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Mr. Wolf’s Last Heist

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By Misstresschange

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8:24 pm – Foxington Penthouse, grand foyer:

The stage was set, and the bait was laid. The trap? Just waiting to be sprung.

Governor Diane Foxington gazed out over the well-dressed crowd occupying her vast, opulent foyer serving as tonight’s ballroom. She stood at the top of the stairs to the second floor like a gem at the tip of a crown. A dreamy blue dress wrapped her vibrant, orange-furred body, the upper hem barely containing her enormous bosom. Despite her elegant appearance that night, she’d be playing second fiddle to a far less metaphorical jem…

The Arora Emerald…

It was donated by one of the world’s wealthiest individuals and was the world’s most valuable emerald. Known worldwide for its iridescent borealis-like shimmer, it was the most valuable item ever to be auctioned off to raise funds for Diane’s charity organization.

Of course, the emerald would inevitably fall back into her leathery padded hands when ‘The Crimson Paw’ stole it back. Then she’d sell it on the black market and donate the ill-gotten gains to her charity organization, which, in turn, would flow into her development companies to build schools, roads, and wells in villages across the third world. Hardworking people would be well paid, the underprivileged parts of the world would benefit, and she’d skim enough off the top to increase her vast fortune. As usual, people worldwide would treat her as a saint, none the wiser.

She could just steal it tonight, of course. She had the skills to do it and make it look like someone else had stolen it. She was the best thief in the world, after all. However, the emerald would have to remain absent from her orange paws for a while more. She was after something else tonight…

…A partner in crime…

And that’s why she’d made such a big deal of tonight’s gala. All the most important people were there, and everyone else was talking about it on social media, spreading the word about the attendees and the prize. The emerald was the perfect lure.

Of course, to be allowed the honor of having such a valuable object stored in her penthouse, Diane had to give up some considerable space to install a state-of-the-art vault. It was so well designed that not even she could snatch up the emerald, and if she couldn’t, nobody else could. A would-be thief could enter it if they were determined enough, sure. However, there was no way of getting out once inside. That is precisely how Diane wanted it; all she had to do was wait for her ‘special guest’ to drop in while she enjoyed her night with her more esteemed guests.

8:52 pm – Foxington Penthouse, upper ductwork:

Mr. Wolf shuffled through the air duct on all fours, irritated grunts echoing through the confined space. It was hard enough getting to this point. He’d had to steal the latest building designs from city hall, sneak into the basement, climb the elevator shaft up all twenty floors, and now he had to squeeze himself through a ventilation duct barely big enough for a human child—just his luck.

Of course, Mr. Wolf had never been very lucky, to begin with.

His career as a criminal had been pathetic at best. He’d not had much success. Things would have been easier with a crew, but Mr. Wolf could never find suitable partners, none that he trusted, at least. Thus, he’d been forced to enact his failed heists alone.

If there was any heist he could pull off, this had to be the one. It was the only heist he’d need to do going forward—early retirement.

But of course, it couldn’t be easy. It was never that easy.

Mr. Wolf noisily wormed his way through the ductwork until the buzz of the gala below him faded to a dull murmur. He rounded a corner. Several downward vents glowed with white fluorescent light, illuminating the cramped corridor in several places. His tail wagged. One of these must be it. If his memory of the floor plans was anything to go by.

Mr. Wolf squirmed toward the first vent, peering down through it with his yellow canine eyes. The room below was clad in a smooth metallic surface, lacking any décor or furniture. Bingo! This was it! He eagerly crawled to the next vent, glancing through the metal grille.

Right below him was his prize—the Arora Emerald. As the blueprints he’d acquired suggested, the gem was encased in a clear glass cube raised to chest height on a metal pedestal. He’d have to cut through the glass, then reach in and replace the gem with something of equal weight value. He’d prepared for this, of course. The real challenge would be rappelling down past the laser alarm grid and remaining suspended while he removed the gem so as to not trip the pressure plates on the floor.

Mr. Wolf reached down as best he could in the confined space and retrieved a pair of pliers and two magnets from his utility belt. He undid the eight tiny bolts fastening the grille to the ductwork, using the magnet to prevent any from falling away. He then removed the grille with a second magnet and pulled it up into the hole he’d created in its absence.

Now, all he had to do was rappel down, take the gem, ascend, and crawl back the way he came. So far, so good.

The devilish wolf removed a compact anchor and pulley from his belt, along with a climbing rope and carabiner. He attached the pulley system to his hip harness and returned to his belt for a small, black satchel. He turned it upside down and emptied its contents out of the opening. A steady plume of talcum powder streamed downward, dissipating about the vault and revealing the red, shimmering laser beams.

They criss-crossed about the room in a chaotic light display. Mr. Wolf knew just from looking at them that one wrong move would spell his demise. He studied their patterns intently, looking for an entrance. Then he found it; a collum of absent lasers conveniently reaching down to the emerald’s case.

“Well…that’s unusually fortunate for once.” He murmured to himself before descending from the open hatch. He rappelled straight down, descending through the gap in the web of lasers. His grip on his descender loosened just before the case, and he came to a smooth halt, hanging upside down while staring the jem down. Mr. Wolf had to strain himself from shaking with adrenaline lest he accidentally break one of the dozens of beams around him.

He was so close. Just a half-inch plane of glass separated him from his big score.

