FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The Mall

The sleek executive saloon glided nimbly into the vacant parking space in a tight arc, engine rumbling contentedly at a low idle as the car came to graceful a stop, handbrake engaging with a few sturdy clicks of the ratchet.

"Make sure you forward a copy to my account," Sophie, the vulpine driver spoke intently inside the cockpit as she switched off the engine with the simple push of a button.

"But Miss Messa..." a disembodied voice all but whined, distorted by the speaker of the dash-mounted phone, "I'm not-"

"James!" the arctic vixen snapped, frustration momentarily overwhelming what little remained of her patience. A couple of breaths was all it took for her to compose herself, though she couldn't prevent a frown from tugging at her muzzle, "You've done it before under supervision. You can do it by yourself."

A tense pause filled the silent static from the speaker before a dejected sigh met Sophie's ears, "Okay, boss. I'll do my best."

"That's all I ask." She pinched the bridge of her nose, "We'll catch up on Monday."

A quick tap of the touch-screen terminated the call before James could offer any further objections, leaving the car in complete silence. The snowy vulpine allowed herself a moment to just slouch in the comfort of the luxuriant seat she currently occupied, taking a few deep breaths and running a handpaw lightly through the lengthy platinum fronds of her hair to compose herself, the one simply motion shrugging off a week's worth of stress and frustration that had finally culminated in that phone call.

Less than five minutes out of the office and she had clearly been damned for trying to end the day a little early for once. Too many late nights earlier in the week and all she wanted was to get away.

Working for the firm was challenging, that was for sure, but the pay they offered for her work was nothing to sniff at, to say nothing of the satisfaction of a job well-done whenever she could finally close a case. James, her current underling temp, could be a bit trying at times. She tried to give him the benefit of the doubt whenever she could. He was still relatively new, and he was making good progress - she just had to keep the pressure up.

Still, all work and no play... It was definitely time for some retail therapy!

Grabbing her jacket and her bag from the passenger seat, Sophie eagerly alighted from her car, doing her best to leave the week well and truly behind with a slam of the door. She made a bee-line for the mall entrance.

"Time for some new clothes!" she beamed, almost a skip in her step.

-o-O-o-

Fillin stood in statuesque silence in the entrance to the McNoodles restaurant, arms folded across his chest, face a professionally neutral mask. The tall lupine towered over the shoppers as they went about their business, watching them in unbracing silence.

At 6'6" he was easily amongst the tallest furs in the complex, unless a giraffe or something else exotic had managed to drop by and escape his notice. An arctic wolf and built like a breezeblock wall, he was certainly physically well-suited to his job as mall security. There were times it seemed he almost had a sixth sense for trouble too - years of experience meant he could usually pick out the troublemakers in advance, giving him time to keep an eye on them. So all-in-all it suited his temperament as well.

In the present moment it was a very nervous looking young male moggie loitering outside one of the ladies' fashion shops that had caught his rapt attention.

When the feline kid eventually entered the establishment Fillin deigned to move from his spot by the fast food outlet, opting to stand vigil instead in the entrance to the shop itself. Almost disappointingly, the cat picked up an item, paid for it in full at the checkout, then beat a hasty retreat from the store. He was in and out in under three minutes, still looking nervously ill at ease all the way. In a way Fil was pleased nothing had come of it. On the other hand, he didn't like being wrong... Still, he wasn't yet cynical enough to be ungrateful when an innocent shopper turned out to not be a lowlife criminal.

That aside, it had still been an almost excruciatingly slow day, and it didn't seem like that was going to change any time soon.

"Hey, Fil," the towering canid heard a silken purr from behind. Half-turning, he was greeted by the sight of the lithe, late-middle-aged panthress who owned the small, independent establishment. Though a good couple of decades older than the wolf, she was most definitely in very good shape. Fillin knew how well she looked after herself. The pair of them had been flirting almost shamelessly since the very first week he'd started working at the mall, only a few months earlier.

Amazing how much you could learn about a fellow fur from a little amorous repartee.

"What brings you to my store?" she batted her big yellow eyes up at him like some damsel in distress.

Fillin suppressed the urge to grin, "Just keeping my eyes peeled for the criminal element, ma'am." He doffed his cap to her with theatrically feigned respect.

The panthress openly rolled her eyes, "How many times do I have to tell you; call my Sylvia?"

This time Fillin's grin refused to be contained, "Always once more, ma'am."

Sylvia all but groaned in apparent disdain, but her growing smile betrayed her amusement.

"Stop reeling out crap movie quotes too, you big fuzz." She teased, "If you want to fight crime, go keep an eye on our changing rooms for a while. It's close to closing time and we don't want anything pinched."

Fillin bowed respectfully before cutting his way to the back of the shop, leaving the store owner to handle her business. As it turned out only two of the five fitting rooms were actually occupied, but none of the boutique's staff were presently in attendance. That in itself was pretty unusual, though he had no doubt that Sylvia had them all off tidying up and sorting stock for closing, ready for the end of trade.

One of the curtains promptly opened with a swoosh, prying the large wolf away from his thoughts and back to his present duties. A border collie emerged with a small selection of clothes draped over one of her forearms. She didn't even acknowledge Fillin's presence as she stalked past. Not that he minded too much. It was usually his job to remain a part of the background and remain unnoticed until needed.

But looking into the room she'd just emerged from he did notice that she'd left a rather more sizable pile of clothing on the floor of the small room beyond those she'd emerged with, along with a token atop the heap adorned with a large number five.

With a dejected sigh Fillin stepped in to pick up the mess - a few casual dresses by the looks of things - and deposited them on the sales table just outside the changing area for sorting. One of the staff could handle that. The token he reunited with its brethren on a peg along the wall.

His eyes flicked across the remaining drawn curtain. One customer down, one more to go.

