked over to the closet, moping along as he did, and put on one of their dazzling blue speedos from the hanger. Then, he turned back to Mr. Zipzap with a lowered expression.

"Great!" he exclaimed, pointing out to the open door. "Out!"

Gulping in guiltiness, the duo was staring forward like a deer in headlights. Both their tails tucked between their legs and the stiffness of their walks signified the "Oh shit" that was playing on repeat in their heads. As they exited the room, their boss zipped to the right of them in a flash. They looked at each other in equal confusion. But when Mr. Zipzap emerged, their hearts jumped together, seeing that he was holding Wolfard's uniform, belt and all, over his shoulder. And before they knew it, their new boss slammed the door behind them, leaving three very mixed emotions on the bar floors.

"Such a nice uniform!" he whistled, caressing the blue fabric. "So authentic!"

As Mr. Zipzap put the key away, he turned and saw Nick again, eyeing up and down his naked body.

"What?" the fox asked impatiently, shrugging his arms. "Don't I get one?"

"Nnnope!" the rat replied excitedly. "You are our very special guest, and I think it would only be fair to let you do the whole shift _just_like that! Think you can handle it, tough guy?"

He gave him a punch in the shoulder.

"Well, you locked the door behind me, so-" Nick started.

"I knew you'd understand!" Mr. Zipzap responded aptly while he instantly grabbed Nick's flaccid cock and shook it like a handshake. "Plates and drinks are over at the bar! Have fun!"

With that, the erratic boss let go and practically skipped away into the maroon atmosphere, neon lights flourishing his white fur as he found his way to another pirate's looking door across from them. The last thing they saw of him was Wolfard's blue police uniform flowing in the air behind him.

"Okay...," Wolfard mumbled abashedly as he covered up his uncomfortable crotch bulge, "how fucked are we now?"

"Not at all," Nick breathed. "We just have to do some dirty work. There was a key on that lock. We've gotta find that key and then get back into that room pronto."

"You think the manager's got it?" Wolfard asked.

"No, he doesn't seem too keen on the jailer role," Nick mumbled, eyeing the premises. "The only person who'd make sense to have the key is...."

His pupils dilated the moment he saw him. Back to the both of them, the massive beast was trudging his way down the aisle between two rows of booths, the width of his torso nearly taking up all of its available space. Lazily peered down every table like a starving insomniac owed money, he chewed on a cigar and glared at any waiter who wanted to remind him of the "No Smoking" rules. Passing them off, betwixt the crowds, his hip shifted, and there flashed a metal ring on his side pocket of seventy-something keys that jingled inaudibly amidst the nightclub commotion. In the next second, it was gone behind the crowds, and the muscled man went oinking and gruffly sighing as he went.

Nick's face dropped. He was all too familiar. Then, he slapped his face.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," he groaned.

Wolfard's eyebrows furled, as if his expression would cover up the fact his face was turning two shades redder.

"You ready to call for backup yet?" he asked impatiently.

"We're still in this," Nick urged. "You wait here while I sneak up behind him and-"

"Oh, Nicholaaaas!" they heard from their side. Turning to it, the first thing they saw was the bright face of Mr. Zipzap speeding up to their place. The next was the contents he was holding; in his left hand, a circular tray of wine bottles, and in the other, a strange, velvety red band that resembled an oversized headband.

"If you're gonna be a part of our team, you're gonna need this on your hand," he said to Nick as he passed him the plate, followed by the band, "and that around your thigh! Any tip you get goes onto there."

Nick was surprised. "These guys give tips?"

"Well, it's not common, 'cause you know how they are," Mr. Zipzap grinned. "But maybe someone like you could convince 'em!"

Visually baffling the curious fox, the rat backed up and smiled brightly again like a kid who won a toy at a carnival.

"Now get out there and give daddy what he wants!" he exclaimed.

The fox hesitated, so he reached his hands around to his back and pushed him out into the hallway of customers waiting for a drink. But before he made his way through the crowds, he looked back at Wolfard. They made eye contact, and Nick shot him a look that said, "You got this." But he wasn't having it, giving him a slight shake of the head, "no" before Nick was forced to walk away.

"So, Wolfard, is it?" Mr. Zipzap crooned over to him, hands together towards the floor. "Tell me about yourself. How'd you get in the business?"

An awkward smile forming across the nervous wolf's face let through a couple giggles from his chattering teeth. But anything more would blow his frail attempt at disguising himself.

"Um," Wolfard paused as his head whirled anxiously around, "internet?"

"I take it you mean the dark web?" Mr. Zipzap asks, beginning to circle him. "You'd have to dig pretty deep to find someone this crazy."

"Uh," Wolfard stammered again, hesitating, "yeah, the DARK web! That's where I got 'im. I sure don't play around!"

Wolfard then bared his claws out like he was going to attack, teeth unsheathed from under his lips. But the rat's admirable, guttural laugh made clear he wasn't phased. It made Wolfard put his sharp things back and blush a little harder.

"What's your website, then, cutie?" the boss asked. "Should be no surprise I haven't seen a nine like you on the onion, hmm?"

"Oh, I get it," he chuckled, "it's a Tor browser joke."

Awkward.

"Well, why don't we take this to my office?" Mr. Zipzap suggested, his arm wrapping around his shoulder. "Maybe you'll be a little more comfortable."

"No!" Wolfard quickly responded, panicking. "Uh, no, it's just...this is an impressive...sanctum, a-and I'd love to stay out here for more time...y'know, just to get a feel for the atmosphere."

"Say no more!" the rat happily responded, turning him towards the bar of drunken thugs, who looked back with sneers of resentment and mangled lust. "First I'll introduce you to all my boys at the tavern! Spoiler alert: we've all gotten dirty with each other in the back of a police car!"

Wolfard groaned in the back of his throat as he approached the brothel. One spit on the ground. Another yelled curses at a TV screen that wasn't even on. This was going to be a long night.

____________________________________________________________________________

Nick's thighs felt weak and light as he walked down the aisle of snarling guests. The wine bottle atop the platter tipped and slid like jumping beans. His fur grew thick from the condensation of sweat, heat pounding on his senses like the constant thud of bombastic beats. And as it doubled up with the chants of horny criminals tossing cash to dancing tramps onstage, they all seemed to blend together like one rhythm. It was like listening to a weird avant-garde piece. The first time won't line up, but give it a few more listens, and it all begins to make sense. Then, baptize it in alcohol.

Thankfully, it also seemed to drown out any thoughts of the past that may concern this. Their reaching fingers that caressed his naked fur every now and then helped with that, too. Losing track of all the reactionary moments of stares with the groping guests, there was still a little bit of time to breathe. All he had to do was get some refills. And as he took another breath, a voice from the side of him gave him his first job.

"One more down the hatch from the naked whore across the hall!" a panther sitting to the right grunted across the table, sounding extra gruff with the bang of his glass against the top. "Yeah, you, bitch! Over here!"

