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Cyril

When he comes my first thought is: Holy shit! I'm too busy swallowing to have a second thought. Someone makes a disgusted sound outside of our bathroom stall, and I hear a door slam. I hear it because I'm paying attention. You see this spontaneous blowjob in a public restroom isn't a result of my insatiable libido, or a consequence of the tragically celibate day I've spent with this undoubtedly gorgeous fox. While both of those explanations are plausible, especially considering my lack of any form of common decency, the real reason I'm exercising my most potent of skills is that I'm scared for my fucking life.

The Russian Mafia is out to get me, and I highly doubt that they're altogether happy with the escape I managed yesterday thanks to the fox whose cock I've currently got in my muzzle. He's my mark. I've been using Castor to help me evade the mob ever since I met him at a club last night. The thing that made it possible, easy even, is that Castor's actually a really good guy, but I think he's also the kind of guy who falls in love with anything that he fucks, namely me. I may have been a bit battered and vulnerable last night when the red fox sheltered me, but I'm all back, throttled up, and in conman mode.

I hear a moan above me from Castor. His breathing's still coming in deep, ragged gasps. Apparently, I give mean blowjobs. His paws find my cheek ruffs, and begin stroking there pleasantly. Looking down, he hits me full on with a set of puppy dog eyes.

His tail twitches meaningfully against my chest. "What can I do for you, foxy?"

See nice guy. I always like guys who can think about their lover even after they finish. I can't. My eyes drift down below his dripping shaft to the space between his sack and tail. He's hot, and I really want to fuck him, but I'm kind of preoccupied with the mafia and I can't get it up. Tonight then. I still have to get my clothes back from his apartment after all...

"Nah, this one was about you." It's a good thing I can lie with a straight face, otherwise how would I ever get anywhere in life?

"Thanks. I-I can't believe I just got off in a public restroom." His ears flick back against his head, and I can smell the embarrassment coming off of him in waves. It's cute that he's so innocent. I almost feel bad for fleecing it from him. Actually, strike that, reverse it. I don't feel bad at all.

"Hot as you are you're just lucky I didn't blow you while you were playing piano in the park earlier." Yeah I know I'm laying it on pretty thick, but it's fun to watch the emotions I incite play their way across Castor's features. Here the self-conscious flick of his ears, there the dilation of his eyes when he contemplates the idea and arousal takes hold.

"You're such a tease," he smiles lopsidedly when he says it. For whatever reason I really like his smile, it's infectious, and I return it without really wanting to. I think that I may have developed some kind of savior complex centering on this fox, and it's throwing a total wrench in my game. Fortunately, I've already got Castor following me around like a besotted puppy dog so I could have all the game of an ox and he'd still give me anything that I want, which is what exactly?

"I don't just tease," I say giving his cock a tug for emphasis.

"Cyril," he calls my name as I move from where I'm kneeling to his lap, "thanks for today. I had fun."

I laugh. I can't help it. I'm in a public restroom, sitting on some fox's lap, tasting his cum in my mouth, and listening to him tell me how I made his day. I shouldn't laugh though. It's too genuine, I've got to lie, but looking down into Castor's sea green eyes I can't come up with a falsehood to make up for my slip so I let it slide. Instead I cover my fluster with bluster, and give him a full muzzle kiss.

"Let's go," I say grabbing his paw and dragging him out of the stall while he struggles to pull his pants back up. My ears are up and alert when I open the bathroom door, and I can feel my heart drumming in my chest. This time my whiskers don't twitch in warning, so I emerge and dart down the hallway lugging Castor along behind me like a handbag.

"W-Wait!" he stutters, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," that line's been working on him all day, and apparently my charm is still in ample supply because it seems to placate him this time too. I honestly have no idea where I'm taking him now, but I want to get as far away from the East European goons that are after me as possible. We're out the back door, down the side alley, and across the way as quickly as I can manage without appearing panicked.

