FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

=This is a work of complete fiction. Any names or likenesses to any characters is purely coincidental. This is an adult story, and no minors under the age of 18 or otherwise stated by your local laws and regulations are permitted to read or distribute this work under any circumstances. Under no conditions can the author of this story be held responsible for any illegal acts that this story may invoke or cause otherwise. The author claims all legal rights over this and other stories presented by and from him. The author can not be accounted for any sticky or gooey mess that you leave behind, but is happy to know that you enjoyed it. Happy Fapping=

"Men are not prisoners of fate, but prisoners of their own minds"

-Franklin D. Roosevelt

The room was barren of thoughts and of noise. The silent wind outside the windows barely gave hint of its existence other than the gentle tapping upon the shutters. The grey house that stood at the end of the street at the end of the block was tall and domineering, yet gave little to no hint of life. No sounds came from the kitchen. No noise resonated from the living room. No voices in the bedrooms. Not even a creak in the attic.

Through the midst of the two-story house was only two bedrooms at the top of the cold stairwell. In the largest and most grand was a bed of two parents. Johnathon, somewhere in his late forties, and Mary-Anne, caught between her looks of late twenties and her actual age of early forties, laid upon the bed. Their eyes looked at nothing and into nowhere as a fixed expression of terrifying fear petrified their faces into stone cold gazes of agony.

Johnathon's pajamas were tattered and torn in various places upon his stomach and groin, showing small hints of blood-stained fur underneath. Mary-Anne's paws clutched desperately to her throat; her claws fiercely tried to hold the enormous slash across it intact long enough for her gaped maw to let out a silent scream for salvation. On her right paw there was a small hint of a golden ring that had been tarnished with cold, dried blood. Johnathon's ring, however, sat peacefully upon the nightstand - untouched - only to bear silent witness to the gruesome acts that occurred hours ago.

The other bedroom housed scattered toys and books. The dawn was barely breaking in through the window pane as a gentle glow of the morning to come barely illumination to red paw prints that lead from the other bedroom, circling the bed, and finally attaching themselves to the feet of a small boy who sat in silence.

His face was barren of thought and emotion. The face that held no illusive feelings to the terrible occurrences that had just happened was beginning to tighten and harden as the crimson coating of his parent's last moments of lives began to dry and crack into flakes. He sat naked and bloody, holding between his fourteen year-old paws a black barber's razor that too was beginning to show signs of a crimson coating as the sun began to break into the bedroom.

It had been hours without sound, but to the disturbed young feline, it might as well have been decades. His fur was black and grey striping, but that could have confused even the sharpest of eyes, as his entire coat had been tainted by the blood of his sleeping parents. His bed had been untouched and unslept in for days. All the young male could do was lay upon it and dream. His dreams were his only solitude to his waking nightmare that he had to endure day in and day out. Now, his dreams became his nightmares, and his nightmare now slept peacefully.

The sun, which had been reluctant to touch the house with it's forgiving rays of hope, finally reached their way into the bedroom window and illuminated the fourteen year-old cat's eyes. The pupils reacted and began to retreat into the iris to shield themselves, while the mind had no way to hide from what they had witnessed.

After what seemed to be ages of statue-like composure, life began to stir into the feline's body. His face forced his head to glare into the opposite side of the room. It turned slowly and painfully, as the dried fur snapped and crinkled from the blood that caked it so abundantly. No emotion showed in the young male's face, but his eyes - his eyes that had witnessed so many atrocitys with desperate and inhibited pleas for help - fixed upon the unlit portion of the bedroom.

Both the beds that laid opposite of each other in the room were identical in every way, say for the ones that inhabited them. The butcher that laid in silent reverie clutched the barber's blade in a menacing grip and glared upon the pointed ears and long snout that lay rested in the bed opposite of him. In a voice, too pacified to be natural, the boy gave a silent whisper into the dawn that approached to his companion's bed post in loving hate.

"Good morning... little brother."

* * * * *

THIRTY YEARS LATER

* * * * *

The bell to the elevator dinged loudly as the doors slid open slowly, only to have the dull and drab music drowned out by phones ringing, people talking and screaming, papers shuffling, feet stomping, and fugitives crying.

