FSE

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It was a cool and slightly breezy Friday in Langris City, and whilst the civilians had mostly forgotten about the viral attack long enough to go about their lives as normal, the superhumans who patrolled the streets and kept the peace were still very much on the case.

The latest goal for a select few superheroes was the capture and interrogation of an unknown agent that belonged to those who'd caused the viral attack in the first place, and there was no better hero suited for the task than Top Dog himself, whose astounding telepathic abilities made him a valuable asset in pinpointing any individual. Of course, Top Dog always needed to be the one who ran these operations, yet despite that, he was still very much out in the field.

Relaying instructions to several operatives, Top Dog was begrudgingly forced to strip out of his skin tight suit that fit so neatly around his athletic body and manly curves, and swapped them for clothes that would better allow him to slip into crowds unnoticed. To that end, he opted for a loose hoodie and form-fitting jeans.

Top Dog had a lead he planned to chase up: his sources had pointed him in the direction of a private military contracting firm known as Mowhawk Security and Intelligence. Whilst Top Dog didn't know a whole lot about them, he did some snooping and poked his head in the right places. It didn't take him long to find out that a particularly skilled veteran in the field was being dispatched to protect a man who apparently had a lot of money to spend. When Top Dog eventually caught whiff of that the client was a scientist, he had a hunch that he was getting close to something. Rather than leave someone else to do it, he thought it better to find this man himself and bring him in for questioning, before anyone else could get to him.

His journey took him towards the seedier areas of town in the late afternoon, the sun above slowly setting. Top Dog dipped into an alleyway and took a shortcut through a series of residential buildings, until he found himself on the corner of Albert and Wayne Street. Across from him sat a relatively popular bar and strip joint, the Kinky Hog. It had taken the rottweiler little effort to find out where the scientist was: local law enforcement could be co-operative in tracking a licence plate when they wanted to be. He didn't need to go inside the building: he had another plan.

Making his way across the street, Top Dog moved past the bar and into the alleyway down the side of it, away from the prying eyes of the bouncers, tugging his hood up as he went. There, he saw a man leaning up against the building, cigarette poking from his muzzle. Top Dog quickly ducked down behind the nearby dumpster and opened his mind, listening.

'...Fuckin' security detail. Who the hell does this scientist think he is? This ain't laying low, he just wants someone to watch his back whilst he gets his dick wet. Ah well, I only have to protect him, not spank his ass for him...' The thoughts that surfaced in Top Dog's mind weren't his own-- rather, they were the innermost thoughts of the man leaning up against the alleyway. The rottweiler quickly realised his target was inside, and furthermore, the man in front of him was the 'seasoned veteran' who was hired to protect him. This was the perfect opportunity.

Slipping out from the side of the dumpster, Top Dog reached into his back pocket to pull out a small, retractable baton, which would serve well as his concealed weapon. He made his way closer as the man turned his attention to the approaching figure. Top Dog knew he didn't have a second to waste: he projected his thoughts in a loud, conflicting bark, assaulting the man's mind. Not prepared for a mental attack, the canine stumbled backwards and clutched his head, giving the rottweiler time to close the gap.

With a few swift and direct hits, the mercenary was on the floor. Top Dog didn't want to resort to anything horrid, but he soon realised the man beneath him was built better, and was likely stronger than him. Whilst the man was dazed, Top Dog retrieved s small pistol from his waistband and held it firmly. He didn't plan to actually use it, but a deterrent was better than nothing.

"Stay down." Top Dog spoke quietly, his voice low and dripping with authority. He probed the man's thoughts as the mercenary came to his senses, begrudgingly holding his hands up. The rottweiler didn't find much of use.

"Where's your client?" He demanded, tugging back his hood so he could see better. The mercenary was a bear, of a rich black and brown fur colouration. It was hard to make out any significant features in the dark light and the dim illumination of the light above them, but Top Dog was fairly certain he didn't have anything in his hands, at least. Despite the rottweiler's question, the bear kept his mouth shut, eyes searching.

"Answer my damn question." Top Dog snarled, but he knew he wasn't all that intimidating. He'd hoped that the gun would make him talk, but the ursine seemed more stubborn than ever.

"Wait..." The mercenary suddenly spoke, narrowing his eyes and staring up at the canine's face. "...Hank?"

The use of his real name startled Top Dog, if only for a moment, and he searched with his mind to find the answer. He probed the bear's thoughts and immediately realised what the man was on about. His eyes widened, but he didn't let any other emotion come to the forefront.

"...Kyle Grisham. This is quite the surprise...moved onto private military after your scholarship, did you?" Top Dog remarked and the bear grunted, his face somehow turning more sour.

"Like you've got any room to judge me, you depraved piece of shit," The bear spat. "What, you didn't have enough fun making my life hell in high school, now you're coming back to finish the job? Humiliating me wasn't enough?"

"Made your life hell?" The rottweiler scoffed, taking the bait. "You bullied me all the way through my high school years until I finally put a stop to you."

"Is your fuckin' head on straight? Sure, I messed around with you a little, but I backed off when you become student council president...I wasn't an idiot," The bear retorted. "Then you cornered me in the locker room and..."

"Delivered sweet, enacting justice, so you'd never bully anyone again?" The rottweiler finished the sentence for him, but the bear's haunted expression seemed to tell a different story. The canine didn't give him any room to continue the lecture, keeping the gun trained on him.

"The next thing I want to hear from your mouth is where your client is," Top Dog demanded. "He's needed for questioning about the viral attacks."

"Heh...think yourself some hero now, do you?" The bear grunted in amusement. "That's rich."

