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Decoy

She was back again today, much to Randal's delight, the calico kitten in the pink and blue print dress with a backpack for her toys. He did not know how old she was, and he did not care; calico was Randal's favourite colouring. He loved the patterns the brown, orange and white made on their faces and backs, and this kitten's dress was backless. Probably a bad idea on a day such as this when the UV rating was so high, he thought idly. But the opening in the back went from below her shoulders down almost as low as her tail, and he liked that too. She came to this playground every day around one o'clock and played for an hour or so before wandering off down the trail through the woods. Always the same trail. Always alone.

The playground had several features that Randal liked, and the fact that a band of forest separated it from nearby neighbourhoods was just one of them. It was designed for the amusement of younger kits, cubs and pups, so not many adolescents hung out here. It had no benches, so adults without children there did not linger. And there was a coffee shop across the street, a busy one with window seats facing the park, where a parent, or Randal, could sit and sip coffee for hours while the little ones played.

Randle was an ordinary looking, mixed long hair cat and he looked about as dangerous as a pillow. He knew every playground in the city. He had checked them all out after it became too dangerous to find the satisfaction he craved on the internet. Randal had compiled a list of those most suitable for watching, waiting and taking, and he had started watching this one steadily after the satisfaction of his last episode had worn off. He had taken three kittens in the year since assembling the list. Today he would make it four.

After watching the calico play for thirty minutes Randal got up from his seat and collected his trash. The coffee shop staff would have taken it but he wanted to drop it in the big public receptacle outside, which was emptied each day at three, long before any alert would be issued, he hoped. After wiping the outside of his paper cup and dumping it he turned away from the park, to follow the street that ran along the woods. There was a trail about two hundred metres up, around a bend and out of sight of the coffee shop and the park itself.

The trail wound through the middle of the woods, intersected here and there by paths that cut across the forest. The second such path was the one the calico kitten took everyday, and there was a blind spot on that path that Randle made for.

He had waited just over twenty minutes, ears cocked to catch the sound of anyone coming, when he heard a light step on the gravel and a small voice singing "la la la dah dah, la la la dum dum" over and over. He got into position.

Out of the corner of his eye he confirmed that the creature coming around the tight bend in the trail was the calico, and she was alone. He could not hear anyone else approaching. He was bent over double, and now he backed up slightly, until he was blocking a narrow spot in the path.

The Kitten almost bumped into him, she was so involved in her song, but she stopped just in time. Randal ignored her.

"Scuse me mister." The little female said after waiting a moment for him to notice her.

"What? Sorry?" Randal said, pretending not to see her standing there.

"You are in the path." She explained patiently. "I have to get home before mommy does and you are in the path."

"I'm sorry," Randal said, swivelling around to face her, but still blocking the trail, "but I dropped one of the glass ponies I was bringing to the hospital for the sick children. It was the best one, and I have to find it before someone steps on it." He held out his paw and shoved the kitten a number of beautiful miniature crystal ponies. The characters were from a television show most popular with pre-adolescent females at the moment. As anticipated, the little one gasped in wonder.

"If you help me find it, maybe you can have one, as a reward."

"Sure mister." She said enthusiastically, slipping off her backpack. "Where did you drop it?" She started looking around eagerly.

"Just on the edge of the trail here." He pointed. "Maybe it rolled down the hill into that hollow." Randal had already hidden a hockey bag down there, one big enough to hold a gangly twelve-year old, once they were limp and foldable that is. A seldom used path lead from the hollow to a residential street. Randal's car, an older Cadillac with a huge trunk, was parked there. As the kitten ventured near the edge he reached into the deep pocket of his windbreaker and opened the sealed bag with the chloroform-soaked cloth inside. He tensed as she took a tentative step off the trail.

"Gee, I dunno. It looks pretty steep and messy down there." The kitten said uncertainly.

"It probably did not roll far. We'll only go down a little ways. Let me hold the back of your dress so you don't slip." Randal slid up behind her to clutch the band of material that held the sun dress together above her tail while he brought his other paw up and around with the chloroform. He could not help pressing his groin against her bottom as he did it.

He frowned. They were hard, her buttocks, devoid of the fat that most young ones have there. And now that he was so close, he could see that she did not have the skinny, toneless arms of a child. In fact, her muscles were quite well defined, like a flyweight boxer pumped for action.

"Wha ..." was all that Randle managed to get out as his victim spun to face him.

The chemical-soaked rag dropped from his paw as a blow to his arm made it go numb. The fist that had struck it met his face on its return journey, snapping his head back between his shoulder blades. His paws came up instinctively to cradle his bleeding snout, leaving his belly open for a foot that sank in quite a ways before he flew off it and into the trees opposite. As he rebounded off a springy sapling she hooked his ankle with her own and Randal crashed to the pathway, all the breath driven from him.

She was on his back in an instant, pulling his arms behind him and clamping cold hard metal bands around his wrists. She reached for her backpack and pulled out a small radio transceiver and a large pistol. She put the radio to her muzzle and the muzzle of the gun to Randal's temple. When she spoke her voice was deeper, rougher.

"Johnson? Turner here. I got one. Just where we figured. Yeah, I'll wait for you."

The cat, not a kitten he realized now, put the radio down but kept the gun pressed against Randal's head. She addressed him again.

"Give me an excuse to pull the trigger, tailhole. Save yourself the humiliation of a trial."

Randal started to cry.

* * * * * * * * *

Detective Constable Chloe Turner was one of the most unlikely officer's on the national police force, where the average officer was tall, muscular, male, and canine. She was an albino feline with white, almost translucent fur and light pink eyes. She was exactly one hundred and ten centimetres tall, less than four feet as her American friends would say. She weighed barely 45 kilograms, or 100 pounds, and had a slim build. But the Species Rights Commission, or SEC, had removed all physical and religious restrictions from employment on the force. All one had to do was pass the aptitude tests, the basic course, and the paw-to-paw combat test. And while Chloe was small, she could kick some serious butt.

She had wanted to be a firefighter since kittenhood, and had trained hard despite a genetic condition that had stunted her growth as well as removing all pigmentation. But the fire department had instituted minimum skills tests that included carrying a coil of hose twice her size up four flights of stairs and carrying a large victim down an extended ladder. Such standards were deemed legal by the SEC, since most of the Commissioners on the panel were old, obese and lived in tall buildings. Chloe had to abandon her dream, and went to college without any idea of where her life was going.

A close call with a drunken frat dog with a thing for petite felines gave her new purpose. She had been able to stop him while he fumbled with his cock through the fly of his trousers but it had been a near thing. The worst part was that he was back on campus the next day, having been released on his own recognisance by a judge that obviously thought she was overreacting. During the course of the investigation she had felt more like a criminal than a victim, and in the end he walked away with three months probation on reduced charges. He would not even be registered as a sex offender, all because she had stopped him too soon and because the cops don't really trust victim's statements.