The only inhabitant of the elevator this morning was a tall and dominant wolf. His shoes upon his foot paws were of black leather and tightly bound laces. Carelessly mismatched socks barely peaked out from underneath long brown dress pants that were carefully supported upon his six foot, three inch tall frame by long black suspenders. A bleached-white collared and buttoned shirt clutched his frame tightly and comfortably, yet the once iron-pressed sleeves were now rolled up angrily in a rushed manner. The only thing that took attention away from the sleeves was the grey fur that poofed out precariously and the crimson tie fastened so delicately around his neck.

As the male took the first striding step forward and out of the elevator, his paws balanced a large briefcase and a styrofoam cup of coffee carefully. His long stride swayed his hips softly while his tail kept at a steady height, helping to maintain balance. Around his hips was a thick black belt that held two symbols. The first was a golden badge that flashed in the early morning sun, and the second was the black holster that housed an equally black pistol that the wolf carried with him always - even to bed.

His fixed, stern eyes glared forward to an empty office at the back of the room. An expressionless face held no concern for the crying mothers, the screaming males, or the frantically yelling officers that screamed at both the phones and convicts at their desks. As he strode with his silver eyes blazing with intent, he simply used his shoulder as a battering ram to force upon the empty office door, cursing under his breath as the coffee in his paw dribbled it's charcoal colored contents upon the cleansed fur. He quickly threw down his briefcase upon the desk and set down the coffee quickly to angrily shake his paw to help ease the hot burning sensation that the styrofoam cup barely was able to mask. The slamming of the office door eased him for a moment as the outside world was temporarily silenced. Sitting into his chair, he instinctively brushed his bushy tail to one side to sit more comfortably. This relaxation, however, was only temporary.

Before the wolf could even get a chance to open his briefcase, his door was burst open, and for a second, the outside world of the life of a New York City officer rang back into the male's sensitive ears.

"Commissioner Adams," said the tall and thin fox that burst into the office, "we need your approval on the Jamison case." She strode into his office and slammed the door with her free paw. Under her other arm were a stack of numerous papers and files, in which she tossed the top file on top of the wolf's desk in front of him.

"Is that the domestic disturbance case?" asked the wolf, leaning forward to casually open the file.

"No, it's the cub sex offender case," replied the vixen. Her long hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail, keeping her beautifully shaped face clear of obstruction. Wearing nothing more than a simple long, black skirt over a white button-up blouse, her dress coat had been left at some other part of the building. Her rank was shown in the office and to the officer by the large badge that was attached to the holster over and around her well-toned arms.

"Hm, getting younger and younger every year," came Commissioner Michael Adams' controlling voice as he paged through the file. "Twenty-six years old," he said, reading through page upon page of paperwork, "high school drop-out, no recent job history, parents divorced, never married, and he assaulted his nine year-old niece. Jesus Christ, when will these guys ever learn?"

"With all do respect Commissioner," replied the fox, "the perpetrator is a male in his twenties, which makes him a high-risk for irrational behavior. Guy lives with his grandmother, doesn't work, makes her pay the bills with her social security, and offers to babysit his niece for extra cash. If anything, it should be the parents in orange jumpsuits for being stupid enough to let this scumbag watch their daughter. I mean, the guy doesn't even have-"

"Save it, Lieutenant," interrupted the Commissioner. "I already know more than I care to know." Taking a pen from his desk, the wolf artistically signed his name on the file and slammed it shut angrily. "The guy obviously has issues with women, and by the looks of his mugshot, his weight too. He basically reached out to the only one who looked at him without judging."

"Well, they're all the same. Lowlifes who can't stop blowing a load in their pants when some sniffing bitch comes humping on his-"

"HEY!" exclaimed the higher-ranking wolf. "Your job is to supervise your department and precinct, not cast judgment on the ones on the other end of the law."

The fox, turning her head to the side and swallowing hard from her superior's verbal lashing, stayed quiet for a moment before replying, "Yes sir. I didn't mean anything by it." She finally turned and looked to her Commissioner, always enjoying staring at his well-kept, oiled hair and well-maintained grooming. Even when she knew he was mad at her, she always had problems looking away from his obviously handsome looks. "By the way, your wife called, said that dinner was going to be all on you, as she's busy tonight."