He carefully reached for his glass cutter, keeping his limbs close to his body. He unzipped the pouch and reached for the tool. His fingers touched the cool metal briefly, and then it was gone. Something zipped past his face, something metal. He looked down and cringed as he watched his glass cutter clatter off the metal-plated floor. His body tightened like a compressed spring as he watched the tool slide toward one of the beams.

Then it stopped, inches short of ruining everything: his plans, heist, and life. Mr. Wolf sighed with relief, his body relaxing. “Phew. That was way too close.” He breathed. Frankly, he was surprised one of the pressure plates hadn’t gone off. Now, all he had to do was lower himself down, grab the cutter, and-

The sensation of weightlessness suddenly overcame the wolf. Time seemed to slow down as Mr. Wolf closed the five-foot distance between his face and the metal floor. Something had happened to his harness. No, his descender. No, his pulley system. Maybe it had all failed at once? It didn’t matter. As his head connected painfully with the floor, he knew it was all over.

He was royally screwed.

“Ow!” He cried as his face hit the ground. His body twisted as it followed, sending his limbs spinning through so many of the laser beams surrounding him. If his weight on the pressure plate hadn’t set the alarm off, that sure did.

The room’s clear fluorescent lighting was replaced with flashing red as emergency lights emerged from suddenly opening holes in the ceiling. A klaxon filled the air with a shrill, startling siren. It was loud and flashy. It disoriented as much as it terrified an uninvited guest like Mr. Wolf. It spelled his doom, at least as far as his freedom was concerned.

9:00 pm – Foxington Penthouse, Grand Foyer:

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“And then I said, That’s not caviar you’re eating, it’s-“

Mrs. Noshi, the city’s comptroller, was interrupted in the middle of her punchline by a beeping that drew her and her husband’s attention to Ms. Foxington’s wrist. Diane’s smartwatch was going off with what the couple had to assume was an alarm from her clock app. Diane knew better. She’d made her catch. She reached down and dismissed the alarm.

“I apologize, Mrs. Noshi.” She said politely. “I have something I need to attend to. When I return, you must finish your story. It sounded like it was about to have quite the conclusion.”

“Oh, we understand.” Mrs. Noshi replied. “Being the governor must take up quite a lot of your time. We’ll be around when you return.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back shortly.” Diane lied. What was about to take place in the depths of her penthouse would take much longer than the couple would wait.

The fox turned from them and exited down a long hallway to her enormous living area and kitchen. Another few turns down some hallways, and she was face to face with the blast door leading to her vault. She allowed the wall-embedded facial scanner to identify her vulpine face, then stepped back as the giant, circular door swung open on its automatic hinges. Diane smoothed her dress, adjusted her bosom, and entered the room, eager to find out who her catch would be…

9:03 pm – Foxington Penthouse, Secure Vault:

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Mr. Wolf panicked as he raced around the room, looking for any way out. The alarm klaxons continued to stab at his canine ears, compounding the stress he was already under. He’d checked every corner of the place, every nook and cranny, for an exit. There were none. He could have shimmied up the rope and left the way he came. However, he’d come to discover that his rope had been severed at the top by a mysterious metal hatch that had sealed the vent entirely.

How had he missed it when he’d made his plans?

Suddenly, the klaxons stopped, and the red flashing lights ceased. The room appeared to be resetting. Was this because the authorities had deactivated it so they could enter unhindered by the flashing lights and blaring sound? Or had he lucked out, and the alarm simply turned off?

No…he was never that lucky.

He started when the metal wall with the only entrance began to move. He turned and saw not the door opening but the entire wall lifting into the ceiling. Mr. Wolf instinctively jumped to hide behind the metal podium containing the emerald. It was all he could do.

The wall slid away into the ceiling and came to a stop with a deafening clang. Mr. Wolf fully expected the chamber to fill with the sounds of boots as police swarmed in to surround him. To his surprise, the only sound making his ears twitch was those of a pair of women’s heels clacking on metal as someone stepped into the chamber.

“You can come out now,” spoke a feminine voice. The voice had a slightly mocking tone, as if its speaker and Mr. Wolf had been playing a game of hide and seek. Mr. Wolf wondered if he should just reveal himself. She appeared to know that he was already there. “Yes, you, behind the pedestal. You can come out. I can assure you you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon, so you might as well show yourself.”

Mr. Wolf’s eyes darted about. That voice… It sounded just like the governor’s. Mr. Wolf peered around the podium and spotted the well-endowed fox standing in her dress, hand on her hip with the other hanging lazily to her side. His suspicions were confirmed. It was Diane Foxington, looking back at him with the smuggest look he’d ever seen.

“Oh, A wolf!” She said, perking up in genuine surprise. “Now, this is a pleasant surprise. There are so few of us animal folk out there that I fully expected you to be human. But here you are, another one of us, in the fur. This will make the procedure go far smoother now. You might even enjoy it!”

Mr. Wolf was barely listening. His mind was racing with potential exits. He noticed the hallway beyond her, leading out of the room. If he could get close to her, he might be able to bolt past and run out of the place. Sure, he’d have no emerald but might escape his failed heist, freedom intact. How could Ms. Foxington be so careless? No matter; all he cared about was getting out of here.

“Governor Foxington!” He said, emerging from his hiding place and putting on a friendly demeanor. “It’s so nice to meet you! I see you on the news all the time. You know, I voted for you in the last election.” He stepped closer to her, preparing to make a break for it the moment he could. She watched him, unmoving and with the most entertained smirk on her muzzle. She liked being on the other end of the stealing for once. It was amusing.