However, they do trust one of their own, she realized after watching them closely during the interviews.

Chloe was determined to take as many perverts, wife beaters, and abusive males as possible off the streets. But she knew that she had to get on the inside of the justice system to do so. The day after her assaulter walked she started researching policing as an occupation, and intensified her training regime.

Since sexual assault and child molestation were crimes that transcended jurisdictions she determined that joining the national police would put her in the best position to fight these particular crimes. They ran the national Child Protection Task Force and were consulted on almost all other crimes with a sexual or violent aspect.

It had not been easy, making it onto the national force. Their physical and academic standards were high, and they turned down many excellent candidates just because the applicants always outnumbered the available positions by a factor of ten to one. Chloe was fortunate that her condition qualified her for special hiring consideration, but if they expected to have a showpiece handicapped officer filing papers in the headquarters they were sorely mistaken. She had made it clear once she was hired that she intended to attend the recruit training without special accommodations for her size, and to graduate at the top of the class.

Her skill and determination saw her through. By the end of the course she was in a position to have her pick of assignments, if she could defeat the partner they choose for her in the combat test. The fellow student they picked was from another class, the biggest student in the school and one of the best bare-paw fighters, but unfamiliar with the feisty feline. He had the misfortune to underestimate her and would now walk with a limp for the rest of his life. The force had given him a clerical job in the headquarters as partial compensation.

Chloe considered the ten years since graduating to have been a success. She had personally arrested twelve major offenders in that time and dozens of run-of-the-mill perverts. If this fellow who tried to take her on the trail turned out to be the serial rapist and murder of three kittens they were after it would be the biggest bust of her career, so far.

The perpetrator was crying quietly as he lay snout down on the path; a sure sign of guilt in her mind. She straightened up, but kept her gun pointed at his head. If he went for her she did not want to bother with any of that 'shoot for the centre of mass' business. She would save the taxpayer's the expense of taking care of him for the rest of his life. But only if he went for her; she was not a murderer, after all.

Heavy footfall and laboured breathing announced the arrival of her partner, Carl Johnson. He was an older rottweiler that had seen slimmer days, but he was dependable, a good backup officer. Chloe owed him at least two lives for arriving just in the nick of time when things got out of control with some of the more violent offenders.

The big dog skidded to a stop, his gun out and ready, as it always was until he personally determined what the situation was.

"Is he okay?" He said as he looked down at the suspect. "Has he resisted arrest yet?" Chloe noticed that the crying cat was paying enough attention to flinch at the reference to police brutality. He expected to be treated roughly; another sign of guilt.

"Not yet, too many folks around. Wait 'til I get him back to the station." She smiled inwardly when the cat cringed at that statement.

"Backup and forensics are on their way." Carl told her.

"Okay. That cloth over there needs to be bagged before whatever he soaked it in evaporates, and be careful not to step on any of the ponies." She pointed out the glass figures scattered on the trail.

"They found a pony similar to those at the scene of the second kidnapping." Carl reminded her. He need not have, she had every detail of every case in this file memorized. Along with those from dozens of possibly related attacks.

Chloe ran her paw across her face. It came back orange, her makeup was running. That was a bummer, it was supposed to last all day. But it was unusually hot and humid out, and wrestling the larger cat to the ground had caused her to sweat. Still, she would have to check the formulation more carefully the next time.

Being an albino midget had its advantages when you were trolling for child molesters. She had spent months studying the art of makeup with the national theatre troupe. She could apply dyes to create any markings she wanted. Coloured lenses for her eyes and a tight bra to flatten her chest even further completed the image. If the pervert preferred Siamese she could be a seal-point, chocolate point, or lilac point on demand. If he liked Persians she could add hair extensions and a prosthetic to make her face look flatter.

Looking exactly like what the perpetrator liked was only half the battle. To be an effective decoy she had to lure him to her before he struck at anyone else. She had to fake him into believing that she was what he wanted, needed even. There were many ways of moving, habits, and attitudes that one loses as they grow up. Chloe had to relearn them. Hanging out with the actors taught her how to assume an air of innocence, vulnerability, or submissiveness; whatever the profilers said would attract that particular perp. Now imitating pre-teens was easy, male felines were effortless, and she could even do a convincing Chihuahua or West Highland terrier.

She had mixed the dyes for this assignment herself, applying the calico pattern meticulously each morning and washing it off each night. The profiler's had determined that calico was this predator's favourite. During the day she spent an hour in each of the parks the pattern analysis guys thought would meet his criteria. Then she established a pattern of her own, that of a playful little unescorted kitten, an easy target.

It wasn't easy work by any means. She had to get up at dawn to apply the makeup and spend ten to twelve hours a day playing like a kitten out under the brutal sun before going back home to spend another two hours washing the dye out. Not only was it exhausting, it was dangerous. Albinos don't tan in the sun; they burn, develop skin cancer, and die. She had to be very careful. She had to apply a heavy sun screen to whatever bits of fur were not coloured.

Chloe kept her gun on the perv while Carl did the initial work to secure the scene. Chain of evidence was very important to getting a conviction, and he was good at handling the physical artefacts. He often said that he would join forensics when he got too old to be on the Child Protection Squad. He was barely finished by the time the real evidence technicians showed up. It was a high priority case and a team had been on standby, awaiting their call. They actually beat the backup to the scene.

"I've got a good feeling about this." Carl told her as the forensic team took over from him. "Everything fits what we know about the guy who killed the three kittens. Let's make the official arrest now and get the warrants we need for his vehicle and premises." The law allowed them to bring a suspect into detention for up to forty-eight hours before arresting them. Usually they used that time to amass as much evidence as they could to support an arraignment, occasionally proving someone innocent in the process and releasing them. But in some cases it was better to move fast, and with the press breathing down the Chief's neck on this one he wanted to announce an arrest as soon as possible.

"Okay." Chloe agreed after a moments thought. Carl passed a small plastic coated card to her. It was their understanding that Chloe was the arresting officer of record whenever a predator went for her decoy act and she took him down. Carl would get the credit for those arrests where he had to step in and save her ass. Chloe read from the card, advising the scum of his right to legal counsel and warning him that anything he said could be used in court. She passed the card back.

"I'm going to head to the station to clean up." She told Carl. "Keep Romeo here in seclusion until I'm ready to talk to him. And page that psychologist, what's his name ... Doctor Gordon, and see if he can observe the initial interview."

"Sure thing Chloe. See you back there."