Top Dog stepped forwards, planting a paw on the bear's chest and leaning down to face him a bit more thoroughly, the gun trained on him to stop him from getting up and making a nuisance of himself. Yet, somehow, that gave the bear exactly what he needed. He dipped his head to the right and swept himself around with alarming dexterity, sending the canine off balance.

Hank teetered on one foot for a moment, before the bear was suddenly scrambling to his feet, and Kyle's fist enclosed around the front of the rottweiler's hoodie, near his collar. The bear pushed him roughly and Hank was shoved into the wall, forced up against the cool brick as the Bear snapped his grip upwards, twisting his hand and shoving the length of his arm up against Hank's neck. The rottweiler struggled for a moment, but he didn't use his powers just yet. He was biding his time.

"Not so tough now, huh?" The bear was cocky, but he had a right to be; Top Dog had vastly underestimated his strength. It was like there was a weight against his body and no amount of force would heave the bear off. Try as he might, he knew he'd be stuck without his telepathic abilities, and the extent of his powers were an unknown that Kyle likely wasn't prepared for.

"Oh how the tables have turned. What was it you did, back then? Blackmail me, force me to do your bidding, your dark desires?" Kyle grunted, and Top Dog froze when he felt a sudden hand cupping his crotch, causing him to freeze. "Like this?"

The rottweiler didn't utter a sound, partly because of the arm constricting his airflow just a little bit, and also because he couldn't tell what the bear was planning. He quietly and inconspicuously probed the bear's mind with his own and was flooded with a sea of lewd thoughts. His gaze snapped from Kyle's amused, smug face to the blush on his cheeks, hidden under his black and frown fur. He put two and two together quite quickly, but it was evident from the bear's delusional, almost lustful mind that the situation he was in was part of the thrill: forcing someone to do something against their will. To buy time, Hank thought it best to amuse him.

Top Dog did his best to offer a convincing snarl, and the bear took the bait. With a dark chuckle, the bear began to toy with Top Dog's crotch, and the canine felt those thick fingers tug and pull at the button of his jeans, inevitably loosening them and freeing the canine's crotch, at least mostly. The jeans slipped loosely around Hank's hips as Kyle's fingers tugged down the front of his underwear. Hank was greeted to the cool night air against his sheath and he soon felt the bear's fingers pushing against it, feeling the plumpness of his loins.

"Bet you're really into this, huh?" The bear huffed and grunted, his breathing low and heavy. "You get off on rape, right? Isn't this what you like?"

"Bastard..." Hank spat out, but he was secretly rather intrigued. It was clear that Kyle was getting off on this far more than he was, and...well, Kyle had certainly aged well, all things considered. Were they on better terms, Hank might have suggested something. The fingers toying around his sheath easily coaxed the tip of Top Dog's tapering canine cock from its housing as Kyle dipped his fingers down to cup his balls, rolling them around in his digits. Hank put on a good show of attempting to resist, pushing his hands at Kyle's violating forearm, the difference in their strength staggering.

With a slurred chuckle and a half-groan, Kyle's hand dipped up and began to stroke what little of Hank's member had slid from its sheath, his warm fingers pumping and rapidly stroking the member until it became half-mast, and then inevitably full-mast. The quiet darkness of the alleyway was quickly filled with their quiet grunting and panting as Kyle's rapid stroking quickly bore fruit, the turgid canine cock throbbing between his fingers, pre-cum oozing from the tip. Hank was rather enjoying himself-- Kyle was clearly gay, and whilst his movements were sloppy, he was pleasuring the canine rather well.

After a little while, Kyle moved his large hand away, and Hank wondered what he planned to do. Shortly thereafter, he felt a warmth lining up against his own. Though he couldn't see what it was, Kyle's change in grip quickly made him realise that the bear was lined up his cock with Hank's own. The quiet groans that came from Top Dog's acting mouth quickly turned into two, as Kyle's own sighs and moans of pleasure soon joined his.

It clearly wasn't taking Kyle long to finish up, his heavy panting turning more and more intense as time went on, until the fervent groping and stroking of his hand turned slick with pre-cum and rapid with his irregular, lustful movements, Hank forced to endure the pleasure, much to his own secret delight. He still put on a good show of resisting, but the pre-cum leaking from the end of his cock told a different story, if the mercenary had been paying attention.

Soon enough, Kyle began to mutter under his breath, his chest heaving in a clear indication that he was on the edge of his climax. The bear shuddered shortly thereafter, and Hank felt the warmth of seed against his cock, smearing down between their lengths as the bear continued to rapidly stroke, his grip easing up a little as his arm shifted slightly on Hank's neck, loosening just a bit. Hank grunted and tensed, and realised he was close too. A few rapid jerks later and he was orgasming, his own cum joining the bear's own, coating their lengths in the sticky, gooey seed, the occasional string shooting up to catch their arms or stomachs.

Kyle sighed quietly, his body relaxing as his breathing normalised, a low, dark chuckle spreading across his chest and out of his mouth. He snapped his gaze up and met Hank's own with a defiant glint, eyes twinkling with a mixture of desire the malicious amusement.

"Doesn't feel so good, huh? To be humiliated and treated like shit?" The bear snorted, his hand moving from their cocks to smear unceremoniously on Top Dog's hoodie, deliberately staining it. "Now, I can't let you leave...got a job to do, and all that."

Hank knew that it was time to end the charade. Before he could do anything, however, the back door to the strip club burst open and out staggered an individual, pushed from behind. Clad in a simple shirt and pants with a rich green plumage on his face and brown-feathered wings, the middle-aged pheasant dusted himself off as the door slammed shut behind him. He cleared his throat and turned to face Kyle, who blinked at him in surprise. The pheasant did much of the same.