The wolf, finally getting his briefcase opened, payed little attention to the news as he began to pull out files upon files from the small container. It wasn't the first time it had happened, as he was always away on his job for long hours, and his wife too, having to work late hours as well at the local college, never seemed to pay each other much attention. For years, even, the only words spoken in their household were commonly 'Good night' and 'Good morning'. The only retort he would give in response was a muffled grunt of acknowledgment.

Finally, the well-built wolf interjected through the conversation. "Jess, do we have any word on the Phoenix case?"

Jessica Raven Morganson, or Jess for short, simply shrugged her shoulders in an immediate response. "Guy who stabs his girlfriend eight times in the chest and once in the womb to try and kill her and their pup doesn't want to be found," she stated. "For all we know, he's swimming to Canada."

"Well he's going to have a long drop at Niagara," Michael said to his desk as he rummaged through paper work.

"Oh, so it seems the Commissioner DOES have a sense of humor," Lieutenant Morganson said with a slight grin. She always knew her boss to be uptight and was thrilled to see that sometimes he pulled the stick out of his tailhole every now and then for a casual joke.

"No," said the Commissioner as he checked his watch, "but I do got a sense for tardiness." Quickly grabbing a few choice files from the stack upon his unorganized desk, he placed them into his briefcase, closed it, and began to stand up. With a few more files under one arm, his briefcase in one paw and his coffee in another, he began to make his way for the door. "Call upstate to Chief of Police and put out an all-watch bulletin at the river and the state lines for Phoenix. We don't want this guy to get far."

Side-stepping and politely opening the door for her commanding officer, Jess watched her boss rush away to what she assumed was the early-morning meeting which she knew he was already late for. "Will do, Commissioner," she said to the back of his head as he stormed down the hallway.

As she slowly let the door slam shut, Jess' eyes followed the storming wolf to the meeting room with a hungry longing. "There goes the finest piece of tail this shit-hole has to offer, and he's already off the market." Rolling her eyes and opening the door for herself, her thoughts quickly ran to three years ago when he was still single and they were off and on dating. "Should've broke him off one," she said to herself before letting the door slam behind her.

* * * * * * * * *

Back at Michael's small apartment, he opened the door and closed it behind him. The meeting he was late for, the paper work he was behind in, and the complaints and harassing phone calls had left the wolf drained and exhausted. With one paw, he blindly locked and latched the door and tossed his suitcase on a nearby seat. Loosening his tie, he turned on lights as he walked down the short hallway before hitting the button on his answering machine, only to hear that he had no new messages.

Walking into his small kitchen, he opened the fridge and inspected what there was to eat. There were meats, breads, fruits, vegetables, and a case of beer. Being a dominant, full-throttle male, he just grabbed a beer and sat himself down at his couch. Turning on the television, he listened to news reports talking of all recent tragedies he had heard several times during the day before he popped opened his beer.

Removing his badge, holster, gun, and finally his belt which also housed various officer tools, he sat back comfortably, sipped his beer, and watched TV in case a new break in any cases emerged.

With two hours gone and one case of beer empty, Michael switched off the television and began to make his tiresome track to the bedroom. His wife was still not home, and the only sounds in his apartment were the never ending sounds of traffic, people, and sirens. The music of the city, he once called it, was now a racket he couldn't stand. His passion for police work and his love for the city had forced him to stay here all these years, even making him suffer through a sexless marriage for almost a full year now.

Switching off lights as he went, he finally turned on the light to his bedroom and sat upon the bed. Between his paws, he clutched his nine-millimeter semi-automatic hand gun. It was his only true love, as many times it had saved his life by taking the lives of others. Through sheer automatic gestures, he placed the handgun at the side of his bed - barely visible by slipping the butt underneath the bedsheets. Checking the time as it was nearly twelve o'clock, he knew the hustle and bustle of the city was going to start up soon as the bars would soon close.

Not being one for modesty in his own place, the wolf began to strip himself of all his clothing. Removing his tie and tossing it to the floor, he began to long and tiresome duty of unbuttoning his shirt. As he slipped it off, his eyes met with small patches of missing fur and scars that hid underneath. Wounds that he had encountered from years on the force. Some were odd shapen, some were small, and yet he still could re-tell the story behind each and every one of them. They were his own reminder of the dangers in the world, despite having a knowledge of it at a very young age.