* * * * * * * * *

The predator had been stalking the capitol, the Child Protection squad's home turf, so the team was working out of their own offices in the national headquarters building. That was an advantage for most, as their files and computers were always available and there was no connection delay like when they used the remote set up. But there was one big drawback for Chloe - the showers.

The headquarters buildings were old, built before the force was integrated and diversified. That meant too few female washrooms and shower facilities. In fact, they had simply dived the change room and showers in two by building cinderblock walls. The females had to walk past the males change room to get to the showers and 'accidents' frequently happened, sometimes intentionally. Some of the females thought that they had to tolerate the occasional penile exposures to prove that they were part of the pack. Other's felt that that every glimpse, no matter how accidental, was a personal affront. A few, like Chloe's friend Erica, thought that the males efforts to show off were hilarious, and her scything comments were responsible for more deflation than the poor economy.

Erica was a busty tan coyote originally from out west. She was the team's administrative support assistant, which meant that she did all of the odd jobs like renting cars and booking hotels when they worked away, ordering paper and toner, filing reports and processing claims. She had also taken on the job of helping Chloe, the only other female permanently assigned to the team, when she needed to wash the dye and theatrical glue out of her fur. It was necessary to have a second set of eyes because there were no mirrors in the shower room and no sinks in the change room to scrub up at.

She knew the routine. Having heard that Chloe had made an arrest, Erica was standing by with soap, shampoo and brushes. As soon as Chloe checked in they were on their way down to the change room, followed by calls of congratulations on the bust. Chloe acknowledged them only half-heartedly. The physical and mental pressure of the past week was weighing heavily on her.

"Cheer up!" Erica demanded. "You're the star today."

"Everybody loves you when you are on top. Wait until next week when the case load catches up with us again." Chloe said wearily.

"Then you need to take advantage of their euphoria while it lasts. Ask for a promotion, get a bigger office, let the cuter ones take you out to diner. Get laid." Erica put a lot of emphasis on the last two words. In her opinion a girl could not survive without having the plumbing reamed regularly. She could not understand how Chloe could go for years between individual episodes.

Chloe ignored her, as usual. It was not that she disagreed with Erica's outlook as much as she resented the attitude of most of the males she knew. They treated her like a charity case, and another tick in the sexual conquest box: red haired, check; fat broad, check; Boss's Wife, check; Boss's daughter, check; Erica, check, check, check; albino midget .... opps, no Bingo yet.

It was difficult to get away from the cop bars, where she was at least known and allowed in. She was carded everywhere else and even then often denied entrance because the bouncers thought that her ID was fake. The places that let her in anyways were crawling with under aged drinkers and those that preyed on them. The kind of people she arrested everyday. So Chloe did what little drinking she did at home and entertained herself with a few devices she had acquired over the years.

But Erica did not give up easily. In fact she never gave up. She believed that a constant stream of encouragement would erode all resistance.

"There is some new talent over on the male side of the cinder block." She commented as she helped Chloe out of her kitten costume. "A big young German shepherd that just got transferred into the sex crimes division. He's on loan from the local cops. The admin assistant there tells me that he is straight, unattached, gentle, and very easy on the eyes."

"He'll be taken before noon tomorrow." Chloe predicted as she wrapped her towel around her and headed out to the shower room. Females outnumbered males in the headquarters, and a good looking guy did not go lonely for long.

"I don't know about that." Erica said as she followed with the cleaning equipment. "A few of the more impressive and aggressive broads have already tried for him but he doesn't seem interested in the standard types. Who knows, maybe he wants someone he can cuddle on his lap?"

"He's a dog. I'm a cat, if you hadn't noticed."

"I'm not talking about settling down and raising a family here Hon. I'm just suggesting a little practice before the main event. Besides, you have not lived until you've been knotted."

"Euwgh! That's disgusting. That weird bulge inside you. How can you stand that?"

"Oh? Like those spiky tiger cocks are normal? They feel like a blowfish has gone off inside you."

"How would you know?"

"I get around." It was true, Erica was not a specieist when it came to sex. She would yiff a snake if it would hold still long enough. "You should too. Have a little fun."

Just them, as they passed the entrance to the male's change room, someone shouted Chloe's name. Both females looked at the open entrance to see a group of male canines gathered there. They were wet and wrapped in towels too, obviously just back from the shower themselves.

"Hey Chloe! How far you let him get this time? Alla way?" One of the dogs laughed.

"Turner, lend me ten until payday," another called, "I'm a little short. Opps, forget it, looks like you are too!"

"Don't mind them Chloe." A third shouted. "They're just Kitten." The first two groaned.

Erica had opened her mouth to retort but Chloe tuned her out. Standing behind the three offensive canines was a fourth dog. He was taller than the rest, more muscular, better toned. A young German shepherd. Chloe was certain that it was the one Erica had mentioned. The dog was staring at her in open-mouthed wonder, without a hint of malice or juvenile mirth on his face, unlike his companions. Chloe could not take her eyes off him.

"Ho ho!" The first dog cried, glancing back and forth between the two. "Looks like Chloe found something she likes. Here Chloe, take a real good look." With that the older dog pulled the towel off his younger companion and stepped aside. The other funny guys cleared the doorway too.

The young dog stood frozen, naked, staring at her with his teeth and fists clenched in embarrassment.

It was probably only a second or two but it felt like minutes were passing to Chloe. The fur on his chest, belly and inner thighs was a light tan, darkening on the flanks. It was wet and stuck to him, outlining every muscle the anatomy books had ever listed. His chest was broad and his stomach was flat, tapering down to ....My God! Look at the size of his sheath, she marvelled, and his sac, like a pocket on a pool table with a couple of balls inside. How much spooge could they hold? She felt eyes on the back of her head and she looked away. Erica was smiling down on her.

Glancing away for an instant was enough to break the spell. The dog spun around, giving her a brief glimpse of rock-hard glutes, grabbed his towel back and wrapped it around his hips. But he did not run into the change room, he stayed in the doorway, watching her from the corner of his eye. Chloe took a shaky step while looking back over her shoulder. Realizing what she was doing she stared down at the tiles and beat a hasty retreat to the showers.

Chloe was unusually quiet in the shower. She imagined that the brush that was drawing the dye from her fur was the shepherd's paws, combing her fur, teasing her. Chloe felt a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. Her nipples stood out from her small breasts, hard and defiant. Parts of her ached to be touched that she dared not touch, not in front of Erica anyway.

Erica just hummed a little tune as she scrubbed her friend's back and laughed occasionally to herself.

* * * * * * * * *

In the following weeks Chloe did not try to avoid the shepherd, but she did not seek him out either. She did not have time; another big case had come up on the heels of the child killer's arrest.