"What in the w--" Before he could finish, he staggered back in agony, clutching his head. Kyle did much of the same as he let go of Hank, who steadied himself against the wall and tugged up his pants. As much as he had enjoyed their little session, it was time to be professional.

Readying his baton, he struck Kyle hard in the back of the head, and the bear was knocked unconscious remarkably easily. The baton was deliberately flexible along its base, and heavy and sturdy to boot. With the right force and flick of the wrist, it was the perfect implement for a stealthy mission. With that, he turned towards the Pheasant, who backed away from him, stammering through his beak. Top Dog didn't give him time to argue. He struck him in the neck and the bird passed out.

Top Dog let out a long sigh, looking down at his ruined hoodie, before digging into his pocket for his phone. He dialled a number and waited.

"Yes, Mr. Top Dog, sir?" A voice answered after just a few moments, quiet and dainty.

"Ready Outliner to meet me outside. Have someone escort Restorative Rodent down to the interrogation room for me." He spoke into the phone, and when he recieved confirmation, he snapped it shut.

Onto Phase 2: question the agent.

---

x x x

---

"You could have asked me to come with you, if you were going to be in trouble."

"Your tattoos make you an easy target to spot, Outliner."

Top Dog passed over the unconscious pheasant into the large pig's firm grip, and the pigman had no difficulty in slinging the pheasant over his shoulder, his strength far outweighing Top Dog's own. They had spoken briefly about the state of Top Dog's cum-stained hoodie, but it didn't matter right now. They had something else to attend to.

Top Dog had returned to his private laboratory tucked away in the dark corners of a shell company's building with the pheasant in captivity. He had begun to use it more as a base of operations for when his office in the middle of the city had proven too notable and easy for enemies to track him. The lab was something that very few knew about-- he only handed out that information to those he trusted.

Stepping into its sleek white walls, Top Dog gestured Outliner, the pig who he had corralled in the initial viral incident, to head down towards the interrogation room, where Joey, known professionally as Restorative Rodent, was waiting for him. He had called the pair of them in to assist him in questioning shortly before starting his field mission: both of them were relatively valuable assets-- he was still teaching Joey to be a hero, and Outliner's raw muscle helped a great deal.

He stepped off into a side room, where his usual superhero outfit was waiting, and he quickly got changed before meeting his allies deeper in the building, in the interrogation room. Set up much like a police precinct, the room itself could be seen through a one-way mirror. Outliner had done a good job of tying the pheasant down, giving them every opportunity to question him without him escaping. With a sharp gesture, Top Dog invited the young rodent and Outliner into the other room.

"So it went okay, then?" Joey asked, adjusting his bright yellow jumpsuit a little, shivering a bit in the cold. Top Dog offered him a slow nod as he looked through the one-way mirror into the other room.

"I have a sneaking suspicion that this one will prove difficult to crack, which is why the two of you are here. I'll need you to go inside and try to question him whilst I probe his mind from here. You should be able to wake him up with a splash of water...or Joey being around will help." The rottweiler remarked, and Outliner grunted.

"Are you sure he should be in there with me? I mean, I..." He trailed off and Top Dog got the gist. Outliner would be rather rough, but he was compassionate. Having a son had given the adult pig a peculiar stance on what kids should and shouldn't see, especially superhero ones. The rottweiler sighed through his nose and opened his mouth to speak, but Joey spoke before him.

"I'll be fine! I've seen Top Dog question people before...and I've seen lots of accidents." The rat boy bowed his head for a moment and Outliner squirmed awkwardly on the spot, unsure how to comfort him. With a grunt, he patted the boy's back and lead him out of the room, shooting Top Dog a nervous glance, before he left as well.

The adult canine watched them from the other side of the glass as they entered the room, the rat moving around the table the separated the pheasant from two sets of chairs. Outliner moved into a seat and sighed tiredly as Joey stepped closer to the avian, tapping him on the cheek. The pheasant stirred for a moment, his eyes blearily opening, before realising where he was. He snapped himself upright, eyes wide as he tried to struggle.

"Don't bother," Top Dog heard Outliner say. "Ain't no way you're gettin' outta here."

With the interrogation started, Top Dog relinquished the usual hold he had on his mind and let it scurry forth like a wolf waiting for its prey. He delved into the avian's mind and felt a sudden, sharp stab of pain. He winced and sucked in a breath, probing the area again and meeting the same result. It was like there was a forcefield inside the pheasant's mind, some way that he was able to block Top Dog's mind techniques.

"You two," He projected his thoughts, instead, to his colleagues. "He has some sort of mental barrier...I'm going to need you to distract him."

Outliner rose to his feet and pushed the table aside in a stunning display of strength, much to Joey's surprise. Outliner raised his fist and growled quietly, just about ready to punch the avian in the face.

"Stop," Top Dog commanded, and Outliner froze. "...Restorative Rodent's in charge."

"You've gotta be kiddin' me..." Outliner muttered to himself, whilst Joey's eyes widened in surprise. This was one of the few times that Top Dog let him have the reigns on a mission. Joey had been learning a great deal about how to be a hero: not much in the way of combat, of course, but plenty in the way of search and rescue, infiltration, spying and more. He had a great deal of books as proof of his commitment. Interrogation, however, was something altogether new.

Cracking his knuckles, Joey strode across the room, wondering where to begin as Outliner backed off, leaning up against the wall. Joey had never done this sort of thing before, but he had a fair idea where to start.

"I heard you got picked up a strip club," The pre-teen rat began. "You see anything cute?"

The mere question of it made the avian's mental field falter, just enough for him Top Dog to sneak in and catch one snippet of information: his name, moaned in pleasure from the mouth of a curvy looking woman...or was just a feminine man? Sadly, Top Dog knew the scientist's name already. He projected that little tid-bit to Joey, who aimed to use it.