Untying his shoes and tossing them aside, he slipped off his suspenders. He knew they were for support, while his belt was only to support his gear. Finally unzipping his pants, he casually pulled them and his boxers down his strong legs. Despite being very cold and uncaring about the world, the wolf was still very happy with the size of his sheath. Lately, its been his only comfort in the world - that and a tall bottle of whiskey. Still, he idolized his large package and enormous sack before kicking his discarded clothing to the side.

As he crawled underneath his bedsheets, he picked up a nearby remote control and switched on his bedroom television set. Switching it straight to the news, he crawled underneath his warm, inviting blankets and began to rest at ease. Of course, his mind was still tracing over the thoughts of what had happened from the day, and rest always came very uneasily for him.

Soon, he began to force his thoughts to other things. Even the sound of the low volumed television and the noise of the city began to drown out in the male's ears. Thoughts became of a carnal, lustful nature, as he began to remember how he still has not had sex in nearly eleven months.

Underneath the bed sheets, the gruff male began to fondle his sheath. Closing his eyes, he found his other paw automatically reach over and began to cup and feel his large balls. The sheer weight of them forced a small moan from the male's mouth as he started to rub the 'sweet spot' on his sheath.

Not far into his relentless fondling, he simply reached over, grabbed the remote, turned off the TV, and hit the switch next to the bed to turn off the lights. Once again, his paws found their way to his groin as he began to touch and grope himself hungrily.

A few minutes into his grope fest, he decided to let one loose after so long. Even if he hadn't had sex in almost eleven months, it was almost six months since he had gotten release from his paws. It seemed like it was the only action he was getting these days. Pulling back his sheath, he began to grip his balls tightly, almost in anger, as he furiously stroked his length.

His canine cock was close to ten inches when flaccid, but as for most canines, it was always hard in this length thanks to the small bone that hid inside. The male's paws clutched onto his sheath and moved it up and down his pink member, making sure not to brush it with his rough pads for how sensitive it really was. With his other paw, he began to squeeze and tug on his black ball sack, envisioning a woman's mouth over it.

With eyes closed in thoughts of carnal fantasies, he began to groan to himself silently as he felt his length beginning to thicken and even grow longer in his paws. The once pink penis that he stroked so lovingly began to thicken and turn into a deep red color with purple-like veins stretching over the entire length. The pointed tip, which he knew to be the most sensitive, began to drip small, clear-colored drops of pre cum onto his furred stomach from his star-shaped piss slit. Below, his knot was starting to grow. Michael had always been impressed with this as well, as he was happy to know that his knot was bigger round than his own fist.

Reaching the peak of ecstasy, his length was full-grown and throbbing in painful lust. The ravenous wolf, letting out guttural sounds of joy and bliss, began to tug furiously on his balls and yank on his sack, dreaming more and more of a hot maw wrapped around them. With his paw just beneath his knot, he began to make small, gentle movements, imagining his length buried deep inside of a female's vagina. He imagined the warmth, the wetness, the internal muscles of their vaginal walls that drove him mad riding over his length furiously. More drops of pre cum began to drain from his tip, awaiting a full release.

Suddenly, his movements stopped as he heard a sound. Clicks, grinding, and finally the loud snap of the locks on his door beginning to open. As he spotted a dim light in the background being turned on from the open door of his bedroom, the wolf reluctantly removed his paw from his needful cock and found it's way around the butt of his gun.

Soon, his grip released as he saw the familiar contours of his wife's body. She was a very well-fit German Shepherd, and he loved every piece of her. Her shapely body, her firm breasts, her well-toned abs, and that perfectly rounded bottom drove the wolf insane sometimes. Still, all of him was very happy to know that he had legal rights to all of it.

As he saw his wife make her way from one room to another, he watched her slip into the bathroom for a moment and emerge in a simple grey nightie. Returning his paws to his awaiting cock, he watched her casually turn off the lights and blindly make her way into the bedroom.