Of course he had to do it from across the room. The naked fox had to endure yet more shaming, bleating laughs and mocks from the nearby hyenas as he walked past another two table stretches to reach him. When he got to the table, the panther had an evil smirk across his face. Nevertheless, Nick popped off the cork protruding from the top, and tipped it above his wine glass. As it filled with pink liquid, he could see the scratch marks left from the scrapes of his claws across it.

"Looks like somebody already got 'im!" bellowed a donkey across the table before laughing so hard he made his belly jiggle. "He's servin' us all nekkid!"

"Ayy, easy on the alcohol, I gotta drive home tonight," the panther growled before pointing to the four other guys at the table. "I'm Xavier. This 'ere's my gang. Say hi to Tony, Robert, Donny and Fries."

Nick's eyebrows furled and thought, Who the fuck names their kid Donny?

"Say, you look familiar," mumbled Tony, an eagle whose right eye twitched from a coagulated scar. "Ain't you supposed to be wearin' a green bikini in this place?"

"Heh, you're probably thinking of Misty," Nick chuckled. "Not even the same gender. What kind of guy would wear one of those, anyway?"

"You'd be surprised!" Donny bleated in a southern accent. He jutted a finger at Robert with eyes that looked like he's smiled at a couple corpses. "Tell him 'bout the time you went to Vegas!"

"Oh, shut up!" Robert growled back at him with his sabertooth teeth. "I told you that never happened!"

Nick smirked at him. "Yeah, it did."

All four of the guests howled at the table after that while Robert stood there scowling down them all. But once they calmed down, he was surprisingly ready to talk again.

"She was a prostitute in this place here last time," Robert growled, scratching his golden mustard fur. "Nobody has sucked more dick than her. Nobody."

"Y'know, I could see you in the same business," the buff panther mumbled, now beginning to eye him up and down.

Why would anyone think I'm a prostitute? Nick wondered. That doesn't even sound like something I would do.

"Not sure if I'd ever try," Nick replied. "It's a hell of an expectation."

"'Tell you what, kid," Xavier grumbled, "I like a little spice in my cup, if you know what I mean. Why don't you jerk off into it?"

The instant the last word left his lips, the rest of the table groaned out loud in hilarity, Fries and Tony slamming the table in excitement while Nick felt the tumult in his stomach as true as the heat on his skin. He grimaced in disgust, but he didn't let it show too brightly. One complaint to the manager, and he was done for. Yet, still, he was far too cunning to accept.

"I'm not doing that shit," Nick sniveled at Xavier, "so you better ask one of your butt buddies, instead."

The panther smiled, much to the waiter's surprise, as he reached into his pocket for his wallet. He opened it on the table and poked a couple fingers inside the compartment. When he pulled them out, Nick flinched. Leer back, double take, but it was definitely true: that was a fifty dollar bill on the table. Xavier sat back and gave him a scowly smile.

"We got a tough one!" Xavier beamed confidently. "'Tell you what. You cum in this drink in the next three minutes, and you get the money. If you don't, I keep it. How's that?"

For a guy who looks like he wrecks the market on the daily, he sure meant fucking business. And such a daring offer, too! Certainly better than any tip they could have given him. But not smart enough to consider the consequences. It's a good thing he didn't know who he was dealing with.

Nick smirked back at him, then set the platter down on the table. "One cum cocktail comin' right up."

The whole table hooted for him while he reached a hand down to his crotch. He took the wholeness of it in his palm and started fondling with his flaccid penis. He waggled it around in his fingers and squeezed the tip while the onlookers started to lean in. Tugging and pulling on his meat, he even managed to catch the attention of the hyenas from a couple tables away, who started laughing at him again. Though, the stress of public embarrassment was of no effect to his hardening cock. As it grew longer, thicker and stronger, his eye began to narrow in a half-wink, lips taut slightly while his growing passion for an orgasm clouded his vision. His face was flushed and focused. The harder he got, the more he was teased:

"Oh god, he's actually doing it!" he heard Fries scream. Most of everything else was just laughing on Xavier's request and whatever else was going on at the time. Some of them were even catcalling him in a jumbled mess in the incredibly chaotic moment.

The lewd fox on display tried his best to ignore it and kept stroking his length, now at a full nine inches above the glass. Desperate to cum, he bucked forward into his own hand and let a couple whimpers escape his muzzle. No one ever heard them because the commotion was so loud, so it was assumed he was safe. Safe enough to let his load free as he felt his shaft harden to concrete.

"Aa-aaahh!" he cried ecstatically. While the table hooted ironically, spurts of hot cum were sailing from his dick and splashing into the far side of the glass, rolling into the liquid that filled it. Satisfied and pleasure-hungry, he rubbed his fingertips over the enticing, wet sting of his dick head, watching the drink intently. The hang of his penis next to the swirl of white substance in the pinkness was like a banana split. He had done it.

Xavier looked between him and the smartphone he was holding, which displayed a stopwatch app just barely passing the "1:55" mark.

"I'll be taking that," he teased, leaning in to take the bill.

From there, he stowed it on his thigh band, retook the platter of wine, and turned to walk in the other direction. Little had he paid attention to the clamor he had caused. From the closest group to the furthest booth, nearly the entire stretch of guests were now turned towards his directions, eating him up with their starving glares, all eyes to his dick in plain sight.

There was hardly enough time to even comprehend the attention before he felt a tug to the right on his tail behind him. He turned around to look at the face of a surprisingly innocent looking gray lemur in a tux.

"You just came in that drink for fifty bucks?" he asked.

"Y-yeah-" Nick started. The guy sounded kind of depraved.

"I'll give you a hundred to let me cum in your mouth!" the lemur urged, his voice intensifying. "I need this! You understand?! I fucking need your cock in my mouth!"

He even waved it in front of him face to prove it. The flow of its green under the magenta lights made Nick's eyes pop a little. But before he could even respond, he heard another voice boom across the perimeter.

"Hey, twink!" a rhino bellowed at him in the gruffest voice he'd ever heard. "I'm payin' sixty big ones to plow your ass into the ground right now!"

"Lemme rub his dick for thirty!" a much more nasally bald eagle said to the side of him, raising his money in the air.

"Forty!" shouted a mangled up looking gangster rat two tables across. "And lemme see his teeth while he does it!"

The requests kept pummeling in and in and in, until it became a blend of rampant screams, all trying to top each other. It was nothing short of pandemonium. The bewilderment the naked fox waiter felt nearly swept him off his feet as he traced his eyes around the panorama of raised glasses and dollars in meaty hands.

But as his dick grew harder, he was all too aware of what this all meant.

____________________________________________________________________________

"And that's why I gutted a reindeer for stealing my soda," the rat concluded, setting his glass down.

Wolfard was beginning to reach his limit. Listening to his voice was like hearing a blender in a gutter. As the pale rat eyed him back with a look of disdain and misfortune, there was not much he could regard as a viable answer other than chattering teeth.

"Now, if you've got another seven hours," Butch sneered, lifting up his arms to show the rusty metal hooks pertruding from his sleeves, "I can tell ya how I got these."