She did see him in the hallways occasionally. Their units often worked closely together since Child Protection's highest priority was sexual crimes against children. His name was Brian, Brian Grant, she learned. He had managed to find out her name too because when they did pass in the hall he would smile and say "Good morning Chloe." She would smile back and say "Morning Brian." She longed to add "How they hanging?" but flushed at the very thought of being so bold.

But little gifts started appearing at her desk, in her mail slot, an on the hood of her car. Nothing expensive, just little things really, unique and of good quality. A purple rose, a hue she had never seen before. A bottle of the lilac scented shampoo that was so hard to find. A scarf with the autumn colours she liked. An embroidered Chinese box, just the right size for storing her earrings. Thoughtful gifts. She suspected that Erica was coaching him. Who else knew her well enough to know what she liked?

She did not know what case he was working on, but he worked long and hard hours, often returning in the middle of the night after combing the streets for wanted creatures, according to Erica's friend. She considered using work as an excuse to start a conversation, but there was a problem there. The case she was assigned to was hush-hush, need-to-know only. She would feel stupid asking him about his case and then have to brush him off when he asked about hers in return. Erica said that she was just making excuses, that she was just afraid that he would ask her out; or that he wouldn't. She had given Chloe one more week to find an occasion to talk to the dog or she would take the matter into her own paws.

"Don't make me invite the two of you to a bowling foursome." She threatened.

It looked like she would not have too. Chloe's case was coming to a head and would be wrapped up soon.

They had managed to infiltrate a child prostitution ring. One of the clients had been arrested in another jurisdiction and had offered to provide the police with all the information he had on several such rings in return for a reduced sentence. One of the 'services' he used was located right here in the capitol, and the team was poised to step in and nab all the pimps, their computers, phones and records, and to take the under aged hookers into protective custody. The next step was to keep the lines of communication open so they could round up a few Johns.

They were a closed and clannish bunch, the child predators. As soon as word of the arrests got out they would scatter like cockroaches, but they expected to get at least one before they were warned. If that one would give evidence in exchange for a lesser sentence then they could roll up another few rings, and get more Johns on the sex offender registry. They would continue like that until they had cleared up as much as they could, and then move on to other priorities. New rings would crop up, and eventually someone would rat on them and the cycle would start up again.

Of course, in order to get a good solid case, they needed proof that the John intended to have sex with a minor, or someone he thought was a minor. That is where Chloe came in. She would be the decoy, sent in to get them to show the money and state their intentions for the microphone hidden in her clothing.

It was a dangerous assignment. The John might ask to frisk her, or demand that she strip before handing over the cash or a credit card. She could try to bluff him out by demanding the same from him. Things could get physical. If the guy suspected she was a cop he might go wild, desperate, ready to do anything to escape. That's why Carl was always close by and monitoring the radio transmissions from the live microphone.

They had established a series of innocent sounding code words. She would call the John "Honey" if he was acting suspicious, and Carl would move in closer. She would call him "Daddy" to indicate that there was enough evidence in sight to make an arrest. The term "Sugar" was reserved for emergencies, when she wanted Carl to burst in immediately, as in "Get your paws off me Sugar" or "Why you got a gun Sugar?" They had other words. One to let Carl know that all was going well and to hold off, and one to call off the operation on the rare occasion they had made a mistake.

Earlier that day an email had arrived at the account the ring was using. Someone wanted a pure white kitten, as young as they had. There was a note that she should dress in a school girl's uniform. They had provided the address of a motel in the east end that was famous for booking rooms by the hour. The arrival time was to be ten pm. Payment would be by credit card, the number to be confirmed by the girl on arrival.

"This will be an easy one." She told Carl. "Coloured contacts, the corset, a plaid skirt, white blouse, knee socks and black shoes should do the trick. No makeup required. It's made to order."

"What colour of lenses?" He asked

"Give me the light blue ones; they make me look more innocent."

Erica helped Chloe into her corset. She added a pair of plain cotton panties to flash at the John should he need distracting. Then Carl attached the recorder and transmitter. A bow on the back of the skirt, just above the tail, would cover the bulge. The microphones had been built into the corset, so there would be no chance of a wire slipping and becoming visible. He did a sound check to make sure that it was working properly. After she pulled on the rest of her costume Carl turned on the receiver and asked her for a second sound check.

"Oh, come on Carl. You just tested it." She complained, but she did it with the microphone on. Her life depended on this equipment, and Carl took that responsibility seriously. His preparations were meticulous.

"Okay." He said after confirming that the recorder and transmitter were working fine. "Now let's go over the code words one more time before you head out."

* * * * * * * * *

Carl dropped her off at the motel in a black car with shaded windows from the force's collection of confiscated vehicles. It fit the scenario because she was supposed to be too young to drive herself.

"You be careful in there." Carl warned her, as he did each and every time.

"You know it." She replied coolly, as usual. But her guts were tied into knots, and would stay that way until she got immersed in her act. She popped a wad of chewing gum into her mouth.

Chloe stepped up to the door and tapped softly, dropping her shoulders and bowing her head into a submissive position, getting into character.

"Come in." A muffled voice called. Chloe opened the unlocked door and stepped inside. The john was not visible, but there were moving shadows in the bathroom showing where he was. She closed the door behind her, but slipped the wad of gum into the hole in the plate so that the latch would not catch. It would make it easier for Carl to break the door down if he had to. The hum of a blow dryer came from the bathroom.

"I'll be out in a second. Make yourself comfortable." His voice modulated through the whining appliance. He sounded big, a wolf maybe. Chloe hoped not; wolves were bad news. And there was a full moon tonight. Some said that it was an old wives tale, but every time she had seen a wolf gone bug-shit crazy there had been a full moon out.

Chloe looked around the room. She was surprised at how nicely decorated and furnished it was. The lights were dimmed, the bed was turned down, and there was half a dozen condoms scattered on the bedside table. Ambitious bugger, she thought disdainfully. She thought about the damage a big hairy beast like a timber wolf could do to a real kitten. It was going to be a pleasure brining him in.

The condoms were enough to arrest him on and probably enough to get a warrant to search his vehicle and premises, but not quite good enough for a sure conviction. Chloe wanted to see if she could get him to describe the sex acts he wanted and pass her the credit card. Then they would have him.

Chloe remained standing because that gave her the most room to manoeuvre. If she sat on the couch or the bed the pervert could pin her down. Her paw-to-paw combat skills were good, but there was not much you could do when someone three times your weight was on top of you. She struck a meek yet provocative pose, with her head down and her arms behind her back but with one leg cocked to show a little thigh. She hoped that he would not be much longer, her other leg would cramp if she held this position too long.

