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Nexus

Chapter Six: You Had Me at Meow

The success of their last bust against the species-trafficking gang had given Ryan and Flynn a lot of credit at the Police Department, so when they called in another bust involving illegal sex work the PD responded in full force. By the time backup arrived Ryan had already arrested the Kit Kat Klub Manager and seized all their computers and records. Meanwhile Flynn supervised the transfer of the security camera files to the Station via her comm link and had the security crew taken to the Station to fill out statements. Before they left, She had them guide the uniformed officers to the Voyeur room where the participants and audience of the sex show were detained for questioning.

Ryan kept all the concerned parties separated while detectives on loan from Vice questioned them and forensic accountants went over the digital records. He saved the interview of the principal participant, the Furry feline, for him and Flynn.

The cat girl was seated facing the one-way glass where Lieutenant Lawson and later possibly Chief Fanning would be watching the interview. There was a regular window looking out on the Detectives’ bullpen toward The chief’s office that could be covered with a curtain, but Ryann had left it open. The suspect was not chained to the long steel table because she had cooperated with the uniforms and showed no sign of aggression when they brought her in. She was also much smaller than either Ryan or Flynn, and they were sure they could handle her.

“I’m Detective Sergeant Ryan and this is my partner, Detective Flynn.” He said by way of introduction as he and Flynn settled in on the other side of the interrogation table. “Would you like a coffee or a soft drink?”

“Got any Whiskey?”

“That’s not allowed.” Flynn informed her with a frown.

“Fuck it then. How about a cigarette?’

Tabacco use had been banned for all but indigenous religious celebrations and people with certain conditions, but a prescription pack had been found in her bag along with her clothes, identification and other personal items. Ryan, who was spreading her belongings across the desk pushed the pack and a lighter they had found in the bag over to her.

The black feline tapped the package against her fist and pulled one of the protruding cigarettes out with her lips. Her lips were black, Ryan noted, and glossy, like she had applied something to them.

After lighting the cigarette and taking a deep breath the feline blew a cloud of hazy smoke across the table. Flynn waved it away and got up to turn on the ceiling fan. That’s going to stick to my fur for days, she thought with resentment.

“So,” the feline said before taking another drag, “what did you drag me in for this time?”

The implication that she was a repeat offender did not escape either of the detectives. That’s good, Flynn thought, her confidence growing. If this floozy has been charged with prostitution before this then Gunderson’s club Manager could not help but know. Every sex worker in the city, Human, Anthro or Furry, whether they be a performer or a full-service provider, had to have a criminal background check on file. Employing a Human or Furry convicted of prostitution in a sex club was indeed grounds for shutting it down, probably permanently.

Ryan was thinking the same thing, and delighting in the damage it would do to Gunderson’s empire, especially if they could get the Manager or another employee to implicate the old Viking or tell them what scheme Gunderson was using it as cover for. Then they could pull every club and liqueur license in every establishment that Gunderson had any financial interest in whatsoever, including those partially owned by political cronies or other gangs. Now that would really hurt, he thought with a smile. But for now, he reminded himself, he had a sex worker that may well provide some info about the notoriously horny Norwegian.

“You are not charged with anything … yet.” He told the dark-furred feline. “If you cooperate with us, perhaps you won’t be … Miss …” He glanced at her identification and frowned. “Hmmm, there seems to be a discrepancy between your Citizenship Certificate and your Driver’s permit. The first says that you are Daisy Li and the second has the name Dixie Lee on it. Would you care to explain that?”

Flynn’s ears perked up at that. Multiple IDs was another indicator of criminal activity. Maybe this Furry was in deeper than they thought.

The cat girl leaned back and blew smoke toward the ceiling fan. “I was born Li Chuju.” She said with a bored expression. “Li is my family name and ChuJu means ‘chick flower’ in Chinese, what you would call a daisy. My Father was from Hong Kong, but my mother was from here, so I got citizenship through her. They registered me at school under the anglicized version of my name, Daisy Li, and that’s what the Citizenship Card was issued as. So soon as I moved away from home, which couldn’t come too soon, I had it changed to Dixie Lee, but you can call me Dixie.” She added with a smile to Ryan.

“You do that to piss off your parents?” Ryan asked.

“Just my Father. My mother died ten years ago.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Flynn said, leaning in compassionately.

“Don’t be. She killed herself.”

“Oh.” Flynn sat back, rebuffed.