“I, uh, seem to have gotten lost.” He added, still slowly approaching. He scratched his head fur awkwardly. Ms. Foxington snorted.

“Lost in a high-security vault, wearing that get-up? Oh, yeah. I’m sure you’re really ‘lost.’” She made air quotes to accompany her sarcastic remark. Mr. Wolf continued with his tall tale, still approaching her.

“Yeah, I mean…I’m wearing this because I’m the duct cleaner, and, wouldn’t you know it, I descended into the wrong room.” He slapped a paw to his forehead, feigning embarrassment.

“We didn’t schedule the duct cleaners for tonight.” Ms. Foxington replied, calling his bluff. She enjoyed listening to him as he fumbled his sorry excuses. Despite his lack of shame, he was rather charming and charismatic. Diane could see the two of them together if she wasn’t about to do what she’d planned to do to him.

“Exactly!” Mr. Wolf agreed, rolling with her rebuke. “Which is exactly why I’m on my way out. Big misunderstand-.“ He stopped abruptly when he walked right into a thick wall of glass separating the two. He hadn’t even seen it. Even as his weary eyes adjusted, he could only make the glass out by the slobber his nose and open mouth had left behind. “Uhhh.” He groaned. Upon further inspection, he could see the rows of holes seamlessly cored in the glass, allowing them to speak to each other. “Nuts.” He swore, realizing he was truly trapped.

“You must have gone through a lot of effort to sneak in here, Mr…Wolf?” She folded her arms under her hefty bosom. “What exactly do I call you?”

“Mr. Wolf is actually spot on.” He replied, rubbing his sore snout. Usually, he’d continue lying, but considering he’d been caught red-handed by the governor of all people, he figured he might as well drop the act. “And, yeah. I spent a lot of sleepless nights preparing for this.”

“Sleepless nights under the full moon?” Diane jested. Mr. Wolf feigned laughter.

“Very funny.” He sighed defeatedly. “Well… It was all for nothing, I suppose. Seems no matter how hard I try, I can’t cut it as a big-time crook.” He hung his head. “So what now? You gonna turn me in?” Diane’s mouth quirked at this.

“Not at all. Mr. Wolf.” She said. Mr. Wolf’s ears perked at this.

“You’re not?” He asked cautiously, believing it too good to be true.

“No,” Diane replied, very matter-of-factly. “Rather, I want you to join me.” Mr. Wolf cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at her.

“What, as an assistant in your office?”

“No. As a partner in crime.”

Mr. Wolf was even more confused by this. “What?” He asked incredulously.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Diane asked, gesturing to herself. “I know the humans might be completely oblivious, but I thought a fellow ‘walking, talking, animal person’ would have figured it out by now.”

Mr. Wolf somehow looked even more confused than before. Diane sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I’m The Crimson Paw, you dummy!” She shouted. She thrust her hand forward, displaying her upturned orange-furred palm to the wolf. It took Mr. Wolf a few seconds, but when the realization hit him, his eyes opened as wide as his mouth.

“But you’re the governor… The charity organizing governor.” Mr. Wolf sputtered. Ms. Foxington flashed him a wink.

“Perfect cover, don’t you think? And my oh-so-gracious charity allows me to launder my expertly ill-gotten gains. There’s a reason I’m the best crook in the world.”

“That’s crazy…” Mr. Wolf breathed. “And you want me to be your partner? Me?!” The wolf gestured to himself. “I totally messed this up. Why would you want me?” Ms. Foxington gazed down and inspected her nails.

“Well, to be fair, not even I could steal from this vault. I designed it that way. But you were the only one determined enough to sneak in.” She smirked at him. “And I needed someone as determined as you as a template.”

Mr. Wolf’s tail wagged at Ms. Foxington’s compliments. He’d never thought in a million years that he’d receive praise from anyone as acclaimed in the criminal world as ‘The Crimson Paw.’ His tail stopped wagging at the word ‘template.’

“Template?” He asked, cocking his head again.

“Yes, a template for my DNA.”

Mr. Wolf squinted at her incredulously. “DNA?” Diane tittered at his confusion.

“Oh, you didn’t think you were going to be my partner, did you?” Mr. Wolf gaped at her question, beginning to suspect she’d gone nuts.

“Uh, yeah? You just said-”

Diane snorted, stifling a laugh. “Oh, you sweet boy. No, no, no. You see, working with someone with a passion for crime and a sharp mind is not enough. They need to have my passion for crime and my razor-sharp mind. They need to be me. It just helps that they have the former as a base.”

“So you want a partner that’s a clone of you? I don’t follow. How am I going to be you?” Mr. Wolf asked. Diane brought her smartwatch up and tapped at the screen a few times.

“You’ll understand soon enough,” Diane replied. She tapped one last button on her watch. All four of their ears twitched as a hiss rushed into the chamber on Mr. Wolf’s side of the glass. An orange fog materialized from sprinklers in the ceiling and gradually drifted toward the helpless wolf. Mr. Wolf gazed up at the impending fog, then back to Diane, pounding on the glass as panic took over.

“What is this?!” He demanded. Diane was unfazed by his change of attitude. She grinned wickedly back at him, knowing there was no escaping his fate now.

“It helps to have donors in high positions within the biotech industry. If you pull enough strings, you can access some of the most amazing things most people would refuse to believe…” She paused and watched the wolf descend further into panic. “…like a mutagenic gas that replaces your victim’s genes with your own.”

