Backstage Pass (v3) -- 2009 Fred Brown, Kevin Trott fwbrown@nb.sympatico.

ca

Backstage Pass

Copyright Fred Brown, Kevin Trott, Jan 5, 2009

fwbrown@nb.sympatico.ca

Chapter Five:

Jamati detoured to the stage to pick up her sari, folded it, and draped it
around her neck. Hid nothing, yum. Derrick pushed through the exit, and we
followed, and where'd our prisoners go?
To my immediate left were twin doors, one with a sign labeled
Backstage. In front of us was white hallway with a few more doors. It ended at a
dead-end intersection thirty or so meters away, all lit coolly by two rows of
bright LED lighting beads on the ceiling. Fire extinguisher/emergency station
halfway down. "They're around th' corner," Derrick said. "Meerkat, let's walk 'n
talk, shall we? Three important things."
"All right." I stepped up beside him as we walked. Jamati and Karen fell
back.
"First, Ah've seen seasoned people bobble lesser trouble than what you
just aced on your first night out," Derrick said. "Remarkable. Ordinarily Ah'd be
droppin' a commendation in your file right about now. Except y' haven't got one.
Second, t' fix that, can y' get back here tomorrow afternoon and give me a few
hours?"
"Ah, sure. Afternoon, I should be mobile again. Morning, nope, dead
meerkat snoring. Gonna take a major caffeine injection before we can all shout
'it's alive.'"
"Ah hear you. Task is expedite th hiring and stamp you as provisionally
on staff from th' instant y' filled in that form. Damn lucky stroke there. Thisll
help keep Reggie and Tabitha, our lawyers, from hyperventilatin' too hard about
everything. Theyll brief y' at lightspeed on how th' legal bullshit works. Y'
stopped a serious incident, there's reports t' write--we'll walk through those--and
maybe cops t' talk to. Maybe much later testimony t' do. Or not, dependin' how
th' gears grind our two perps an' if they plead guilty. Thisd all be a piece of cake
if y' had your trainin,' Ah assure you. Exceptin' as events got in th' way of that."
I waved a hand. "Oh, well, my busy schedule. So much to do; the little
things just drop off the edge. When do I find time to do the dishes?"
From behind me, Karen: "Wait, he does dishes too? That's it, tiger, I
gotta fight you for him." Derrick and I looked back over our shoulders to see
Karen looking wicked and Jamati giggling into the sari stuffed into her muzzle.

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Backstage Pass (v3) -- 2009 Fred Brown, Kevin Trott fwbrown@nb.sympatico.ca

Derrick snickered. Then in a whisper: "Y' would have th' luck t' bump
into Karen. One of Jamati's best friends. One way or another, artist, Ah'm not
placin' any bets on you makin' it home tonight. As people seem t' keep sayin',
we'll see what we'll see."
I blushed under my fur. But that was an encouraging statement. "With
Jamati just strolling around in the buff like that, so will everybody else," I
whispered back, grinning. "This is by no means a complaint. Gotta put a gun to
her head to make her wear clothes, am I right?"
"You're catchin' on. Very unique tigress heah; her parents are th' key t' a
lot of it. Y' can swap stories. Probably a good idea come t' think of it. But back t'
security."
"Right," I said in an ordinary voice. We couldn't whisper all night. We
were coming up on the intersection.
"Right," Derrick said. "Third thing, your aptitude for this work appears t'
be quite sharp. You're spot on: th' system is vulnerable. Like any security
organization, not built but evolved. A lot of forces have put pressure on it t' adapt
an' use available resources efficiently. People gotta make decisions, though,
about what th' system can do, what kinda problems it should deal with. 'Cause it
can't do everything. Nor should it. With me so far?"
I nodded. "Sure. In first year the college ran us through a short but high
quality business ed section n business boot camp. A lot of us are headed for
running our own business. Or they just wanted to weed us; whichever. Thats
nearly a quote from the module on systems theory."
Derrick chuckled. "And he does dishes too. Youre turnin' out to be one
talented lil' meerkat, y'know that?"
"Hopefully."
Barely, my ears caught that. Somebody behind me whispering very low.
But oh crap, which one?
Derrick missed it. "So: we got a system heah that's good at some things,
not as much at others. Mainly 'cause people can't make decisions 'bout problems
they can't see, or worse, don't see that what they see is a problem. Y' got a
hammer, everything looks like a nail, y'know? Our training reinforces that an'
makes us all damn good at spottin' nails. Now you come along--untrained--and
say hey, what's this screw stickin' up? Then screwed 'em where another snooper
mighta said, hmmm, no, that aint a nail. Then we'd be real screwed."
"Gee, boss, all this talk of screwin'" I muttered. "You could give a body
ideas."
From behind us there were two simultaneous feline female <Snnnks!>
"Like I said, welcome to Layers," Karen laughed. "That's just about the whole
idea to this place."
"He's drawing hot art now? Wait till he sees the show I do upstairs,"
Jamati whispered, and oh, was that a wicked whisper.
I choked. "Okay: new technique. Asbestos sheet instead of paper, oven
mitts, and a heat shield. Water-based ink so it doesn't volatilize and burst into
flame. I'd better start practicing."
Derrick heard them that time and had to put a hand to his muzzle to trap
the snickers. "Maybe y' should," he said in a strangled voice. "My, but it's hard t'
stay on topic tonight."
We reached the intersection and Derrick turned right. Ah: there's my
good fightin' buddies, about twenty meters away and leaning against the wall.
They were well apart by another ten meters or so. We could talk to one without
the other hearing. Or not much. Big Raccoon and Horse stood implacably in front
of them, their arms folded patiently across their chests. Slumped down against
the wall in the wolf's case.