"Uh...no, I'm good!" Wolfard faltered as he stepped off the stool. Hands to his speedo, he traced his eyes around the perimeter. He was trying to find a clock to figure out what time it was, but nothing was in his sight. Perhaps it was better if he didn't know, considering his embarrassment had only grown from when he stripped. That kind of heat got to a lot more than just his head; especially when he couldn't even walk two steps without getting approached from the side by the boss again.

"I hope you've been enjoying our clients!" remarked Mr. Zipzap. "Y'know, you could do some of their dirty work, but I personally prefer to do their dirty work."

"Well..maybe it won't...go to that," Wolfard laughed awkwardly, "but...maybe if...it were, uh...one of the bigger guys, it'd make for a real show!"

"Ooh, now you're speakin' my language!" Mr. Zipzap beamed as he threw his arm around him. "C'mon, cutie, let me show you a dick you can't possibly turn down!"

"Uh, great!" the wolf responded timidly. "Great...."

Now, the humiliated cop was looking even further away, leaving an unphased boss to lead him through the gallery of bared fangs, bombastic storytelling and uproarious laughter. Luckily, most of the customers weren't interested in his vulnerable state, for reasons that Wolfard just couldn't wrap his head around. Wolfard turned a corner, expecting all the same looks. But the sound of Nick's incessant moaning was impossible to ignore.

The sight of him in that state provoked a gasp from his lungs. A strange concoction of fury and confusion filled Wolfard to the brim. Stifling it and stuffing it down low, he glared back at the naked, cum stained fox surrounded in bills in the horde of cheering criminals, holding his limbs down to the table while a bull about three times his size penetrated his asshole. The smash of his pelvis against the fox's rump was strong enough to be heard clearly over all the commotion. The poor wolf rubbed his tired eyes in disbelief. But when Nick opened his eyes in his state of bliss for just a moment, it was with eye contact with his partner.

Wolfard mouthed out his words while his boss wasn't looking: What are you doing?!

Nick responded with a subtle shrug and a shake of his head as his dick spurted out cum, and his audience roared in response.

The baffled wolf's mouth was gaping open in distress as Mr. Zipzap turned him right and took him towards the curtained up room. The sign atop it read, "V.I.P.". And the moment Nick watched him disappear behind the curtain, his expression faded into disturbed realization.

"This here is Jared!" Mr. Zipzap exclaimed as he led him over to the white tablecloth, shaded with indigo light like staring into an aquarium. "He's one of my most favorite guests, and I'm sure you two would love to get to know each other!"

The boss sat him down a chair across from him and left in a heartbeat, leaving the two to stare at each other in silence. Wolfard had to gulp back a yipe. The moment that giant pig laid his eyes on the tiny, flustered wolf, his eyebrows furled in disappointment. Wolfard almost felt like he could hear his mind scheming of all the ways to lock the wolf in front of him in a cage right now. The chewed up cigarette butts on the table didn't add much to the first impression, either. Not that this even was one of those.

"Sssso," Wolfard started after several minutes. "Did you try the onion rings?"

"No," he mused back like a septic tank, "but I'd certainly like to wring your neck right now."

Wolfard took a deep breath.

"Look, the taser we used on you, was..." he trailed off, sounding more stressed than ever, "well, it was like a practical joke! Heh heh...you ever been got by one of those hand buzzers?"

Jared seemed to stare back at him like he was some sort of portrait. But it wasn't a glare of ire or sadness. His eyes were as blank as an empty white board, yet Wolfard stared back as if he was a cannon aiming straight as his face. But when he put his hands together and leaned forward, something broke within his guize.

"When I was a little boy," he finally grumbled, "my father was caught in a terrible hand buzzing accident...."

"Really?" Wolfard's eyes widened. "Oh my god...."

A sigh escaped from Jared's shotgun nostrils as he lowered his head further. Wolfard was all ears for his life, listening as close as he could. The club noises began to aggravate him as he leaned in to decipher the low toned didgeridoo that was Jared's voice, but still, he tried not to crumple his eyebrows in focus.

That's when he heard a faint scurrying from behind him. Wolfard whirled around to see the curtain fly a bit from underneath while the crowd wooed outside. The sight of it puzzled him for only a moment. A thump came from his chair leg. He looked down to see his nude, red fox partner on all fours, dripping semen from nearly all sides while he crawled across the floorboards. The sight of him like that shocked Wolfard to the core,but a wink from the fox proved he didn't have much to worry about.

Smirking again, he crawled out of his sight, slipping across the floorboards motionlessly behind the table while Jared continued to mumble his dark story. Wolfard gazed forward at him, trying his best to look sympathetic. He held that pose for a few moments before, yet again, he heard the faintest possible sound of Nick's dirty paws to the left of him.

This time, the fox was smirking a lot more. He had paused to flash the shiny, silver ring of keys in his hand, rocking it from side to side teasingly. Then, he crawled his way under a table behind him, disappearing under its flowing cloth. The last inkling of him he saw was a faint puff of the large curtain he walked through.

"Hey," Jared grunted, making Wolfard whirl back around. "Thanks for letting me talk. That's been on my mind for a long, long time."

"Of course, Jared, it...it must've been a real shocker," Wolfard consoled.

"It sure was," Jared sighed deeply. "Listen, I need a moment, could you just-"

"Yes, of course, sure," the hapless wolf babbled as he ascended from his seat, practically sprinting out the curtain.

____________________________________________________________________________

Squeezing through the last two idle strangers loitering around the tables, Wolfard traced his eyes around the perimeter. His ears perked as he saw Nick fiddling with the lock to their destination. He sighed in relief, thankful that the place was clear of any people as he approached his partner once again.

"Thank god you're okay!" Wolfard beamed at him. "What on earth were you doing back there?"

"He was in the V.I.P. room, he's gotta have access to this place," Nick growled at the keys. "Come on...come on!"

He plunged the next key into the lock, and sighed in satisfaction when it fit perfectly inside. The door came careening open, smacking against the wall to its right as the two of them scurried on in. The room was quiet, aside from some faint music, but the sound of Judy's mumbling became all too clear as they made their way across the carpets.

"I used the fifteenth key to get in here," Nick reassured him.

"Yeah, I gotcha," Wolfard answered as he dropped to his knees at the curtain.

The stressed out fox whirled his head around the room. "Okay, okay, I'm gonna watch the door so no one looks."

"Good idea," Wolfard nodded, continuing to fiddle with the keys.

"We're so fuckin' close," Nick huffed under his breath.

Then he walked back towards the doorway, mumbling the same statement again and again like a tape recorder. Standing in the threshold of the room, he tapped his foot and crossed his arms, trying to look natural. He looked to the tavern...nothing. He looked down the hall of guests...same results. Then he scanned the dancers at the stripper poles just to make sure they were distracted. Despite the silence, Nick's mind raced, praying on two feet that they'd just look the other way for a few more minutes.

And that's when he looked down at his side.

"Misty, I'm so glad to see ya!" Mr. Zipzap beamed up at him, merely inches from his torso. His eyes darted between his thigh strap and his eyes. "Ooh, you've been making bank!"