“W-what?!” Mr. Wolf cried out. “This is a prank, right? A test of my nerves?”

“No ‘Mr. Wolf,’ this is quite real. But don’t worry, you’ll be a better version of yourself soon enough. You’ll be me! The best version anyone could be. Now breathe deep, my canine friend. A new world awaits us.”

Mr. Wolf turned and pressed his back to the glass, gazing up as the orange fog closed in, sinking further and further toward him. The strange, sterile aroma reached his nostrils. It smelled like hand sanitizer and burned in his nose. He teared up, nearly choking. Ms. Foxington stepped back as the wolf spun around again and frantically pounded his fists against the glass separating the two. These were the last vain attempts of a desperate mammal. It wouldn’t last long, not after the transformation process began.

“Let me out of here!” Mr. Wolf screamed. “You can take me to jail for all I care! Just-*cough* Please!*cough cough* Don’t-.”

Mr. Wolf doubled over as he hacked away, every breath filling his lungs with the strange gas. Just when he thought he might choke to death, his breathing cleared up completely. In fact, he felt like he could breathe better than ever. Mr. Wolf panted and straightened up, looking over himself. Nothing had happened thus far. He felt no different. He gazed around, trying to make out Ms. Foxington through the haze, a smile spreading across his face.

“Ha! Very funny, Ms. Foxington. You really had me going there.” He took a deep breath of the orange atmosphere. “Just a little bit of ‘hazing.’ Am I right?” He chuckled. “Get it? Cause it’s all hazy in here?” He waited for a response from the governor. But none came. “Hello? Are you there?”

A strange feeling suddenly overtook Mr. Wolf’s body, a tingling sensation that electrified his nerves. “Wh-what?” Mr. Wolf stammered. “What’s…” He didn’t get a chance to finish his thought. He doubled over again, this time falling to his knees. His chest heaved as a warmth encompassed him, a heavy, stifling warmth like he’d been immersed in a sauna.

He groaned as a pain struck through him, like growing pains, but in reverse. His teeth gritted tight, and he fell forward onto his paws. Muscles tensed, and bones creaked. He felt his fur shift against the fabric of his bodysuit. His upper body felt like it was narrowing and shrinking, while his hips and thighs felt like they were expanding.

“This isn’t happening,” he thought. “This is impossible.” He struggled to focus. His world was cloaked in orange fog. He tried to move, run, find something, anything he could use to break the glass barrier and escape this cruel fate. A resounding snap in his face, accompanied by a splitting pain in his skull, stopped him before he’d even started.

“Agghh!” He howled, clutching his head tight. It felt like it was caught in a vice, being compressed from back to snout. His fingers clutched at the pain in his nose. His snout slipped over his paw pads centimeter by centimeter, drawing back towards his face and narrowing. He tugged at it desperately, hoping with all hope that he could simply reverse its course. No such luck. But then again, when did he ever have such luck?

His black jumpsuit, clinging loosely to his slimming upper body, began to tighten again. Relief struck Mr. Wolf. Perhaps what was happening to him was reversing or was just his frightened imagination. He fought through the pain and straightened up, only to have all relief dashed in an instant when the fabric rubbed tight against his nipples. He looked down only to see the tenting of the suit over his chest.

His eyes widened in shock, in fear, and in pain. He couldn’t look away as emerging breasts replaced his masculine pecs, pushing the black fabric of his jumpsuit outward until it stretched tight over his burgeoning mounds. It was painfully tight despite the added space left by his narrowing shoulders and ribcage. Mr. Wolf pinched at the zipper with shaking paws, his mind unable to comprehend how this could be possible or what he was becoming.

“The Crimson Paw…”

The thought reverberated through his mind, and he raised a paw to his face, observing the new orange pigmentation in his fur. It began as individual hairs, speckled throughout his natural grey pelt. Mr. Wolf watched them change, first as a few, then more and more of his hair shifted before his very eyes, altering to a softer texture with a vibrant orange hue.

In real-time, he watched as his paw turned as crimson as Ms. Foxington’s.

Mr. Wolf scrambled toward the glass barrier, once again pounding on it with clenched fists…dainty orange fists. “Miss Foxington! Please, for the love of god! Let me out of here! I’ll do anything!” He begged for his life, but it wouldn’t be his life much longer. Soon, it would be hers. After all, his voice was already altering. It no longer belonged to only him, but Diane’s as well. His cries echoed through the chamber as an uncanny amalgam of their voices, his words increasingly mimicking Diane’s tone and cadence with each syllable.

His breasts spilled out of his open jumpsuit as he raged against the glass, taking him off balance with their ever-increasing mass. His shifting face slammed into the glass wall, and he grabbed his head in agony, sinking to the floor on his rear, his ample, round rear.

His head swam, and his vision blurred, conditions that could be easily attributed to the bump he’d just inflicted on himself. However, deep in the core of his mind, the same transformative reaction affecting his physical form began to take root within his psyche. His brain chemistry shifted just as his body did, copying Diane’s.

Mr. Wolf struggled to hold onto the very things that made him ‘him.’ Memories he held dear were overwritten by those of Ms. Foxington. His quirky personality slipped through grey canine paws and gathered in orange, vulpine paws to be sifted through and molded into something more graceful. New synapses were forged, replacing the old. New neural pathways took over those of Mr. Wolf’s. He was becoming her in every way, and worse still, he gradually found himself taking glee in this revelation. He was very literally losing his mind.