-o-O-o-

Sophie was trying to embark on a major cash splurge, it would've been fair to say. And by the gods was the quest ever therapeutic! The Panther's Lair had always been one of her favourite clothes shops, catering to those of a beyond average figure. Finding anything she'd consider stylish to fit her generous curves could sometimes prove a challenge. It seemed the mainstream trend thought of the average female as a straight-up-straight-down unmoving mannequin, but Sophie had never left the Lair disappointed.

Today had proven to be no exception, proven as she'd made her way back towards the changing rooms with a selection of lingerie and one or two blouses that she hoped would make the most of her natural shape.

As she rounded the corner she let out a surprised yelp, startled by an unexpectedly enormous wolf she'd rather suddenly come face-to-face with. Though face-to-chest may have been a better description, the tall lupine towering over her. He dwarfed her more petite form by almost a full foot and a half, his soaring presence radiating authority. It felt very much like she'd just entered his domain. Sophie's eyes darted across his name tag and the two simple words there.

Fillin. Security.

Sharp yellow eyes looked down, scanning Sophie from head to toe, as if sizing the vixen up.

"How many items?" the deep rumbling bass of his voice resonated through the air between them, thick with an accent that Sophie couldn't quite place.

All she could do was look up and blink for a moment, "Um..."

One of his eyebrows cocked slightly, silently reinforcing the question.

"F-four..." she spluttered out sheepishly, cheeks lightly flushing even through her fur. Averting her gaze downwards, she flicked through the clothing just to double check.

The wolf turned and fished one of the tokens off its peg, handing it over without so much as a word. Snatching it quickly off him, the vixen beat a hasty retreat into one of the vacant fitting rooms and pulled the curtain shut.

Fillin let slip a silent chuckle that he'd been holding in since he'd first seen the startled look on the fox's face, allowing his serious mien fall away. After the small vulpine's clear initial shock playing the role of the overly-serious bad-cop had been nigh on irresistible.

It had worked perfectly.

And she sure was a pretty little thing.

-o-O-o-

Inside the changing room Sophie silently kicked herself. As her paws fumbled idly with the buttons of her blouse, working without care from top to bottom, the encounter with the wolf replayed through her mind.

She'd started off on the back-foot, the towering lupine catching her completely by surprise, not the usual demure female attendant that the smaller vixen had been expecting - he'd obviously been well aware of that, and he hadn't had to work too hard to keep her off-balance.

The entire thing made her feel uncomfortable. She was accustomed to being in the commanding role of any given situation - her job within the Firm had cultivated that trait within her. Yielding to uncertainty so quickly; letting go of the reins without so much as a little forewarning... Urgh.

It was repugnant. Maybe she was just tired?

Shrugging her blouse off her shoulders and working to liberate her arms, Sophie promptly hung the garment on the complimentary wall-hook. Nimble fingers, reaching behind and up her back, fished out the clasp of her bra and released it with well-practiced, fluid ease.

A relaxed sigh escaped the vixen's muzzle as she freed herself from the almost torturous device. Sure, it served a vital purpose, but as the hours of the day ticked by, like a war-weary turncoat, it could so easily switch from friend to foe. As of late it had seemed all the more willing to betray her like that - it was old and almost worn out. Not bothering to hang it up, she simply let it fall to the floor, quickly forgotten. She was here, after all, to seek its replacement.

Naked now from the waist up, Sophie caught a glimpse of herself in one of the full-length mirrors that the small space boasted, and allowed herself a moment to appreciate the view.

From the side, she liked what she could see - a reasonably generous figure, though not obscenely so, both attained and maintained through no small amount of effort and determination on her part. It was amazing what a well-regulated diet and a steady regimen of exercise could do.

Softly furred paws, starting high atop her clavicle, traced the gentle contours of her body. Fingers teased through the short down white fur of her torso as the followed the curve of her breasts, held pert by well-worked muscles, yet yielding to her palms as she took in the delicate softness that nature had blessed her with, her small hand-paws proving scant replacement for the support of a proper brassiere.

Moving down, fingertips tracing the mild definition of well-toned abs hidden beneath her fur, she could relish for a moment the results of so much hard work. Regular trips to the local pool and gym helped her to keep her shape without resulting in something so garish as an actual visible six-pack.

Venturing lower still, the explorative touch found her waste, defined by the delightful flare of her hips. The short soft fur she'd encountered this far gradually becoming a longer, thicker plush cut.

The fingers of her right paw deftly unhooked the clasp of her skirt, loosening it from her waist, gravity sufficient to do the rest of the work and pull it down her legs to pool around her ankles.

Stepping free of the bundled fabric, Sophie reached down and retrieved it, hanging the garment on a spare hook beside her blouse. Hopefully it would prevent any further creases.

She could return to her self-exploration.

She stood naked, except for a small pair of high-cut briefs, a contrasting black to her snowy arctic fur.

Turning slightly, hands resting on her hips, she shifted her posture slightly to accentuate her figure in what she considered all the right ways, her tail standing tall and proud behind her.

She was very happy with what she was seeing; all her hard work paid off.

Letting the moment pass, Sophie was quick to re-dress in the selection of clothes she'd picked out from the store. She delighted in the effects of the lingerie she'd opted to try, the bra creating a full, well-supported bosom that would no doubt create some very appealing cleavage with the right over-garment to match. In the case of the first blouse she'd picked out the buttons on it turned out to be ideally placed to either create a respectable business-woman sort of style, or if left with a couple of the top buttons undone it could be perfect to show off the sexy vixen - the real woman - that existed beneath the formal work persona she so often wore.

Sophie smiled inwardly as the thought of turning heads played itself through her mind.

The wail of an overly loud siren assaulting her from all around almost caused Sophie to jump out of her pelt, unrestrained panic clutching at her gut for one very intense moment. When the wolf's voice from the other side of the curtain overcame the oppressive alarm the rational part of Sophie's brain finally managed to kick in.

"Miss, that's the fire alarm. We have to evacuate."

Without so much as a second thought the vixen grabbed her bag and her jacket. She was quick to emerge, the large lupine ushering her at a brisk pace to the nearest fire exit.

