A hitman's tears (Part 1)
This is the first in a series. I don't know how long it will be, but hopefully I'll play it out to it's end. Miles Larson is copyright to me, and the Tail Underground is, of course copyright to Mr. Ian R. Soulfox. I really hope he doesn't mind me using his club without permission, and if he does then I'll change the name all quick-style. Of course this isn't set in the universe that Soulfox created, instead I just kinda turned it into a club in down-town San Diego. Hope you enjoy and all criticisms are welcome, good and negative (as long as I can make it into stuff I can use) Thanks for reading!
It was the gloves that always made me feel uncomfortable. Not the rest of the job, just the gloves. I could never quit get the taste of having a dead animal's flesh stretched across my paws. I know, it's a rather strange thing for a hitman to also be a strict vegitarian, but that's me.
I was in a large apartment complex, the type that stretched into the stormy night sky over San Diego. Crawling through the heating ducts I pulled them on, using only my powerful legs to propel me until I had the leather things on. This kill, I told myself, would be my last. I told myself that every single time before I enacted the contract. But this one was, by far, the best paying of them all. Thirty million dollars, which would keep me in tofu for a very long time. Hell, I might even be able to open up that bookstore I kept dreaming about.
I reached a junction in the ducts and pulled out my pen-light along with the floor plans of the huge building. Just fifty feet down the left tunnel and I would be over Kurt Lawrence's home. Lawrence was a crime boss of the highest order. He owned most of San Diego's crime, the type that didn't end in a body count, at least. That was how I made myself sleep at night, I made pretend that the missions I was given by way of a manilla envelope slipped under my door would make the world a safer place.
I reached the large vent over his apartment, which was more of a loft than anything and brought out my screw-driver. I made quick work of it before dropping down into a bathroom that made a Baseball park's men's bathroom look tiny. Pulling out a small knife I pressed my back to the wall next to the door. I caught my reflection in the mirror. I smiled coyly, licking over my large canines that had been filed down as a way of making a statement. I was dressed in a janitors over-alls and had my long red hair tied back into a pony-tail that reached my rear.
"Miles, if you weren't me, I would fuck you in a second." I said to my reflection, drenching myself in my own vanity before my breath caught in my throat. The door-knob was turning and I knew this was the moment I had been trained for. The large tiger made his way through the door. He was wearing a fine Italian suit, only the best for this fucker, which stretched over his extended belly. As soon as he had the door closed I made my move, quick as the wind with my paw over his muzzle.
"Kurt Lawrence, you don't know me but I know you very well. My name is karma, you see and there's a lot of me for all of your crimes." I raised my knife to his throat, as I recited lines that were very familiar to me by now. "You've destroyed so many lives and now I have been sent to destroy yours." He was now struggling in my grasp. Real fear had formed into his eyes, which were now dilated. Even if I was very strong, he's still a tiger and I'm still a fox. If I didn't get this done quickly I would be his next dinner. "Well, I think I've over-stayed my welcome so I'll just get to the point: retribution." With a quick slash there was a fountain where there was once white and orange fur. I pulled away from him quickly, laying him down as I did. He gurgled as he died, either calling for help or issuing threats, both of which would have done him no good.
As quickly as I dropped in, I was back up and into the vent-work, having dropped a line when I leaped down onto the now bloody linolium. Making record time I was crawling through the vent-work and shedding the janitors clothing, stuffing the gloves into my pockets to dispose of later. I dropped down from the vent work into the elevator and rode it to the roof of the building. I made my exit this way for two reasons: It made me feel very cool, and to cut the binds of the poor janitor I had chloroformed to steal his over-alls. He would wake up in about an hour or two with a very bad headache. I was now humming a Siouxsie and the Banshees tune that I couldn't quite place, oh wait...Face to Face, that's right.
I climbed onto the fire-escape and made my way down till I could leap to the next roof-top; lather, rinse and repeat until I got to the last fire-escape which I climbed down to the floor. I was now in street clothes, a white t-shirt that was tucked into tight black jeans with my heavy buckled boots covering my fore-paws. My tail swished happily as I made my way to the night-club of my choice. Ducking into an ally to quickly shred and dispose of my bloody gloves I made my way back onto the streets. Eyes scanning the dimly lit streets, kept that way to add to the coolness factor of the whole area. Being designed by a bunch of yuppie cunts did have it's advantages: I hate bright lights.
I came upon "The Tail Underground" very quickly. It was known as a club and bar for tail-lifters. Ian R. Soulfox was the proprieter; I had never met the man but I knew his reputation for being an outstanding individual, kind-hearted and intelligent, not to mention incredibly gorgeous. I made my way past the door-men, who knew me quite well, and into the dark club. There were sub-dued lights and a live band playing some tasteful tunes.