"Yeah, quite a lot," Nick said. "Look, I'm taking a bit of a break, so could you just-"

"Listen, I've been hearing your act, you're drivin' everybody crazy, yadda yadda ya, so I got thinkin'...maybe you deserve a little promotion!" the ecstatic boss chided. "How 'bout some pole duty?!"

Nick's eyebrows raised as his lips parted. "You're kidding."

"I know, right?!" the boss squeaked, taking him by the arm. "What better stripper could I possibly ask for than you? Imagine their faces when they see the famous naked fox from the vids dancing like a slut on stage just for us! I mean, come on, who wouldn't love to see that?!"

Oh fuck, Nick thought.

"OH, SWEET JESUS!" Mr. Zipzap breathed. "Roll me up in money and call me 'Cocaine Daddy', we've got a show to start! C'mon, let's dance!"

The boss dragged Nick by the arm away from the doorway Wolfard was still fumbling with the keys. His eyes darted quickly between the shine of Judy's vulnerableness and the lock, rapidly shuffling through each key for a winner. His exhales became gruff as each one failed to insert the whole way, hardly noticing what had just happened behind him.

"Mmmmph! Wmmmlfmmd!" Judy gagged aggressively.

Jumping, the wolf turned around, eyes widening as he saw the door of the room shut closed on its own. He stared at it blankly as if a brick was about to smash through the window. But its warped, concave images of customers outside was all that appeared within its glass. Wolfard leered forward, still on the edge...then quickly looked back to the cage instead.

Two keys in...three keys in...stop. Judy's eyes widened in shock. She was the only one who saw the warped shape becoming bigger and clearer in the window.

The sound the door made as it swung open was like an explosion in their ears. Wolfard was startled so badly that he dropped the ring of keys, Judy gagging back her frustration as it clanged to the space just outside her cage. As Wolfard brushed the curtain shut behind him, hiding her once again, he looked forward at the two figures now standing before him; one of them, thin, arms together behind him, and the other one, wide, holding the Zootopia officer's uniform like a towel in a single fist.

"Wolfard, is it?" Zane's chilling voice hummed. "Let's talk."

Jared couldn't fit through the doorway, but there was no need for his help. The moment Zane had approached the shivering wolf, he took his hand like a gentleman and led him straight out of the room. Behind the curtain, Judy heard their footsteps thump out the door and end with the sound of it closing, leaving her alone, still in her state.

But she didn't grumble this time. Because as soon as they were gone, she had slipped a wrist out from beneath her ropes. Then another. Then her legs. The rope fell to the floor and was promptly kicked away. Now freed up, the first thing Judy reached for was the panties inside her mouth, pulling it out, then grunted in frustration as she tossed the tattered remains to the side. Next, she reached an arm through the cage and clipped the ring of keys by a fingernail. A smile formed across her face. Then she pulled it on through and started working on the lock, herself.

____________________________________________________________________________

It was as if the tremble Nick felt through his torso was transferring to his footsteps as he shuffled across the catwalk. No dazzling curtain entrance or announcement of his presence was needed; everybody knew damn well that he was there. In fact, he got a couple hands on his ass helping him push up to the stage in the first place. Not that they hadn't been there before. Nick's nerves inflated through the hall of hollers and cat calls, but it was nothing he hadn't heard before. What mattered more was that he'd never pole danced before. Gulping, he breathed slow, scratching a claw across his skin to make sure he wasn't turning to feathers. No? Keep moving.

Surreal and nervous, his cloudwalking only brought even more rampant cheers as he approached the pole. He'd have to look up from the ground eventually; a lesson he learned far too well as he finally arrived at the circle containing the stripper pole.

The spotlight was warm and tight on his body, but at least he wasn't the only one there. Stationed to the furthest right stripper pole, he looked and saw three others to his left. Not much could be seen from his place. In fact, finding Wolfard would've been like playing Where's Waldo with a flashlight. The blend of bottles clinking and chatter brought a light feeling to his mind, so he fastened his hands securely around the stripper pole.

He tried to sway once, but felt something strange. Like he had become suddenly unsteady. Nick looked above and saw what the problem was: the pole was looking loose at the top of the ceiling, barely attached by the crude infrastructure around it.

He breathed softly when he noticed it, but managed to keep up a smile as he swayed back and forth. If anything would get him out of this, it was for Judy. So he thought of her good and hard.

Come on, come on.... he thought. Just...do what they do in porn.

In a moment, he closed his eyes, and exhaled all his doubts out. Then he lowered himself in a squat, swiveling his hips, letting his body give way as the commotion rose. Luminant and slick, the slim, naked figure of Nick Wilde wriggled his ass for the cheering audience that had just fucked the shit out of him. Fluid and focused, his masculine body was bending in ways Nick never thought he'd do.

He didn't know how he was doing it. Maybe it was beginner's luck. Perhaps he was learning as he went. But the reception was clear: he was stealing this show. Knocking it dead. The cheers filled from every corner of the bar. It took several minutes for Nick to even notice.

What? Nick thought, opening his eyes to the stage. Oh...oh my god....

Before him was like a dream: the whole stage, littered with dollars, thrown directly in his direction, some fluttering to the ground, the rest piled at his feet. The warm wash of calm seemed to melt his fur as the bills scattered across him like a snowglobe. A smile creeped across his face. Then it grew brighter in realization.

Damn, they really like me this much? Nick thought. I don't even know what I'm doing....

He almost felt bad about it, but it was all too tempting; he stopped for a moment to slip down, raking up the cash in his arms. For a moment, he forgot he was even onstage. But that only lasted until he stuffed as many dollars as possible on his thigh band. And it wasn't long until his hands were latched to the pole again, shaking his ass for the crowd, smirking towards all the cutest guys.

It was bliss, in the strangest way. Like some sort of gift. But perhaps too much, since he completely overlooked the image of his biggest nemesis and his pig henchman slamming the door closed to their office, with a familiar, shuddering companion by his side.

____________________________________________________________________________

The confused but lucid wolf babbled aimlessly as the door to the unknown room careened into the wall to the side of it. The loud bang echoing uncomfortably into the darkness was a dumbbell to the chest of a shaken Wolfard. Now choking back his words, Jared flicked the switch to let the hanging light bulbs glow violently, casting a glare on the boring, grey walls, and the white streaks of paint across the places where the windows should be. Breathing hard, unsure of what was to come, he flinched at the fat swine hands clutching around his shoulders, dragging him to the nearest possible seat. In the center of it all, a large, oval oak table that nearly covered the entire inside, which he became accompanied to in an instant when he was forced down into the nearest chair to the door from which he came. Shuddering in that seat, he looked back at Zane while he trudged around the table to the end of it, glaring at Wolfard like the menace he was.

As the door shut behind him, he balled his hands into fists and clenched them tight. Deep breaths through the nostrils, trying to ignore the air from the pig behind him, blocking the way of the door.

"Who the hell are you?" Wolfard demanded.

Zane instantly scoffed. "I'm not surprised he hasn't told you. Why would he?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he responded.