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Backstage Pass (v3) -- 2009 Fred Brown, Kevin Trott fwbrown@nb.sympatico.ca

"T' wrap up fast, Ah want y' t' think further an' wide about tonight's fun,"
Derrick said quietly. "Then Ahll give y' a ticket t' talk t' anybody y' like and
think further. Objective: figure out how t' put your outsider viewpoint t' use, jog
some brain cells in the Ops team, maybe tune things a bit t handle conspiracybased occurrences better. Tonight wasnt th' first. Some grifters hit us last year,
three beautiful cat fur girls--worse, triplets--an' a blindingly good-lookin' wolf fur
guy. Drool. Needed th' fraud cops t' nail 'em. They got greedy 'n escalated t'
scams on selected guests. Fortunately, or we never would've caught 'em."
Woof. I stopped like I'd hit a wall, major bogglement taking hold. Jamati
bumped into me from behind (that was nice). Ho-ly...
Raccoon who liked dropping big things. If he came out and said how
would you like a job as the CEO should I be surprised?
"Derrick, that's a... big assignment," I gulped. "And Id rightly guess that
there are security consultants around with a leeetle more expertise to offer on this
subject than a student artist meerkat."
"Y' did say y' were graduatin' soon," Derrick grinned. "Better, we
wouldnt have t' pay you what we'd have t' pay them. An' Ah dont need to know
how t' hammer nails better. Pretty Helga an' Ah have a policy of bein' real
eclectic in hirin' security folk. Th' more different ways of lookin' at trouble we've
got on staff, th' less trouble. That policy just paid off huge time. When she gets
back she will kiss you on th' lips for how y' fixed this trouble. Then be as
interested as me at whatever y' might have t' say."
I looked at Karen and Jamati, who'd come up beside us. "How nice, the
hot felines are proliferating. Who'da thunk it? That's still a pretty tall..."
Order didn't make it out as Jamati cut me off. "Enough. Defenders of
naked beautiful tigresses aren't allowed to be modest," she said calmly. "It was
your artist eyes that spotted them, then the rest of you stopped them. And saved
me from something likely real embarrassing. And/or from having to clean some
blood out of these."
Jamatiheld up a paw, with the five sharp claws on the ends of her five
fingers; retractable, like all felines. Then spread her arms wide. "You can't blame
Derrick for wanting to know how you did it. So the rest of us can too. Whip out a
pot of grateful, artist. Then colour me with it. 'Cause I am. Very much so."
Full-frontal Jamati. And smiling warmly at me. Big woof. Or meowrr.
"That's funny," I said dryly. "For some strange reason all I can think of right now
is body painting. Now how the hell do I pull that off with you? I may be looking
at the biggest challenge of my artistic career."
"All of her," Jamati giggled, then lowered her arms. I was really starting
to get fond of that tiger giggle. "We'll just have to see, etcetera etcetera."
This was definitely making up for missing her show. "Oh. Yeah.
Etcetera. Took the words right out of my muzzle," I murmured. Was I staring a
bit? She didn't seem to mind.
"You know, I think I'm going to really like posing for you," Jamati said
softly. "There: saves you asking 'cause sooner or later you would. If you're that
good when I'm not in front of you, when I am ought to turn out really well,
hmmm?"
I looked up from the nipple jewelry showing through the sari and met her
green eyes. "So I'm hoping. Bit of art history for you. Back in the 20th there was
an artist named Alberto Vargas. Watercolour specialist, a freakin' wizard, who
must've used magic; no other explanation. Early on he got into doing nudes, then
got good, then exceptional, then damnnear king of the universe at nudes. I should
set up a shrine so I can worship properly. Show you some pieces and you'll
wanna too. His commercial career was rough in spots but he cranked out
thousands of works, in dozens of styles. And when you study the entire corpus
you'll see certain similarities. Lotsa women influenced him but his wife Anna
Mae, the love of his life, was a huge part of his inspiration for it all. Tres
romantic story."

