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Apple of the Hypnotic Eye

For JCFoxman

By Draconicon

It had been a week since his 'escape' from Carmelita Fox, and during that time, Sly had been rather...engaged...with certain fantasies of her. Nothing too rakish, of course, but rather ones of romance and mutual pleasure. The raccoon had been rather entranced by the officer's assets during their last meeting together, and he wondered just how much of that had been mutual at the time. There had not been a chance to try that in the helicopter, and he wondered how it would feel to be intimate with her...well, if she wanted it.

He was pretty sure she did, but considering the fact that they were on opposite sides, there was no way for him to be sure without getting somewhere private again. No chance of that anytime soon, though.

"Hey, Sly, you're gonna want to see this."

That was from the front of the van. Bentley. He opened one eye, looking towards the chair-bound turtle.

"Heh, what's the matter?" he asked with a good-natured grin.

"There's, uh, something big here."

"How big?"

"Clockwerk big."

That was enough to get him to roll off the padded mat and onto his feet. He leaned over the back of the driver's chair, looking down at the turtle's tablet. Murray must have been off getting food while he had been 'napping', which meant that it was just the two of them. The raccoon cocked his head to the side as he glanced at the image on Bentley's tablet.

It was an eye, one that looked like it had been ripped out of a robot, and he groaned under his breath.

"I thought we blew that up."

"So did I, but I guess we missed a piece."

"Where is it?"

"Bolivia."

"Bolivia? That's more than a drive away."

"Yeah, but we can't just leave something like that out in the open, can we?"

"Yeah, you're right about that. Okay. Soon as Murray gets back, we'll head out."

Click.

The back of the van opened, and the purple hippo appeared. The breeze of winter air blasted him from behind, and the raccoon's tail went up almost immediately at the puff of cold across his bare legs and backside. He looked over his shoulder at the huffing, puffing, black-masked hippo, and chuckled at Murray's befuddled stare.

"...What'd I miss?" the hippo asked.

"Time for another heist, Murray."

"Oh, boy..."

A short drive and a long - stolen - flight later, they arrived in Bolivia. From there, all they needed to do was steel a helicopter, and they were solid. Murray was a little rougher about it than Sly would have liked, but they were on the clock. If they knew about the Clockwerk eye out here, then INTERPOL would know about it soon enough afterward, and that would mean that they would be sending an agent to take it for themselves.

For good reason, admittedly, but that was still something that grated. Clockwerk was the business of the Coopers, not anyone else's. The only upside was the possibility that they might send Carmelita, and if they did...

Well, Sly wasn't shy, but even he had to keep certain things covered by his tail during the helicopter flight through the night sky. Murray and Bentley were pretty understanding about a lot of things, including his habit of going bottomless anywhere and everywhere, but they tended to draw the line at him showing a boner to them when he was doing it.

They spotted a camp at the base of the mountain where Bentley's info said the eye was. Even from a distance, Sly could see the telltale signs of the Klaww gang. The little banners, the subtle markings along the tents for those that knew what to look for: it all pointed to the same thugs that they'd been chasing all over the world just a week ago.

"You'd think that they'd get the message about Clock-La going down," Murray said.

"Well, you know the Klaww. Dumb as stumps, and twice as slow," Sly said. "Are we getting anything else on this, Bentley?"

"Well, thankfully, they're doing a lot of talking," the turtle said. "They don't have the eye yet, but it is in a vault here. I guess they didn't get the real one for Clock-La, huh?"

"She was dangerous enough without it. What do we know about this?"

"Well, Clockwerk was able to keep everyone working for him when they should have splintered a long time ago. According to the Thievius Raccoonus, there was something about a rumor of him having some kind of hypnotic ability. If that was the case..."

Then the Klaww gang would have something truly dangerous if they got their hands on the eye. The vault was the only protection that the eye actually had, and considering the way that the other bands of criminals had been able to get around the other vaults - if only through sheer numbers to throw against the vault traps - then they needed to get in there, fast. Sly shook his head as they flew the helicopter right up to the edge of the camp, just before the line of searchlights that were panning over the skies.