"Just call him by his name," Zane growled. "Wilde's been choking back the past ever since he escaped me, and I can feel it in every waking moment. Do you honestly think he's sane?"

Jared grunted like an orc behind him.

"W-well...." Wolfard started, "we've gone through some questionable decisions, but my client is-"

"Wilde," Zane urged intensely. " I'm not asking for this again."

Wolfard's mind was blank.

"Cops are all the same," Zane mumbled. "Always pretending like you're the good guys. 'Cause if you're not, in this day in age, look what happens: one guy takes a video of you cuffing down a predator, for any reason at all, it seems, and your whole life is over. Ruined. Everybody knows, and everybody cares."

Wolfard blinked. "That's just common sense."

"But when they don't," Zane mused, "you'll just be quiet about it. I'll bet you enjoy the ability to lock up anybody you want for free. Any time you want. Then lock them in a dark room. Shine a little light in their eyes. Scare em a bit. That reminds me, you got anything to confess?"

Silence.

"Ugh...," he growled inwardly. "I can't describe how sick you make me. I'm curious, how many hours of your shift do you spend getting off to your hero complex?"

Wolfard could hardly hold back the sneer of disgust in him. "We have a job to do!"

"And so do I," the raccoon sneered at him. "And I put them to work. I start a business off of fools that can't keep their money safe. You lock them up like animals in metal cages and leave them to rot. Then you scream at them for the truth, expecting them to spill it."

"Because if they don't, lives are at stake!" Wolfard spat back. "How else do we keep Zootopia safe?! You expect us to-"

"Do you want to know the truth?" Zane barked. " Do you want to know the fucking truth?! You don't change these people. You never will_under these rules. Chaos can only exist when the men with the power don't know how to handle it. How do you expect the poor to deal with this? Your very _existence_only makes them angrier, and that anger boils all the way up until the day they can't take it. They snap. The sick man robs a hospital for a pill. The poor fellow reaches into another person's pockets. They take _whatever they can get just to fucking survive, and since you're the one with the vest and the taser, that's the moment when you come in! That's when you wipe out everything they've built themselves up to be. So they get arrested, plead, get ignored, then go to prison, suffer, leave, and not two months go by before you're back to hunting them down again - back to waving that fat, innocent finger at us all, wondering where you all fucked up in the first place!"

The pig brute grunted again, this time more heavily, while Zane attempted to calm himself down. A couple deep breaths through the nose and out the mouth seem to drown out all other sound.

"You've come all the way here..." Zane uttered. "Can't you just admit there's a side of you that needs to quit?"

"I'm not the guy you want," Wolfard growled, "and I'll _never_do what you ask me to do."

Zane's body slyly erected as he glared at him with a smirk.

"Of course you're not," he responded, reaching into his coat, "you've already brought him straight to me."

Wolfard reeled back, lightning bolts simmering his spine as he expected the bulge of a pistol, or the metal "shink" of a knife. Instead, Zane's gloved hand pulled out in a balled up fist, puzzling his victim as he strolled his way around the table towards him. The dark markings around his eyes brought out his blue irises, but he always seemed to look straight past him. The man was a walking veil as he finally floated he way to the side of the shaking wolf, opening his palm to reveal what was inside of it.

"What is that?" he demanded shyly, gaining no response. "W-what is it? All I see is a die."

Zane smiled sardonically. "Our little method of execution."

Wolfard stayed silent and still, completely blanking on what to think of it. Zane paused with him as he analyzed his face. Then, he spoke softly:

"Would you like to hold it?"

He didn't wait for Wolfard to respond, Instead, he reached down to the victim's waist and gently picked his wrist up. Then, he slowly hovered it over his own, cupping the cube slightly before he tipped it over into Wolfard's palm. Flinching right when it dropped, he was still frozen in place.

"No tricks up my sleeve," the raccoon promised. "I promise."

Nodding in acknowledgement, the cop cradled it slowly between his fingertips, feeling its smooth vertices, making sure to look at every color on each face. It seemed as though even the outside commotion ceased to exist. Everything had stopped.

"Now, then," the fiend addressed, "why don't you decide your friend's fate?"

As the raccoon lurched the startled wolf's hand forward, he could hardly contain the disturbance in his breath.

____________________________________________________________________________

As the curtain flowed in the shape of a small figure, Judy brushed it aside with a swipe of her arm. Teeth grit, grunting out loud, she threw the undone lock as hard as she could at the carpet to muffle the sound, watching it bounce away on impact. She stretched her limbs as they shook with rage, letting her weary mind race for ways to get back at her captors. In seconds she began to fantasize about giving them a sneak attack to the groin before applying the handcuffs to their wrists and making them go away for a long, long time. Only a few deep breaths later, though, the sounds of the commotion outside caught up with her.

Her heart shuddered. Instinctively, she drew her left arm up to hide the nipples on her small breasts, then covered up her pussy with the other.

They might come back for me, she thought between heavy breaths. But if they don't, then....

It suddenly occurred to her how late in the game it was. The club was packed, and she didn't even know where the boys were. They had disappeared literally before her eyes, and there was no guarantee they were all right. Cold ice chilled down her spine as she considered the consequences. What would become of her if she stayed and they never came back?

She didn't want to know. Approaching the door with caution, her head darted around at every slightly opening in the closets as she walked. When nothing moved, she reached up and twisted the doorknob that stood above her.

The loud music instantly hit her again, and her nerves were turned up to eleven. Peeking her head around the corner of the barely open door, she scanned the perimeter to see if the coast was clear. To her left, a heavy looking door labelled "EXIT". To her right, the entire crowd. None of them were turned towards her...good signs. All of them had turned their attention towards the stripper pole in the front, where a familiar looking fox was slithering in dollar bills for the-

Judy was frozen in awe.

What on earth is he doing?! She thought.

All her frustration took control in that moment. As if her body couldn't vibrate any more, now it was just to hold back her screams of confusion. She double-took the perimeter and stormed out into the open, still covering herself up as she looked up at the stage from behind the audience.

The fox pranced around the pole, smirking and eyeing the audience as his hips swiveled, flicking his tail in seductiveness. As he completed his circle, he looked out beyond the audience for comfort, and got anything but that.

Judy's eyes widened in confusion as Nick tried to hide the shock in his face. He couldn't leave it there, though; he gestured his head to the door behind her for just a second's time before getting back in the groove. She hissed and sprinted to a stool, ducking under its legs, hoping she blended in with the shade. As she expected, several of the criminals looked back in wonder, but found nobody in sight, so they turned back to the stripper. She sighed in frustration and stress as she looked back at the door. Even if she made a break for it, the handle looked far too heavy to be yanked open like that in one go. Her shocked gaze traced back to him for answers.

Nick realized this immediately as his eyes darted back and forth between the stage, the bunny and the door. Then he gazed back at the audience, noticing how mesmerized they all seemed to be. But to him, it wasn't enough. Some had their palms on their chins. Some were getting a little lazy-eyed from the alcohol. Nick didn't want to imagine how hard it would be for Judy to escape with everything leaving. His mind raced as he thought of something quickly,eyes closed in thought...yet, only one solution was clear.