"Professor Pleasant, isn't it?" Joey began, raising a hand to trace the outline of red feathers around the pheasant's head. The avian shuddered and Top Dog felt another faltering in his shield, allowing to the capture another few pieces of information. He couldn't find much useful, though the imagery he was assaulted with gave him at least one clear indication, the realisation making him sigh in exasperation.

"Joey," Top Dog centred a thought on the rat boy alone. "He's of a particular... persuasion. Give him appropriate treatment, would you?"

Joey's eyes lit up at the thought and a little smirk spread across his muzzle. Top Dog had been doing a lot more than just training Joey on the core hero fundamentals: he had taught him all manner of sexual acts, too. Joey still didn't quite understand them as much as he might like-- rather, it didn't mean much to him on a physical level other than the pleasure-- but he had been eager to learn for the sake of keeping Top Dog happy with him, and the rottweiler definitely seemed to enjoy their time together when it took that route. If the pheasant had similar cravings, then Joey was sure he could sate them. If he made the professor happy, then he might be more inclined to talk, right?

Joey's reasoning was sound, though incorrect; if anything, Top Dog was certain that Joey's lewd acts would make it harder for the scientist to concentrate. The rottweiler watched as Joey trailed his hand down, dipping it across the avian's chest and stomach and towards his crotch. The pheasant shuddered visibly and he tensed when Joey's finger met with the bulge between his legs in those simple, cheap pants. The twinkle in the rat boy's eyes behind his domino mask made the professor gulp nervously, a blush rising to his cheeks. Outliner stared hard through the one-way mirror at wherever Top Dog might be, expecting him to stop what Joey was doing. When he didn't, the pig dropped his head, frustrated.

Outliner wanted to stop him, but Top Dog had him by the balls. Ever since the incident, Top Dog had dangled the bait of the video and his own son over his head, threatening to share the video of Outliner fucking Joey in his mindless state to his family. Outliner didn't want anyone to see that, so he kept his mouth shut and played along as best as he could. Part of him knew that Top Dog was doing this for the greater good, but he hated how cruel he was about it. He was forced to watch as Joey reached his fingers up to pop the button of the avian's pants, tugging the zipper down.

"You like this, right?" Joey whispered quietly, sinking his hand against the avian's brown plumage, just above his crotch, his small, delicate fingers touching with the professor's bare skin. The further that Joey's hand dipped, the more that Top Dog's mind flooded with lewd thoughts and imagery direct from the professor's head. It was difficult to focus on the information he needed, but Joey was at least 'holding the door open', as it were.

The rat boy's fingers inevitably met with the bulge of the avian's pants, and he curled his fingers in underneath the length, pulling it from the confines of the pants. The humanoid member, more of a shower than a grower, was already beginning to twitch and pulse in Joey's small hand, and Outliner restrained the urge to stop Joey's sexual act, keeping his arms neatly folded.

"Maybe you'll let me know a thing or two if I help you out a bit? You'd like to feel good, wouldn't you?" Joey offered, his small digits gently squeezing and tugging the cock up and down a little bit as the pheasant trembled and shuddered. A quiet sigh escaped the professors lips, yet he still refused to utter a word, keeping his beak firmly shut. It would be up to Top Dog to get the information they needed, which was the plan regardless.

Joey smirked and watched the pheasant's expression as he reached his hand up, retracting the foreskin atop the avian's cock and exposing the warm, fleshy glans. He traced a finger across the tip before reaching back down to the length of the cock, giving it a few quick and dirty strokes, just how Top Dog himself liked it. The avian's member, barely 6 inches or so, twitched wildly in the cub's grip, betraying the desire he had for the rat boy's lithe figure.

Top Dog probed the avian's mind, sinking deeper into his subconscious as Joey made sure that the avian's attention was on his innocent face and the feeling of those small fingers against his cock. With unfettered access to the scientist's mind, Top Dog sank into the pits of his thoughts to search for the information he needed.

It was difficult to truly pinpoint what he needed to know, but he soon surfaces information about the organisation: they were a group of scientists, at the very least, and Top Dog wondered if they had someone financing them. He learnt of Professor Pleasant's inner-workings, of the motivation behind his malice-- he truly believed that brains were superior in the word and intelligence ruled supreme. Top Dog resonated with him in that regard, even if he couldn't condone his actions.

After a while, his probing finally bore fruit when he unveiled a conversation that the professor had with an unknown figure, one that Hank couldn't see, for the avian's eyes were looking down at his feathered hands.

"Tell me of them," The unknown figure demanded in a dark, authoritative tone. "I need their names, their details."

"Superheroes..." The pheasant spoke, his voice shaky. "Top Dog, Restorative Rodent, and Eracervine."

Top Dog halted at the words. Eracervine. A man with the power to manipulate matter itself, a power so great that many considered him a threat, even if he were a hero. He was locked in a solitary, specially built facility far to the east, on a remote island known as Pandemonium. Top Dog always admired him for his ways to keep the peace and, if he were around to help, the scientists would have no way of releasing their viral attack around the world. With a snap of his fingers, he could delete their matter from existence. Compared to himself, Eracervine was a god. It was no wonder they needed him out of the picture.

"Details. Now." The voice demanded.

"U-Uh...Eracervine can delete and manipulate matter. He's locked in a secret facility... my colleague has the innermost details. Top Dog and Restorative Rodent...they were the top heroes in the field during out first experiment. T-Top Dog is a master of telepathy and he co-ordinates a lot of the heroes, and he can probe minds...the boy, Restorative Rodent...just a rookie, but with immeasurable healing powers, like an aura around him. Anyone can be healed."