“Let me see if I have this straight.” Ryan said as he made a note to check out her story, under all three names. “Your home life sucked, your mom committed suicide, and you ran away.” He glanced at the booking form again. She had shown no signs of drug use but did have a significant amount of alcohol in her system when they processed her. “You aren’t an addict, so why did you get into sex work? Debts? An abusive boyfriend?”

Dixie’s eyes went wide, giving Ryan a good look at those emerald green orbs. They were big, deep and round, not like a cat’s at all he realized, but they were mesmerizing, until her laugh broke the spell.

“Sex Work?” She snorted. “Is that what you think? Jesus Christ on a pogo stick!”

Dixie stubbed out her cigarette on the metal table and leaned forward with an angry expression on her face.

“My father is Aaron Li, maybe you’ve heard of him?”

Ryan and Flynn were frozen in place. Of course they had heard of Aaron Li, everyone in the city had. There wasn’t a symphony or opera that he wasn’t the Patron of. There wasn’t a museum or art galley that did not have a wing named after him. He was not only a famous philanthropist, he was also a major contributor to the Mayor’s re-election fund.

“Well, when he and mommy decided to have a child, she wanted a furry little girl she could snuggle and pet, so they had their genes modified and implanted to produce me. Mommy loved having a human kitten around, at first, but Daddy developed a desire for another kind of plaything. When I was sixteen she discovered what he had been doing to me since I was six and that’s why she killed herself. I had myself emancipated soon after that. So, I didn’t ‘run away’, I strutted out that door with my freedom and a significant settlement in the form of a trust fund.”

“I know that it is hard to talk about it,” Flynn said, recalling her assault victim training, “But now that it’s out in the open, do you want to file a complaint against your father?”

“Naw.” Dixie said, lighting another cigarette. “I have no physical proof, and it would be his word against mine, and the trust has a non-disclosure clause. Besides, he can afford the very best lawyers to paint him as a paragon of virtue and me as just a wayward daughter … and they wouldn’t have to work too hard to prove it.” She laughed. “Since I left, I’ve been putting on shows like the one you broke up tonight in front of people he knows just to embarrass the prick.”

“Oh fuck.” Flynn mumbled, remembering the thoughts that had been going through her head just before she noticed that the feline taking on three men was a Furry, not an Anthro.

“Ryan …” she began, but he was already leaning in for the next question.

“So, Gunderson, or one of his cronies, pays you to perform in front of other people just to embarrass your dad? Why would he do that? They’re both supporters of the Mayor.”

“Sarge, we need to shut this down, right now.”

He did not hear her though because his focus was locked on Dixie’s deep, green eyes, and her voice, which flowed like warm maple syrup into his ears.

“You don’t understand, Honey.” Dixie said, leaning toward Ryan. “He doesn’t pay me. I have to rent the room from the Club and recruit my own partners. The three you saw tonight are all soldiers on leave that I picked up at a dive downtown. I didn’t pay them either, if that’s what you’re insinuating. They did it for a few drinks and a chance to get some of this fine, furry ass.”

She stood up and mooned the one-way glass as she spoke, and in the reflection Ryan could see that she had not put on any underwear beneath her skirt. Leaning over also gave him a generous look at her cleavage. He struggled to tear his eyes away, and to subdue the swelling in his slacks.

Dixie noticed and gave him a knowing smirk.

Flynn was tugging on the sleeve or Ryan’s shirt now, desperate to draw his attention.

“Sergeant Ryan, we have an issue. I think we should go out to the hall and discuss it … right now.” She added almost snarling in frustration.

“Uh, okay.” He conceded. He needed to gat away from the cat girl and clear his head anyway.

Once they were in the bullpen Ryan asked, “Okay, what’s the problem?”

Flynn bit her lip before answering. “We don’t have a crime here.”

“What do you mean, no crime? They were performing a sex act in a sex club, something that only Anthros can do, legally, right?”

“Uh, noooo … not quite. Exhibitionism is not a felony, and in private clubs, like the Kit Kat Klub, it isn’t even a misdemeanour. As long as none of the uh, participants, is getting paid … it’s just …. kinky sex.”

“But the club allowed it. They took money for it.”

“So do hotels, motels and Air B&Bs, but they aren’t breaking the law no matter how many people are fucking in their rooms.”

Ryan tilted his head up and stared at a corner of the ceiling for a moment. Flynn recognized the signs of him process the information and did not interrupt him.

“So, … without a crime we had no grounds for arresting the staff, detaining the employees or club members, or for seizing the records.”