Feeling the covers lift for a moment, the wolf shivered for a moment as a cool breeze met his moist member before feeling the weight of his wife rest next to him. A very flirtatious smile grew across the wolf's muzzle as he felt those well-kept legs brush against his own. Turning onto his side, he had no shame in casually rubbing his dripping wolf cock against his wife's thighs.

"Hey baby," he whispered silently, "I waited up for you. What do you say we have a little sex tonight?" The wolf couldn't help it as a gentle wag of his tail disturbed the sheets that covered both of their bodies in hopeful desire.

"Not tonight, honey - I've got a headache," came his wife's voice in the dark.

The wolf, now shut down, scowled for a moment before rolling over. He kept his back to his wife as he angrily finished the job by himself. Taking a nearby washcloth off the bedside table, he began to clean up the mess he had made before gently coaxing his shrinking cock back into his sheath before falling asleep. He'll try again tomorrow.

* * * * * * * * *

The next day brought no promise to anything interesting. Michael had showered, groomed, dressed, watched the morning news for anything interesting, ate a simple breakfast of bagels and coffee, and finally made the long drive to the Financial District in Manhattan. As he exited his car, locking it as he walked, he stared up at the large letters of 'NYPD' with a small sense of pride. If his wife didn't respect his needs, the need for obtaining respect from others always filled him with some form of gratification.

The day progressed as normal. Meeting in the morning, lunch was ordered in, files had to be sorted, criminal records had to be obtained, and the occasional phone call kept the virile male at ease behind his desk.

Around five in the evening, three knocks came to his glass office door. Before he had a chance to even raise his head to tell whoever it was to come in, Jess poked her head inside.

"Hey Mike, there's poker at Donatelli's tonight with the guys. You in?" she asked casually. Today, she had a long grey skirt on, a blue blouse, and a matching grey suit jacket that showed off her badge and single gold bar that symbolized her officer rank. To Michael's surprise, her hair was down today. He loved the deep orangish-red color as it bounced just past her shoulders; it was parted down one side with just one half of it pulled back behind one of her shapely ears. It was always a tease for the Commissioner to stare at one of his inferior officers and know he couldn't do anything without both of them getting into trouble.

"Heh... Liquor in the front, poker in the back!" came Michael's voice with a bright grin at his usual pun.

"Hm... Mike, seriously, that joke went out decades ago. The only ones who laugh at that anymore are the ones who work under your department," came Jessica's reply, sounding quite serious with a straight-faced look to her.

"What? I thought it was genuinely funny. All my friends laugh at it," came Mike's retort.

"That's because they're afraid you'll arrest them if they don't. You in or out?"

Letting out a deep sigh at Jess' casual banter, Mike could only shrug in defense. "Well I dunno. I guess I'll call the wife and ask her and see if she wants to do anything tonight."

A miffed Jessica finally allowed herself fully into her Commissioner's office and shut the door behind her slowly. "Mike, seriously, your wife doesn't even remember your own anniversary, and that was usually your job" she said bluntly, watching as a now irritated Michael turned his head away to go back to paper work. "She calls almost every day to say that she's busy at the college and has to stay late nights. And, last time I checked, classes were only in the morning."

Mike's head quickly jerked upwards to glare at Jess under furrowed eyebrows at her last remark. "What are you saying, Lieutenant? That my wife's cheating on me?"

Letting out a small sigh, forgetting that she was now speaking to her superior, Jess continued to talk like she used to with her previous ex. "Mike, I'm just saying that it seems a little strange that she's always working late nights at a building that isn't even open at nights. And no, I'm not saying she's cheating on you."

Nodding some in ascent, as he knew Jess was correct, Mike lowered his head back down to sort through some more paperwork. "Well... Alright then."

"...But I'm certainly thinking it loudly," Jess added quickly. "Just forget her for one night and come out and hang with us. You need a beer just like any other guy, and it's perfectly alright. Come on down. We'll be playing pool, darts, poker, and just bullshitting around. You need a break - you're too uptight. Some of the guys and I have a bet going on that you're a workaholic."

Michael slowly lifted his head and looked at Jess now with a look of curious concern. "You guys have a pool going on to whether or not I'm anal?... Lieutenant, how much money are you gambling in my district?"

"Well I was in thirty bucks that you weren't, but with a response like that, I think I just lost."