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Backstage Pass (v3) -- 2009 Fred Brown, Kevin Trott fwbrown@nb.sympatico.ca

I held up a finger. "And here's the punchline," I grinned. "She was a

dancer. Don't know if I can beat Vargas but I'm sure gonna try and nip at his
heels some."
Jamati had her muzzle open a bit in a smile. "Well now," she said,
delight in her voice. "Yes, that is romantic. Ambitious artist meerkat. As for the
heel nipping, you've got the fangs for it."
"Mmmm. Suppose I do. Then again, so do you."
"Oh yes." As a pink tongue touched her beautiful front ones.
"Of course, Vargas didn't have to worry about getting fangs right."
"I'm sure you're up to the challenge. But wait: does that mean I have to
marry you before I can pose for you?"
"We-ll, nudist weddings do save a bundle on dress expenses 'n tux
rentals. That's offset by the cost of cleaning afterwards. Church pews, shed fur,
you see the problem."
Off to the side: "They're gettin' started againnn," Karen murmured to
Derrick in a sing-song soto voce voice.
"Ah noticed," Derrick growled. Then in a voice that was almost, but not
quite, soto voce enough: "As we all knew they would."
Karen, equally low: "You can see trains coming a mile away too."
Jamati's ears were as good as mine. Up they went along with mine. And
knew that I'd heard too. Her eyes widened as she licked her lips. We had a ClassA Awkward Moment on our paws here.
Trickiest of tricky tasks: telling somebody for the first time that you're
sexually attracted to them. Sometimes it's obvious, and no words need to be
spoken by either of you. The crucial thing: is the other person attracted to you
too? And are they prepared to tell you?
A funny raccoon and a wicked lioness had sorta put a boot into that.
Although the huge rush of arousal I felt as we looked at each other--and certain
all of a sudden that it was mutual--almost, almost knocked me over.
But who makes love standing up anyway?
Saved by the bell, I mean raccoon. "For th' second time, let's get this
occurrence sorted," Derrick growled. "Kyle, fine, you're hot for Jamati. Jamati,
fine, you're hot for Kyle. Sorry if puttin' that on th' table as bald as that takes all
th' drama out of it. By th' power invested in me 'cause Ah'm your boss, Ah now
pronounce you meerkat 'n tigress, an' leave you t' figure out which is which.
Later."
Moment broken. Derrick would say that. We cracked up. "I hadn't been
aware there was any doubt about the issue," Jamati gasped, helpless with giggles.
"Unless there was a terrible mix-up at the hospital thirty-four years ago. Funny,
my parents look like tigers."
"Mine don't," I snickered, poorly able to do much else than snicker.
"Although Momma could make you wonder at times. Short, feline, a bit chubby,
incredibly explosive temper; that's a tiger, isn't it?"
"Sorry, no. Orange 'n black stripes. Giveaway."
"I stand corrected."
Derrick's glare was starting to reach ignition temperatures. I held up a
hand. "All right, all right, later, later," I chuckled. "You can put the whip away.
Let's get over there, pull somebody's pants down, and get outta here."