Time for the grand finale, he thought.

Bending back on the pole, his upside-down eyesight led it towards the three other tiger dancers on the stage. His heart throbbed, and he began to feel the heat of embarrassment on his skin again, but for the sake of the heist, he let it all out in one move:

"Hey, sexy!" he yelled at the nearest tiger, who looked back at him with an amused smile. "These guys seem a little bored. You think they wanna see us fuck?"

The audience responded resoundingly while the tiger shot him an opened-mouth look of utter shock. Nick paused, smiling at him like a doll, currently freaking out at the realization of how large the tiger's muscles were. His abs looked juicy enough to squeeze out, and his arms looked like they could lift up buildings. Nick's eyes traced further down the man and saw the bulge of his shredded underwear started to form. He then looked up to see the tiger smiling, shimmying his shoulders while the whole crowd begged for more.

Oh shit, that actually worked, Nick thought frantically.

The bulky hunk closed his mouth as he fast-walked down his own lane, eyes still locked onto that thin, foxy body. Big lumps slammed down his throat as the glittered, purple aura masked the predator's masculine face as it neared his flank. Eye twinkle, lip lick, his clawed thumbs poked on the insides of his underwear in ways that made his bulge look even bigger...especially when he was five steps away from his ass. It all happened in less than a second, it seemed, but the facial expression onto Nick didn't change.

Anything to buy enough time, he reminded himself. But he couldn't deny there was a part of him that found it kind of fun. Thrilling, even. That's why when he gave him that smirk to the audience as he jutted out his ass from the pole, he lifted up his tail with fire to imply that he meant it.

The audience wooed a little louder as they looked beyond the slutty fox.

Ladies and gentlemen, the boxers have hit the floor, he thought snidely.

A meaty, clawed hand clasped around his left ass cheek was followed by a thumb poking at the crevice just to spread it. The feeling of him opening made the butterflies in Nick jump. Not more than a second later did he feel a finger penetrate his hole, slick from saliva as it expertly avoided any claws on tough skin. Sighing in relief amidst the wolf whistles and cheers, he wriggled his butt at him a bit in pleasure. He had no visual proof of it, but somehow, Nick was sure that did the trick.

Nick jumped when he felt a second hand on his ass, both beginning to touch and knead his two cheeks like they were piles of fuzzy dough. It felt good, and the crowd liked it, too, so he leaned into it. His hands were still wobbly on the unsteady pole, but the tiger grabbed him so hard, it allowed for a bit of traction. Suddenly, he felt his right hand lift off his ass, then in a second, back again. It happened again. And again. Nick was pretty sure what was going on.

When he scanned the perimeter, he was sure of it; everybody in this bar had their eyes on him. Servers and bartenders alike had no idea what the fuck they were seeing, but they couldn't look away. A hint of calm patted his heart as he gazed straight to the door in the back. It wasn't clear, but every now and then, a neon light showed a faint, nude bunny tugging at the doorknob above her with her arms fully outstretched.

Good job, Carrots, Nick thought so passionately he almost said it out loud. Keep that shit u-

_ _ A second later, the erection plummeted into his orifice, and the crowd erupted in cheers as his face lit up hilariously in pleasure and pain. _Holy shit! _ Nick decided that guy definitely wasn't stuffing his pants. Those fingers must've shown the practice his asshole has had in the past, because the guy was instantly fucking him like they were best friends. His claws dug into his hips to get a stronger push while his big dick rammed in and out of the poor, sly fox. Nick was already beginning to moan a bit as he guessed the inches this guy must have been. He could feel himself tightening around him, but he never seemed to let up, as the tiger's head repeatedly stroked his prostate, sending wave after wave of pleasure through his veins while he blushed in embarrassment in front of the perverted crowd. The result of all this was an overwhelming state of red hot pleasure roaring through his fickle, pulsing body. He had never had a public fuck like this before, but the passionate from his masculine strokes showed how much he meant it, so Nick took it exactly how he wanted it.

The audience itself was unlike anything he had seen. They were hollering enough to split the ear of anyone in a ten mile radius, banging on the tables, spilling alcohol and shattered glass on the ground. Some were laughing, a few even pointing amusedly at his bouncing erection, but most of them were just amazed at the show. It was hard for Nick to tell. His eyes were stained with tears from the strain of anal pounding, snapping shut his eyes every time his dominator sped up, pushing a little deeper. But whenever they were open, it was always like he was observing a completely different room. The smells of alcohol were mixing as Nick suddenly became aware of the cramped, public heat, like everybody was leaning just a little bit closer...

"Wilde!" a voice from the right of him boomed in a high pitched tone. Nick looked off to the side to see it was the big cheese himself who shook his angry fist as him. "What the fuck are you doing?! You're not supposed to have intercourse onstage! That's reserved for me!"

He was jumping up and down in the middle of about eight or nine buff panthers that were all standing up around his place. It was almost impossible to even make him out. Yet somehow he could still hear the sound of his ass clapping in front of everybody there, and he bit his lip in a puddle of pleasure and mild embarrassment upon realizing it.

Oh god, this guy's making a mess out of my ass..., Nick thought. His eyes squinted open once more to see that the crowd was now so close the frontmen had their muscular arms elbows-down on the money-covered platform beneath him. Their smirks up to him were like they were all planning the same thing.

"Hey, let's help this little twink out!" the crocodile to his right growled.

The buff dude had quickly started a trend when he reached his arm out to grip Nick's balls. Their arms outstretched to Nick's naked calves, thighs, pelvis, penis - anything they could grab, they reached for it. The fox's moaning was only beginning to become louder and more clear as his legs were kneaded and pressed while two hands edged and jerked off his throbbing cock. Nick jolted, steaming, his tip raging with hot pleasure while he whined out a high pitched groan, because as if it wasn't already overwhelming, he was on the verge of collapse.

_Oh fuck...oh god! OH MY FUCKING GOD! _ Nick thought. Only, he didn't think it at all. He wailed it like a fog horn, wide-mouthed, eyes rolling up, but it hardly even contested with the masculine fury of the horny, groping audience. His tiger dom, satisfied at the sight, then began to grip his torso with both hands, fucking him like a king, sending ripples through his ass cheeks. Now Nick's whole body was stimulated in sex, blanking in pleasure on what he was doing this for while he loudly reveled in the gay parade of attention, hardening to absolute steel in a matter of seconds from when they started. Then, with one last squeal of enjoyment, he came hard in their hands.

No...there was no doubt about it whatsoever. That was _the_best orgasm the submissive cop had ever had in his life. His length, jostling between their furry fingertips continued to spurt seed into the audience below while he twitched in tremendous delight, watching it from a letterbox view as hit the guests in the face, clothes, and hair. Then he shivered and hissed when the hands began to massage his overstimulated head, caressing his shaft along with it. But though most of the hands retreated, the tiger above him hadn't let up at all. He wasn't done.