Michael could only growl softly in slight anger as he shook his head in annoyance before going back to paperwork.

"Listen, if you change your mind, we'll be down at Donatelli's at around eight tonight. I think it'd be fun if you came - it'd be like old times. You, me, the guys - it'll be a fun night," said Jess as she attempted to coax Michael to come along.

"Well... I'll think about it, okay? Just let me get back to my work..."

Jessica could only nod slightly as her mixture of red, black, and white colored paws came up to her head to casually brush a few stray strands of hair from her face behind her ear. Turning away, she took a hold of the door and proceeded to walk out.

"Oh, hey, wait Jess. Did you hear? They caught Donny Phoenix - the guy we're looking for on that domestic assault and attempted murder - they apprehended him earlier today."

Turning her head around, Jess could only look at Michael with a confused look of curiosity. "Really? They finally caught the son-of-a-bitch? Where'd they make the arrest?"

"Niagara Falls... Needed a hearse, not a patrol car."

"Ah... Go figure that you'd be right. Anyways, see ya later I hope." With that, Jess let the door slam behind her as she walked to the elevator to clock out from her shift being done and over with.

Opening file after file, Michael began the arduous task of signing files, matching records, and filling out release forms for various operations. The Commissioner couldn't help but smile at a few choice files, recognizing some of the men and women that he had the opportunity to arrest when he too was just an officer on the force. Some of the offenders were even convicted of crimes that he too had arrested them for in the first place. Some people just never learn.

Finally finishing up his large stack of paperwork, he began to take large stacks of files and carefully arrange them in his own personal file cabinet. Turning to his desk, he began to load a few choice files into his own briefcase. Some of the files and paperwork would need some more personal attention and careful thinking of his own, and he figured at home would be the best place for making decisions. Also, Michael's own decision on whether or not to go down to Donatelli's on Jess' invitation was on his mind. True, he had been down there many times with her and some of the police force, but he just wasn't sure on whether or not he would head down there this time or not. It was still confusing for him, especially the emotions he still had for Jess herself, but figured he'd think it over more once he got to his car.

As Michael was tossing more and more things into his suitcase, his head quickly jerked around as he heard his door open.

Standing before him was quite the knock out as she shut the door behind her. Before the wolf stood a panther who was just around five and a half feet tall and couldn't weigh more than one hundred and ten pounds. She wore black stilettos on her dainty feet that lead up her well shaped legs and thighs. She had a very expensive looking dress shirt that appeared to be some kind of Italian white silk with large black buttons. Over all this was a matching pin-stripe dress jacket and low-cut skirt that he knew Jess wouldn't be caught dead in. She was very well-groomed, but then again, most felines were. This one, however, was very well taken care of. Her fur was silky looking, her claws were manicured to perfection, and her whiskers looked like they were bleached as white as her teeth. Not to mention she had the most piercing green eyes that Michael had ever laid eyes on.

"Commissioner Michael James Adams I presume?" came her sultry, petite voice. Despite Michael being a married man, he still couldn't help but feel a tug in his pants as his sheath began to tingle slightly from the sight of her.

"Who wants to know?" came his gruff response. Despite his level of authority in his department, Michael still retained some of his gruff, on-the-force attitude.

"I'm Doctor Mellisa Cortéz of the San Francisco Maximum Security Psychiatric Hospital for the Criminally Demented and Insane. I believe you're familiar with our facility." The panther gave the wolf a piercing glare with those striking eyes of her. This woman didn't look to be either amused, concerned, or even caring in the slightest way. Having a job like hers must have naturally made her this cold.

Michael, on the other hand, began to shown signs of being very much infuriated and annoyed. He knew who she was now, and yes, he was very much familiar with the facility. "Yeah... I am. I was hoping I wouldn't have to be."

"Well Commissioner Adams, I'm-" she began.

"Please - call me Michael," interrupted the angry wolf as he fully turned to face the female.

"Well Michael, you're familiar with our facility and the patient that we have there I presume? It seems that we have some very strange news to give to you. His progress has taken a frantic turn for the worst in the most dangerous way. Beingst that you're his last known relative, I think it's best that we inform you that-"

"Whoa whoa whoa," interrupted Michael as he raised a paw to shush Ms. Cortéz's words. "What do you mean 'in the most dangerous way'? I thought he was locked up tighter than a matador's ass during a bullfight."