Sly winced as he hopped out and hit the snow. It was almost up to his calves, and his traditional bottomless look suddenly felt more impractical than usual. He was just thankful that the fur kept most of the chill out, but only most in this case. It was far colder than the cities out here.

"Sly."

He turned as Bentley tossed him a walkie-talkie. He tucked it against his belt, turning the volume down to almost nothing. The last thing that he needed was to be given away while he was sneaking around.

"Keep in touch," the turtle said.

"Only if I need help."

Sly walked around the front of the helicopter, giving one last look over his shoulder. He paused, his eyes lingering on the helicopter antennae. There was something that was wrapped around the base that he hadn't noticed before, and he smiled at the sight of the second transmitter with the INTERPOL logo on it.

Looks like they already know we're here...let's see how long before their Inspector shows up.

The camp was easy enough to sneak through. The Klaww gang were never known for being particularly observant. Oh, they had a way of sniffing out valuables that made sure that they would never die out due to a lack of success, but they weren't very good at noticing someone that knew how to be a proper thief. They never had, and unless he made a stupid mistake, they never would.

Of course, that didn't mean that he was able to just barge through the whole place. The sneaky raccoon reached for the skies as he went from tent to tent, pausing on one tent pole after another to observe the situation before moving further into the encampment and closer to the mountain. Out of boredom, he would pose on one foot or the other, striking ever more outrageous postures as he hopped around. The gang never noticed, but if a certain Inspector happened to be following, he was sure that she would notice what he was doing.

His thoughts slipped regularly to that vixen. She was quite the piece of eye candy, and quite intelligent, too, much to his chagrin in the past. It was all too easy for any thief to start underestimating those that never caught them. INTERPOL as a whole was more hapless than they were effective, and he had long-since given up on them doing anything about the thieves of the world.

Carmelita, however, was another story. Lovely, curvy, and altogether intelligent, with a snarky sense of humor and a teasing accent that made his fur stand on end, she was the lady for him. Or at least, she would have been, if they weren't on opposite sides. Thief and cop, cop and thief.

A pity, really. It would have made their lives infinitely better if they were on the same side.

Shaking his head out of his fantasy life, he made another leap, reaching the center of the camp. Voices rose from a gap in the tent, and the raccoon smiled. Time to snoop.

Wrapping his legs around the top-most tentpole, he lowered his head down, down, down, until he could flatten his ear against the gap. Rough, deep voices rose up to meet him. Despite the howling wind, he didn't cover his other ear; any experienced thief knew not to focus so hard on one thing and leave themselves open to a nasty surprise. Besides, with his ears, he could hear them perfectly.

"What's the progress in the vault?"

"Nothing past the first trap, boss. We've gotten rid of that one -"

"About time. Most of the boys are going to have a needle phobia for the rest of their lives after that."

"But we can't get past the lasers."

"Lasers?"

"Yeah, boss. Lasers."

"What the hell? When did old Clockwerk go for that?"

"Dunno, but the last guy we sent through got chopped to bits by them."

"Chopped? Lasers don't chop!"

"Well, he's still in bits."

"Dammit. Alright, find someone else. See if we can get some mirrors or something that'll bounce the lasers around. We need that eye. If we get that, we can control the minds of everyone around."

Well, that'd make you an actual rival at that point, at least, Sly thought, curling his stomach muscles and dragging himself back upright. And that would make you dangerous, too. Wow. Someone has actual dreams for once.

However, it did make it all the more imperative that he find his way to the eye before they did. That meant that he'd need to make sure that they didn't follow him into the vault, too, which meant that he had to get through the traps without disarming them.

That was going to be fun.

As he perched on the pole again, he looked up at the mountain. His eyes narrowed through his mask as he saw a flash of gold-brown further up the slopes, something that was there and gone again in an instant. He knew what it meant, and he smirked a bit more.

Looks like Inspector Fox is back in the game. Time to up my own.