Wailing away at his ass, gripping him tighter, he had no problem leaving more red marks on the surface of the fox's skin under the matted fur to pair with the soreness he was surely feeling inside. Beginning to notice the crowd raise in admiration once again, he started bucking Nick himself against the pole, adding motion to the exciting fuck. Wet slaps over crowd cheers, Nick's cock still dripping cum as it bounced up and down, finally free of the hands, his teeth grit as the tiger shook both him and the pole at once.

Amidst the sex, Nick felt a jolt like something was wrong. A couple chuckles came from the crowd as a few small crumbles of cheap ceiling tiles scattered the ground beneath them. Nick looked up amidst the bucking on his rear. Nope...he wasn't about to pass out. The cracks around its base leading out to the empty tables proved that the pole was loosening up.

Looking out a little further, though, he saw a familiar figure scowling madly in the distance. The shade from the darkness of the club coupled with the tears obscured his expression just enough, but that veil wouldn't last for long. Nick blinked a couple times. A gasp of true humiliation hit him in the face as Jared stared him down with a smirk of cockiness.

Dread.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm caught! Nick thought frantically. Okay, party's over...where's Carrots?

_ _ He looked out again to the door in the back. Adjusting his eyesight was difficult at first, but he made it work. Its handle seemed a bit skewed at first...until he saw it close by itself, right before the grey fuzz of a tiny foot skated by the opening and disappeared in the same second.

Good...now where's- Nick thought, but he lost the train of it when he felt the log of flesh ram even further down his ass. Agh! Dammit! This guy's taking forever to cum!

"Could you...speed it...up a little bit?" Nick complained loudly between breaths. "I've got places to be!"

The tiger's lip lifted in a way that implied a snort.

"Sorry, babe," he shouted, "if all you wanted was a quickie, then you shoulda brought a zapper. That's the kind of shit I like!"

Nick smirked. Then, he whisked his tail up to his hand. Reached out to his side, he grabbed it with one hand, stroking the tightened fur from the middle, then running his fingers over the metal collar around it until he reached its bushier end.

"Whatever you say," he mumbled in anticipation.

The moment he jerked it forward, he set the whole stage ablaze in electric blue. In almost the instant it happened, the dom was cumming like a fire hose into his ass. Nick held his tail in place as he felt his body numb into a popsicle, but the inside of him was a flame as he was shoved butt-first into the pole. Their fur blew out like static implying pain in every category as the dominant electro-fanatic from shoving himself all the way inside of the foxy sub while he screeched unintelligibly.

The audience stood back, mouths hanging open in surprise as the voltage coarsed through both of their bodies, then transferring in brilliant sparks from Nick's other hand to the metal pole. Rope after rope into his ass, cum bursting out of the seams, he felt the muscles push harder and harder on his lower section, until it forced him on his right collar bone into the pole. Teeth gritting in pain, hard metal on his body, the bulldozer was itching to break through....

CRACK!

Nick threw his tail back behind him the instant he heard it, letting it droop back between his legs. The ceiling debris was falling hard like an avalanche while everybody looked up to spot the problem. The stripper pole had been unhinged, and was now toppling down on their heads. All its scaffolding from the top had broken up as it accelerated downward, scattering the people left and right in surprise and cover.

The pole skewed to the right and crashed right in the center of a table, smashing it in half like a ham sandwich and leaving a tectonic plate of vibrations in its wake. Jared was still frozen in place from afar, merely inches away from where the pole had landed, but far too dumbfounded to react at all. Nick saw this opportunity and sprung to action. With all the strength he had, he threw himself off of the tiger's satisfied penis and landed butt-first onto the pole.

"Thanks for everything, toots!" Nick motioned haphazardly to the tiger as he slid himself forward.

Suddenly cool on his matted fur, the semen on his asshole provided a slick enough surface to propel him down the pole. As the wind whisked in his ears, his face, and his eyes, he opened them further, noticing how close he was to landing straight into Jared's fist....

That's when he had to wake up. Doing his best to shake off the electricity, he weaved around the brute's porky fist when he reached the end of the slide. It was still blurry, but the door was straight ahead, and he knew that he could make it in time, had Jared just been distracted by-

"Get off of me, you bastard!" Wolfard's voice yelled as he came tumbling out the door right next to Jared. He was still on two feet, wrestling back the raccoon's arms by the wrists, narrowly avoiding the knife aimed at his face.

Nick wobbled back a bit, dodging a few more fists from Jared, until he hobbled back-first into the bartender's table. There was a bottle right next to him; no further thought needed, he grabbed it by the nose and threw it as hard as he could at Zane's peeking head. Luckily, Wolfard weaved to the left just in time, leaving the raccoon vulnerable enough to take a direct hit to the noggin, leaving him sprawling and cursing on the floor as the glass shattered instantly. As his grip weakened, Wolfard dashed away, holding the glass wounds on the side of his head, zipping past Jared in a blur before he bolted towards Nick. He could tell something was wrong immediately and wrapped a fist around his weak and weary wrist, heaving them both towards the metal door in the distance.

"Fuck! Fuck! Is she okay?!" Wolfard demanded.

"She's...fine, now let's...g-go!" Nick pleaded.

Wolfard was the horsepower towards the exit to the club. Jared was moving slow, and Zane was still on the ground, massaging his head, making catching up impossible as Wolfard closed his free hand around the handle of the door. He tore it open, letting the loud creak resonate far across the club's perimeter.

" NOT SO FAST, BITCHES!" they heard someone yell behind them. Wolfard turned his head and froze in place.

The scared wolf had no choice but to freeze right in front of the door as Mr. Zipzap approached them, furiously stomping while he aimed a fully loaded machine gun in both hands at them. The shine of his grin was maniacal as the red gaze in his eyes. Crazed and seething, the madman jutted a hand out to command Jared to stop moving, pausing to laugh in a way that bellowed louder than anything they had ever heard. The sound of the assault rifle's belt of bullets were scraping off the ground as he goose-stepped towards their position.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Wolfard pleaded.

" I'm gonna shoot my load STRAIGHT IN YOUR FUCKING FACE !" he shouted in rage, bloodshot eyes becoming clearer as he inched uncomfortably closer. "AND BY THE WAY! YOU FORGOT! TO WASH! THE DISHE-"

** ** He was interrupted by a grey blur careening into the side of his face, grunting as it knocked him off of his feet. Once his body hit the ground, the gun followed with it, making a flam with the ground. The two cops stared at his face, seeing he was out cold. Then, they looked to the side to see none other than Judy Hopps loom over his body in disgust.

"That was for your taste in girly perfumes," she spat, then raised a tiny fist. " THIS is for-!"

"Not now, carrots, we've gotta go!" Nick begged as he put two hands to her shoulders, leading her raging, naked body towards the door, which Wolfard had finally begun to open up. As it slammed shut behind them, they could hear the ricochets of bullets buffet against the surface, yet coming nowhere near penetrating it.