Suddenly, the changes shaping his body into hers didn’t hurt as much. They felt…euphoric. He wanted this. No, ‘ she ’ wanted this. She felt at home in this form, with her giant breasts hanging free from the open jumpsuit that tightly hugged her curves. She barely bat an eye at the tight pinch and folding sensation coming from between her legs as her previous genitals tucked inside her abdomen, forming her proper female reproductive system. What was once a fuzzy sheath hiding a red canine member became an elegant pair of vulpine labia, her former member nestling into the crest of her fleshy folds as her new clitoris.

All of Diane Foxington’s skills, personality, and memories set into the former mind of the once Mr. Wolf. Everything that had been the failed criminal was assimilated by the infamous ‘Crimson Paw,’ leaving nothing of the canine behind, producing the perfect clone of the governor.

And then…Mr. Wolf was gone.

The new Diane chuckled heartily while she felt herself up with her new paw, ‘new’ being a relative term. To her, she’d always possessed these paws.

“My, my, my.” She said, her voice a perfect copy of her original. “What trap I seem to have fallen for. What kind of genius mind could have conceived such a devious ploy?”

“Our mind,” The original Diane said, stepping to the glass to admire her new accomplice. No…her new partner.

She’d be her partner, alright, in more ways than one.

Having thoroughly enjoyed the sounds of the wolf’s demise and her double’s creation, the original Diane tapped a button on her smartwatch. The vents inside the vault opened, and the orange fog was hastily sucked out of the building to diffuse harmlessly in the night air. Diane looked upon her second self, sitting up against the glass with her back facing her. The new clone turned her head, her hand covering her muzzle to stifle her giggling. She side-eyed her original before shooting her a wink.

“Looks like our plan went off without a hitch.” She said, picking herself up off the floor.

“When does it not?” the original Diane asked playfully. She tapped another button, and the glass wall slid into the ceiling. The new Diane stepped closer to her original, the two curiously observing each other. For either, it was like looking into the mirror—well, almost. The new Diane lacked her eyebrow piercing.

“We’ll have to get this pierced if we are to truly match,” Diane said, raising her hand to stroke the unblemished brow of her copy.

“I hope it hurts as much as I remember.” The new Diane commented with a cheeky smirk. Her hand rose to her original’s, caressing it and guiding it down to her furry cheek. “We’ve always found a little excitement in feeling pain, haven’t we?” The two vixens blushed.

“There’d be no sense in lying to you, my dear.” the original Diane replied. She stroked her double’s cheek with her thumb, and the copy nuzzled her face against her firm, slender paw.

“Then you’d be lying if you told me you weren’t very aroused by this.” The copy replied

“You know it was half the reason I put this whole scheme together.” The original admitted.

“And you know that I know you’re lying when you say it was ‘only’ half the reason.” The copy insisted. The new Diane drew closer and placed her free paw on her original’s hip. “Why don’t we go to our bedroom so I can strip out of this get-up, and we make our little short-lived fantasy a lifelong reality?”

The original leaned in and sniffed the tight jumpsuit, picking up the strong canine scent lingering in the fabric. She stifled a giggle. “Yes, let’s get you out of these. You smell like a mutt.”

The copy chuckled and withdrew her hand from her original’s, moving it to her original’s hip. “Oh, come now. We thought he was cute.” The original Diane sighed, flashing a cheeky smirk.

“I suppose you’re right,” Diane admitted.

“You know I’m right.” The copy pressed.

“Indeed you do.”

The original Diane gazed into her copy’s eyes, signaling strong sensual intent with her own. “Then it’s a good thing you’ll still smell like him, even after I take those off you.” She looked over her double, marveling at how well she looked with the wolf’s outfit stretched over her voluptuous form. “It will be a small shame to see you step out of this, though. Even in men’s clothes, you look ravishing.”

“We look ravishing, hun. And you’re one to talk in that stunning blue dress. Shall we head to our room and proceed with the ‘taking off’ of these pesky outfits?” The clone offered. “Or are you headed back to the party?”

“The unveiling of the emerald won’t be until midnight,” Diane replied. She took her clone by the hand and guided her new double toward the exit. “We’ll still have plenty of time to get to know ourselves better. Better than anyone possibly could.” The clone followed her original, her hand snug in the palm of her original.

“Lead the way, my love…” she replied.

9:26PM – Foxington Penthouse, Master Bedroom:

The two identical vixens giggled as they wandered into the bedroom hand in hand, the copy following the original. Both foxy ladies had riled each other up on their way there and were eager to get down to business.

Diane’s clone twirled her, making her dress flourish before casting her to the foot of the bed. The original Diane let out an excited whoop as she fell onto the bedspread, letting her arms spread across the immaculately pressed duvet.

“This is beyond exhilarating,” Diane mentioned. Her copy chuckled softly.

“You’re telling me. This is the greatest thing we’ve done since we stole that monkey’s fist diamond from that warlord. And we haven’t even taken our clothes off yet.”

“Speaking of taking our clothes off…” Diane mentioned, slowly drawing up the skirt of her dress, revealing her orange legs. The copy admired her original.

“One never truly knows how much they admire themselves until they’re actually standing at the end of their bed, watching the body they’ve known all their life revealing itself before them.” She rested her elbow in her palm and stroked her chin between her finger and thumb. “It’s positively magnificent.”