“Exactly.” She said, lowering and shaking her head side to side. “We had no ….”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ryan interrupted. “I know the word. I’m starting to hate it.”

Flynn looked worried. “What do we do now, Sarge?”

Ryan looked around the room. The audience members that they had brought in were prominent people, as were most of the club’s members. It had not taken long for their lawyers and members of the Mayor’s office to gather. Through the glass in the Chief’s office he could see a fat, blond middle-aged man in a nice suit yelling and gesticulating at Chief of Detectives Fanning. The Chief did not look happy.

Flynn saw the man too. She recognized him as the Deputy Mayor and as the man being flogged by the Cheetah at the Kit Kat Klub. She realized that Ryan had been right about one thing … there was no mistaking that gut, whether it was enclosed in an expensive suit or restrained with black leather straps.

“You got tell the other detectives to stand down on the questioning and apologise to the people we brought in. Let the manager and the staff go, but insinuate that we’ll be looking into this sort of activity further. And, uh, give them back their data and wipe the video files from our system.”

“You don’t want to keep the records we’re entitled to?”

“No. Whatever we find will be tainted by this shit show, besides, Gunderson is too smart to leave incriminating records laying around.”

“About this Gunderson thing …” Flynn began, but Ryan stopped her with a gesture.

“We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I have to get that cat out of here before someone convinces her to file a formal complaint.”

Before she could protest he opened the door to the interrogation room.

“Well Miss Lee, that’s all the questions we have for you today. I apologise for, uh, interrupting you … you and your, uhm, … friends … at the club. Can I offer you a lift home?”

She smiled in a way that Flynn thought was almost predatory as she stood up and swept her belongings into her purse.

“You’re quite the gentleman, Sergeant Ryan.” Dixie said as she brushed past him thought the door. “Flynn.” She said when her eyes meet those of the German Shepherd, with unnecessary emphasis on the first letter.

Flynn had not gone to high school with a pack of mean, entitled girls like Dixie probably had, but the tone was not lost on her.

“Miss Lee.” She replied frostily.

“Follow me, please.” Ryan said as he grabbed his jacket and overcoat from a nearby hook.

Dixie gave Flynn a knowing look and bobbed her eyebrows twice suggestively as she followed the tall, heavy built Sergeant out of the bullpen.

Flynn frowned after her, wondering what her game was, before turning to comply with Ryan’s orders. Before she had taken three steps the door to the observation room opened and Lieutenant Lawson gestured to her to join him inside.

“Well, that was a bit of a shit show.” He said calmly after the door closed behind them.

“Listen, Lieutenant, I can explain. I was as much at fault as Sergeant Ryan’s. When we saw that she was a Furry, we assumed … I assumed …”

He held up a hand palm out to silence her. “You don’t have to explain about the club. That’s Ryan’s job as supervising Detective. What you do have to explain is why you didn’t tell me that Ryan was going after Gunderson.”

Flynn wrung her hands in frustration, torn between loyalty to her supervisor and her duty to the Force. “I meant to … when I had definite proof, I mean. He just seemed so chill but the whole revenge thing … until earlier tonight.”

Lawson raised one eyebrow. “Earlier tonight?”

Her lip trembled, then it all spilled out. “Ryan has a CI in Gunderson’s gang … an off the books CI. I would have come to tell you sooner, but Sergeant Ryan came back, and we went straight to the Kit Kat Klub. Then … then I guess I got caught up in the excitement when we thought we had nailed him … Gunderson I mean. Anyways …”

“Slow down Detective.” Lawson said in a soothing voice. Sit down and take a deep breath.”

She did as instructed.

“Better?” He asked.

“Yes. Much.”

“Good.” He said as he took a seat opposite her. “Now, tell me all about this CI you say Ryan has.”

* * * * * * * *

Ryan drove Dixie to her place on the west side, near the river, in silence. He had memorized her driving permit when he was looking at her identification and knew how to get there. Still, he could feel her eyes on him most of the way.

It was a nice, upper-class neighbourhood with little crime, at least of the organized kind, Ryan mused. When he was in Homicide he had been called to places like this several times for what were inevitably intimate partner murders. In his experience people killed their partners because their either loved someone else and didn’t want to lose their shirts in a divorce settlement or they wanted their partner’s assets. Either way it came down to money, and the more money there was in a neighbourhood the more likely someone would get killed over it.

He pulled up to the curb in front of her building and watched as a tall, elderly, black man in uniform came down the steps with an umbrella because it had started to rain heavily.