In a flurry, the three of them bolted their up the molding staircase like an avalanche towards the crack of light above. Halfway through their ascent, they heard something creak behind them. They panicked, and Wolfard barged shoulder-first into the door above them, leaving the odd cyan light to flood through to the stairwell. Leaping up the last steps, they looked like the gates to Heaven as they whirled to the left. As they made it through, Nick kicked a heel onto the door to let it slam shut, now breaking into a full stride of it own to get to the entrance of the building.

It was a straight shot to the finish line as Wolfard ripped it open, nearly throwing it off the hinges as Nick and Judy darted around him and jumped down the small staircase. The scared wolf yelped as he followed through it himself, ducking fast to dodge a bullet that sailed just above his skull into the door, shutting it behind himself and ran.

At that point, it was nothing but a crazed sprint: "Run! Run! Run!" they kept shouting into the dark woods as the wind seemed to scream in their ears. The stitch lights outside the house only allowed them to see the beginning of the path out, leaving all else shrouded in darkness. The trees were like shadows looming over an already blackened sky. There was nowhere to hide from the bullets they were sure to face, but they sprinted like hell, refusing to accept the fate that was coming to them....

BOOM! The door behind them slammed open, leaving Jared's fat body to topple through, pistol out like a madman as he peered out his targets and loaded another clip into the holster.

"Nighty-night, foxy!" Jared roared chasing them down while he had it pointed straight forward.

"Carrots!" Nick yelled at Judy. "I-"

But Jared hadn't fired a shot before he began to convulse violently. In the darkness, all around them, a flurry of popping sounds, like hearing ten firecrackers at once. The three of them turned to hear his raging screams into the unknown while he flailed his outstretched arms to the side. Random holes began to riddle his body, and the suit he wore began to turn shades of red. With a final whimper, the pig dropped to his knees, then dropped his gun. Then he, himself, dropped to the floor, bleeding motionlessly on the ground.

The trio was confused, but still terrified to run the other way. Nick's back was to the woods as he did, too disturbed to turn around. That's when he felt a meaty hand touch his shoulder, fingers rolling down to his collarbone.

"Figured you could use a little help," Chief Bogo grunted.

Out from all sources of the darkness, in a hemisphere around the house's perimeter, came a brigade of blue figures, all with their guns pointed out, badges shimmering in what little light there was. There were so many of them that it seemed to match the number of people in the bar. But this time, Nick knew exactly who they all were. The Zootopia Police Department had arrived with a vengeance.

And they had just killed the number two most wanted criminal in the land.

"Sayonara," Wolfard mumbled.

"He had it coming to him," Judy nodded.

"Let's just go home," Nick groaned.

____________________________________________________________________________

Three nude cops, one in a speedo, squished together in the back seats where criminals were supposed to be made for an uncomfortable car ride. At least two of them could make it work. Judy was holding onto Nick in a constant embrace, nuzzling her face into his fur like they were cuddling on the couch while Wolfard stared out the window, seemingly into nothing while he let it all sink in. His neck was now bandaged properly, but the sting was still there.

Bogo was silent at the wheel. He had left the rest of the crew to take care of the situation as they kept the dance club at bay. Nick had already informed him about the choke points and their methods of escaping back into the sewers, but he couldn't deny that there was still evidence to find. There wasn't much of an argument past that, so Nick conceded it. That was the last exchange they had, forty-five minutes ago.

Nick rubbed his eyes a bit before he put his arm back around his girlfriend. He thought he was about to doze off right on top of her. In any other state of mind, he probably would have invited her over to his place, got out the wine, ate her out and cuddled her for the night. But tonight, he needed something less perverted. Something like collapsing straight into bed for the night and thinking about something else. The restless fox breathed in and hoped that he could calm down. Then, he remembered one detail.

He reached down to the thigh band full of cash that was still stuck to him. Then, he pressed a button at the top of the car, turning on an overhead light while he held each of the bills up to it. Each time he saw the image in the bills, he let out a gasp. Just as he did it, Judy opened her eyes slowly, staring at him from his thigh to his hands.

"Oh...oh my goodness," she breathed. "How did you get all that money?"

Nick then let out a snicker. "Did you know that strippers get paid more than doctors?"

"Shut up, no they don't," Judy laughed.

"Nah, they do," Wolfard chimed in blankly, still looking out into nothing. "Read it in an article once."

"And you're never gonna believe this," Nick mused, "but so far, not a single one of these is counterfeit."

"You're kidding," Judy breathed.

"Nope," Nick crooned. "Well...so far. We'll see. But, I think I get the picture."

Judy started to giggle a bit, herself. "So, you little rascal, what are you gonna spend it all on?"

Nick smirked and eyed down at her. "My rent."

The rabbit's eyes slowly bugged out. Then, the first smile of the night began to form across her face. A second later, her arms snapped around the fox's torso again while she gleefully laughed into his oblique. As he felt her voice collapse into his fur, Nick finally felt a sense of pride looming over him, strong as a sunrise.

Sunrise...

Sunrise!

Nick's ears perked up. He had just noticed the light was beginning to come back into the streets. The building walls were turning to a serene shade of indigo in the wake of the impending sunlight. It was a color that looked exactly like 6:00 A.M.. The sight of it made Nick yawn out loud, sinking further into his seat as he began to groan.

He did a double take back to the windows. These buildings were becoming more and more familiar by the second. These weren't Zootopian buildings at all. In fact, these didn't resemble any type of markets. It was a line of apartments. Specifically, ones in Nick's own neighborhood. His head tilted, then the car stopped. He turned around to Judy's window side. There, before him, was the calm view of his own house.

"Officer Wilde...," Bogo mumbled. "I'm going to say this once.

He cleared his throat.

"What you have done today," he said, "is the stupidest thing anyone in the Zootopian Police Department has ever done. In fact, I would go as far as to say it was one of the dumbest things anyone has ever done, period. There is no possible way to ever look at this strategy as a serious form of stealth rescuing. So, I don't care if the operation was successful, because by all means, I should be giving you a suspension from this force for the rest of the year, because doing anything else would be complete insanity."

Nick hung his head.

"That's why I want you to take the day off today," Bogo said.

A smile formed across his face as Nick looked up again. Words could hardly expressed his gratitude for his boss at that moment, so none of them came out for a while. Just soft sighs of relief as he finally began to relax.

"Thank you...," he whispered in bliss.

"That goes for both of you, too," Bogo confided at Wolfard and Judy. "It's been a long day for all of us. You've all been heroes today. If I could, I'd give you the whole month off, but we still need all the help we can get. So be back on Friday."

Neither of their faces lit up, but they both nodded in agreement. Then, Bogo turned back to Nick.

"On behalf of the entire Zootopia Police Department...please, get some rest," he suggested.

Nick nodded, then unbuckled his seat belt. He reached around Judy, grabbing on the handle. As he opened it, he shuffled through, then he let it shut again. He waved a hand out to both his comrades. One was looking needy. The other, existential. Nevertheless, they seemed to smile back at him in one motion, both in different shades of approval that was hard to understand.

He stepped back, inhaled deep, and watched the cop car sail into the distance, headlights disappearing into the rising sunlight. In the blink of an eye, it seemed, he was in bed and asleep.