They emerged into the carpark, joining what appeared to be a mixed group already dozens strong and rapidly growing. Staff and shoppers alike, it seemed, with a few other security guards thrown in for good measure.

Looking back towards the building Sophie had half-expected to see plumes of black, billowing smoke towering high into the sky, or even the lash of flame trying to engulf the building. She saw neither. Aside from the wailing siren and the teeming mass in the carpark the entire scene seemed remarkably, well, unremarkable.

A false alarm, perhaps?

Furs were murmuring amongst themselves, complaining about the inconvenience of it all so close to the mall's closing time, some wondering how long it would be until they could re-enter the building and complete their purchases, others trying to work out precisely what was going on.

Looking up at the big clock atop the mall's entrance, Sophie considered her options. She didn't really have the time to stand around waiting all evening for things to get sorted. Retail therapy would have to wait for another day.

So, she turned and began heading back towards her car.

-o-O-o-

Fillin was surrounded by the crowd, but still he stood apart. He was trying to keep an eye on everybody that he could - not an easy task in a group of hundreds, perhaps even thousands - taking stock to make sure those who had. for some reason or other, brought their unpurchased shopping out of the building with them during the evacuation. He didn't want them to leave the site without paying.

The white arctic vixen from the Lair had caught his eye, splitting off from the throng and heading for what was presumably her car.

The price-tag sticking out from the lowest hem of her jacket also caught his eye.

Making a snap decision, he cut through the surrounding furs at pace, trying to catch up with his target before she could get away. Beyond a certain point the surrounding furs simply opted to get out of his way. A large wolf stalking his way on some kind of hunt was not a creature to be trifled with.

Even over the receding din of the crowd he could hear the sound of the vehicle unlocking as the vixen approached it. Just as one of her paws made a grab for the door-handle the towering wolf reached her, one of his palms pressing flat against the door window, leaning his substantial weight into it so that the petite fox wouldn't be able to get it open.

Sophie visibly jerked back in reflex, the wolf's sudden appearance obviously catching her by surprise. She stepped away from him and tensed into a seemingly defensive posture. A couple of blinks filled the silent moment that drew out like a blade between them, realisation as to who she was sizing up dawning with surprise when she finally cast her eyes upwards.

"I can't let you leave." Filling stated bluntly before she could muster her words.

Sophie looked puzzled for a moment, a quizzical frown pulling at the corner of her lips. Her eyes soon lit up with realisation. "Oh. Oh! Look, Mister..." she allowed her eyes to dart across his name-badge again, having failed to commit his name to memory the first time, "Mister Fillin, I'm flattered, but-"

"Miss," Fillin cut her off, "I can't let you leave until-"

"I'm flattered," she interrupted. His interest was flattering, but she really couldn't be loitering around, "Truly I am, but I'm a busy woman and I don't think-"

"Miss, it's not that! You don't understand-"

"Look!" Sophie snapped, growing increasingly exasperated. "I'm in a hurry. I'm not interested, and I really can't be waiting around here all evening for you to reopen the mall so I can continue shopping!"

"So you're going to steal those clothes instead, then?" Fillin deadpanned at last, an eyebrow piqued suspiciously.

"Steal?!" Sophie shrieked, "Look, I don't know who precisely you think you are, but I-"

Fillin had heard enough, "You'd better come with me."

Taking hold of her forearm in one of his giant mitts he pulled her off-balance, twisting with some force - though careful not to harm her - to pin her arm against her back. He wasn't rough, just insistent and firm. It was pretty much the most basic of holds, and to the vixen's disdain there was no way she was going to escape it.

"Hey!" Sophie protested indignantly, unable to free herself, "Wait a minute!"

She tried a couple of times to twist out of his grasp, but it seemed whichever way she moved she just couldn't untwist her arm. Not unless she learned how to dislocate her shoulder in the next few moments.

It seemed unlikely.

Fillin was quick to shepherd her towards one of the external side-buildings, separate from the mall. As she was ushered in with indignity Sophie could see the engraved sign on the building's main entrance read "Mall Security" in large blue letters across its glass.

The doors swooshed open with a pneumatic hiss, granting them entrance, and sealing the way closed behind them. Fillin had guided the smaller vulpine into one of the multiple side-rooms that seemed to branch off from the entranceway foyer before she could even ask where they were going. The door behind them swung shut, this one emitting a much more resolute and foreboding metallic pang. An automated locking mechanism menacingly clicked shut, dashing any potential hopes of escape.

At last, the lupine brute released her arm. Sophie allowed the limb a few stretches to work out the kinks, momentarily rubbing the tightened aches out of it.

"What's the meaning of this?" she demanded hotly, rotating her shoulder.

"Sit." Came the only response.

There were only two chairs in the room, either side of a small ply table. The room had one window, narrower across than her shoulders, allowing in a little natural light. Not that it matters. It was high out of Sophie's reach and barred, no doubt also locked shut.

Sophie glared at her captor defiantly, but opted to sit anyway. It wasn't because she was told to. It just beat standing. Obviously.

"You can't treat me like this." She all but snarled, "I've done nothing wrong."

Fillin's expression remained professionally neutral. He slipped into the seat on the opposite side of the table from her. Even sat down he towered over her, but she refused to be intimidated by the monolithic wolf.

"Remove your jacket." An unmistakable order.

"What?!"

"Do you want me to call the police?"

Sophie's eyes went wide with the threat. What had she done to warrant this? What, precisely, was this wolf's game?

Grudgingly, she slipped her jacket free of her shoulders, then pulled it all the way off. With a few careful folds she placed it onto the table between them. Done, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and glaring across at the guard. She frowned intensely at Fillin, eyes smouldering with anger and demanding an explanation.

"Look down." He went on calmly, "Tell me what you see."

Sophie hesitated, considering for a moment - maybe he was some kind of twisted pervert? The thought was rather unsettling. But it was also very clear that she wasn't going anywhere without his say-so. She had to play her part in whatever game was currently being played out between them, or else she'd never be allowed to get away.

So, she looked down.