"I see. Foolish heroes will always get in the way..." The figure muttered, out of view. "I will send out a memo. We must find these three and eliminate them if our plans are to bear fruit. We must eliminate all others who follow them as well; we can't have them finishing what they started..."

"Y-Yes, sir."

"See Mr. Ramirez. He has something for you."

The imagery faded and the memory sank back into the pheasant's consciousness as Top Dog felt a stab of resistance. Joey's gently tugging was coaxing the avian a little, but his mind was beginning to put up a solid defence. As a cautionary tactic, Top Dog forced his way through the mind to dig up some of the man's more niche fetishes. One seemed to ring out more than any other.

"Joey," Hank projected, wincing again. "He's starting to pay attention. Distract him, really turn him on. He seems to like...urine."

Joey froze on the spot as his face fell, and he flicked his gaze towards Outliner, wondering what he should do. He'd never done this sort of thing before. He quickly smoothed over his features as he tugged back the avian's foreskin again, revealing the head once more as he brought down his other hand to touch along the length. The rat's own arousal was pretty evident in the bulge of his jumpsuit, and he didn't look too ashamed about it-- touching someone else's cock always made him feel that way.

"You like that? Don't be shy, tell me what you want." Joey spoke quietly, almost daintily, and Outliner shuddered at the situation in front of him. Joey was startlingly good at being flirtacious, and that wasn't a good thing.

"U-Um..." The avian spoke, his voice high-pitched, matching his relatively short, lean figure. Joey batted his eyelashes, but the pheasant still looked nervous.

"Do you wanna pee on me?" Joey asked, and the avian's eyes widened in response, his beak open in a display of shock. He exhaled and his breath was shaky, his cock wildly twitching in Joey's grip. It was clear he wanted it, at least on some level.

"Maybe you want me to do it to you? Don't be shy." Joey reached a free hand up and tucked it around his back, reaching up to the zipper. He pulled it down his back with a surprising amount of dexterity and let the jumpsuit fall around his front. He slid his arms from the sleeves to reveal his lithe and boyish naked upper half, along with his surprisingly naked lower half, his little cock erect and twitching. The pheasant looked him up and down, hungrily taking him in.

Joey wasn't sure what he wanted, so he stepped closer to him. The pheasant instinctively parted his legs to allow the rat boy to closer the gap, and Joey pushed himself up against the professor's body, letting his small cock meet with the pheasant's own. He gently rolled his hips and grinded his member up against the pheasant's length, and the avian practically trembled beneath him.

"Together, then." Joey suggested with a cheeky smile, his suit dangling around his knees, dragging across the floor between his legs. He lowered a hand and curled his small digits around the girth of both their cocks, holding them firmly together. He offered the pheasant a pleasant enough smile as they stood there, both of them patiently waiting.

It was Joey who went first, a trickle of urine seeping from the end of his member, followed by a steady stream that arced up and landed along the avian's stomach, straining his shirt with the rat boy's clear piss. The man groaned and squirmed in his seat as his own stream of urine soon followed, slightly more yellow in colouration as it met with Joey's stream in mid-air, the two of them clashing and splashing downwards, splattering against both of them bodies and running down their cocks, wetting Joey's hand and arm. The trickling urine soon dripped onto the floor and stained from of Joey's costume. The rat had never really done anything like this before-- he wasn't sure he was all that into it.

Top Dog resisted the urge to grope himself at the sight, watching the way the pheasant shuddered and groaned. The sudden act of delving into his own desires seemed to loosen the mental barrier he had worked tirelessly to rebuild, and it gave Top Dog ample time to slip his mind inwards and delve deeper. He weaved his way through the tapestry of memories, pulling them to the forefront to probe and find out what secrets they held. Finally, he focused on one that seemed important.

Through the eyes of the professor, Top Dog watched as the pheasant spoke with another scientist, who injected him with a purple, viscous liquid.

"You sure this'll work?" The professor spoke, and the scientist in front of him nodded solemnly.

"It might have an effect on your psyche...but it should stop Top Dog from invading your mind, so long as you can pay attention. Always try to keep your guard up." The scientist warned, and the memory swayed up and down as the professor nodded.

"It comes with a little self-destructing sequence. Just a precaution," The scientist continued. "If you don't check in every hour, we'll detonate it. The boss doesn't want anything getting out. It should take that superhero more than an hour to break through into your mind."

"R-Right...glory to the boss." The pheasant muttered meekly. The realisation swept over Top Dog and in a surge of adrenaline, he yanked his mind back, snapping it towards his own body like an elastic band. He whirled around on the spot to look up at the clock on the wall. It was almost to the hour. In fact, it was just upon them. 30 seconds, and counting.

"Fuck!" Top Dog roared, his scream loud enough to startle Joey and Outliner, who heard him from the other room. The two of them turned towards the window and the rottweiler stared, wide-eyed at the two of them, but they were unable to see him. For a moment, his brain shut down as the panic rushed over him, before he calmed himself and projected his thoughts out.

"He's a bomb! Take cover!" He screamed his voice into their mind and he visibly saw the colour drain from their face. The pheasant began to look decidedly sick, his erect member still twitching between his legs. His feathers began to rustle as his body began to twitch.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, and Top Dog watched in horror as Outliner charged forwards, vaulting over the avian and leaping towards Joey. Yet, it was too late: the pheasant bubbled and frothed, as if he were liquid himself, before he suddenly exploded in a torrent of flame.

The glass shattered first, the explosion sending the shards of glass flying outwards. Top Dog felt the sting of pain as his body became littered with sharp jagged edges of glass, pelting his front as he was knocked back into the wall and through it, the rubble descending upon them.

Top Dog couldn't see anymore. The rest was just darkness.