The original Diane shot her copy a sly ‘come hither’ look. “Are you gonna stand there ‘admiring yourself, or are you gonna do something about it?” She pulled her dress up further, revealing her fuzzy thighs.

“You know I’m gonna do something about it.” The copy snapped back.

The original Diane watched her clone pull the black jumpsuit off bit by bit like a molting snake, her clone staring sensually back at her all the while. She started at her shoulders, letting the already slack fabric slip off. With her enormous tits already free of their bindings, the upper half cascaded off her back, hanging until clone Diane pulled her arms through the tightly fitting sleeves.

With her arms free, she let the fabric fall around her waist and hang off her wide hips, leaving much to Diane’s imagination despite already knowing precisely what hid beneath. Diane’s copy tittered and turned around, knowing exactly how her original would want to see next. She remembered practicing this teasing reveal in the mirror plenty of times before.

She hooked her thumbs into the waist of her jumpsuit and slowly peeled them down her legs, bending over as she did, further presenting the to-be-revealed treasure between them. The crotch of the suit caught on her thighs for but a moment before breaking free and exposing the moist, pink pussy lips to their observer. The original Diane nibbled her lower lip and softly rubbed herself over her dress, no longer concerned if it stained. She could always throw another on before heading back to the gala. For the time being, she wanted to savor every moment of this experience.

“Enjoying the show?” The copy asked.

“Very much so,” Diane replied, her voice dripping with arousal. “I’d hate to rush you, but this display is driving me wild, and I don’t think I can contain myself much longer.”

“I know precisely how you feel, dear.” The copy said. She stepped out of the jumpsuit and turned to face her other, her gigantic tits swaying with every motion. She gazed upon Diane, whose eyes flittered over her body, taking in her naked form.

“Then you must feel the same.” The original Diane mentioned. “You should come unwrap me.”

Diane’s clone winked at her and bent low, crawling onto the bed toward her original, breasts nearly dragging across the bedspread. She passed over the original’s legs, staring intensely at her. Her eyes were hungry, and the original Diane responded with an identical glare. The clone Diane passed over the original, dragging her massive chest over her body, only stopping once the two identical vixens were face to face.

There was little to say. The two momentarily stopped to study one another’s faces, like looking in a hand mirror held before either fox. Their breath breezed over the other, excited puffs from mouths agape in anticipation. Neither made the first move; instead, their muzzles naturally met in the space between them as they locked lips for the first time. Their eyes closed, their maws opened further, and their tongues mingled.

Both Dianes made out, the new atop the old. Their copious bosoms compressed between them, stacked atop one another. The two wove their fingers together, clasping their hands in union as the clone pinned them against the sheets. They relished the other’s company, for there was nothing like it, giving oneself to someone who knew exactly what you desired and when. It was divine.

Diane’s copy was the first to break their oral embrace. She sat up on her original’s belly and pressed her hands into Diane’s breasts, kneading the immense, furry pillows. Diane let out a pleased coo.

“Let’s say we finally ‘unwrap’ you, shall we?” The copy suggested.

The world turned on its side as she found herself suddenly being flipped over. She yelped in excitement, and before she knew what was happening, her original was on top of her, straddling her as she’d been doing a second ago. “Whoa!” She paused to let out an excited breath. “My, my, Diane. You’re feeling even feistier than I.” The original kneaded her leather pads across her clone’s wide areola, delivering tingling shocks of pleasure to her body. The copy hummed approvingly.

“What can I say? I just couldn’t wait for you to get me out of this.” The original Diane explained. She unzipped her dress from behind and let the garment slip off her shoulders and away from her breasts, unveiling the same tits as those lying right before her.

“You just wanted to see if you could pull off one of our moves on me, didn’t you?”

“Ehhhh. Maybe a little.” The original admitted, pulling her dress over her head and tossing it to the floor behind her. All that remained of her clothes were her black, satin panties. “How about I try out a few ‘less combative moves?” She placed her hands back down upon her double’s tits and massaged the soft, furry flesh beneath them. The clone closed her eyes and let her head rest against the duvet, a pleased moan vibrating in her throat.

“I like these moves.” She murmured. The original Diane swooped down and placed her muzzle on the clone’s neck, lapping the orange fur before nipping playfully at her pelt and following up with a sensual kiss. She lingered there, taking little love bites of her other self and smoothing them out with a taste from her tongue or a peck of her lips. The virile scent and taste of the wolf accompanied that of her own.

“Mmmmm, I can still smell that mutt on you.” The original Diane commented. “I can taste him, too.”

“Yeah?” The copy Diane asked, her words hot and breathy. “I wonder what other places on me you can still taste him.”

“We’ll find out soon enough, gorgeous.” The original Diane murmured into her copy’s ear. “But first, let’s have a little romp.” She switched her legs as she brought herself up, positioning one between her copy’s legs and the other outside of them. Their gigantic breasts squeezed together between them, their nipples teasing each other. The two locked muzzles again, the original Diane sharing the once-wolf’s dwindling musk that had gathered on her tongue.

They hummed and moaned into each other’s muzzles, only breaking their kiss to gasp or yip in pleasure. The latter sounds were a result of the original Diane grinding her thigh into her clone’s sopping pussy, while rubbing up on the other’s leg. The clone rolled her hips with the original’s motions, coaxing as many sensations from the soft texture of Diane’s pelt. The original’s fur matted with her double’s feminine juices, the bright orange turning a more fitting crimson as the dampness darkened it.