The entrance to the vault was, of course, unguarded. There wasn't anybody there to stop him, probably because of the recent death and nobody wanting to be volunteered to go next. He hung from the ceiling by his staff, the gold hook at the tip allowing him to survey the room to see what this trap was all about.

Old Clockwerk, as usual, had dug the whole place out and then replaced it with steel walls and cameras everywhere. They were all pointed at the ground, of course; the bird never wanted anyone looking up at him. They were always to look down at the minions. One of the many reasons that Sly had been able to sneak through his fortresses and hideouts in the past: they never bothered to look up for someone that didn't have wings.

Hmmm...looks like a standard emitter array on either side. Something that activates from a pressure panel that stretches ten feet forward and ten feet back from the hallway. So, even if you jump, you still trigger it and get hit by it.

Looked like it was another trap that the old bird had set up for anyone that couldn't fly. In other words, it was going to be a piece of cake for him.

Swinging back and forth until he had the proper momentum, Sly began the process of swinging himself from one hanging point to another. Another little weakness of the old bird's constructions, that. There were plenty of little places for him to sink his hook and make his way across the ceiling since old Clockwerk liked places to perch and rest during his time in his hideouts. It made for an easy way to get from one side of the room to the other.

He was just about to grab the hook above the emitters when the raccoon saw something in the distance. It was barely more than a slight reflection of light off glass, but it was enough to warn him.

Sly both pulled himself up and went into the splits the moment that his crook caught the end of the perch. It went down by an inch or two, his weight dragging it down, and a new laser shot right between his legs. If he'd been wearing pants, they would have caught fire. As it was, his balls were dangling right over the burning, pulsing line of light.

As the laser thrummed just beneath him, Sly let out a long, slow sigh of relief that he'd been quick enough to see it. If he'd just kept swinging, he could have ended up with a burn hole right through his guts, or legs, or somewhere else on his lower body. As it was, the warmth was enough to leave him feeling just a bit overheated down there, and he was at least a half-inch above the beam.

Alright, Clockwerk, alright. So you have a few little traps that I didn't expect...

He shook his head, giving a quick tug that dragged him up the rest of the way. As long as he was standing on the perch, he was out of range, it seemed, and it didn't drop any further.

Alright...where next...

There were other perches, but now that he knew what he was looking for, it was obvious that most of them were trapped, as well. Shaking his head, he pulled his walkie-talkie to his ear.

"Bentley."

"Finally. Where are you, Sly?"

"Second trap. There's a laser beam shooting right under me here."

"Lasers? You can deal with that."

"Yeah, not when they're right under my balls, though."

"Oh, that kind of laser."

"Yeah. Can you hack the grid?"

"Um...I'll try. If it's not too convoluted."

"Just try."

He put the little talkie box back on his belt, shaking his head. A delay wasn't what he needed right now, and if Bentley couldn't get in, then he needed another way to get through.

As he spun his crook around, he paused. The tip was metallic, and when he looked at it, he could just make out his reflection in it. The raccoon cocked his head to the side, looking back at the laser.

"Huh...I wonder..."

He lowered the crook into the beam, letting it touch just the tip. Rather than melting the gold, the beam bounced, reflected into the wall on his right. The raccoon grinned a bit further, slowly tilting the tip of his crook, bringing the laser around until -

POP!

He bounced it back the way it had come, and the emitter fizzled as it was blown out. Smiling to himself, Sly fell backwards, hanging from the perch again.

"Alright then. That'll work."

The maze of traps was perilous enough for the average person, but not for a Cooper. Sly made it through one after another with relative ease, even before Bentley found a way to short-circuit the high-level lasers that would have caused him trouble.

Of course, there were other traps besides simple lasers. There was an acid pit, a piranha pool, and more, and there were times when he had his bottomless nature come close to biting him in the ass. The time that he ended up doing a vertical split to avoid getting blasted by a flamethrower was one such time; the extra layer of clothing would have been rather nice if he had been any slower.