Dixie made no move to leave the vehicle. “Walk me up to my condo, will you?” She said, batting her eyes. “You never know who could be lurking in the hallways.”

Ryan looked at the doorman, who was heavyset despite his white hair, and at the security cameras that sprouted from every corner of the building. Still, it would be best to keep her happy, he thought, especially since she could sink his career if she filed a complaint.

He got out and came around the vehicle. She allowed the doorman to open the car door and stepped out under the protection of his umbrella. The doorman made no move to protect Ryan also, even though the umbrella was large enough to shelter two. Ryan didn’t blame him; he wouldn’t trust someone in an older model vehicle and a rumpled overcoat in this neighbourhood either.

“Evening Miss Lee.” The doorman said as they walked up the stairs to the main entrance. “Company tonight?” He added with a suspicious glance at Ryan.

“He’s going to walk me up to my place, Robert.”

“Yes, Miss Lee.”

Inside the lobby there was a security station with two muscular younger men behind the desk. They nodded at Dixie as she and Ryan passed by heading for the elevators, with Ryan leaving a trail of water from his sodden clothes behind. The doorman had already gone to fetch a mop and bucket.

Inside the elevator they maintained their silence, and it continued right up to Dixie’s door. She used a thumb scanner, a numerical code and an old-fashioned key to unlock the door before turning to Ryan.

“Why, look at you!” She exclaimed as if she had not noticed his rain-soaked clothes earlier. “You’re a mess. You must come in and get out of those wet things.”

Ryan knew that he should politely refuse, but he hesitated, and before he could speak she had taken him by the arm and guided him into her apartment. The door closed behind them with a decisive ‘click’.

“Now give me that coat and your jacket. I’ll hang them up in the bath and bring you a towel for your hair. Such nice hair you have, by the way.”

With a smile over her shoulder she disappeared with his jacket and coat. Ryan stood there in the entrance vestibule, awkwardly shuffling his feet.

He heard water running, and a few seconds after it turned off she reappeared carrying two large towels. Her head was as wet as his now. She was also naked.

He had a hard time forcing his eyes up to her face, but he succeeded.

“Miss, uh, Lee. Could you put some clothes on, please? It’s not appropriate for me to be here … while you …”

“Oh, sure, Detective Sergeant Ryan. I forgot.” She said. “I don’t usually wear clothes around the house; it’s warm enough with just the fur, you know? But if it makes you uncomfortable.” she tossed him one towel and wrapped the other around her torso.

Ryan used the towel to dry his head and when he lowered it she was standing in the living room with her back to him as she bent over her control station to put on some music. The towel, which had only come down to the top of her thighs anyway, was raised by her tail so that the view left nothing to the imagination. Again, he had to fight to look away.

“Come in, come in.” she waved him closer as soft saxophone music filled the room. “Midnight Jazz, they call this playlist.” She informed him. “Very sexy stuff.” She added with a giggle.

“Can I get you a drink?” She said, turning to a shelf full of bottles of expensive liquor. “You look like a Scotch man to me.” She said as she poured two shots of a good single malt into two separate glasses.

“No, thanks. I’m, uh, not drinking these days.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry. I’ll pour these down the sink.” She brushed past him again and he caught a whiff of the good Scotch. He almost reached out to stop her but he refrained.

She was back a moment later, standing right in front of him, her towel encased breasts pressing into his chest.

“You missed a spot.” She said as she stood up on her toes to take the towel from around his neck and rub the sides of his head. He was sure that he had covered that area thoroughly, but he said nothing.

Her efforts made her breasts rub against his shirt though the towel. He could swear that he could feel her nipples though the thick material. His were hard too, from the cold rain he supposed, and he wondered if she could feel them too. Probably not, he decided.

When she was done she spun around so that her generous bum was pressed against him.

“Could you return the favour?” She asked, looking up at him with those deep green eyes over her shoulder. “I had to wet my hair to get something one of those soldiers left there out and since I’m wearing my towel we’ll have to share yours.”

He took the towel from her and began to rub the damp fur on her head. It was long in places, like Human hair, but short in others, especially around her ears, two black triangles that stuck up from her head higher up than where Human ears would be.

She giggled when he rubbed her ears, and her tail came up between his legs and began to curl around one of his thighs. She was wiggling with pleasure, the way a pet cat might if you scratched its head, and that made her butt grind against his pelvis.

His cock was twitching and his balls were aching. Part of his mind told him that he needed to get out of here right now, but another part wanted to lower the towel and start rubbing her breasts. They compromised by dropping the towel to the floor and lowering his hands where, on their own accord, they began to massage her neck and shoulders.