The sound of footsteps approaching on tile disappeared as the John stepped out of the bathroom and onto the carpet. It was replaced with a loud gasp of surprise. Chloe had drawn sighs of contentment, moans of desire, and even squeals of delight with her decoy act, but a gasp like that was a new one. She looked up to see why he had reacted so, and her breath was driven from her also. Brian Grant was standing there in boxer shorts and a tee shirt, his maw hanging open in shock.

"You!" She gasped, recovering her senses first. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." The big German shepherd said, anger replacing shock. "I'm working with the city vice squad. They got wind of an escort service that might be using unwilling hookers, making them pretend to be underage. I was the decoy, to get them in, to check them out. Give them a chance to break away in exchange for info on the pimps."

"Why are you in your underwear?" There were provisions against removing your clothes during an investigation. Defence lawyers would have a field day, claiming that the cop took a little piece before making the arrest.

"It's less revealing than a bathing suit, and the superior court ruled that it wasn't entrapment to appear in them as long as you keep them on. Why are you dressed like a school girl?"

"You asked for it."

"I just used the email of a paedophile who blew town before we could nab him. The agency must have had his preference on file. I had no idea who or what was going to show up."

Chloe began to wonder what Carl was thinking of this conversation when she heard three blasts from the car's distinctive horn. The signal meant "I've heard nothing, are you okay?" If she did not respond within a minute Carl would come bursting in through the door.

"Do you have a signal suppressor in here?" She asked suspiciously.

"Sure. In case they used a live cell phone to listen in on the girl." Chloe had heard of the technique. Any cell phone could be turned into a monitor. It was usually done to protect the girls and to make sure they didn't solicit a little extra on the side.

"Hang on a second." Chloe opened the door and stepped outside. Brian followed her as far as the door but kept out of sight inside. "Carl, you hear me, honey?" Lights flashed twice from the parking lot across the street. "Looks like we have run across a parallel investigation. Yeah, city vice, Brian Grant. The word will be out now, no more Johns will be calling this agency. Can you call Inspector O'Malley and tell him we're shutting down? Thanks. I'm going to coordinate my report with the officer here and make my own way home. You have a good night big fella. Say 'Hi' to the missus for me. Bye" Chloe turned and re-entered the room.

"I called off my backup team too." Grant said. He held up a simple pulse generator that would work despite the suppressors. You could send simple Morse code messages with it. "You think the city cops are infiltrated?" The big Shepard asked as she removed the gum from the lock and looked around for a garbage can.

"Yeah. That's why we try to keep the high profile cases like this one separate. Someone will have tipped off the clientele by now. Unfortunate that you stumbled across the real thing just as we were mounting our operation." She stood in the middle of the room and did a full circle, taking everything in as she spoke. When she was done she was facing Brian again, her blue-tinted eyes locked onto his brown ones.

"So what happens now?" Brian asked.

"We file a report blaming the city for blowing the operation. They file a report blaming us. Including you and me maybe four people will ever know what really happened. The reports rot in their respective filing systems and life goes on." She shrugged. "You book the room for the whole night?" She asked, innocently.

"Yeah, we were expecting to interview a half dozen over the course of the evening but if the ring is down there's no sense calling for any more." He cocked his head to one side, intrigued by her question. "Why do you ask?"

Chloe let her eyes drift south, over the bulging pecs, across the rock-hard abs, to where the fly on his boxers was secured with a single button. Then she returned her gaze to his eyes. She ran a paw through the fur on her head, brought it along the nape of her neck and let it trail down the exposed fur to the top button of the white blouse. Her digits toyed with the button.

"It really is a nice room. It would be a shame to waste it."

"Yeah." He replied, swallowing hard. "And I've got the rest of the night to kill."

"Me too." She slipped the top bottom from its hole.

"Did you bring a deck of cards?" He asked, a nervous tremor had come into his voice.

"No." she slipped the second button free and took a step toward him.

"A little light reading?" A trickle of sweat ran down his brow.

"No." The third, and last, button sprang free. Chloe pulled the blouse free from the skirt as she stepped up against the big dog. She had to look straight up to keep eye contact. She felt something move against her.

"Cross ... crossword puzz ... puzzles?"

Chloe did not bother answering. Instead, she reached up behind her and undid the hooks holding the tight corset closed. Keeping her body pressed against his she slipped it out from between them. Yes, there was definitely something stirring inside those boxers.

"Looks like I've got nothing to amuse myself with." She said, and then glanced meaningfully at the pile of condoms on the table. "But I'm sure something will pop up."

Chloe stepped back away from him, but just far enough to get her paws on his shorts. She deftly undid the single button holding the fly closed and slid one tiny paw inside. She ran one digit up along the side of his sheath. It trembled, and seemed to swell. She reached in and down with the other paw and filled her palm with one of his enormous balls. She caressed it gently, staring up into his deep drown eyes. Something smooth, hot, and slick started to fill her first paw.

Brian's mouth was hanging open again. It wasn't the most inspiring sight. Chloe looked down to where her arms disappeared inside his shorts. Not very impressive either. She grasped the protrusion she had felt and pulled it out.

Now that's impressive, she marvelled. She was not an expert, but this one compared favourably with the ones Erica had described to her. It was long, thick, hard, and it was still growing. She stroked it slowly to encourage it. She pulled her other paw out, and the testicle it held. The other ball caught on the edge of the fly, and she had to jiggle them to get it out. Brian seemed to like that.

He should have looked funny, she thought, standing there with his balls hanging out and his meat stick poking up, but he didn't. His cock was just too big, his sac too smooth, and the legs below the edge of the shorts too muscular to look ridiculous. She leaned down, just a little bit was all that was necessary, and took the tip of his cock in her mouth.

Chloe ran the smooth underside of her tongue around it and felt his balls contract in her paw. She tried the rough side, and now his whole body was trembling. It tasted slightly salty. She released it and examined it. A few drops of milky fluid appeared at the opening. She sucked them off. Brian groaned and his knees almost buckled. Chloe licked her to moisten them and plunged her head down, taking most of the shaft into her mouth.

She closed her eyes and pulled back, sucking hard as her head rose. She let it drop again, until the tip brushed against the back of her throat. Then she repeated the cycle. She held on to the base of his cock with one paw while she rubbed his balls with the other. She felt Brian's paws on her shoulders, steadying her. She continued to suck and slide his cock in and out of her mouth until his hips started to sway in time with her motion.

Chloe stopped sucking and looked up again. Brian was staring down at her, his eyes slightly unfocused, his lips moving as if he was speaking.

"What are you saying?" she asked, squeezing his cock as her paw slid lazily up and down the shaft. "Tell me."