As the identical vixens bumped and ground against each other’s voluptuous bodies, the sensitive flesh of their nipples smoothed over their counterparts, stimulating their upper bodies as much as their lower bodies, lavishing either of them with a full-body experience that had both quivering in ecstasy. Every rocking, stroking motion they made against the other unlocked deeper levels of libido. They wanted more, and both knew their counterpart could deliver in full.

“Fuck, you’re good at this.” The clone said, breaking their kiss to breathe her words into her original’s triangular ear.

“You’re one to talk. This is the wildest sex I’ve ever had. And we’ve barely begun,” The original replied.

“Hey, well. It helps when you know exactly what your partner likes.”

The original Diane lifted herself away from her second self. She gazed into the other’s half-lidded eyes. Both of them continued rolling their hips into their other selves, huffing and mewling as they shared each other’s sultry gazes, their breasts serving as gigantic cushions between them.

“If we’re this good already, imagine how we’ll feel when we kick things up a notch?” She lowered her hands to her copy and massaged her ears.

“Imagine all those special spots we know to finger, suck, and lick.” The copy said. The original Diane cocked her eyebrow.

“Indeed. Although, the licking option sounds more desirable at the moment.”

“Oh, I agree.” The copy replied, adding a sensual spin to her voice. The original Dianne started peeling her panties off, but only got them halfway down her thighs when she was interrupted. In an unexpected move, the copy turned, rolling her original off of her and onto her back. The clone Diane rolled with her, winding up on top, straddling her just as her original did before. The original Diane chuckled.

“Had to even things out, didn’t you?” Diane asked

“You’d do just the same.” The copy retorted.

“Too true,” Diane admitted.

Diane’s copy repositioned herself, turning one-hundred and eighty degrees on her hands and knees until her face aligned with her original’s wet, needy pussy. The original Diane gazed up into the glistening cleft of her own pussy as her copy hovered her hips above her face. “I see you’re not one for taking turns.” She said.

“Neither are you.” The copy replied.

“Touche.” Diane quipped. “Better to stay in sync, right?”

“My thoughts exactly.” The copy said.

No more words were spoken as Diane’s copy plopped her sex down onto Diane’s awaiting muzzle. The copy lowered her head and stuffed her muzzle between the original’s legs. With their breasts as large as they were, the copy barely had to keep herself aloft. She lay on the copious cushions that were their bosoms and went to work, dining on her original’s sopping snatch.

Their identical coos and muffled moans floated about the room, either vixen grinding their snouts into the sex before them, tongues lashing out hungrily. Both knew just what they wanted and gave the other precisely that, hitting all the right spots in all the correct sequences of motions. For either Diane, it was heaven.

Diane would lap up and down, putting her neck into it, and so would her copy. Her copy would scoop upward to flick her clit with the tip of her tongue, and so would she. She’d press her wet nose against her copy’s love button as she dove her tongue inside her copy’s hole, her copy following right behind her. They played out this sensual, lust-craven dance with their mouths in perfect harmony, neither faltering in pace or position.

Their moans grew louder despite being muffled. Both Dianes crammed their gaping snouts into the other’s love pocket, plunging deep inside with their long, dexterous, vulpine tongues. The world around them ceased to exist. All that mattered was their indistinct partner’s gratification, knowing they’d receive the same in kind.

A warmth gathered in their groins, flowing out across their abdomens and throughout their thighs. They were both so close, and their climaxes were assured. They wriggled their tongues inside their identical lovers, hitting every nerve ending, pressing against their g-spots, tasting the flavor of their own arousal, flooding across every tastebud.

Both vixens squealed as orgasm overtook them. Their legs shook, their bellies quivered, their ears flattened against their heads, and their brows knitted as the vanguard waves of ecstasy washed over them. Each knew the other was cumming, and neither would be stopping for anything. They went harder, licked faster and deeper, and pressed their muzzles almost entirely inside their lover’s hole.

The ragged noises coming from the furry, orange pile on the bed would sound almost painful to outside observers, but for both Dianes, it was anything but. The two were helping each other reach levels of nirvana that few lovers could even imagine, and fewer would experience. They were two individuals, but they loved each other in a way that made them one.

They were one. They were Diane Foxington. The Crimson Paw.

Both vixens yanked their heads back, withdrawing from their other’s flooded sex. They drew in long and ragged breaths, having lost track of the last time they’d breathed. When those breaths were finally released, they came out in rough moans, the residual sensations still wracking their nimble bodies.

The clone rolled off her original and let herself fall onto the bedspread, exhausted. The two lay on their backs, panting and lazily writhing in the afterglow of their exotic, erotic experience.

“That was…” The clone said.

“…Breathtaking.” The original replied.

“Finishing each other’s sentences already, are we?” The clone asked between labored breaths.

“What can I say?” The original began, taking another breath. “We were made for each other.”

The clone chuckled. “Well, I definitely was.”

The two shared a giggle and sat up by their arms, looking into each other’s eyes.

“I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” The original said.

“Same here.” Agreed the clone.

“If only everyone was as lucky to have a copy of themselves.” The original suggested. The clone continued her original’s thought.

“If only everyone had the chance to find…”

“True love…” Both said in unison, then giggled again.

The two nestled up to one another and cuddled in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s familiar warmth. They’d nearly drifted off to sleep when the original Diane’s smartwatch rang with a preset alarm.

“Ugh.” She groaned, turning off the alarm. “I have to get ready to unveil the emerald.” The clone Diane rolled on her side and rested her head on her arm, gazing longingly at her original.