She leaned into him. “Hmmm, nice hands too. So big, and strong.” After a few moments she began to make a purring noise. Ryan could not tell if it was real or faked.

After a minute of enjoying her massage Dixie turned around to face him, stepping back and dropping her towel to the floor as she did.

He could not control his eyes this time. They drank her in. From the big, round, green eyes peeking out from under half-closed lids to the perfect line of her chin and neck. Then they slid down to the large round breasts that sat high on her chest. Her nipples were erect, he saw, and black, like her lips. His lips twitched as they ached to wrap themselves around one.

Her belly was flat, and the fur that covered her was scarce there. It got a little thicker as it approached her thighs, becoming a darker triangle. Her legs, finely shaped and strongly muscled, were Human in form all the way to her small toes, albeit covered with fine black fur. One could almost imagine that she was a young woman in a skin-tight cat costume, he thought, if it wasn’t for the thick tail swaying slowly from side to side behind her.

“Well.” She said. “What do you think?”

Muscles in his neck and arms and back were all twitching now, along with the ones in his lips and groin. He struggled to maintain his composure.

“What is it you want from me?” He spat out.

She answered calmly as she stepped up, put her hands on his shoulders and pressed her naked body against him. “I want you to show me who you really are, Detective Sergeant Ryan. Are you a cop … or are you a man?”

An agonized groan was ripped from his lips as all control fled him. He grabbed her just under her breasts and lifted her off the ground as he lowered his head to hers. Carrying her like that, he crossed the room and pressed her up against the far wall, where there was a space free of furniture or art. Along the way he felt her hands already undoing the buttons of his shirt. By the time she was pinned against the wall she had her hands on his belt and the fly of his trousers.

He didn’t know how she did it, but while their mouths were locked fiercely together she managed to open his shirt and undo his slacks so that they fell to his knees. A second later she had freed his cock from under the elastic band of his underwear and she was rubbing it with one hand while she pulled his head down to her breasts with the other.

“So big. I knew it would be the second I saw those big hands.” She gasped.

She wasted no time with it. Throwing one leg over his hips she guided his stiff cock to her already sopping mound, rubbing it briefly on her mons as the inner lips appeared. As soon as they had she jumped up, wrapped her other leg behind him and slid down on his pole until her pelvic floor came up against the base of his cock. Then she put her arms around his neck, pressed down on his shoulders, and began to rock up and down against him.

Ryan responded. He put his palms against the wall behind her and began to move in time with her. His buttocks clenched as each thrust drove her against the wall, making the liquor bottles on the nearby shelf rattle. His thighs took up the strain as he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in again.

He heard her voice, low and soft in his ear.

“That’s it Ryan, fuck me. Fuck your little kitty hard.”

He redoubled his efforts, wondering if there were neighbours on the other side of the wall, but not caring if there was.

The fur against his bare chest was a strange sensation, but other than that she felt like any other woman to him, with diamond tipped breasts and soft, smooth layers of flesh outside, warm and slippery and wonderfully tight inside.

“Ah, Jesus Ryan, yessss. Just like that. Yes, Jesus, fuck me, I’m going to cum.”

Her words, and his months of forced abstinence were too much for him.

“Agghhhh!” He moaned as his balls clenched, released, and sent a wad of cum shooting through his cock to splash inside her. It was quickly followed by several more.

Dixie felt them all, hot globs of seed that warmed her insides and made his passage slicker than before. She could even feel the excess leak out and trickle down the patch of almost bare skin between her cunt and her anus. He must have cum a bucketful, she thought, but he was still hard and had not slowed down one bit.

It took her maybe a minute more, maybe less, she couldn’t tell, but she came with almost as much force as he had. Hot waters that magically formed inside her sprayed out around his cock and bathed his groin.

She gasped; her other temporary lovers hardly ever moved her like this. They were just fucking for pleasure, but she could feel a connection with this cop. A connection made of raw passion, and she was surprised to find that it stirred desire which had long lay dormant inside her.

His thrusts slowed as they both gasped for air. After several moments he was still, and they could catch their breath.

She waited a minute for him to say something. She was afraid that she had pushed Ryan too hard. She had driven him mad, but at what cost? She had done this to other men, taken control away from them, and the results had often been anger, resentment, and sometimes violence. They slapped her, called her a slut, threw her to the floor and fucked her again before leaving, never to be seen again unless they showed up drunk looking for an encore. Why should Ryan be any different?