"My dirty little kitty." He said hesitatingly.

Chloe froze for an instant. The little kitty comment had struck too close to home. But Erica had mentioned that a lot of the guys she knew liked a little dirty talk in bed, said that it drove them wild. And with the prospect of the prick in her paws going wild inside her in mind, Chloe decided to play along. It was only an act, after all.

"Yes. I'm your dirty little kitty. Your bad little girl." She stroked him faster and harder. "What are you going to do to your little slut?"

"I'm going to yiff you. Give you what you deserve. Drive you like a cheap car, you dirty, dirty little whore."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" She released his cock and took a step back toward the bed.

Brian pulled off his tee shirt and tossed it on the floor. He grabbed the waistband of his shorts and pulled them off, quickly but carefully. He threw himself at Chloe, drove her down on the bed, his mouth already clamped over hers.

It was a little awkward at first with him being so tall and her so small. When they were face-to-face she could not reach the cock she longed for. When she slid down to caress it her face was in the middle of his torso. But Brian seemed to know what he wanted and he soon took charge.

He laid her on her back with her head between the pillows. He did not remove her blouse, but he pulled it apart to expose her small breasts. He kissed them, teased the nipples into hardness with the tip of his tongue, and mashed them flat against her ribcage with his paws. He left the plaid skirt alone too, but his paw was under it in a flash, rubbing her twat through a thin layer of cotton that was rapidly becoming sodden.

After mashing mouths and trading tongues he inched his way down the bed. He kissed the nape of her neck, nuzzled her throat, and breathed softly on the fine hairs on her breasts. He sucked at her nipples, licked them, and kissed the line where the underside of her breast met her chest. Down across her abdomen he went, his paws breaking trail for his questing lips and tongue. It dove into her navel, it traced the ridge of white fur that led from there to her nether regions, it approached the top of her vagina ... and veered off along the line formed by the top of her thigh, to continue on down her leg until he was sucking on her calf just above her knee socks.

His paws had come back up meanwhile, and had found her moist opening. One thumb was making lazy circles around her clit while the other was buried deep inside her. God, his digits are almost as big as ... she lost the thought as he found the spot inside her that so few had found before. Her breath came faster as he rubbed the pad of his thumb against it. The other digit flew to his mouth to pick up a load of lubricating saliva before returning to her clit. The circles became smaller, faster, and pressed harder as he centred on her clit.

Chloe though that she would come there and then, but Brian had other plans. His lips had been working their way back up her leg toward the main action and he pulled his digit out of her as his lips met those of her vagina. His tongue took over on her clit, flicking back and forth for a while, returning to circle it on occasion. Now and then he sealed his lips around it and sucked the knob of hard flesh in, tickling it all the time with the pointy tip of his tongue. When he lapped and sucked on her clit he plunged one of his digits into her. When he licked and slurped at her vagina he pulled it out, dripping wet, and teased her tailhole with it.

"Are you my dirty little slut?" He gasped when he came up for air.

"Yes! I'm your dirty kitty."

"Do you want Daddy's big cock, you little whore?"

"Oh yeah, Daddy. Give it to me. Give your slut her yiffing."

"Where do you want it?" He asked, and as he did he sunk his soaked digit into her ass up to the first knuckle. The sudden stretch of her tailhole ring almost made her swoon.

"Give it to me up the ass Daddy. Pound me like a tent peg."

"Ha!" He cried and pulled his digit out of her just as suddenly as he had put it in. "I'll decide who get what and where. You'll take it and you'll like it, won't you? Tell me!"

"I'll take it Daddy." She breathed, meaning every word. "I'll take that big cock wherever you stick it and all of the spooge you can shoot with it."

Chloe was on her back, propped up on her elbows. Her blouse was open to expose rock-hard nipples and her skirt was up around her waist. Her legs were bent, spread apart to expose a gaping, aching pink hole with a button of quivering flesh mounted on its rim. Her dark socks and shoes stood out in contrast with the white of her fur and the sheets. Brian knelt between her legs, his cock standing up in front of his abdomen, hard and red and throbbing with purpose. Suddenly an intense look came over his face, and his hips thrust forward. Chloe looked down to see what was happening.

Most of his cock was out of his sheath, but a large bulge remained covered in soft skin and velvety fur. It seemed that it was too big to pass through the opening, but it looked like it was trying. It started to appear, a red knob at the base of his cock, slowly growing bigger like the head of a baby being born. He grunted through grit teeth as the widest part passed through, and then it was all out, the opening of his sheath sealed around the true base of his prick, below the infamous knot.

"Ahhhh." He sighed now that it was out. "You really drive me wild, my little slut. The knot doesn't come out for everyone."

Chloe had heard about this canine trait from Erica. About the difference between the watery spooge delivered through casual, knot-less sex and the thick, hot, sperm-laden ejaculate brought out only when two dogs were linked together on the knot. It was the only true orgasm, she claimed, and inevitably drifted off on erotic memories at that point. But looking at his fully exposed cock, and the size of the knot at its base, gave Chloe second thoughts. Then she saw his balls hanging down in the wide gap between his tight thighs. Had they gotten bigger, swelled up since they started?

She did not have time to change her mind. Brian dropped down on his extended arms and rose up on his toes until he was directly above her. He plunged forward and down and the narrow tip of his cock found the opening in her slit unerringly. He did not pause to adjust or enjoy the heat, he continued his thrust until the knot at his base bumped up against the lips of her twat. It was hot, hotter than the rest of his cock, and it sent a thrill through her clit when it pressed against it.

Brian flexed his arms and rose up, pulling his cock straight up and out of her until only the tip remained inside. When he came down again the full length of his cock slid down her clit. He flexed and rose, relaxed and plunged, driving deeper into her each time.

Brian gave her a dozen deep thrusts and then paused at the top of his stroke. Leaning forward he worked his hips so that only the last inch or so of his cock rubbed up and down on her clit. Then he gave her another dozen deep ones. He continued to alternate, and she felt him inside and out as her clit and the pad of sensitive flesh deep inside her were excited in turn. She spread her legs as far as they would go and pinched his nipples to encourage him.

He was keeping a steady pace, almost effortlessly it seemed, but she was about to come. As if he sensed it, and perhaps with his canine sense of smell he did, he stopped suddenly at the extent of his arms and stared down at her.

"Who's your Daddy?" He asked softly.

"You're my Daddy." She tried to thrust her hips against him but he pulled back.

"Who's my little dirty kitten?"

"I am. I'm a bad, dirty, slutty kitten." She gasped.

"What do want from Daddy?" as he spoke he lowered and slid his cock in and up inside her, until the knot rested against her again. He twisted his hip so that it rubbed her clit.