“A shame we have to be apart, my love.”

“It is..” Diane replied. “But a governor’s duty calls.” She paused to flash her double a cheeky side-eye and grin. “It’ll be our emerald in due time.”

“I’d accept nothing less, my love.” Replied the copy. Diane groaned and rolled out of the bed, snatching her dress and looking it over before stepping into it. She turned to her copy.

“Zip me up?” She asked. Her copy’s ears perked, and she crawled to the edge of the bed to help finalize the original’s outfit. “Thank you,” she mentioned once the garment was snug around her bust. Diane walked to her giant ensuite bathroom to wipe her copy’s arousal off her snout. “I’ll be another couple of hours. Make yourself at home while I’m gone. It’s as much yours as it is mine now. I’m sure you already know where everything is?”

The clone sprawled out on the bed again, lying on her side while stroking her nimble fingers up and down her side. “Oh, I will, dear. And I most certainly do.” Her eyes wandered to the bottom drawer of one of Diane’s many dressers, where they kept their ‘toys.’ Her eyes returned to the original Diane just in time to catch the vixen blowing her a quick kiss. She pretended to grab the blown kiss, then held her fist close to her heart. “Have fun, my love.” She said with a hint of sarcasm. The original began to head for the exit.

“Oh, you know I never do. Wealthy people are unfathomably boring. I’m just glad their weak, human noses won’t smell our…’activities’ on me.”

******************************************************************************

Years later….

Diane Foxington emerged from the crystal-clear water of the pool attached to the penthouse suite she’d booked for the month. The sun reflected off her soaked, matted fur. She giggled wildly as something tickled her feet, and she looked down to see her clone, still submerged, one hand clutching her ankle while the other wiggled her fingertips along her leathery footpad. The copy let go, and Diane treaded water to the pool’s edge before climbing out.

Diane’s copy, now named Diana, emerged before Diane, shaking the water from her head fur before looking up at her partner. Diane was clad in a blue two-piece, the top barely containing her breasts. They looked into one another’s eyes with playful yearning. “Hey, sexy.” She greeted. Diane blushed.

“You, of all people, should know it’s dangerous to tickle the bottoms of my feet.” She said.

“Oh, I know. That’s what makes it all the more fun.” Diana said, climbing out of the pool beside her lover. Diane watched the second vixen exit the pool in her stylish, revealing, white one-piece, straining to hold her massive bust just like hers did.

Dianna sat close to Diane, their legs dangling into the water beneath. They held each other’s hand as Diana rested her head on Diane’s shoulder. A silver band adorned the ring finger of each embracing hand.

Their gaze was fixed across the city skyline, far from their lavish, affluent hotel. The world’s tallest building rose into the sky like a spear, the location of their tenth and biggest heist together. It was most likely the biggest heist they’d ever do.

“That’s where the emerald is…” Diana murmured whimsically.

“Right at the top…” Diane added.

“Go over the plan with me again,” Diana asked. Diane smirked. They knew the plan like the back of their paws, but Diane knew better than anyone that a good plan always got her wet.

“Ok, well,” Diane began. “First, we’re going to parachute to the top from that plane we hired, no questions asked. We’ll be using our new wing suits, of course.” Diane’s ear twitched when Diana made a soft coo. The other vixen was already getting worked up, and she’d barely begun. “Then we’re going to access the floor the emerald is on by climbing down the side of the building.”

“Yeah…” Diana swooned. “Then what?” Diane gladly continued, her tone taking on a more sensual edge.

“Then we’ll cut our way into the suite through the window.” There was a soft moan from beside her. Diane would be lying to say she wasn’t getting damp as well, in places the pool water just couldn’t reach.

“Then we’ll sneak around the motion-detecting cameras and laser alarm systems,” Diane said. Her arousal reverberated in the tone of her voice. She blushed under her fur. Diana shuddered against her.

“Mmmm,” Diana hummed. “That’s going to be s-so f-fucking difficult.” She sounded like she could barely contain herself. Diane was having trouble herself. Her gaze fell to Diana’s lap, where her beloved rubbed herself between her legs.

“Then, we’ll reach the two security panels and hack into it simultaneously, deactivating the alarms while gaining access to the vault-“ Diane was cut off by Diana, who’d let go of her paw and drawn her hand to Diane’s muzzle, pulling it toward her and pressing their lips together. The two kissed, opening their mouths to accept the other’s tongue. Diana hastily broke their embrace to speak desperate words to her original.

“I want you so bad, Diane.”

“I know you do. And you know I want you too.” Diane replied. “Should we head to the bedroom?” She knew the answer but asked in case Diana couldn’t make it that far without jumping her. She’d gladly fuck her beloved right there on the patio. It was all a question of how long they could hold back their lust.

“Yes!” Diana blurted. She grabbed Diane’s hand and led her across the private patio to their bedroom. The two collapsed on the bed, Diana on top of Diane, the two hungry with lust, their matted fur dampening the sheets and their giant breasts pressing together. Diana reached downward and slipped her hand beneath Diane’s bottom, her fingers gliding between her original’s soaked pussy lips. Diane gasped sharply, then moaned. Diana leaned forward and whispered in Diane’s triangular ears.

“Of all the vaults and safes we’ve cracked, there’s no place I have more fun breaking into than the place between your legs.”

Diane swooned at her copy’s words. There was no truer statement uttered between the two.

Diane felt precisely the same way…