Her ears immediately drooped.

"Oh. Shit." There, resting right between her breasts, was a small security tag pinned right between the cups of her bra. Or rather, not her bra.

"I-I-I can explain!" she quickly pleaded.

Fillin nodded slowly, "You can explain shoplifting." He sounded utterly incredulous. She was sure he'd probably heard just about every excuse and reason in the book during his tenure in security, from a wide range of shoplifters eager to shirk the consequences of their actions. He probably wasn't expecting anything new from Sophie, either.

"Yes!" She went on, "I forgot I was wearing them. The fire alarm; having to leave so quickly; wanting to get home..."

"So you stole them."

"Yes! I mean, no. I didn't mean to steal them. I forgot I had them on at all!"

Fillin rubbed his chin, "And if I hadn't stopped you, you would've left with it all."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Sophie implored across the table, "If you let me return them to the store then I will. No harm done."

"The mall is evacuated." Fillin reminded her.

"My clothes are in there." She seemed to finally realise. There wasn't much to be done about that, though. They were currently irretrievable, "Can I give you the money? That should cover it and-"

The wolf interrupted her by raising one of his large paws, "Look, Miss..."

"Messa." Sophie offered.

Fillin nodded appreciatively, "Miss Messa, it's not my shop. If I take any money you offer then it looks like I'm accepting a bribe." He pointed up to the corner of the room. Following his direction, Sophie could see a small security camera nestled in the corner between two walls and the ceiling, "Then I lose my job."

"I'll lose mine if I get a criminal record from this." Sophie whimpered, resting her elbows on the table and cradling her face in her paws, "It was an accident." She looked up again, "You have to believe me."

Fillin locked his gaze, looking deep into the greenest of shimmering portals into her soul. The lupine guard had grown to feel that he was fairly good at reading people - a skill very much picked up on the job. He could see no hint of betrayal or lie in her eyes, no sign at all that she was being dishonest; untruthful. Only fear; genuine concern over what could potentially come of this. She was openly pleading with her eyes, if not in actual words.

With a resigned sigh Fillin blinked, "Okay. I believe you."

Sophie herself seemed to come down a rung or two, sinking into her chair as if all the tension in her body had finally been let out.

"We'll return the merchandise as soon as we can. Hopefully Sylvia will not press to take this any further."

"Thank you!" Sophie leapt across the table in delight, making it far enough over the surface to wrap her arms around Fillin's neck in what could only be described as a tackle-hug of gratitude. Caught entirely by surprise the vast lupine jerked back in his chair out of pure reflex, their combined momentum causing it to teeter backwards and then fall clean over.

Fillin found himself lying unexpectedly on his back, the petite vixen atop his chest. "Pinned" would've probably described it, though he was sure she lacked the mass to actually keep him down.

"Um..." she looked down at him rather sheepishly, "Sorry?"

Fillin rolled his eyes almost comically. Without much effort at all he used his enormous paws to take hold of the vixen's waist and lift her clear up off him, climbing to his feet at the same time, as if she weighed absolutely nothing at all.

"A-heh-heh-" Sophie rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment as Fillin placed her on her feet and began to dust himself down.

"You need to get out of those items if you're going to return them." He stated matter-of-factly as he straightened his tie.

"But what will I change into?"

The lumbering wolf hadn't really thought that far ahead, "All I can offer you is one of my spare uniforms."

The comparatively tiny vulpine looked him up and down, "That will bury me!"

Fillin shrugged, "It'll have to do until we can get back into the mall and get your stuff."

"Oh well," Sophie sighed, "Better than nothing I guess."

It took Fillin a moment or two to shake the sudden mental image that gave him of her wearing absolutely nothing from his mind, "Yes... Well, this way. It's in the cloakroom."

Turning around, he ushered her towards the door - much less insistently this time - and Sophie fell easily into step beside him as the lupine guard led her back the way they'd come in. She was glad to be out of the oppressive little interview room, the foyer-cum-office feeling almost spacious in contrast, and it left her with a slight spring in her step. She stayed close to the giant wolf, slipping slightly behind due to her shorter gait as he pushed through a large fire-door opposite. Just as well, really. They wouldn't have fit through at the same time.

The cloakroom seemed to be a wide, surprisingly airy space. Lockers lined the walls on either side, separated in the middle by a long wooden bench and more than enough room for an entire squad of guards to suit up without getting in each-other's way. At the end furthest from the door was a waist-high wall - at least, waist-high on the tall wolf. On Sophie it was more in line with her chest - separating the changing area from some showers. Along one of the side-walls of the changing area, though a break in the row of lockers, was another door, presumably leading to the toilets.

The entire space carried the distinct musk of sweaty males.

Sophie followed Fillin to a locker at the far end of the room, fairly close to the showers. Working the lock with practiced ease he opened the door, retrieving a hanger sporting what appeared to be an absolutely enormous tent of a shirt, a tie, and a very lengthy pair of trousers.

"There you go, Miss Messa." He removed the tie, tossing it back into the locker before offering the hanger to the vixen.

"Please," she took it from him with a small smile, "Call me Sophie."

"Sophie." He nodded, relinquishing his grip.

Turning and laying the uniform delicately across the bench so as to not crease it, Sophie removed her jacket once more and turned her back to Fillin.

The wolf watched her from behind as she began to unbutton her blouse. His eyes went wide as she let it slip free of her shoulders, fine cotton weave revealing soft white fur beneath - an unbroken monotone of snow, were it not for the straps of the bra she wore. The garment slipped down her arms, catching only at the crook of her elbows. Fillin's eyes bulged as she revealed everything down to her shoulder blades, the tussle of her hair falling just short of their lowest reach.

"Erm..." he could feel himself blush, "Excuse me!" and he darted back through the nearby door into the main office.

What he hadn't seen before making his escape was the smirk on Sophie's face. Her eyes twinkled with the subtle grin of victory.

"A little payback." She thought aloud to herself.

She continued to undress alone, a few other thoughts beginning to stray into her mind.