"I want to be knotted, Daddy. I want your knot inside me, filling me."

He pulled back and out. He knelt at the bottom of the bed with his cock pointing straight up and his balls hanging straight down. "Then get on your paws and knees for Daddy. Lift your tail for me."

Chloe rolled over, peering over her shoulder to keep eye contact. Her slim tail twitched to and fro in anticipation as she raised her ass to him. His legs were so long that his cock still rose above her, was she going to have to get up on her toes to meet him?

Brian rubbed her pussy with one paw and grabbed her tail with the other. Pulling her up as high as she would go without actually lifting her knees off the bed he guided the tip of his cock to her steaming slit. When he slid it in half of her weight was supported by it. Brian pulled back and drove forward again, and again, and again, each time harder, each time deeper. His knot hit the wall of her pussy the first time and was driven back. The second time it made her stretch a bit before it retreated. The third time she felt like she was being split in two, but it withdrew like the tide.

Each time he drove the knot against her she opened a little wider. Each time he pulled away it took a little longer for the expanded hole to close. Each time his weight came down on her she was driven a little deeper into the soft mattress of the motel bed. And soon her shoulders were down by her paws, and her head was resting on the sheets.

Brian drew in a deep breath and shifted his hips. Chloe braced herself because she could sense something coming. He put a paw on each side of her ass and dug his digits in. She leaned as far forward as she could and prepared to push back against him. With a 'whoosh' of expelled air he thrust his hips hard north while pulling her due south. She assisted by pushing back against the mattress.

When his knot hit her this time it did not stop. It spread her, split her, opened her up like it was returning to the womb. For an agonizing second it stuck on the edge, and then it entered her, and her lips closed around its base like a flower closing for the night. Brian sighed. Chloe groaned.

It filled her, like nothing and no one had ever filled her before. Every square centimetre of sensitive skin, inside and out, was pressed against it, and his cock swelled her channel and bumped against her cervix. She could feel his blood racing through it. She felt every twitch and shake. She could feel him breathe.

He was trapped inside her, but he was not finished. Brian leaned down until his belly and chest lay along her back. He tucked his head in beside hers. He shifted his weight to his elbows and slid his paws between the mattress and her breasts, squeezing them hard. Then he began to jerk and twist his hips in short, sharp motions.

"Who's my kitten?"

"I'm your kitten." She felt like a kitten, butt up and shoulders down, her breasts squashed flat against his paws and the mattress. A kitten with a big dog behind her, his cock buried inside her. "I'm your kitten. I'm your dirty kitty. Oh, yiff me Daddy. Yiff me."

He could not move far, stuck as he was inside her, but with so much flesh in contact it multiplied the effect until she could not stand it anymore. She came with a yowl that the people across the street must have been able to hear. Her come had to force its way past his knot and soon she was squirting like a leaky fire hose. The extra warmth and lubrication helped him on his way and she felt a splash of hot fluid deep inside her. It filled her with warmth, and she found control over the muscles inside her at that moment. She used them to grip his cock tighter.

That set off a display of internal fireworks that she had never experienced before. Brian's hips started pumping uncontrollably like he was drilling for oil, and his rig produced a gusher. Her insides swelled as burst after burst of molten pleasure filled her twat. It filled her, and then it overflowed, leaking out around the base through pussy lips that were hard pressed to seal him tight. And still his hips bucked and twisted against her. She came a second time in as many minutes, and this time the orgasm did not stop after the flood was past.

Erica had said that a knotting could last up to thirty-five minutes. Chloe had not believed her. But she retained enough control to note the time on the bedside clock when Brian's knot had entered her. He was in her for almost five minutes when his true cum started to release. It was another ten before he stopped spurting altogether. Fluid just leaked out of him for the next few minutes until his spasms ultimately ceased. It was twenty five minutes exactly when she felt his knot start to deflate, relaseing her. She felt cheated out of ten minutes as he was finally able to pull his sagging penis from her.

He flopped to the bed on his back. His limp dick lay on his stomach. Chloe rolled over to tuck herself under his arm.

She was experiencing mixed emotions. He seemed so shy and sweet and first, but he had changed completely in bed, becoming domineering and demanding. Totally different from the guy who left all those thoughtful little gifts. But he was a decoy too, she recalled. Trained in the art of attraction through deception. A sweet attitude, a ripped body, a few nick-knacks and he had her eating out of his paw, so to speak. Chloe felt used, and disappointed in herself. However, the sensation of his knot inside her had been breathtaking, and she wanted more.

Chloe reached out to stroke his flaccid member. It twitched. I seemed that it was not dead yet.

"Ready for round two?" She asked, innocently.

"Gimme a minute, okay?" He begged, but she could feel the blood already rushing in under paw, and she smiled.

* * * * * * * * *

Much later, she lay on her side, naked, with his arms around her and her tiny butt pressed against his exhausted member. She clasped his paws in hers and purred contently, luxuriating in the warmth of his body and the satisfaction that the night's activities had brought her.

The phone in the room rang. Brian sat up, startled by the sound.

"It will be for me." Chloe said reaching for the phone on the table beside her. "I'm still on call and my partner would try the last place I had been if he couldn't contact me on the radio or at home." She put the receiver to her ear and said her name. She listened for a minute, grunting acknowledgement occasionally but not speaking. Finally she said "Give me fifteen minutes to get decent. Right see you. Bye." She hung up the phone.

"I got to get cleaned up." She said, turning back to the shepherd. "Something else has come up." She squeezed him playfully to reinforce the pun. Chloe jumped off the bed and headed for the bathroom.

"Who was that?" Brian asked. He stood up and pulled on his shorts and tee shirt.

"Carl, my partner. He's coming over in a few minutes." The sound of the ceiling fan in there and the shower drowned out anything she may have added. The water ran for only a few minutes, just enough time for a quick scrub of the important parts and a rinse. Through the door he saw her rubbing herself vigorously with a large fluffy towel. The howl of the blow dryer on high soon followed. Brian sat on the bed and waited for her to be done.

Chloe came out of the bathroom naked, her fur all puffed up like the head of a dandelion gone to seed. She combed it down with her claws as she crossed the room to where she had dropped her clothes. She started to dress, leaving the restraining corset aside. When she was done she stood in the idle of the room again, as she had earlier that evening, holding the corset behind her back and looking at him with a regretful expression.

"Carl is already outside, isn't he?" The younger officer asked.

"Yes." She admitted.

"What tipped you off?"