---

x x x

---

The explosion shattered the interrogation room and large chunks of the hallway, enveloping around the laboratory enough to destroy at least 80% of the ground floor. The only things left intact were the equipment underground, looked after by Frey, and the lobby, where the receptionist hid under the desk.

It felt like an eternity before Top Dog could pull himself out of the blackness of his own mind and regain control of his body. The first thing he felt was the weight of skin and flesh atop him, pinning him down against the floor. He groaned and pushed, but the flesh didn't move. He patted his hand along the mass and felt the tufts of chest hair, quickly realising that Outliner was lying on top of him. That didn't matter to him: he was more concerned about Joey, and about the experiments going on below.

"Wake up, Outliner. Come on, get up." Top Dog patted the pig roughly on the arm and the mass suddenly shifted, if only slightly. He heard an audible groan as Outliner shifted, and the tattoos on his body suddenly moved, coalescing along his back. With a sudden display of strength, he heaved himself up and Top Dog saw the mountain of rubble atop them. The explosion must have been quite large.

With the debris off of them both, Top Dog sat forwards and felt the ache in his muscles, the stabs of pain in his stomach. To his surprise, however, there was no glass to be found: he had holes dotted around his suit, and they were openly bleeding, but all of them were fresh, clean wounds. The rottweiler wrinkled his nose for a moment before coming to the realisation that Joey's powers must have helped to ease the glass out as his wounds healed.

He clambered to his feet, tiptoeing around the broken shards of metal and rubble on the floor as he peered and searched for signs of life. The avian agent, of course, was long since gone, much to the rottweiler's dismay. At least he'd gotten a snippet of meaningful information. Joey, however, was proving difficult to find.

"Over here." Outliner grunted from behind him, and Hank turned to see the brutish pig heaving a large block of brick from atop several others. From the bottom stuck out a fairly noticeable foot. Top Dog quickly made his way over and tugged Restorative Rodent through the rubble, before it might fall on top of him.

The first thing he noticed was that Joey was deliberately covering his face. The second thing he noticed was the smell of singed fur. With a grimace, the rottweiler reached out his hand and touched the boy's chest. What remained of his costume was in tatters, clung around his legs and split down the middle, leaving him relatively naked. His body, however, seemed pretty much immaculate as always. He heard the boy's rasping breaths that seemed to grow clearer by the second.

"Talk to me, Joey. Come on." Hank muttered, and the rodent moved his arms slightly, enough for Hank to peek. The rottweiler sucked in a breath and didn't utter a word. He didn't need to elaborate.

He sat with the boy for a few minutes, for more of less both their benefits. Being close to Joey helped to heal his own wounds, though it seemed Outliner was suffering more than him. He was limping around as he tried to make a clear path for them to get out. As the two heroes lingered, Joey's breathing grew easier, until he eventually sat up and lowered his arms.

If there was something wrong with his face before, it looked fine now: his features were nearly identical to before, bar from a slight change in coloration around his forehead. The rodent groaned quietly as he rolled his shoulders and Top Dog lowered his gaze.

"I'm sorry," For once, the canine was humble. "I should have realised it might have been a trap. You were in harms way before of my inability to think ahead."

"It's okay. Sorry about your hideout, though..." Joey mumbled, looking around him. "Did, um, did you at least find something out? About the bad guys?"

"Something very important, yes," Top Dog solemnly nodded. "I'll contact your parents. I think it might be a good idea to stick with me for the time being."

"Why? Do they wanna hurt me? Because of what I can do?" Joey was a lot smarter than he looked sometimes, and Top Dog sighed, patting the rodent's shoulder. He felt a warm spring of compassion in his stomach, weighted by the immeasurable strain of guilt and frustration.

"Regrettably, yes," He muttered. "And me, as well. I will do what I can to protect us. For now, however...we should potentially look at a new change of clothes for you. I also need to check my lab."

The rottweiler got to his feet, noticing that a great chunk of his costume was missing, primarily along his right shoulder and across the right hand side of his chest. Joey's outfit was in far worse shape, and the rodent looks rather sullied about it. Hank felt bad for him: he imagined that the costume was Joey's only one.

Outliner's work to pave them a path had proven useful as Top Dog lead the boy out of the rubble and towards the less destroyed part of the building, just in time for fire brigades to arrive. It seemed that the explosion of the scientist's body had surprisingly not caused much in the way of fire, so there was very little to put out. One of the fire-fighters graciously offered Hank a towel, which he wrapped around Joey's shoulders to keep him warm and decent. He sent Outliner home to recover a little: Joey's mere existence had helped his leg a bit, and Top Dog assured him they'd meet again tomorrow to fully recover.

Diana, the receptionist, was still cowering behind the table when Hank eventually found her, and he granted her the pleasure of going home. She weirdly insisting on staying on as his receptionist, and he assured her that they'd discuss it at length soon enough. The part of the building not destroyed thankfully had access to the laboratories below, so Top Dog lead the boy down into the depths below.

Though there had been laboratories above ground, the ones below the building were the most important. It was there that Top Dog kept all of his most important projects. Joey didn't need to be told to keep his lips sealed when it came to such a secret place. They moved deeper into the depths of the underground facility until they were met with glowing green luminescence and the sterile lighting above them. Their journey lead them through a pretty simple hallway, its walls and floors marred with grey carpet and tiling, before Top Dog lead Joey through into a vast, expansive research laboratory.

There, they found none other than Frey Ivankov, hunched over a wide table, eye glued to a microscope. Joey didn't particularly know the raccoon, but Top Dog was very familiar with him; he was the lead, and only, researcher searching for an alternative to the rottweiler's ever-expanding mind, which was slowly having a debilitating affect on his mental and physical health.