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"Oooo!" From both Karen and Jamati. Followed by two horny feline
predator stares that made me feel like I suddenly wasn't wearing any pants
period. Or anything else.
"Or should I have found another way to say that?" I said weakly to
Derrick.
Raccoons can do deadpan as well as lionesses. "Don't worry about it,"
Derrick drawled. "Threesomes ain't nuthin' unusual around heah. Just say more
stuff like that, you'll see what Ah mean soon enough. Judgin' from how a coupla'
kitty cats seem t' be purrin' at some idea or another. Can we all walk in th'
direction of mah sternly pointed finger, chillun? We do have guests."
Derrick turned and started walking, and Jamati and Karen fell in beside
me. Were my ears burning? No, the smoke detectors weren't going off. Fooled
me.
"Relax," Jamati whispered to me. "Folk around here joke about sex so
much you'd think there's something in the water supply. More or less a coping
mechanism. Or we'd all be pouncing on each other 24/7. Wait a sec, that's exactly
what goes on. Hmmm, maybe there is something in the water supply."
I chuckled. "Or maybe we're just all furs. Somewhere along the line I
think the off button for the horny got left out. Or the on button got stuck. You
should see the college I'm at. A perpetual furry porn factory, much to the disgust
of our instructors. Come on, kiddies, there are other things to draw in this world
than boobs 'n pussies 'n butts 'n cocks."
"Ping! You said the magic word," Karen said slyly. "Got any art about
that?"
"Actually yes. The college suffers from a shortage of nude models, so we
students take our turns. I can think of sketches of one particular wolf who'll get
more'n a ping out of you. As for around here, there's that amber-furred wolf who
looked eminently sketchable. Now he's got a tail. Wouldn't be a bad place to start
for the male side of the portfolio."
Tigress and lioness sighed in unison. "Ohhh yah. Thomas," Karen
breathed, pinging loudly at the thought of him. "Dreamy."
"Precisely the right word," Jamati sighed again, ping, ping, ping.
Hiccup. A certain answer about a certain tigress would appear to require
some editing. We had a dancer here who, ah, waltzed on both sides of the
ballroom. As metaphors go, good enough.
Speaking of lupines...
As we approached, I could see that Wolf Fur was doing an incredibly
good whipped-puppy imitation. Utterly disconsolate. When some guys lose a
fight it does hit them hard, but this seemed an extreme reaction. Wolf Fur's world
had come to pieces and him with it. Hmmm...
I reached out and tugged on Derrick's sleeve. "Yo Derrick. Whoa.
Quickie conference," I whispered.
"Yo what?" Derrick stopped and turned around.
I looked past him at the wolf. "Derrick, that's one real flattened wuffie
over there; do I weigh that much? So having seen how you and Karen finessed
the bunny, Id point out I may have a psych edge here. I just beat him,
remember? The Shep is ringleader, the wolf is sidekick. But knows what the
Shep knows and could be in a mood to talk. To get his pride back I think Wolf
might like to kick Shep in the googly-danglys right about now. Metaphorically
speaking. "
"Take a number," Jamati growled from beside me.

