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Officer Natasha Vsevolod strode purposefully through the dormitory. Her nightclub bounced against her thigh and her tail swished a looping, hypnotic swirl. Busting morons on college campuses was a boring assignment and her mind had begun to wander to more fulfilling things such as sex and vodka. Natasha understood that enjoying potato liquor was stereotypical of her. As with most times she was judged, she did not care.

Adult students passed her uneasily in the halls. Some who showed clear signs of drunkenness pressed into the walls as if attempting to blend into the wooden panels. The black panther enjoyed the terror on their faces, finding their fearful respect for her lawful authority deeply gratifying. Others looked at her hungrily, taking in her thick hips and bust with obvious interest. Her powerful Russian body was unbearably feminine, painfully desirable. To say Natasha did not appreciate the attention was a lie, but she cared not for leering fools.

She looked at the doors to the individual rooms. She was now in the forties. Spotting forty-nine, she stopped and rapped the door with her knuckles. "Los Angeles PD," she spoke in her dense Siberian voice. "I must speak with Desmond Lankett."

Natasha expected to hear sounds of scurrying and panic, perhaps a toilet flushing, in which case she would kick the door off its hinges to prevent the destruction of evidence. Instead the door opened almost at once, and standing in the frame was a primly-dressed fox with long blonde hair and a raccoon's mask. He smiled at her, showing no fear at her enormous size. "Well, hello, Officer," he said in a sissy redneck drawl to contrast her throaty accent. "I'm Desmond. Whatcha need?"

The panther held back a smile. Openness in a suspect was nothing new to her - oftentimes the wanted could be quite glib - but the prettyboy looks and syrupy accent threw her off for a moment. "Mr. Lankett," she said, "I have-."

"Oh, hey. I know what'cher here for," he slyly said. "C'mon in. I gotcha. No need for a guest of mine to stand out in the hall."

A breach in police conduct seemed acceptable here. Student bodies filled the hallway even at this late hour and she considered it very unlikely the sissy would make an attempt on her life. She silently stepped inside and allowed the door to be closed behind her.

"I am not sure you understand the reason for my visit," said Natasha.

Desmond smiled at her. Mischief crept into his features. "Sit down, Officer. Please."

"No, thank you," she stolidly replied, and left the dialogue open for him. She was curious what he thought he was getting away with.

"All right. All right, all right." Desmond sighed and leaned on the nearby wall. He arched his back and showed how slender and smooth he was beneath his fine button-down shirt. "I know you're here 'cause ya' know I'm sellin' a lil' pot."

The panther chuckled dryly. "Thank you for admitting to it so readily." She took the cuffs off her belt, reached for him. "If you would continue to be so cooperative..."

Desmond recoiled only slightly. "But look, Officer, y'see - I got nothin' left. S'all gone. Oh, sure, ya' might find some stems and seeds in the carpet, but-." Natasha took his wrist and snapped the cuff around it. He stared stupidly at it. "C'mo-o-on, Officer. Have a heart. College ain't cheap, ya' know."

"I am well aware." She took his other wrist and cuffed it too. She asked politely, "Too tight?"

Ignoring her, Desmond said, "Much as I hate sayin' such a cliche, there's gotta be somethin' we can work out... y'see, I notice you happen to be carryin' two guns."

Natasha, who never made a point of concealing her genitals, nevertheless found his observation amusing. "Are you suggesting sexual favors for your freedom?"

"Obviously." He smiled. It was a cute, sweet smile which matched his southern swish accent. "C'mon. What do ya' say?" He shrugged. "Pot's gonna be legal soon anyway, y'know. Lemme off and I'll get you off."

The panther sighed and took out the key. "You will rim me," she said firmly. "With your very pretty tongue." As Desmond began to titter in his elated, faggoty way, she added very firmly, "And then anal." A grin twisted her face up. "I warn you now that I am far bigger than the men you will meet in lockup."

Desmond rubbed his free wrists gratefully. "Aw, hell," he tutted. "I bet I got fake wieners bigger'n you are. But lemme see that pecker anyway."

Natasha was about to ask just what kind of toys he could possibly own to rival her but she silently acknowledged that she was speaking to a fox. Stereotypes were hurtful, yet the slutty fox was accurate with galling frequency.

The officer unbuckled her belt but still had to shimmy out of her pants which clung to her womanly body insistently. As they lowered, the heinous bulge of her genitals bounced into the open air, held in by rose-hued panties with minimal lace. She took stock of Desmond's thirsty gaze and smirked. "I will leave the next step to you. You appear eager."

