The Glory of Police Work

Story by Ceeb on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A quickie commission for my supercool otter pal Kaz! I really love this character. Sassy dickgirl otter who can legally put you in bondage - what's not sexy about that? <:3c

Thumbnail background is from Textures.com.

Writing (C) me

Kaz (C) FA: kaztheotter


It was the second time that day Officer Kaz had been by Black Liquorice, the rowdy new fag club with the dumbest name she'd seen in years. Black Liquorice? Makes me think of that Good & Plenty shit old people eat. When she was by the first time, she'd been twirling her truncheon like a baton, just a silent, but showy reminder of who the law was. She was small, par for the course for an otter, but she was built and looked mean. The faggots parted before her like the Red Sea, making a clear path to the perp in question: a typical drunk fuck who got too grabby with the wrong twink and got his nose busted. Blood and vomit streaked his rainbow shirt, crisscrossing with the horizontal bands like a sissy version of an inverted crucifix. She dragged him out and took him into the station for processing.

Kaz was off-duty now, but she came back in uniform, truncheon holstered and tapping arrhythmically on her thigh, can of Mace gleaming under a leather snap. All that had changed was she had put her badge in her pocket so she could pass off the uniform as a costume. And why not? Dozens of other writhing, rubbing, blowing faggots were in costume too. Most of them were Village People biker rejects, sure, but some of those little princesses were indeed playing dress-up as police officers.

She leaned the flank of her hip on the bar and slapped a few dollars down on it. "Beer me," she barked. "And where you gotta go to get a blowjob around here?"

Behind the bar was a rabbit, college-age as Kaz guessed, but most of his youthful face was hidden under piercings. He eyed her dubiously, studying her face not for its expression (smug, of course) but for masculine features. Her breasts were subtle - that was convincing. The crossdressing ones usually went for gigantic clown tits in his experience. If he had been able to see her crotch, he would have known then and there she had something unusual going on, but she was too close to the bar. He put down a bottle of Budweiser.

"I'd rather drink piss," Kaz said, twisting the cap off. "It'll do, I guess. Lucky I'm not on duty, you bastard."

"We have Miller," he said with disinterest, the vocal equivalent of a shrug.

"Both of 'em are pisswater," said the red-headed otter, and she had a swig of it. Then, absently and drifting away, "There's gotta be somethin' to fuck around here..."

There were plenty of things to fuck if you wanted entranced doe-eyed sissies tripping on ecstasy and meth. Blow wasn't as common, but she noticed some cokeheads here and there sporting that telltale furtive look and the ugly signs of bruxism. Well, Kaz thought, catching sight of two young men popping tablets that looked like oversized antacids, thank god I'm off-duty or I'd never find time to get my prick wet here.

Kaz chugged down three more beers before she even started to feel tipsy. It was the burden of being built: Kaz was only five-foot-seven, but she could outdrink a horse. Getting shitfaced was prohibitively expensive, and that was the only way she could see herself deigning to fuck one of the dime-a-dozen queers ebbing and flowing around her like an ocean reeking of ball sweat and fake leather harnesses. Fuck this place, Kaz thought, getting an angry sneer on her face. I'm gonna go to the gym and scam on some jock assholes.

First things first, the beer was sluicing right through her. Pisswater in-fuckin'-deed, thought the otter. She muscled through the crowds and found the restrooms. The info graphic for the ladies' room had misshapen breasts crudely drawn on it. Adding to the block letters that read LADIES was drunken script: _i fuckin hate LADIES cuz dick roolz. _Kaz shook her head and walked into the mens' room, her goal all along.

Each and every one of the urinals were in use. Kaz didn't break stride on her way to the sit-down stalls. It didn't even catch her eye that two drunk, older queers, a bear and a lion, were leaning over the little partitions to make out while they pissed together. Nothing gay guys did ever surprised her; she'd seen too many desensitizing sights as a police officer.

Kaz flipped up the lid, opened her fly, flopped out her fat dong. It dangled like a tired snake, the head of it barely visible for the pucker of foreskin. She started to piss, letting out a sigh as she did, and she leaned on the stall wall, making it creak.

From the crotch-level hole in the wall, somebody peeked, and they liked what they saw. They liked it a lot. The sight of some seven or eight inches of dick (whether it belonged to a lady or not) was something no glory hole-policing faggot could resist, that was for sure. For that particular sissy, the fact that that dick was pissing only added to the thrill, but he waited until the otter started shaking off to make his move.

Tap-tap. Kaz looked down, still gripping her member in a webbed paw. She followed the sound when it came again: tap-tap-tap. And then, "Psst." At last she saw it: a glory hole. It was subtle, surprisingly, sporting no graffiti arrows or lurid text, but there was crusted jism splattered around it like frosting on a messy eater's mouth following a slice of cake and a big dollop of ice cream. Beyond that mess, it was just a bored and smoothed hole in the particle board. Kaz sniggered and tap-tapped back on the wall, then guided her sleepy prick through it. She reached for the lever and flushed her rank beer piss away.