As it stood, he was definitely a little thinner-furred down there by the time that he reached the final chamber of the vault. He shook his head, pulling his hat down and dabbing the sweat off his face. He had worked harder than usual to get here, but it was all worth it.

There, on a pedestal in the middle of the room, was the Eye of Clockwerk. The shimmering orange lens stared down from its lifted place, glaring with power at anything that dared to step before it. Even from where he stood, looking at it sideways, Sly could feel the sheer presence of the eye, the power that it pushed out and the dominating sort of trance that it was trying to instill on anyone and everyone.

There was no way that anyone could hold out against that for long. He shook his head, walking up the steps to the pedestal. No traps here; Clockwerk would have made sure that this place was secure, and that bird wouldn't have risked his prizes for anything, not even with some doomsday trap that some hero or himself might inadvertently trigger.

He was just about to take it when a gun pressed against the back of his head. The click of the bullet being chambered froze him to the spot.

"Do not move, Cooper."

Then the voice unfroze him. He smiled, chuckled even.

"Carmelita. Good to hear your voice again."

"You escaped me last time, Cooper. I don't think that you understand what that means to someone in INTERPOL."

"You got your badge back. You're no longer framed. I think you came out of that pretty good."

"You left me with a black mark. I intend to correct that."

"After our long chat in the helicopter? I'm hurt."

"You used that to get away. Just as you have tried to use me in the past."

"I'd like to think that we used each other."

"Uh-huh. I am sure you would like to think something like that."

The banter was as lovely as he remembered, and so was her voice, as a matter of fact. He rather loved that softer lilt to it, that way that it seemed to flow and caress with every word. He would have loved to see how that voice sounded in other situations, too.

Considering what was right in front of him, he might just have the opportunity to get out of this with what he wanted, too.

"Carmelita, we aren't going to fight, are we?" he asked.

"If we must, Cooper. Now, give me the eye. It must be taken to the proper authorities."

"You mean the ones that tried to use it before?"

"I said, the proper authorities. Neyla was not among them."

"Hey, hey, calm down. I was just teasing."

"I'm sure. Now. Please. The eye."

He nodded. This was about as good as it could get, and he doubted that it would have gone better if he had planned it out himself. Hell, if he could have been filming this, he was pretty sure that Bentley and Murray would have assumed that he was staging this part. He was amazed that Carmelita was allowing him to go this far, particularly considering that she had to know what he'd do next.

Maybe she wants me to do this part. Maybe she wants this to go this way.

The raccoon reached for the eye, and as soon as he touched it, he turned and pointed it at the vixen.

The effects were immediate. Her sharp eyes immediately went slack, a glow burning in the depths of her gaze. The tight grip she had on her pistol loosened, though not enough for her to drop it. She tried to look away, but every time that her eyes twitched even slightly away from the mechanical eye, they were drawn back less than a second later. She gritted her teeth, fighting the hypnotic power...

And then stopped. Her mouth went loose, open by just a hair, and she dropped her arms back to her sides. She stood there, completely docile and calm, not the slightest hair out of place as she stared straight ahead, right at the eye. It was the work of a moment to put her in trance, and Sly shook his head in amazement.

"What do you know? It worked."

"..."

"How do you feel, Inspector?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she said, her voice quiet. "It's hard to think."

"Well, I'm sure that it's a load off your mind, then. You're always trying so hard. Don't you ever want to relax?"

"All the time," she muttered.

"And why don't you?"

"Because if I'm not good enough, then...I can't pick my assignments...I can't choose to keep chasing you."

"Oh? Do you like chasing me, then?"

"I do..."

The little discourse had gone in a direction that he hadn't expected, not that he was complaining. He smiled as he looked her up and down, unable to help himself as his eyes settled on her breasts. They were nearly exposed, and there had been days when he wondered if she wore that top just to tease those that had the luck to be taller than her.

A naughty little idea occurred to him. It wasn't something that a true gentleman would do, but the Coopers had never been entirely a line of gentlemen. They were more gentleman rogues, and this was more in line with that side of him.