He smiled at her pleasantly enough, but his eyes were narrow and sleazy. His gay paws grasped her thick hips and he began to draw his fingertips in towards her crotch, but stopped and moved them back. Down came her panties with the help of his sissy fingers, and her black cock flopped free. Balls the thickness of apples dangled beneath, heavy and dressed in the same black coat as the rest of her firmly muscular frame.

"Nice metal," he said in a coo, thumbing the silver ring of her Prince Albert. "Bet it makes peein' a bitch, though."

"It is worth the inconvenience to see boys like you squirm," she coldly replied. "Rim me."

"So bossy, just 'cause you're the one with a gun," tutted Desmond. Regardless of her firepower, he disobeyed her. Long fingers closed around her thick, flaccid penis and held it up as if it were erect. He kissed the glans from the side to get around the piercing, likening it to kissing someone on the cheek. "Gotcha a nice dick here, though..."

Natasha flicked his ear, made him hiss. "I have much to do this evening," she lied. "Do as you are told, or I will simply arrest you, boy."

"Oh, all right," Desmond bitched. He considered, then gestured to the futon against the wall. It was currently folded into its couch mode. "Sit down, if ya' don't mind. Make this a lil' more fun for both of us."

The panther stepped out of her pants but gathered them up and carried them with her. She still doubted that the boy would try anything with her, but training told her not to place any trust in him. As she sat down on the somewhat wallowed futon, the surface of which was dotted with short orange and black hairs, she laid her pants beside her.

While Desmond knelt down between her legs and made himself comfortable, Natasha undid the buttons on her uniform. Her breasts showed partially in the V-shaped gap and she felt some relief with the pressure off of them. "I must warn you," she spoke in her stern accent, "that it has been a very warm day. I should hope you will not mind sweat."

"Y'got a sweaty asshole?" Desmond asked, grinning impishly. "Naw. Figure I'll be all right with that."

"You are quite a slut," the panther dryly said. "No more talking. Work."

Desmond's paws cupped Natasha's heavy balls. He contemplated speaking favorably of their weight and scent, but his eyes flitted at her hard face and he thought better of wasting her time. His long snout slipped under her scrotum and he let it go, allowing the sack to sag over either side of his snout. Having his nostrils in her taint already put him in a crucible of her sweat and thin musk, and the effect only heightened when the pad of his nose bumped her pink anus. Involuntarily, he sniffed her. Pleasure tingled in the baser parts of his brain.

Slow, smooth laps from Desmond's tongue left Natasha outwardly stolid but inwardly pleased. She touched her cock, squeezing its stiffening length. A thick bead of precum oozed around the steel of her piercing and coalesced beneath it. Fat and heavy, it dropped silently into the fox's faggot hair. "That is good," Natasha said. "That is very good. You have done this many times."

"Mhm!" Desmond murmured, tail swaying in a giddy little show of pride. He swabbed his tongue over her pucker again and again. Natasha's sweat was considerable and it was Desmond's pleasure to clean her of it. His own penis, laughable in size even without Natasha's massive black meat for contrast, stiffened and twitched under his briefs and blue jeans. He humored the idea of being allowed to fuck this Russian beauty and played with it as a minor but captivating fantasy. His slurps hardened and lengthened, the broadest and smoothest part of his tongue flossing through her ass crack and dragging against her asshole. He was prepping that ass for his cock in his fantasy, using his slobber as lube, and he knew it would work just fine.

Natasha licked her lips slowly. Her eyes were narrow, giving her the impression of a predator surveying its prey. "You will need lube when I fuck you," she said with icy plainness, ruining Desmond's fantasy. "Even if I were inclined to rim you, it would not be enough."

Desmond tugged back his muzzle and felt a minor rush from the fully-oxygenated air outside of Natasha's ass crack. "Mm, yeah, s'no problem. Got plenty."

"I was certain you did," the panther said with a sneer. Desmond started back for her asshole but she pushed him by the crown until he fell on his bottom. "No. You have done well enough. Now I fuck you."

The foxcoon stayed on his ass for a moment and smiled at her. "All ri-i-ight, but ch'gotta be gentle with me. Imma lil' sissy, y'know! And if ya' get too rough, gonna call that police brutality."