"Well, Michael, it seems that he had escaped-"

"He escaped?!" exclaimed Michael, now growing more enraged with this woman he had just met.

"No... He HAD escaped. He was recovered a week later after his initial escape."

Beginning a furious pace back and forth from his office, the agitated wolf began to angrily rub at his chin and his muzzle in an annoyed gesture. "And why wasn't I informed of this?"

"Well, you see Commissioner, his original trek actually was heading in the opposite direction of where you are, and we found there was no reason to inform you when he wasn't even heading in your direction. Not feeling that there was any need for alarm, our staff-"

"No need for ALARM!?" exclaimed Michael in return.

"Please, let me finish... Our staff felt it was better we get our local law enforcement on the case. Right when we were going to call the FBI in on the apprehension of him, we finally found him. He was recovered in a ditch over a hundred miles from our facility. He was very tattered and torn, and what we thought was wounds on him turned out to be five different types of blood that wasn't his. The next day, we got reports on five missing women from the local area, each of which matching the blood obtained from his clothing and body. What's worse, upon the contents retrieved in his pockets, we recovered a small list. We believe that he has abducted the women and has relocated them someplace. We don't know where, and we don't know why. We believe that he has done something that will endanger their lives. Worse, we speculate that these women will soon die if we don't do something immediately."

At this point, Michael began to pace even faster and harder, even interlacing his fingers behind his head as he listened intently. The fury he held now diminished into a furious concern for what had just happened. In his mind, Michael tried to abandon the thoughts of what had happened so long ago by replacing them with thoughts of his job. Now, however, it seemed his past had unearthed itself in the worst possible way.

Taking a seat on his desk finally, Michael loosened his tie and began to sigh heavily. "Well... What's all this have to do with me? I have no jurisdiction in San Francisco. And furthermore, what's your role in all of this?"

"Well I'm here on what I do, actually," said the feline as she began to stand up even taller and prouder. "Working through Mayo Clinic and various other medical research facilities, I have developed a very special kind of machine. Beingst that our patient won't cooperate or tell us anything of use, we're not legally allowed through the Geneva Convention to do anything harmful to his being to obtain said information. Now, my machine allows the thoughts of two individuals to merge under closely regulated and monitored medically induced comas. And, what we need you for-"

"What you need me for," interrupted the Commissioner, "is to be the one that you swap minds with."

"It's not exactly that simple, but you're the only candidate who will actually work for this radical new treatment. Right now, awaiting at JFK airport, is a transport that will take you to our offices located in San Francisco's psychiatric hospital. We need you to come with me immediately."

Lowering his head and finally unbuttoning the top button to his shirt, Michael knew he was at a loss. If the case was this serious, then his commanding chief would have already been informed. His position would be temporarily filled, and he would be scheduled for paid leave. He knew he wasn't going to make it to see Jess and the boys now, he would call his wife from the airport and have to tell her he'd be gone for a few days. There was nothing left for the old wolf to do now but cooperate.

Lifting his head and rubbing his face heavily with his right paw, he finally leaned back and let out a long, low, deep sigh of defeat.

"So... Tell me, Doc... When do I get to see my brother?"

END CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2 TO BE RELEASED UPON REQUEST

Author's Note: Well, this story took me over seven hours non-stop to dish out. Some might not like it, I think it came out rather nicely. Now, for those of you who DID like it, you gotta let me know whether or not I should put out the rest of the chapters. I think they'll be around nine or ten chapters maximum to finish this story, so if you really like how it's going and where it's heading, I will be happy to finish it. Yes, if I do continue on with the stories, there will be actual yiff scenes and such. Heck, if you REALLY liked the story, I'll even include Michael yiffing anyone and everyone you want me to make him yiff. Yes... The life of an author is great. In our own personal way of story-telling, we are gods to our characters, as our skill determines the outcome of their existence. Anyways, all that said and done, if you want me to continue this story, please let me know, because it is a story I like, and happens to be one I'm actually proud of. Let me know, please! Oh, and as always, constructive criticism is always welcomed, and I don't care how brutally honest you want to be. Ciao ^_^