Top Dog had met Frey through a rather peculiar incident at Yewtree Science Centre, where an unknown assailant had set fire to the place and many people inside were trapped. Top Dog had co-ordinated several rescue teams in the building and it took little effort for him to locate the culprit as none other than Mr. Ivankov himself. Rather than turn him over to the authorities, Top Dog put the raccoon into his employ instead. In truth, he had been following Ivankov's research for several months and planned to snatch him away at some point anyway.

"Mr. Ivankov," Top Dog spoke rather loudly, making the raccoon briefly jump, raising his head. "Good to see you're alive and well. I imagine the explosion upstairs startled you."

"Explosion?" The raccoon bore a bewildered expression, before erratically waving his hands before looking back down into the microscope. "Yes, yes, everything's still intact so it's fine."

Top Dog was naturally pretty concerned that the scientist cared little for his own wellbeing in that regard, but he put that to the back of his mind for now as he rounded the table and drew closer to the raccoon, Joey following along behind him. The rottweiler cleared his throat and the raccoon straightened up again, his muzzle pursed in a look of pure irritation.

"Frey...this is Joey. He'll be using the office in the back to get some sleep. Joey, this is Frey, an acquaintance of mine." Hank introduced one to the other, and Frey squinted in the rodent's direction, before his eyes widened.

"Ah, this is the healing boy, yes? The one you spoke of?" Frey lurched his hands forward and grabbed Joey's left hand in his own, pulling him closer. "Ah, yes, yes...smooth skin, pristine fur...they do say the fountain of youth can exist, do they not? Tell me, when you die, can I--"

"Enough. Don't scare him." Top Dog warned and the raccoon halted, removing his hands and bowing his head in some sort of off-handed apology. Joey looked weirded out, but he didn't question it. If anything, he was primarily trying to ignore the fact that Frey was mostly naked, but for the only article of clothing slung over his shoulders: a lab coat. Top Dog was more than familiar with how Ivankov liked to work.

"Isn't Ivankov Russian? Why do you have an American accent?" Joey asked casually enough, and the raccoon snapped his gaze over towards the rodent again, squinting suspiciously. Joey lowered his gaze, wondering if he'd been rude.

"I was born in America. Hence...the accent," The scientist waved his hand again before turning around to Top Dog, who stood nearby. "I'm bored. Are you bored? Let's do something. This will take a while anyway."

"I have a feeling I know what you're implying," Hank cleared his throat. "Let's adjourn to the office, then."

Clapping his hands briefly in glee, the raccoon got to his feet and moved past them, padding his way down the cool tiles towards a door at the back of the research lab. Joey shot his mentor a quizzical expression and Top Dog shuffled awkwardly on the spot for a moment. In truth, Hank and Frey messed around a little here and there. Now that Top Dog thought about it, he was probably the only sort of physical companionship that Frey had at the moment, or had received for a long time. That would explain his eagerness, at least.

The rottweiler followed Frey through into the office, familiar enough with its interior. A desk and computer sat on the right left of the room and a spacious, lavish couch sat opposite, coupled with a coffee table sitting just in front of it. Draped over the couch sat Frey, his lab coat discard on the floor. He seemed happy to be in the nude, his elbows resting on the arm of the couch, looking at the rottweiler expectantly. Joey paused in the doorway and seemed to get the gist of what the raccoon had initially meant. He didn't look like he was really in the mood, however, so Hank pushed open the door opposite the office, leading into a near-identical room.

"Go have a lie down. I'll come check on your in a bit." Hank muttered, and Joey nodded, looking a little tired. He stepped into the other office, tugging the towel around him as he quietly shut the door behind him. Hank felt a brief stab of guilt, but he was sure Joey would be fine for now. Reconstructing his own body in various ways likely took a toll on him. He turned his attention back to Frey, who sat there leisurely, a small smirk playing upon his lips.

"I see you're learning, Mr. Ivankov," The rottweiler remarked, stepping across the room and closing the door as the raccoon sat up, making space for him on the couch. The canine moved into the available seat and sighed, leaning up against the cushions. He felt glad to sit down and his slightly aching joints subsided, at least for a moment. He felt the raccoon's hand greedily running across his bare fur, where the costume had burnt away.

"Mm, different texture, no doubt because of your little healer student," Frey remarked, digging his fingers against the short fur and gently kneading the flesh. "Quite remarkable."

"He's quite extraordinary..." Top Dog remarked quietly, watching as Frey's hands danced down along his body, touching and hovering above his athletic muscles. When his fingers finally reached the canine's crotch, he applied a much firmer pressure, cupping his digits against the outline of his bulge. Much like the rest of the canine's suit, the fabric around his crotch was also peppered with holes from debris, and areas where his costume had burnt away. Frey deliberately slipped his finger into one of those holes and pulled hard enough for the fabric to rip under his assault.

"Careful, those things are expensive." Top Dog remarked, but Frey seemed to care little for that. His fingers plied and pulled until he eventually ripped enough of the hero's clothing to reveal his crotch, both the sheath and the plump balls beneath them. With a smirk, Frey dipped his head down and teasingly ran his lips along the length of the sheath, watching Hank's expression out the corner of his eye.

Top Dog let out a quiet sigh, reaching a hand out and placing it atop the raccoon's head, encouraging him to keep going. Frey gave the canine's sheath a little bit of coaxing, enough for the tapered end of his cock to slip from his sheath, and then inevitably placed his lips around the tip, swirling his slender tongue around it. Top Dog shuddered in response and lidded his gaze. Frey was definitely getting better at this.