-o-O-o-

Fillin sat down heavily, the over-used swivel chair letting out a squeak of protest, and fished out a bottle of water from a small cooler under the main desk, taking a deep swig and trying in vain to un-fog his mind. A dozen thoughts raged through his head, far too many of them less than savoury.

He wondered if the little Miss Messa had meant to torment him like that.

He wondered if somebody like her could not be aware of the effect such actions would have on any red-blooded male.

He wondered just how far along she was now in undressing.

He began to wonder just how she would feel if he were to...

"No." he scolded himself out loud, splashing a little of his water on his face. He was a professional. He had to remain professional in thought and in deed. It was his duty.

A gentle tap at the door behind him jerked him fully upright in his seat. He didn't turn around straight away, a moment taken to dry his face with the back of one of his sleeves.

The strained creaking whine of the door's hinges flooded his senses as the ingress was obviously pushed open.

"Fillin?" his ears pricked at the sweet effeminate use of his name, "Do you have a spare belt? These trousers just fall off my waist."

The wolf's reaction was slow, but he eventually dared to turn around and look at her, rising to his feet. The moment his eyes fell upon her he wished they hadn't, and he found himself rooted to the spot.

There she stood, leaning casually against the doorway, wearing the pale-blue shirt he'd offered her earlier - and only his pale blue shirt, by the looks of things - framed by the doorway like a carefully crafted work of art. In any other moment Fillin might have considered it corny or clichéd to compare her to a masterpiece. At present, though, his mind simply wasn't working that way.

The shirt simply buried her, too many sizes too big to count, running the full length from her collar to just a short way down her thighs, looking much more akin to a short dress. The bottom couple of buttons were fastened, which thankfully served to protect her modesty, but the bright light cast some breath-taking shadows across her curves, and the open upper reaches of the shirt's buttons did little to hide a plush, furred cleavage that was ever so enticing. It also didn't escape his notice that the fabric was doing little to hide a pair of seemingly prominent little peaks.

He hadn't thought it was overly cold in the room...

Fillin dared to glance her up and down, his golden gaze drinking in her form from ear-tip to toe, an hour-glass figure that could well have held his rapt attention for an unending eternity. How her form teased him. Hungry eyes ate her up, taking note of every small detail that they could. Even the slight rise and swell of her bosom with each small breath escaped neither his eyes, nor his imagination. He envisaged her _with_him, breathless, panting, lost in some glorious momentary bliss.

Delightful curves all, in contrast with the pinch of her waist, surrendering again to the flare of her hips as if to simply emphasised the fact. Visible beneath the lowest hem of the shirt, toned thighs gave way below her knees to full calves and finally cute little footpaws that seemed perfectly matched to the alluring vixen's petite size.

She was an absolute vision.

A whistle drew Fillin's attention back up to her eyes, a flicker of mischief twinkling within emerald, her tail all but dancing as it seemed to half-curl itself around her.

This was entirely deliberate.

For a moment he half-mirrored her smirk.

"When you're quite done..." she teased him.

His smile turned into a blush.

Fillin stumbled over his thoughts before he could get so much as a coherent sentence to reach his lips.

"I'm..." he gave it his best shot, "Sorry. I don't-"

"Your tie."

"Excuse me?" he puzzled.

"Your tie." She repeated, "Can I borrow it?"

"Oh. Sure." Fillin was a little bit confused by her request. Nonetheless he undid the Windsor at his neck and handed the red sliver of material over to her. As she took it he watched the vixen wrap it around her waist in a big loop, pinching in the shirt, drawing the fabric tightly across both her chest and hips, causing the hem to rise just shy of obscene levels.

An involuntary, barely audible growl escaped Fillin's muzzle. Sophie didn't seem to notice.

"That should do for the trousers." She nodded, "I'll use it as a belt. Thanks!"

She turned and left the room. Fillin felt a small voice of concern in the back of his mind as the last of his rationality gave in to the desire that had been steadily growing for the arctic vixen.

A moment later, mind focussed only on one thing, he stalked her out of the door.

Sophie was already leaning over the centre bench when the wolf entered, seemingly folding the clothes she'd just taken off. The shirt had lifted at the back, her tail aloft and keeping the garment out of the way. It looked almost as if she were presenting herself to him, and the view he was granted of her well-formed posterior was a truly delectable sight to behold.

But that wasn't all that he could see. She was completely exposing herself to him.

Fillin licked his lips.

Sophie had to have heard the door open behind her. She had to be aware of the fact she was completely on display to anybody who saw her from behind.

But it was when the faintest scent of her drifted across Fillin's nostrils that he knew precisely what she must have been thinking.

He stepped forwards, grasping the vixen by her hips without giving any warning, pressing the bulge of his growing arousal firmly against her exposed womanhood.

She didn't yelp in surprise at his unexpected presence. Her ears were turned, facing back - they had been from the moment he entered. She had followed his every move; she'd been well aware of where he was; she'd been expecting him.

Any feigned thought of the clothing in her paws was dismissed as she dropped the trousers to the bench in a heap. Instead, she placed her paws flat against the varnished benchtop for support, just to keep herself balanced as the wolf held her from behind, pressing firmly forwards against her rear.

Turning her head, Sophie looked back over her shoulder at him through eyes half-lidded and smouldering with an unassertive confidence. With that single gaze she both gave to him her consent, and her surrender.

"Are you sure you want this?" Fillin asked her after a moment or two of silence.

The petite vixen didn't reply in words. Instead, she lifted her tail higher still, draping it back over the wolf's shoulder, lowering her torso as far as she comfortably could. Sophie gave her back the slightest of arches, pushing her rear back and essentially grinding herself against the wolf.

Fillin stifled another growl, her physical affirmation stoking something base, almost bestial inside of him, a pleasured shiver suffusing his entire body. His rigid arousal was crying out to be released from captivity and unleashed upon the sexy creature before him.

He didn't need any further prompting.

Sophie, looking back over her shoulder still, watched the enormous wolf intently with her own hungry eyes, emerald pools of desire spurring him on.