"I think that, with all the chasing, I deserve a little show."

"A show?"

"You've been staring at me all this time," he said, reaching down and squeezing his sheath and sac. "Perhaps you should let me see a little of you."

"Oh...that kind of show."

"Come on. Take off your top. Just this once."

"Alright."

Alright?!

The fact that the hypnosis would make her willing to do that was enough to shock him, even with everything that he knew about Clockwerk's power. The fact that she actually unzipped her jacket, then unbuttoned her shirt, and then undid her bra before pulling them all off at once was even more surprising. His eyes went wide as her breasts were finally put on display, soft, large, and with a dark color right at the nipples that faded into a soft yellow further outwards.

They were large, too, large enough to be worthy of the word 'boob' rather than breast. She would breathe and they would bounce, and then she would do it again, and they would do that again. The soft movements of her stomach pulling in, the way that the cold air had already made her nipples hard, the entire experience was enough to make him grin, and more than enough to make his shaft throb out of his sheath.

Well, no shame in letting her see that.

"I have to say, Ms. Inspector, I think you look better without the badge," he said, fondling himself as he leaned forward. He rested the eye against the pedestal again, pointing it right at her. "And you certainly have plenty to offer when someone wants a look, don't you? Not skimping on anything here."

"It's what I want..."

"Hmm? What was that?"

"I wanted to be seen...and noticed..."

"Well, you certainly are, now. Why don't you take off those pants, too? Let me see everything. If you want to show off - oh, wow..."

She was already at it. There was no need to persuade her to do it, no need to take the time to word it more eloquently. She was just doing it. As those tight pants came down, revealing a pair of black panties that were as lacy as one could imagine, he stared at the spot right between her legs. She was already a little wet, already showing signs of wanting more.

...Was this really under all that hard exterior? he wondered. Maybe that helicopter chat meant more than she wanted to admit...

She had to wiggle a bit to get out of her pants and panties, and that was more than a little arousing for him. Seeing the way that she had to push and pull and tug to get her rounded rump out of those tight pants made him wonder just how she'd look under him, and that made him all the harder.

Seeing the wetness between her legs getting stronger, he smiled, shaking his head in disbelief. He almost reached for her, but he stopped himself. That would be going just a little too far.

So, instead, he reached for her breasts, rubbing them, squeezing one gently. It still drew a moan from her, and he chuckled.

"Heh, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you were falling for me."

"Who says I haven't?" she said in that quiet voice.

"Well, you, for one."

"Maybe I want you to take it further."

"Maybe I want to do that myself."

"Maybe you should."

"..." He paused in the middle of groping her breasts, slowly lowering them back to her chest. Cocking his head to the side, he looked her right in her glowing eyes. "Are you saying that you want me?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to have sex with you?"

"No. I want you to ravish me."

Ravish. Well, now, that was something that a Cooper could do. Sly had been wanting something like that for a while, and to hear it right from her lips, knowing it was the truth after she'd been entranced by the eye, meant that it wasn't a trick. She really wanted this. She really wanted him.

He smiled as he guided her down to the floor, gently running his hands along her breasts again. A little whispered suggestion, and her legs were spread, showing off everything down there. Her juices were running freely, slowly dripping down from her sex to her other hole. The need she had might have been hidden before, but the hypnosis had brought it out, made her all the more eager for him. It was the greatest compliment that a Cooper could ask for.

As she kept her legs spread, he rested his hands on her boobs. Every little touch he gave her was answered with a moan or a shiver, always giving him the reminder that she wanted this, that she wanted him. The raccoon leaned in, kissing her lips softer than he expected to do, only for her to kiss back with all the fervency that he might have lacked. She moaned into the embrace, her legs slowly wrapping around his hips.

"Cooper...Sly..."

"Yes?"

"Take me."

"Well, how could I deny the wish of a lady?"