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Derrick glanced at Jamati. "Heh. Right. Well, meerkat, y' seem t' be
runnin' pretty straight tonight. Go for it. If Ah see y' startin' t' run off a cliff Ah'll
just grab your tail an' haul on it."
I'd gone back to looking at the wolf and thinking fast. "Ouch. And he'd
do it too. I think I prefer whips. And don't you ever tell Jamati I said that out
loud."
Now Derrick <Snnnk'd>. "You just plumb forgot she's standin' right next
t' you, didn't you?"
My head snapped around; by Jove he was right. "Should I write that
down in case I forget it?" Jamati smiled sweetly. Karen was staring up at an
interesting spot on the featureless ceiling and silently whistling something. But
her tail was laughing.
"No," I growled loudly, ears back on fire again. Where are those
sprinklers when you really need them? I pushed by Derrick and headed towards
the wolf while trying to wipe the embarrassed off my muzzle. That's not what the
wolf needs to see.
At the same time, fantasy woke up and took a sharp dig at me. Now,
now, a good pussy-slave doesn't get to say what her tiger Mistress uses or doesn't
use. And it's not as like you're going to be in a position to protest. Or move.
Meowrr for me, 'Lil Meerkat Pussy-Slave. <Ka-PISH!>.
Oof. Bad time for the lid of the fantasy box to slip. Where'd I put my
fantasy spot welder?
But... interesting.
Then Derrick passed me heading for Big Raccoon. "Wait a sec. Almost
forgot somethin'," he said over his shoulder, then we reached Big Raccoon. We
stepped out of earshot of the wolf. "George, they heard their detention rights
yet?" Derrick said.
Big Raccoon (George) patted his breast pocket. "Read th' card out loud,
then he read it. Yitzak witnessed it and logged it with Ops. Then I witnessed him
as he did the dog. They haven't volunteered a statement. From the dog's attitude
he's taking his silence right seriously. Flamethrower wouldn't get time of day
outta him. Arrogant son. The wolf's looking ominously depressed. Gut feeling,
Derrick: put a monitor on him. Body language and affect aren't kosher."
Jamati and Karen had arrived beside us. "Good eye," Derrick said. "They
were plannin' on tryin' t' escape but expectin' as they'd be caught. All part of th'
plan. They weren't expectin' to be stopped. So this kind of caught represents total
failure. And th' wolf has lost bigger than th' Shep, or seems so? Hmmm. That's
kinda curious. Go to, artist, talk, while Ah stand here an' try an' ignore how cute
he is."
That raised an eyebrow. "Jamati was right. There is something in the
water supply," I said dryly. "Should I ask him if he thinks you're cute too?"
"Oh fer Gods sake," Derrick growled. "Ka-pish."
"Thought you'd say that."
I turned around and stepped in front of the wolf, hands on my hips and
pretending I was wearing the right big suit. Show time. Or rather, show of force
time.
The wolf looked up as I squatted down to put us level; no looming
needed here. Yup: complete defeat in his eyes. Sometimes the pain someone
takes in a fight is peanuts to the pain they take afterwards upon losing. When you
fight and win it can be easy to forget this in the heat of the fight itself.
I let a beat go by. Then:

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Backstage Pass (v3) -- 2009 Fred Brown, Kevin Trott fwbrown@nb.sympatico.ca