I strode quickly to the bar and ordered a glass of water and scanned the dance floor for tonights entertainment and came across a young raccoon in a short skirt, a tight t-shirt with long black hair tyed into a tasteful ponytail. I always had a thing for long hair, and tight bodies. Quickly I made my way behind him and placed a paw on his right hip. He looked back at me and smiled coyly and brushed his tail across my muzzle.
"My name is Miles and I love your outfit." I ground against him a little, my muzzle at his ear, whispering hotly into it. He pressed back into me and let out a small churr.
"Well hello Miles." He brought a many-ringed paw back and slide it along my muzzle seductively, leaning back to look up at me.
"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" I raised an eyebrow and brought my right paw to the area where his legs met, rubbing through panties at his concealed treasures.
"No." He smiled and leaned up to kiss me hotly. My excitement grew, the adrenaline I got from the recent kill only doubling as I brought our bodies closer together. His tongue dragged across my lips, then my own as I brought it into his mouth. He sucked on it firmly with his paw sliding up and down along my muzzle still.
He pulled back slowly, letting his lips linger on mine for a moment longer before grabbing my paw and leading me to the bar, where he exchanged a few words with the albino-fox wiping up a stein. The fox took a couple of twenties from the 'coon before allowing us both upstairs. I had never used or been taken to one of the over-night rooms in the Underground but I knew they existed.
My young friend brought me past a smallish panda in a bell-hop uniform and into a room with subdued lighting and soft music playing through hidden speakers. There was a huge bed in the middle of the room and no windows. Off to the right there was a small bathroom with a toilet a sink and mirror. But that was the least of my concerns right now.
My paws were on his stomach as we again kissed, the temperature in the kiss rising rapidly while I lowered him to the bed and onto his back. I pulled his shirt up and off quickly. He wore a bra, while I loved crossdressers I was still confused by the fact that some of them wore bras when there was simply no need, which I took off incredibly fast. He was in a daze of passion, there was a flush on his cheeks as he undid the clasp on my jeans. I was also wearing panties, but no where near as sexy as his sheer thong, which I only pulled to the side as I plunged into his tightness.
He cried out loudly as he dug his short claws into my back, eliciting a loud growl from the back of my throat. I could easily get used to his hole, reminding myself to ask for his number later so that we could hook up again. He pushed back against me quickly as I pushed into him. My long red member disapearing then reapering, the knot the only thing outside of him. He was soon begging for my to touch his cock, that he needed it. His pleas were met with deaf ears as I reminded him of his rude nature for refusing his name.
"It's Danny! Christ Miles...just paw me off...I'm in heaven." I met his pleas at last and began to jerk his smaller cock off quickly, using only my wrist as I pounded quickly in him. Precum was flowing out of the head of his 'coon cock at a rate that told me that he was close. I was near it as well, pulling back a little to make my orgasm ebb before finally slamming home, forcing my knot into him and tying my lover to me as I began to gush into him. He nearly screamed while his own passion washed over him, his semen spurting out over my paw, his skirt and his stomach. His paws were in his hair, tugging at it lightly. I could tell I had brought him to places un-explored, so great was his climax.
My semen began to leak out over my knot and onto the bed. My head was bowed as I growled softly. I was murring in the back of my throat with my still throbbing cock stuck fast inside of him. Danny looked up at me and whimpered softly, "Miles...I haven't been knotted in years."
"I'm sorry...I tend to let myself go when mating like this." My heart was a little touched by what I saw in his face. It wasn't pain, just a deep sadness that belay what I had been witness to so far in his character.
"No, it's not that...I love being knotted, that's all. Now please...lay down on me."I complied as he removed the rest of my clothing. He kissed me tenderly all over my face as we pulled our bodies up the bed slowly and painfully, not wanting to hurt either of us. When finally I was able to pull myself free of him, he hugged me close.
"Miles, what's the matter?" His sadness was now replaced by a well of worry, his dark brown eyes searching over my face.
"N-nothing." There was a quake in my voice. I reached up and felt the tears flowing down my cheeks to realize that I had been crying for a few minutes. It was then that the pain washed over me, threatening to drown me in it's wake.
Danny held onto me for what seemed like hours, whispering softly into my ears and kissing all over my face. It was late into the morning that I finally stopped crying, but that was only because I had sunk into a restless sleep.
-End of Part One.
I know I suck at endings. Bite me :-p