He smiled as he slowly slid forward, his erection already pleading to be unleashed. He ground against her once, twice, before slowly pushing in, feeling her part down there. There was some slight looseness, some experience, and he wondered if it was with other cops or with toys.

Then he was inside, and nothing else mattered. She squeezed down, holding his cock tight and pulling him yet deeper. He groaned, arching his back, his tail swishing about as he gripped her boobs all the harder, groping them and drawing moans from her in the process.

"Oh, Sly..."

"Mmph...Inspector..."

"Carmelita...please...and just...just take me!"

There was no hesitation on his part. As she slammed her legs around his hips, crossing her ankles at the base of his tail, he slammed into her. She moaned, her breasts bouncing from the first thrust and with every thrust after, bouncing and rolling against her chest. Every time that he shoved into her, she moaned again, and he swore that she was getting wetter, slicker down there. She squeezed down on his cock again and again, and he groaned as he buried himself up to the hilt inside of her.

Her eyes closed, but the hypnotic glow continued to shine from under them. She was honest with him, finally, no longer hiding how much she needed him. She rolled her hips up to meet him, her soft curves and hard muscles combining into a most exquisite sensation. He met each hip roll with a thrust, and she was groaning under him in short order, just as he was panting for her.

In, out, in, out, each thrust wet and hot, sliding along walls that gripped at his shaft with abandon. She made it clear every time that he bottomed out in her how much she wanted him, and she arched her back against his hands, making him press harder into her boobs. She seemed to love it every time that he squeezed them, every time that he pinched at the nipples, every time that he simply groped them.

She loved everything that he did to her, and soon, there was a soft hint of red under her eyes, a blush of embarrassed pleasure. The vixen didn't speak, but she did keep pulling him deep, not letting him slow down, not wanting it to stop.

He didn't want it to stop, either. Sly leaned in, his head against her breasts and his hips humping away. Thrust, squelch, thrust, smack, thrust, thrust, thrust. He couldn't stop moving, couldn't pull himself away from her. Even hypnotized, she had all the strength of her normal self, but now, her urges were as honest as she had asked him to be. Thrust, hump, thrust, hump, her legs pulling him against her, holding his cock inside of her so that it couldn't get away. Her inner walls clamped down around him, massaging his shaft, milking, keeping him pinned against her so that he would be forced to cum inside.

There was something about the fact that the INTERPOL officer was as imprisoned by her lust and love as she had pretended to want to leave him. It made him hotter, wanting to leave her with something to remember him by.

As he groped her breasts again, turning his head to kiss one lovely globe, she arched her back. The sudden tightness that followed left no doubt about what had just happened, and she moaned out loud as she came. He huffed, feeling her clenching down around him, milking him, begging for his seed.

And so, he gave it to her.

With one, two, three quick humps, he pushed himself over the edge. She dug her toes into his hips, holding him against her, and he felt the warmth of his seed and her juices mixing around his shaft. The way that she panted under him, it was clear that she had loved it just as much as he had.

Huffing to himself, the raccoon pulled back gently, taking his time to slowly withdraw. Her sex was spread open slightly as he did, some of his cum oozing from her. He smiled, patting her thigh as she stared up at the ceiling.

"Guess I love you, too," he said, shaking his head. "Heh...who would have thought, you and me...I wonder if you'll even remember this..."

It was a question for another time. He leaned down, kissing her lips for a moment before he got to his feet again. Grabbing the eye off the pedestal, he began the trip back out of the vault. As long as the laser grid stayed down, he'd be fine, and he had every reason to believe that Carmelita could leave the vault on her own. She had made it in, after all, and that meant that she had found a safe path.

Who knew? Maybe they'd see one another again, soon, and he could see if he could get her to do this again without using the eye.

The End

Summary: Sly Cooper makes his way into a vault where an eye of Clockwerk has been detected. Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately - someone else has found it, too.

Tags: M/F, raccoon, vixen, fox, Sly Cooper, rule 34, hypnosis, nudity, vaginal, creampie, cum, orgasm, Carmelita Fox, bottomless,