Without breaking eye contact for a moment, Fillin reached down and pulled open his zip. His other handpaw worked to release his belt buckle, trousers promptly falling free of his waist and to the floor.

All that kept him from her was the thin taut fabric of his boxer shorts. The two buttons that held the garment's crotch together struggled valiantly against his pulsing desire, but ultimately they were betrayed by a single click of the lupine's fingers, buttons forced through their respective eyes until there was nothing left to hold him back.

A lewd smack filled the air as Sophie felt his length slap against her rump as it sprang forth. Anticipation filled her in an instant, hopefully soon to be followed by something much more substantive.

Fillin looked down at the vixen, pausing and taking her in as their eyes met. Sophie offered an almost imperceptible nod of approval.

Holding her firmly by the hip with one paw, Fillin took aim of himself with the other, running the head of his member along the exposed lips of her eager womanhood. He could feel the shudder that passed through her body. A gratified smirk parted his lips as he repeated the action once more with precisely identical results.

Now he had her.

He'd intended to tease her some more - payback for flaunting herself so brazenly, perhaps - but his need to take her right there was a difficult urge to resist. In the end his desire made up his mind for him.

And so did the arctic vixen.

Sophie pushed herself backwards, taking matters into her own paws, and gasped as his pointed head promptly parted her. That first intrusion was a sweet sensation of release all in itself, and one she truly loved to relish.

When she felt Fillin's grip take hold of both her hips and pull her back the rest of the way, his full length slowly, relentlessly filling her, the gasp turned into a throaty moan of almost elated triumph.

Only when her backside came to rest flush against the wolf's pelvis did Fillin stop. He held her there, captive, offering a moment for her petite little frame to adjust to his body; her womanhood to adjust to his girth, his length, his mere presence.

There, inside the vixen, Fillin found his own little velvet patch of paradise. He could feel the heat her core, he could smell her desire, and he could sense every minor tremor and tremble that ran through her body as he kept himself hilted.

Sophie felt him shift position slightly, realising that he was leaning over her only when she felt his hot breath dance across one of her ears.

"You're mine now." She heard him rumble in a low growl.

She turned her head towards him, bending her torso almost awkwardly so that she could lean in and plant her lips along the side of his muzzle. Before she could even think of breaking the kiss she felt the sensation of his pelvis pulling back quite suddenly.

She was mid gasp with surprise when he turned his head towards her lips, capturing them in an impassioned kiss of his own that stifled the sound of her moans.

He pushed back into her with force as their lips parted, compelling her to lean heavily against the bench for support. Fillin held her firmly in his grasp, pulling her back against him each time he pushed forwards into her. With the vixen so off-balance she was almost entirely relying upon him to keep her on her toes.

Fillin was being dominant without being arrogantly assertive; forceful without being aggressive. It felt very much to the vixen as if he were claiming her, and Sophie was more than willing to give herself up in such a manner, to give herself to him.

And he was definitely more than willing to take her.

Her breathing came in increasingly shallow, ragged gasps and pants, matching tempo with every erratic thrust they shared as he repeatedly filled her to the hilt, withdrawing almost completely in the next instant, only to repeat the process over and over again in short order.

She yelped in surprise - though not the slightest in displeasure - as one of the wolf's handpaws took hold of a breast through the shirt he'd given her to wear. Fillin's strong digits wrapped up in the fabric, a firm grip sinking into the yielding, pliant flesh below, though still she overflowed his palm.

But that belied the true reason his hand was there.

With a firm tug he pulled at the shirt, the few buttons that the vixen had left fastened succumbing to the overwhelming force and popping off in several directions. Realising his actual aims, Sophie lifted one of her paws from the bench, almost losing balance as her lupine lover continued his assault, and wrenched the fabric of the shirt apart, fully exposing her left breast.

She placed her handpaw, tiny in comparison, over the back of Fillin's own and guided it up to cup the breast she'd liberated. Now with nothing between his palm and the paw-full, the vixen's aroused nipple pressed firmly into the pad of his handpaw. Sensitive dimpled skin grazing across a cool leathery palm, the motion accentuated by the back and forth impact of their rutting - the sensation was divine, drawing a gratified moan from the vixen's maw.

With her paw still atop his own, Fillin allowed her to dictate his actions, their joint ministrations leading to a surprisingly firm massage which was obviously being very well received. With her guidance the burly wolf was doubling, trebling, quadrupling the sensation she could get from him.

As her pleasure rose, their pace increased. As their pace increased, both their pleasures rose. A less than vicious spiral, the sound of her moans and his half-growled grunts blurred with the ever-more-forceful slap of her rump against his pelvis. She had to release his hand and support herself as best she could against the bench to avoid falling fully forwards.

Left to its own devices Fillin's paw ceased its eager massage, thick digits instead pinching firmly at her nipple. Something akin to a short, sharp growl or a snarl caught in Sophie's throat. It had hurt. But still she didn't protest. It wasn't an unpleasant pain.

Fillin smirked. He figured she would like that.

Disappointment flashed through her mind for a moment when his paw departed completely. She was about to cry out a protested whimper when she felt his palm reappear against her furred stomach, just below her bellybutton.

When two of his fingers snaked down between her thighs, seeking out and coming to rest either side of her clit, the shiver of anticipation that it engendered was almost bliss in itself, running the length of her spine and making the brush of her tail spasm.

Fillin's other hand finally left the vixen's hip, his forearm circling around just beneath her bosom. She felt him pull, and in an instant he was supporting her entire upper body with that one arm.

She had less than a moment to put any thought into the why before he made the what overly apparent. When the two tormenting fingers between her thighs came together, pinching and stimulating that most sensitive little nub, Sophie's gasp caught loudly in her throat, her back arched, and her knees nearly gave way entirely.

A small part of her mind managed to ask precisely what had just happened. The sensations coming from the rest of her body drowned out that inner voice like an orchestral cacophony.