With each tender lick and lap, the canine's cock grew, growing steadily harder and larger over time. He quickly turned from half-mast to full-mast, and the knot at the base of his cock quickly began to grow and pulse, eager to be touched, to be licked. Frey wasn't about to let such an impressive length go to waste, and he ran his mouth down, sliding his tongue from the tip down towards the base, where he slathered his tongue along the thick, bulbous knot.

"THat's it..." The canine quietly muttered, stroking his thumb and forefinger against the raccoon's head, along his lovely fur. Frey slowly ran his mouth up and trailed it along the underside of his cock, before his mouth met with the tip again and he parted his lips, pushing the cock into his mouth.

He bowed his head remarkably low, plunging his lips all the way to the base, where the knot pushed against his muzzle. Hank's cock throbbed and pulsed within the scientist's mouth, aching for more, as the tongue slathered and rolled around every available inch of his member. Each suckle and slurp made Hank pant and groan, growing more and more pleasured as time went on.

Eventually, however, Frey stopped. He wanted to do more than just suck off his ally and benefactor. Slowly, the raccoon got to his feet and clambered up and over onto Top Dog's lap, pressing his nude body up against Hank's own athletic frame. Hank reached out and cupped Frey's hips, holding onto him and sliding his hands around to grope at the raccoon's cheeks. Frey was lithe and mildly attractive, so it was easy for Hank to be into him.

Slowly, the raccoon rolled back his hips, grinding his cheeks against the twitching cock and letting it slip in between his buns. The length of the cock slid up against his behind, and his quivering pucker pushed down against it, eager for it. Hank roughly gripped the raccoon's cheeks and raised him up, enough for the tapering end of his cock to prod and probe the scientist's pucker.

Top Dog and Frey had sex regularly enough for a little bit of dry penetration to not be too much of a problem, but the added spittle along the canine's cock made it easy for him to sink his member into Frey's behind, the tapering end sinking and pushing further and further in. He could feel Frey's innards squeezing around his cock, gripping every available inch.

With a groan of pleasure, Hank relaxed himself and allowed Frey the luxury of taking the reigns. The raccoon shuddered as he pushed his hips back, rolling them back as he sank slowly, pausing very so often to dip again, stimulating Top Dog's senses and causing him to dig his fingers against Frey's body. Hank moved his mouth forwards and let himself sink into the passion of it all, peppering Frey's neck with sensual kisses as he bucked his hips up against him, letting his knot squish up against the raccoon's behind. He probed his mind into Frey's own and picked up on the raccoon's desire, the images swimming through his head. It gave Hank an ego boost to realise the imagery and the raccoon's focus was on him, and him alone.

With a grunt, Hank rolled them over, pushing Frey down against the couch as he propped himself up on a knee, ploughing down into his lover's behind, feeling him shudder and tense beneath him. His rhythmic movements quickly bore fruit when he felt the pleasure intensify within his body, his thrusts mixed in with his own groans of passion and the gentle oozing of pre-cum in the scientist's behind. Frey huffed and panted, a lewd smirk spread across his face and he hooked his arms around Hank's neck, hanging onto him. The raccoon was always rather eccentric and fast-talking, but when they got down and dirty, he could be surprisingly quiet and dutiful.

Hank leant forwards just a little more, propping himself up with his right hand as he cupped Frey's hip with the other, their bodies gyrating together, accompanied by their fervent moans, their heavy breathing and trailing mouths. Hank kissed and licked along the raccoon's neck, his thrusts growing harder and faster, giving into his own desires as he felt the pleasure rise. He angled his body down and felt the aching twitching of Frey's cock occasionally prodding his stomach, reminding him that Frey was enjoying this as much as he was.

He could feel the pressure forming, the familiar sensation that warned him he was nearing his inevitable climax. The better is felt, the more he was inclined to thrust, until his hips were bucking in an irregular rhythm, each thrust accompanied by a wet slap of his knot against the raccoon's stretched behind. Frey began to let out quiet, breathy moans, his lips parted and his ringed tail coiling and twisting in excitement. It only took Hank another few rough thrusts until his knot pushed down into Frey's behind, forcing his ring to stretch and accommodate him. In a matter of moments, he was tied to him, and his climax joined it soon after.

His knot swelled as a shuddering spike of pleasure rolled through his, making his body tense for a brief moment before it suddenly relaxed. He orgasmed, thick spurts of seed shooting into Frey's behind as the raccoon's muscles squeezed and gripped around his knot, coaxing the strings of cum to shoot with a greater intensity. Hank tugged his hips back, coaxing his member just a little more as he greedily clung to Frey's body, holding onto him and burying his head down into the crease of his collarbone. Frey sighed in bliss and the two of them slowly rolled, moving into a position where Frey could rest on top of him without damaging Hank's knot. Top Dog curled an arm around him, stroking the small of his back, still firmly tied.

"Do you want me to...?" Hank began, and the raccoon grunted.

"I can do it later. Sometime." Once again, Frey denied letting Hank jerk him off, much to the canine's bewilderment. He didn't press for why, much like always, and relaxed his head down. Frey propped his chin up on his arms, stop Hank's chest, and stared at him intently.

"Hmhm. So, an explosion? Did you plans fail?" He asked quietly, going straight back to business after their lewd activities.

"No. Well, sort of. I got what information I needed," Hank began. "We'll need to move the lab. Can you get everything ready?"

"Yes, yes. 2 days, I think. 3. Maybe 4."

"Make it 2."

"I like it when you order me around." Frey teased, overdoing it on the flirtation, but it still make Hank smile, if only for a brief moment. He found himself quickly lost in his own mind as he plotted his next move whilst Frey silently watched him. It would have weirded him out, if he weren't already deep in thought.

He had a feeling he knew what to do next. All that was left to plan it out.

In a week, he'd break Eracervine out of Pandemonium.