She tensed, prepared for the wrath that was sure to come.

Instead of throwing her to the floor, however, Ryan gripped the twin globes of her as and stood up away from the wall.

“Which way to the bedroom, Miss Lee?”

“To your right,” she said as she tightened her grip on his shoulders, “and please, call me Dixie.”

They took things much slower the second, and third, time. Ryan was fascinated by her fur, ears and tail. He explored every bit of her, first with his fingers, and then with his lips, and finally his tongue. Dixie reciprocated, enjoying the taste of his sweat and the tautness of his skin.

His body was not totally hairless, she found, as many men were in this age. He had thick dark hair on his forearms and legs, but his chest and back were smooth. His chin was covered in dark stubble which scratched a bit where her fur was sparse, but she relished digging her fingers into his thick head of curly dark hair.

They lay together as the sun came up outside. She was twirling a lock of his hair, and he was stoking her tail.

“Funny, but I expected your place to smell of cigarette smoke.” He said idly. It was his first words since entering her bedroom.

“I only smoke when I’m nervous.” She confessed. “And I’m never nervous when I’m at home. I’m in charge here, no matter what the assholes I drag back here think. Present company excepted.”

“Why, thank you Miss Dixie.”

“Hey!” she said, rolling over onto her elbows. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Detective Sergeant Ryan now, can I?”

“You could, if you want,” he replied, “but my parents named me Anthony, Tony for short.”

“How did an Irish kid get dark curly hair and the name Anthony?”

“My mother was Italian, like born there and moved here when she was a child. My dad wanted to name me Sean, but my mother couldn’t pronounce it, and the Priest who was to baptise me liked Anthony because it was a saint’s name, so he gave in. There’s no Saint Sean anyways.”

“You came from a religious family?”

“Somewhat. You?”

“No. Not particularly. I think my father was a Buddhist, maybe. Mother was some kind of Protestant, but she spent her Sundays at the Country Club instead of church. Hey!” she exclaimed, slapping his hand away from the base of her tail. “That tickles.”

“Sorry.” He said, snuggling against her. “I was just checking you out. You have a lot of similarities to the Anthros I’ve seen working the clubs, but a few difference too.”

“Other than the feet?” He had already told her about their mistake when they noticed that she had feet instead of paws.

“Yeah, like your hands. You have smooth palms with those three lines like, uh, non-furry Humans, but Flynn, she has leathery pads on her palms and the joints of her fingers, like a dog, almost.”

Dixie’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve seen a lot of Flynn’s body parts, have you? Are you fucking her?”

Ryan sat up. “What? Good God, no! I’m her supervisor!”

His innocence was evident on his face, and Dixie relaxed. “Believe me, Tony, being her supervisor would be more of a reason than a deterrent for most men. So, apart from the feet and hands, what else have you noticed?”

“Your eyes are round, not slit like some of the Anthro Felines.”

“Yeah, eyes and snouts are difficult for the geneticists to replicate in Furries.” She said, rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “It’s got something to do with how our brains are wired. Humans are adapted for a restrict range of vision and rudimentary smelling ability. Cat eyes and canine noses are way more sensitive than Human ones, and our brains can’t handle the extra input. When they tried to put full-on canine snouts or cat’s eyes on Human genes there was a high failure rate.”

“Failure rate?”

“Stillbirths, defects, underdeveloped brains, mutated skulls, feral children.” She shrugged. “Anyway, feline Furries have Human eyes and can’t see in the dark, and if you look closely, you’ll see that canine Furries you see usually have shorter snouts than their Anthro counterparts. Inside, where it counts, they just have elongated Human sinuses, not the thousands of passages and layers of scent receptors that dogs have. Other species have similar shortcomings.”

“You sound like you’re an expert on this.”

“Naw, I just had an offer a while ago to become a breeder for some enterprise Gunderson’s got going, but after researching the subject I decided to have my tubes tied. No little cat girls for me.”

“Oh, yeah.” He said, glancing down where her crotch was still crusted with dried cum. “I was going to ask you about that.”

“No little Detectives for you tonight either, Ryan.” She laughed as she rolled over on top of him. “No mater how hard you probe me. Speaking of which …” she said as she reached for his groin.

Before he could respond the comm link on his wrist gave off a shrill sound.

“What’s that?” she asked, startled. “Tornado warning?”

He looked at the message displayed on the small screen.

“Worse.” He replied. “Chief Fanning wants me in his office … immediately.”