The panther leaned forward sharply. Desmond flinched back, tittering nervously like a spooked hyena. "Okay, okay, I was jokin', gawd. Lemme go grab the lube. S'in the bathroom."

Natasha got up and followed Desmond after he walked away. She moved so smoothly despite her size that she frightened him when she appeared in the medicine cabinet's mirror.

"Jesus!" he snapped, twisting around fast. "Ya' make a habit outta sneakin' up on people?"

"Being quiet is a good way to avoid being shot," Natasha said flatly.

"What, didja think I had a gawddamn Glock stashed in here or somethin'?" Desmond asked, showing genuine indignity. He indicated the tube of lube in his paw. "That's all. Seriously."

"I do not leave things to chance," she answered. She took the lube in one paw, Desmond's wrist in the other. When she had the huffing fox back near the futon, she let him free and said, "Undress, Desmond."

Desmond stripped; Natasha slathered her penis with the colorless lubricant until it dribbled off of her. Desmond reached for the bottle but Natasha smirked and shook her head. "Bend over, against the couch. Yes, like that. I will lubricate you."

Natasha covered two fingers in an excessive amount of lube. Before too much of it dribbled down to the carpet, she knelt behind the foxcoon and forced apart his ass cheeks with her clean fingers. Her line of sight to his small, pink anus was clear. She pushed her fingers against its rim and immediately began penetrating him, spreading open his pucker with her thick, slick digits. A low moan passed Desmond's lips. Natasha purred, "You enjoy this, yes?"

"I do, I do," Desmond said quietly. "Mm, spread 'em out a lil' bit... get me good and spread, honey. You're real big."

"Mhm," Natasha agreed while spreading her fingers apart in successively wider flexes. Desmond's flawless anus stretched into oblongs around her fingers and the muscles inside flexed and squeezed stubbornly. A subtle, sleazy grin formed on her lips. "You put things in your ass frequently. I can tell. Your asshole - it is swollen, if only slightly. Your muscles are trained for this."

"And I take a lotta pride in that, ma'am," Desmond cooed. His ringed tail swished, brushed across her face. She swatted it with her free paw. "Mmm, now fuck me, why don'tcha? Been at least a coupla days since I had a fat pecker in my butt."

Natasha silently agreed. She slid her fingers out of Desmond and uncaringly smeared the excess lube off onto his hip. Then she took hold of her cock, braced it, and guided it into the crack of his ass. His cheeks were very round and soft, giving him what she thought was an attractive behind. The broad head of her cock met his pucker, but it was preceded by her metal. She noted how he tensed as the rounded steel kissed up to him. "You have never had this kind of piercing inside of you, correct?"

"Nuh-uh," Desmond admitted. "Do it a'fore I change my mind."

"As you wish." The panther's entry into Desmond was slow, her care necessary in spite of his great anal training and the massive amount of lubricant. Her piercing opened him in a way he found strange, for he winced and made an unreadable sound.

His trepidation continued as she entered deep into him. The metal smoothly pushed and dragged on his tender insides like the blunt tip of a filed claw. "Ah, gawd, that feels weird, honey."

"You will enjoy it," Natasha said. Her tone was dismissive, though she believed the sentiment. "Give it a bit of time." The slow, smooth entry into the foxcoon left her huffing softly, tail lashing from stimulation. Once her hips met his bottom, she stalled and gave him a moment for adjustment. Slightly envious of his smooth hair, she ran her clean paw through it. "Your hair, it is very pretty."

Desmond giggled. "Yours is too! Aw, I envy a natural raven. Me, I can't pull of that dark-hair look."

"Mm, no. No, it would look strange on you. Blonde is clearly your color," Natasha said quietly. She took hold of his hips again - her signal that she was about to begin. Desmond understood it, straightening out and bracing himself on the futon.

The muscular panther set to work in a rhythm which began slow, again so the fox could adjust to her piercing, but this time as it exited him. He made encouraging noises, cooing as the warm steel dragged over his tender insides. He said as Natasha made ready to push back in, "Think I'm okay with your metal now. Go ahead an' fuck me."

Natasha mashed her hips into Desmond, bottoming out in one savage push. The foxcoon mewled for her, his spine arching in a feline fashion. "As you wish," said Natasha again, her tone still frigid. She leaned on Desmond and pulled herself up, reoriented so she squatted on her powerful legs rather than knelt. The leverage she gave herself was invaluable for fucking the boy, and she tore into him with thrusts which were wild and rough. Desmond had expected efficient, smooth Russian lovemaking but Natasha's speed and ferocity left him reeling. Her plump, black phallus reamed him and her piercing titillated him, adding immense pleasure to what was already a delightful assfuck for a hungry fox.