"When you said that you had used the email of a suspect that had fled the city. It sounded a lot like the guy arrested a few weeks back, the one we got the details of the ring from. When I talked to Carl outside I used a code word to let him know that something suspicious was going on, and another to indicate a possible bad cop involved. Inspector O'Malley was fired for extorting sex from the hookers he was supposed to be busting. It was before your time. Carl would infer enough to check the motel records. Turns out the room was booked in the same name as our source, using his cell phone and with his credit card. Carl contacted the police that have him in custody and had them pose a few questions. Seems that he left town because some cop shook him down. Took all of his credit cards, his phone and his little black book of kiddie pimps."

Chloe shook her head as the big dog started to stand and reach for the dresser, where the rest of his clothes and, presumably, his gun and badge, were located.

"Don't try it." She said, producing a small but powerful pistol from behind her back. It had been nestled beside the transmitter in her corset until recently. He settled back down on the bed. Chloe lowered the gun, but kept it pointed in his direction as she continued.

"Carl called the credit company and those cards have been used twice since the real owner was arrested. Both times at the agency we raided today. What are the odds that one or two of the girls we have in protective custody will be able to identify you as the John?" Her eyebrows went up inquisitively, but the dog did not deign to answer. "Anyway, the last step was to trace the source of the email sent to the agency. The administrator for your Internet Service Provider was not amused to be woken in the middle of the night with a discovery warrant staring him in the snout. But he did quick work, and when we examine your home computer I'm betting we'll find a copy of the same message in the 'sent' folder of your mail program."

The shepherd sat up suddenly. Chloe brought the pistol up automatically, but held her fire.

"Don't do this, Chloe. You'll go down with me. It's a serious offence to sleep with a suspect. If you arrest me now they'll find out what we did tonight and you'll be fired. There's a window in the bathroom that lets out on the alley out back. Let me go and they'll never know."

"Not a chance. We couldn't find any records of you from before you joined the force. The Internal Affairs guys think that you assumed a stolen identity and faked your transcripts to get in. If you could do that once you do it again in a new town, or a new country. I couldn't live knowing that you were out there, preying on kids while pretending to protect them. Until that phone call came you were just another cop, or so I'll claim. I'll take my chances at the inquiry."

Chloe expected him to slump in surrender, but the dog grew more agitated. "I can't go to jail. A guy on a child sex rap has it bad enough, but segregation is full of guys I helped put there while I was working vice. Everyone will want a piece of me. I'd rather end it now." He began to stand up.

"Sit back Grant." Chloe brought the gun back up until it was pointing at his chest. Aim for the centre of mass, that's what they taught at the police academy.

"Either kill me or let me go." He said, still rising. "Do something for me in return for what I did for you."

Chloe's digit tightened on the trigger. "You only got it up for me because I match your obsession. You're a sick puppy and you're not going to escape justice, either way."

"Then stop me!" He screamed as he launched himself at her.

Chloe shifted her aim, and pulled the trigger.

* * * * * * * * *

Carl had come running as soon as he heard the shot. One look was enough to fill in the blanks for him. He took charge of the scene and collected Chloe's gun, for the inquiry that would follow.

After Internal Affairs had taken over Carl wrapped Chloe in a blanket he found in the motel room's closet and led her to his car. He drove back to the headquarters, knowing that she would not want to go home until she had written her report on the night's activities.

Back at the headquarters Carl parked in a shadowy area and shut off the engine. He made no move to leave the car.

"How are you going to write this up?" He asked, looking straight ahead.

"It looked like two separate investigations that fouled each other." Chloe dictated tonelessly. "I stayed in the room because he's a young stud and I was desperate for it. Erica and her tribe of gossip queens will verify that we were attracted to each other. You got jealous and stated checking him out. Found out about the shakedown and his false identity. You phoned to warn me before you left the headquarters. He got antsy and tried to run. I pulled my gun, he attacked. I fired."

"You blew his balls clean off." Carl said with some awe. The shepherd had been in no danger of bleeding to death, but there was nothing left of his sac or testicles to reattach. The heavy slug had taken them and splattered them all over the wall of the motel room.

"It was a snap shot at a moving target. The bullet could have gone anywhere."

"Sure. Dim lighting, sudden attack, adrenaline rushing. A fluke. Could happen to anybody. But, Chloe ..."

"Yeah Carl?"

"You had better redecorate your office before Internal Affairs visits." Chloe did not frame her medals or citations and display them like most cops did. But she did have a plaque from the police academy, commemorating her fifth straight year as champion in their annual combat pistol competitions. The kind of competition that involved hitting small moving targets exposed for a short period of time and sometimes, in dim lighting.

"Jesus, thanks for reminding me." That was her partner, she smiled, meticulous in every detail.

"He was wearing baggy shorts, how did you know where to aim?"

"Let's just say that I knew how they were hanging by that point." She said, a little sadly. Shame at how she had let Grant treat her overtaking the memory of the pleasure for the moment.

They lapsed into silence. Both staring straight ahead. Chloe became very aware of Carl's physical presence, sitting there in the car beside her. Carl was not married, never had been. He was too picky for most females to put up with. He was her protector. The reference to his missus had been a code to tell him that she was safe enough for the time being, but Chloe knew that her dependable rottie would be there when she needed him. Funny, she thought, I've never seen him as anything more than a partner, never felt any sexual attraction to him, or any other canine ... until tonight.

"I was, you know." Carl said out of nowhere.

"Huh, sorry?" Chloe's mind had been wandering, wondering if all big dogs had a big knot.

"I was, jealous that is, when you stayed in the motel room with him. And when you screamed in pleasure, I almost busted in right then." He continued to stare straight ahead, left paw on the steering wheel, his right resting on the storage container between them. He was twirling something between the digits of that paw, an inlaid wooden hair comb that Chloe had pointed out to him one day when they were grabbing a quick bite in the local market. Just as she had talked about how hard it was to find her favourite shampoo, how she needed a little box for her earrings, how lame giving red roses seemed because everybody did it. And of course he knew that practically every bit of clothing she owned that wasn't part of her decoy costumes was in autumn colours, because Carl was the type of guy who noticed things like that.

Putting the comb aside, Chloe took his big brown paw and turned it over. She placed her tiny white one pad to pad on it. Carl's digits curled and enfolded hers, tenderly.

"Why do you like me Carl? Because I'm your little kitten that you have to take off?"

"No Chloe, because you are an amazing person. More capable, intelligent and mature than most other cops. The kind of person I look up to." He turned his head and looked down to meet her eyes as he spoke.

Chloe squeezed his paw hard. Her protector was her admirer. He wasn't fake or showy, didn't use any lures or decoys to distract her. He was just the plain old, real deal, nice guy. The kind that gets overlooked.

"We'll be suspended with pay for a few days while they conduct the inquiry into the shooting." She said, gazing up into his dark eyes. "Got any plans?"

The end

All characters © Dikran_O