Okay, good, now what? My instinct is telling me to get off of the street, but they seem to have all of my traditional haunts staked out. I wouldn't have thought that they'd have the resources to do that, but they must want me really badly. Not that I'm surprised, I mean duh I'm awesome who wouldn't want me. Look at Castor, he doesn't even know what I'm capable of and he's fully in my thrall. The problem is that once you start hacking for the mob you can't get out. I like my freedom. That ironically means that I've only got one truly safe stomping ground left, Castor's.

By the time I get him back to his place I've managed to ditch him twice, once to pick up some goodies from another emergency cache of mine, and once more to pick some more sensual goodies from Bed Bath & Beyond. Yep this fox has always got a sly trick up his sleeve, and it's usually a naughty one to boot.

"Um, back already?"

He's giving me that outrageously cute head tilt again, so I press him back against his door and kiss him until he sags against me, "I thought that we could share your nice, big," I grope his sheath through his jeans, "bathtub." I'm whispering into his ear so that he feels my breath against the sensitive fur there as much as he hears my words.

He unlocks the door and rushes inside so fast that even I'm surprised. "I'll get the towels," he calls over his shoulder.

Leaving me to prepare the bath, which is nice 'cause all I have to do is turn it on and drop in that bath bomb thingy I bought. Plus I like to be the first in, so bonus! It's after I lower myself into the tub that the doorbell rings... and I freak out. My ears make out Castor's voice raised in anger, and a decidedly East European accented reply. Fuck.

I hop out of the tub with a splash, and put my ear against the door. A crash comes from the other side followed by a yelp from my host. It's the mafia 'yote that I ran into back at my apartment yesterday. I can still visualize the muscles standing out against his taunt shirt. Screw that. I lock the door. The bathroom has a small window near the ceiling, presumably to let the steam out. I eye it dubiously wondering if I can fit. Something crashes against the door, hard, I can hear the wood splintering. Yep I fit, except the door crunches inward, and someone yanks on my tail before I'm fully out of the window. Fortunately, I'm wet so I slip free. Unfortunately, I'm naked and running down the street. No cops, God please, no cops. I realize a moment later that the police might actually be useful right now, where are they when you need them?

You know how sometimes you can get a song stuck in your head, and it's always just that short epithet, never the full thing? Well you can get other things stuck in your head, playing over and over again. Right now I've got Castor saying, "Thanks for today. I had fun." stuck in my head, and that dreadful yelp that was the last thing that I heard from him. I can't help him. The mob probably took him as collateral for me misinterpreting the extent of our relationship. Meaning that if I don't come in they'll probably kill him. I could go to the police, but they wouldn't be able to find him. I could help them, but that would raise too many questions about my identity. I could do it myself...

I sense my paws slowing, and I'm not tired. I'm going to help him. Damn. I'm sure that Mr. Muscly Coyote jacked the stuff I had with me at Castor's, which means that I need to head to my place to get my equipment, but first I need to get some clothes. I pry open the back window of a sketchy looking thrift store, slip inside, put on the first thing I see, and walk out the door. The squirrel at the counter gives me a weird look, but I'm obviously not smuggling anything out, and who would steal from a thrift store anyway?

It's windy on the fire escape, and I'm freezing. My wet fur combined with the rags that I'm wearing is leaving me shivering. My paws are fumbling with the latch of my window. More disconcerting is that I have to lean almost all of the way over the railing on the 4th floor in order to reach my window. My brain is screaming at me to look down, while my heart is encourages me to man up, don't look down, and save my fox. I look down. Fuck. Fortunately, the latch slips open. I yank the window up and slip inside. It's when I look around my place that I realize that I'm stupid and this is a really bad idea. The place has been ransacked, and I know that they've got it watched. If anything it's just dumb luck that they're watching the outside, and not sitting on my couch waiting for me. All my gear is gone. At least everything that they could find is. Thank God for paranoia. My safe and emergency stuff is under my loose floorboard untouched just how I left it. The cash in my safe goes into one bag, while I pack a nifty hack bag for myself laptop, random cables, lock pick set, router, some surveillance equipment, tools, Taser, and an assortment of nasty gadgets, check. I towel myself dry, spending a few extra precious seconds on my poor grimy tail, and get dressed. Time to go hunting.