Natasha's apple-sized balls swung against Desmond's soft thighs, spanking him with their hefty smacks. Two thick coats of fur between them deadened any sound they would have made, but Desmond was acutely aware of their weight and speed. He whined to her, "Aw, gawd! Ya' fuck like a gawddamn monster, baby! Fuck the shit outta me!"

"I am!" Natasha snapped, passion saturating her stiff words. "You-," she grunted, huffed, buried herself in him, "you are not going to be able to walk when I am through."

"Fu-u-uck, I hope not," Desmond said, slumping against the futon. Natasha's fat, Russian cock drove into his ass like a post, gouging him again and again. His anal walls stayed snug around her, so tight that they seemed like a second skin to the growling panther. Her pleasure was immense and so was Desmond's. He reached down with a lazy paw and masturbated, using his left just for the hell of it. "Yer gonna make me bust a nut, sugar."

"Good! You should appreciate every moment of this!" the panther all but snarled, fully invested in the all-out ruination of the boy's behind. Her claws extended involuntarily and drove into Desmond's hips, drawing droplets of blood and a masochistic squeal from the foxcoon. Natasha did not realize she had punctured him. Her rational mind had been buried under lust. "I am going to fill you," she hissed.

Desmond switched quickly to his right paw. He tugged his unimpressive cock rapidly. Tears welled in his eyes from the clawing, but the sensations felt in his bottom were purely ones of pleasure. "Yes, yes. Do it, fuckin' blow a big ol' load in me!"

Natasha threw herself over Desmond's small, soft body. Her breasts, exposed but restrained by her uniform, bumped the back of his head like warm pillows. She pinned him fully under her weight and gripped the futon's cushions for support as she made ready to gush into the fox. Her hips hit his behind over and over, every collision making his chubby cheeks wobble.

The fox crooned beneath Natasha. As far as being busted by the law went, he thought this was just about the perfect outcome. His paw glided on his small, leaking cock in vigorous tugs and his anal muscles responded to his masturbation with tenses and squeezes. It was a wonderful cycle, every twitch of his muscles giving pleasure to Natasha who in turn continued fucking his brains out. Desmond's face was fully obscured as he came, but on it was a look of dreamy delight. His cum shot into his fingers, forming stringy webs in the fur and the spaces between his digits. More importantly, his ass clenched upon Natasha.

"Too tight," Natasha hissed, grimacing against the sudden snugness of the foxcoon. It mattered little that he was so tight; she was so close that her orgasm was going to happen regardless and was hurried along by a few seconds at the most. Natasha hunkered down atop the foxcoon, crushing him into his futon. She grit her teeth, tried to hold her wild side in, but failed and let loose a savage yowl as orgasm struck her. Her pierced cock throbbed in Desmond, twitching so sharply that it rose two inches inside of the boy. Then came the eruption, thick white slop blasting into him in spurts timed to the subsequent twitches of her black meat. It leaked out, running down her balls which were flush to his body. This was not the first time she had overfilled a squirming boy.

Natasha pushed off of the futon with paws braced on its cushions. She was still huffing softly when she said with most of her usual composure, "That was enjoyable. Very well. I will not arrest you."

"Thanks, yeah," Desmond said, sounding dazed. "Ooh, fuck. Thassa bi-i-g dick you got. Christ. Actually makin' me a lil' sore."

"Then let it be your lesson," said the panther noncommittally. She pulled back from Desmond slowly. Her meat was still mostly erect and her exit tweaked his anus again. His grunt made her smirk. "I am going to clean myself in your restroom."

Natasha collected her pants and did as she promised. When she came back fully dressed and no worse for wear, she found Desmond draped sideways on his futon, playing with his phone. He was still naked and sticky.

"Desmond Lankett," she said firmly, earning his attention. He propped his head up with a bent arm and looked at her tiredly. "Do not let me catch you selling drugs again."

He grinned. "Or what? Ya' gonna come fuck me again?"

She grinned back. She leaned down, pinched his nose and made him whine. "No. I will not fuck you again. And that will be your punishment." More fondly, she patted his head - and stroked his pretty hair again. "Good night to you, Desmond," she said on her way out of his dorm.

Desmond went back to his phone. He was looking around the area for hookups with Prince Alberts.