Fillin, smiling as he thrust deep into her from behind, held on to the vixen's slight form with ease. His fingertips continued to torment her clit in firm, determined circles. Alternating between intent caresses and the occasional pinch, he knew that he was over-stimulating her to the point where pleasure and pain were probably indistinguishable. He could feel her inner depths quake and pulse around his throbbing length. Doing this to her seemed only to heighten his own pleasure.

He didn't know which one of them would succumb to it first, but he knew that whichever one of them got there the other would not be far behind.

Giving in to his own lusts he redoubled his efforts, fingers driving her pleasure with merciless vigour, impaling her upon his length with almost as much ferocity as one of his feral cousins. He took her upon himself from behind, again and again and again.

Sophie could do little else beyond ride the waves of a rising tide of pleasure. The sensation built up inside her at a staggering pace, ever onwards, ever faster, and she knew on an instinctual level precisely what came next. She stretched out her arms before her as the tension wound up on every muscle in her body, coiling like a spring, her fingers clenching at the furthest edge of the benchtop. With her best effort she steadied her legs, hoping her knees would lock and keep her upright even as she teetered forwards on her tiptoes, lifting her rear as high as she could, instinctually pushing back and trying to take as much of her impromptu lover into herself as she could.

"Sophie," she heard him grunt through every motion, "I'm going to..."

Words fell to breathlessness, but she knew full well what was coming next. She could feel it growing, swelling behind her. She darted one of her handpaws down between her thighs, hoping the other would manage to hold her up unaided, forcibly removing his paw away from where their bodies met and using her own fingertips to frantically stimulate herself. She was so close to release, she wanted to feel her climax before the lupine could finish, whilst he was still forcing his way in and out of her over and over again, and she let him know it with her rising fever-pitch of moans.

Fillin could feel that familiar tingle rising deep at the base of his shaft, body tensing up for its own release, as his knot swelled. He tried to hold it back as long as he feasibly could, but the pressure inside just continued to rise until it really did feel like he was going to explode. He was on the verge of a precipice, and the compulsion to fling himself over the edge was overwhelming.

Grasping Sophie's hips again, he frantically pulled her back against himself. Leaning over her he bit down on the tip of one of her back-swept ears. He dared to pull out once more, almost all of the way, and with a grunt instantly buried himself with enough force to hilt himself - knot and all - inside the furthest depths of _his_vixen.

The sensation of being stretched by a knot she had felt gradually swelling unleashed a cry of feral want from Sophie as she gave in to the pleasure of being so roughly tied, one final deep pulse triggered through the inner muscles of her womanhood causing the first waves of her own orgasm to come crashing down upon her.

It was more than her lupine lover could take.

With a loud growl and a hiss through gritted teeth he finally found release, erupting with intense throbs deep inside the vixen he had just tied. He held himself as deep as he could purely out of instinct, and he could feel the tight squeeze of her sex all around him as she rode her own riptide against him.

Sophie supported herself beneath him as best she could, every limb trembling as he fired the heat of his lust into her and her own orgasm began to wane, leaving her feeling filled in more ways than one as he pulsed for a few more seconds inside her.

She let her tongue loll out as she panted hungrily for breath.

Head turned to the side, Sophie met Fillin's eyes with a warm smile of satisfaction. To her surprise he leaned down and placed a very tender kiss on her cheek.

The vixen actually blushed, the gesture astoundingly sweet.

She felt him move, as if to try and separate from her.

"No!" she stopped him, "Please, just... A moment or two more. That was..."

Fillin nodded in understanding.

"Just stay here a little longer." She pleaded at a whisper.

Fillin felt no inclination to deny her, joined as they currently were. He hadn't actually intended to pull out - as if he even could - but at this point he didn't want to embarrass her by revealing that. Still, he needed to sit down.

This time, lifting her firmly by the hips with his strong paws, as gently and carefully as he could he pulled her as near upright as they could manage, turning on the spot and sitting down on the bench.

Sophie found herself now sitting in his lap - not that she minded - her legs dangling either side of Fillin's thicker thighs, toes not quite touching the ground.

The wolf's arms wrapped themselves around the vulpine's midsection, encircling her and holding her in an almost protective embrace, the rise and fall of his broad chest a surprisingly comfortable backrest.

Looking down, Sophie pulled the thin shirt a little bit more tightly about herself, eyes casually scanning the floor to see if she could spot the errant buttons they'd so eagerly cast aside before. She was distracted by the tingle of the soft, lingering caress of lips to her exposed neck, eliciting a soft giggle.

"Stop it, that tickles." She warned half-heartedly, swatting at his muzzle.

Fillin simply grinned like a fool and repeated the action.

With a roll of her eyes, Sophie just accepted the inevitable.

"I think we've ruined your shirt." She stated instead.

The wolf looked down over her shoulder, noting the manner in which Sophie clasped the garment shut with a single paw. The effect was to create a long, low-cut v-neck, showing off a delightful amount of cleavage and quite possibly running all the way down to her navel - he couldn't see anything below her bust, though.

"I think you've improved it." He teased playfully.

"You would." She chuckled a reply.

"It looks better on you like that than it ever did on me with all the buttons intact."

Sophie's chuckle turned into an out-right laugh, "Maybe, but we still need to go back to the mall for my clothes at some point. Unless you've got another spare shirt, how do we do that now?"

Knowing full well that they'd actually just rendered his only spare shirt completely useless, Fillin had to give it a moment of thought. His eyes wandered around the cloakroom, hoping for inspiration, but nobody else on the security team had left so much as a coat in there.

At last, though, his eyes fell upon the folded pile of clothes Sophie had changed out of earlier.

"I guess you'll have to put Sylvia's things back on."

Sophie smiled, then she laughed, "That's exactly what I wanted to do in the first place! Think how much time we could've-"

The sound of a loud-buzzing doorbell drowned out the last of Sophie's comments. Fillin rose to his feet in a sudden moment of forgetfulness, his arms around the vixen the only thing stopping her from being flung forwards onto the floor. Having Fillin's still-present knot forcibly yanked from within her would also have likely caused enough pain on its own without the addition of an unintended face-plant.