Whoever was on the other side of that glory hole was very happy to receive such a generous gift. They started with a gentle touch, merely held it up. Soft pads, softer fur - Kaz could tell already that whoever was kneeling on the other side was a bona fide faggot to have such nice paws. Then came the licks, firm and greedy on the glans and the scrunched-up foreskin. They were licking off the piss she hadn't shaken away. Nasty fuck, Kaz thought, grinning ear to ear.

Kaz's penis stiffened lazily, always so slow to wake up. As the shaft grew, the foreskin retracted naturally, baring a pink glans which had no shortage of liquid musk to drool.

Soft canine jowls closed around her flesh, making Kaz coo and bite her lip. She ground forward needlessly; she couldn't have gotten any further inside. That boy on the other end gulped down to what would have been the balls. Kaz imagined him smooching the filthy hole, and as with his worshipful cleanup of her post-piss dick, this nastiness pleased her too. Her rudder swished madly.

It was hard to hear over the din of flushing urinals and the trickle of Kaz's refilling commode, but the boy was sucking. Through the thin partition, it came to Kaz's ears as snck-snck-snck, going on endlessly. He was good, whoever he was. He built up a hard seal, then popped it off noisily. And then he'd start sucking again, making another snug seal, pushing her a little further each time. Like a pecker pump, his suckles made her throb harder, bloating those blood chambers in her meat, making her thicker. Veins popped from the surface, pulsing like angry serpents against the velvety innards of his maw.

Kaz nuzzled the wall, eyes clenched and teeth grinding. Shit, shit, shit! I'm gonna bust my nut in no time if this little fag keeps this up...

The harder Kaz throbbed and the thicker she got, the more the narrow hole in the wall gripped her. It held the base of her prick like a cock ring. The head of her penis, already a rich shade of purple, became even more vibrant. She drizzled pre into his mouth like a spigot left open just a half-twist. Her balls, plush and sweaty, were getting tight in the crotch of her trousers. She raked her small lutrine claws down the wall, putting scratches over other scratches left for the same reason by countless other lucky bum-punchers.

So began the tongue lashing. The skilled sissy wrapped his tongue around her cock inside the confines of his maw. He corkscrewed it around her and squeezed with all his might, and the purple, veined flesh grew all the more taut with arousal. She caught herself about to cry out and bit her lip instead. Tough dickbitches like her didn't whimper and gasp when they popped, they grinned and growled, because that was just how it worked.

Louder now and more drawn-out: sssnck! sssnck! sssnck!, his suckles trading speed for strength. Kaz rolled back her pretty green eyes and shuddered, splaying her arms against the wall and squishing her jugs against it. It felt like her cock wanted to literally explode. The tight hold of the wall was actually painful, but the extra blood in her penis just made it more tender, more vulnerable to the fag's ministrations. Was this on purpose? Did he routinely trap dicks for the suck of a lifetime, or was Kaz just sporting enough of a chode that the stars lined up just right?

It didn't matter, not to Kaz, and certainly not to the sissy guzzling down her pre and sucking her like a vacuum cleaner. It was all about dick. The taste of the sweat and the pre, that little bit of piss that hid in the foreskin no matter how hard you shook off, and of course the smell of cock, both the one sticking through the hole and the ambient stench of them that was ingrained in the cheap partition wall from so much penile contact. It was about pleasure too, and of that, there was an abundance. Kaz shuddered and pounded the wall with a fist. She was squirting.

Jizz rocketed into the unknown boy's maw, splattering on his svelte tongue, caking in the ribs of his palate. He wasted none. All of it was gulped down, guzzled with the utmost grace and respect as fast as Kaz could pump it out - which was damn fast. She groaned like a whore, gyrating, pushing her hips and nuts against the wall. Her discolored shaft throbbed hideously in that tight mouth, veins bulging hard to add exhilarating texture. At that moment in time, Kaz really thought her cock was going to burst. She'd never felt it so tightly squeezed, and it was so full of blood which rushed in but had almost no outlet... and then the boy let off, popping his lips off of her.

Still he said nothing, and he had no intention of showing his face. In the afterglow, as Kaz's cock safely (but slowly, preventing a hasty exit) fell flaccid, he smooched its purple knob as if to say I thank thee for a lovely evening, o purple-helm'd knight, but now other glories await me! He left his stall to vanish into the crowd outside, and Kaz never would know whose mouth it was which had sucked her dry. Truly the most ideal glory hole experience.

Leaning on the wall while she waited for her prick to deflate, Kaz felt like one of those guys who had a knot on the bottom of his dick. It wasn't a feeling she much liked, being stuck to the thing she'd just fucked, but in that moment of repose she thought: Black Liquorice, such a fucking dumb name for a club! Not a bad place to get your prick wet, though...