The bar hasn't changed a lick since the last time I was here, before this whole fiasco began. I know the lemur is working today, because I'm still tracking his cellphone, so when a perky raccoon comes by to take my order I ask if she can have Harry wait my table. She's more than happy to oblige when I hand her a twenty. When my not so cordial lemur buddy comes by I set my Taser on the table with an audible clunk. Tasers are so much more imposing then guns. While they won't make you fear for your life they'll certainly make you fear, and you know that I'm much more likely to tase you in public then shoot you. Plus mine is one of those nasty ones with the projectiles, Epic. "Sit," I say. He sits.

"Now Cy don't be mad. I had to clear some debts. I knew that you'd get clear cleaver fox like you." He fidgets when he's nervous. I think it's a species compulsion, but I still think it makes him look kind of pathetic.

"They took something of mine. I want it back." Did I just call that fox mine?

"You know how it is. If they get something they'll hold onto it until they get something else in exchange, but you've got something that they want I think." Yeah, my ass, doing their bidding. Forget it.

"That's not how this is going to work, Harry. They think that they can extort me? I'll show them extortion, and you're going to give me the information I need to get started."

"You're crazy, fox. You know what they do to squealers?"

"Do you know what I'll do to you if you don't help me? Judging by the confused look on your face I'll take that as a no. Let me put this in a way that you can understand. If I see a computer that I want to own, I'll hack it, it's mine, done. Computers handle all arrest warrants these days. If you don't help me I'll put out a warrant for your arrest. Nothing major, domestic violence maybe, you look like the type. Then when you're in jail your record disappears, and you never get out. Do you have any idea what they'll do to you in jail, Harry? Things that even I might not enjoy. Especially when I tell the mob that you squealed."

His face goes slack. It's quite comical actually, but I'm not really in the mood. If anything I'm really pissed off right now, so I'm liable to do something mean. Like torturing small animals.

"Okay. Okay, what do you want from me?"

"Locations and names."

"Locations of what? Names of who?"

"All of them."

It's from my bastion of hacker joy that I begin my assault, Starbucks. I plop my laptop down and get a massive iced coffee. "Alistair, I need profiles for the names that I'm uploading to you now."

My AI doesn't exactly understand English, but I like to pretend that he does. I could have just given him the keywords: profiles, names, upload, but this makes me feel so much cooler.

I deal in information, which means that if it's out there I can find it. Now I just have to find Castor. Turns out the mob's got a ton of safe houses, and their a lot more pervasive then I would have expected in Denver. Apparently, they keep a low profile. In any case I'm after information, which means servers, which means electricity, a lot of it. I broke into Denver Utilities a while back for another job, and I left a bunch of bots behind in case I needed to get back in, so within a couple minutes I'm parsing through the electric bill for every known mob hotspot. A two story in LoDo stands out like the white tip of my tail. Boom, headshot. Time to take a walk.

On the way Alistair reports back, giving me everything from intricate financials to dietary patterns. It turns out that Mr. Muscle Coyote's real name is Alexander Perov, I like my nickname better, more importantly it looks like he's been overdue on his rent for at least a week every month for the past three. Financial problems?

I setup camp in a small restaurant across the street and plug my computer into the wifi cannon in my backpack. What do you know they've got wifi, and they secured it with WEP... really? Nubs. I'm inside as fast as you can say lickity-split, and owning all the machines on their network. For good measure I setup a sniffer to grab any credential just in case say, I don't know, mob guy needs to check his Facebook in-between bashing in heads. It's the servers that I'm after though, and now I've got them. I probably only need a couple things, but it's a treasure trove in there, and I've been known to get greedy, so I have Alistair download it all. Back to Starbucks for more iced goodness!

It's when I step outside that I get a shock. I can hear him, and it's not inside my head this time. There across the street is Muscles, an equally massive wolf, and my fox. He doesn't look happy. My hand reaches back to my Taser, but I'm scared. They get into a car and the moment's gone. I've missed it. Fuck.

Time to do something stupid.