Still, it was obvious they couldn't remain like that. Bracing herself, she allowed for a half pace just forceful enough to pull him from her. There was a loud, wet pop and an instant of sharp, searing pain which quickly dulled to a throb as the wolf pulled free. It was an odd sensation, and the sudden emptiness left her with a lingering sense of longing.

Fillin ran his fingertips across her cheek apologetically before he reached down to pull up his trousers, already walking towards the door before he'd even finished fastening his belt.

"That's somebody at the desk." He explained.

Sophie couldn't help but offer a slightly mischievous smirk as he seemed to struggle to zip up his trousers, obviously still somewhat harder than would otherwise be ideal. He eventually managed it, with a little effort, but she could see that his posture was still held somewhat awkwardly to compensate.

"Stay here," he urged her before opening the door, "I'll be right back."

He vanished from sight.

Clutching the shirt closed at the collar, Sophie couldn't bring herself to resist the urge to follow, curiosity getting the better of her. Well, at least as far as the door. She didn't really want to go outside dressed in pretty much nothing at all and expose herself to the world.

Pushing the door ever so slightly ajar, she leaned out a little way into the room beyond, looking in the direction of the reception desk to see what was going on. She could see Fillin now standing behind it. There was somebody else there, on the "customer" side of the desk, but the wolf's sizable frame obscured the person partially from view.

Still, Sophie's keen ears could just make out the basics of their conversation loud and clear. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sounds.

"Hey Fillin," a distinctly feminine feline-like purr spoke, "I found these in one of my changing rooms. I think one of the shoppers may have left them without realising."

"I see..." Fillin's reply seemed somewhat slow and drawn out.

"Expensive attire." The female went on, "Very nicely tailored too. When they come back to collect it, be a dear and have them return my... Who is that?"

Sophie's eyes shot open. The feline - a panther she recognised from the Lair; Sylvia - peered around Fillin and looked straight at her.

Sophie had never felt more awkward and exposed in her life, quickly retreating partially behind the door.

Fillin looked back over his shoulder at Sophie. Their eyes met, and the pair of them couldn't help but share a knowing blush.

Their little exchange wasn't lost on Sylvia.

"Well..." she smirked knowingly, not having to work too hard to figure out precisely what was going on. She called out to Sophie, "Come join us, sweetheart."

There was no point in hiding anymore, the vixen realised with a sigh, pausing only a moment to go back and collect the clothing from the bench. She approached the desk quietly, still clutching the neck of the shirt tightly together, trying to protect whatever little remained of her dignity.

Sylvia's eyes were scrutinising, though not cruel, clearly examining the vixen from head to toe as she silently moved up to Fillin's side. To the panthress she seemed almost shy, keeping defensively close to the larger wolf. Sylvia found the unintentional sweetness of it all rather endearing.

"Petite." She noted aloud, "Voluptuous too. Cute, for a canid." She looked back up to Fillin who was trying to hide his mental state behind a well-practiced veneer of impartiality, "Nicely done." She winked.

The combined blush of both fox and wolf was almost atomic. It was precisely the reaction Sylvia has been hoping for. The smug gleam in her eyes was entirely justified.

"These must be yours, then." She pointed to the items she'd brought into the office, "They look about your size."

"Thanks." Sophie squeaked meekly, placing the attire in her own hands atop the security desk, "I accidentally took these from your shop when the alarm went off."

"Do you still want them?"

The question wasn't what Sophie had been expecting, "Well, yes..."

"Then keep them." The panthress smiled warmly, "Pay me the next time you drop in."

Sophie was touched by the kindness, "Thank you."

"No worries. If you forget then I'll just hunt you down and get it," her wink was playful, but her grin was broad and toothy, "I'm sure Fillin here took down your details."

"Well, actually..." Fillin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Oh, you bad, _bad_boy!" Sylvia laughed. She gave Sophie another knowing wink, making the vixen laugh in turn too, before turning away from the desk, "I'll leave you two alone."

Fillin watched, dumbfounded, as the lithe feline made her way out of the building.

"She sure has you pegged." Sophie chuckled from beside him.

Fillin looked down at her, still dressed in nothing beyond the remnants of his spare work shirt. Perhaps he'd let her keep it? It really did look far better on her. His mind had already began to wander again back to less gentlemanly matters, fuelled by recent memories. He had to force himself to focus.

"You'd better get dressed." He sighed at last.

Sophie looked up, their eyes meeting and one of her eyebrows piquing in curiosity, yielding to a little bit of a smile as she seemed to catch on to his thoughts, giving her a few ideas of her own.

"You know, I think you're right..."

But as Fillin watched she didn't move to pick up the clothing - her own, or the gift she'd just been left with. Instead, as he looked on, she rounded the security desk as far as the glass doors and flipped the lowest latch, locking it shut.

"What are you doing?" he asked her with a look of bafflement as she came back around the desk towards him.

"Getting dressed." Sophie stated matter-of-factly, this time picking up her belongings, "But first..." she grabbed Fillin's paw as she passed him, "I think I need a shower."

He offered no objection, and she pulled Fillin into the cloakroom behind her.

-o-O-o-

Author's Note: For anybody who's interested, Fillin is a Gaelic name meaning "Little Wolf", used somewhat ironically. Sophie is a Greek name meaning "Wisdom". Just because.

I've been sitting on this story for a couple of years now. That isn't even an exaggeration - the notes I have on paper for it are dated 2011. I just haven't gotten around to typing it up until now.

Not much I can really say. There's not a whole lot of plot there. It was just an exercise in writing smut. Hopefully at least half-decent smut.

The associated art is a piece I commissioned from CrimsonCanine. His art is exquisite, and I cannot fully articulate how pleased I am with the outcome. I owe many thanks for this. His interpretation of a very basic scene prompt is utterly remarkable.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed reading this. Thanks for dropping by. Please let me know what you think.

Regards, Sval