"How are your ears?" I said quietly. "Tugged tail, bruised ass, I'm not
concerned about. But ears: risky shot. If I've just made a doctor richer 'cause your
ears need fixing I'd better get my tail back into some refresher training. We've got
a rule around here: don't kill the customers. Busted eardrums, there's probably a
rule about that somewhere too. And what's your name? I'm Kyle."
An intuition: get the information started and it'll keep flowing. Derrick
might know his name already, but getting him to say his name to me would be
the first trickle.
The wolf dropped his eyes. "Kevin Tanner," he said to the floor. "I
should be polite and say I'm pleased t' meet you, saving that I get the feeling lies
aren't gonna fly too well tonight." He reached up and wiggled a finger in his left
ear. "Ringin' a bit but seems they still work. Christ, that hurt. Guess th' doctor's
just gonna have t' starve."
Every Southerner carries some geography in their accent. Couldn't quite
place his origins. Sounded country? Have to ask at some point.
"Good. Call me a happier meerkat. Pulled that shot as best I could.
Wanted to stun, not hurt. Six of one, half dozen of another; I'll take it. Leastwise
we're not talking in sign language. I wonder, do deaf furs use their tails too in
that?"
Small joke there, just to see if he could still smile. He did, bleakly, then
held up his hands. "You want a sign? Here's one: I surrender. Although that
might've done me more good about half an hour ago. Good all-powerful God
sittin' on th' can, where the hell did you come from? And how'd you spot us? One
second we're ready t' launch. It was gonna be fast, 'n fun, an' like lightning it's
done, and we drop a hundred bucks on the stage then try to get out, all just like
we rehearsed. Then Powie!! I'm on the floor and hurtin' 'cause an elephant fur
just freakin' tromped on my ass. Or felt like, if there was such a thing."
Rehearsed. And a hundred bucks? Hmmm. Big one.
I smiled. "Skill 'n training, Kev, skill 'n training. Go get some, come back
to me, and you never know I might learn something." In a pig's eye he's coming
back. "As for how, you'll have to hear about that in open court when I testify.
There's a fair chance that's where we're headed, depending. As for elephant furs
you complimentin' me on my style to get on my good side? You've played
football, I've played football, we've all played football. Mind you, field goal
kick's not supposed t' aim for the holder. If it's any consolation think you mighta
been worth at least forty yards."
Kevins chuckle at that was weak, but still a chuckle. He held up his
arms again in the classic gesture. "<Tweet!> And it's good. Wait a sec: ball didn't
used t' have a tail on it, did it? Oh yah, Franklin, th' kicker on our team, is gonna
get some laughs outta this story."
He closed his eyes, then rubbed them and his muzzle for a moment. He
opened his eyes and looked at me wearily. "Could be the last ones I get in for a
while so I ought t' thank y' for 'em," he sighed. "And for leaving my tail on me.
And th' ears. Foolproof plan, eh, Brad? Nothing can go wrong, all th' angles
covered. <Ppphhhbbtt!!>."
Kevin looked up, way up, at Derrick. He and Jamati and Karen had come
up behind me to listen. "Suggestion: don't put us together in the same cell," he
growled. "Not unless there's at least two as big as him in there with us." With a
jerk of his thumb at Big Raccoon. Then looked at me. "Or one of him."
Long wolf muzzle, long wolf tongue; that had been a loud Ppphhhbbtt
there. And confirmation: Brad had a major enemy now and didn't know it. We
could stoke that. And I could take that compliment.
The way I was squatting and the way he was sitting let me put peripheral
vision to work to inspect his crotch. Pants, pants, what is it about the pants? An
outright stare would not send the right message. But I could see there was a
vague something under there.

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As much as the shape was suggestive there was no way it could be a wolf
hard-on. Could it? Didn't quite look like one. And shorter. What was that
Sherlock line? So once you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains,
however improbable must be...
Suddenly, the artist meerkat's fertile imagination flashed on something
considerably ugly.
I stifled it. Hard. "Wall, in my experience, foolproof plans are usually
vulnerable due to the chief fool planning 'em," I drawled. "Being a fool, he or she
misses a few tiny points that turn out t' be other than tiny. This isn't counting the
fools who bought the whole project; no disrespect. We know enough about the
plan. Pretty sure about one point that your brilliant leader skated past. When Brad
sold you guys on this I can just see him talking at detailed length about criminal
law only. As in, the charges this prank would generate. And mostly about how
stone-easy it was going to be to get out from under those charges. High reward,
low risk: it all looked perfectly plausible. To give credit where due it almost
worked. Which is kinda like saying that hand grenade almost landed in my lap."
Kevin just stared at me. Then snickered. "So: they're disguising hand
grenades t' look like meerkats these days, are they? Brad sure as fuck missed that.
Damn, you almost sound as if you bugged our house; please don't tell me you're
that good. Oh yah, he was downright eloquent. They' were studying sexual
assault law in his classes. Brad's sub-genius insight was that th' court system
could be gamed. The guy from his Dad's law firm agreed. He's waiting to bail us,
then throw a ton of obfuscation, paperwork, and legal-weasel maneuvers into th'
files to gunk everythin' up. What we were gonna do was so minor eventually th'
prosecutor'd get bored with us and knock it all down to probation. Everything's
gonna be fine, fine, fine."
Kevin snorted. "My bruised furry ass. Shakespeare had it wrong. Skin all
th' lawyers. Before they skin us."
Simultaneous behind me, multiple shocks. The two from Jamati and
Karen were at the words sexual assault. Wed tentatively guessed that there was
something kinked going on. Actually hearing it from one of the perps (I was
starting to pick up the language around here), now that was different.
But from Derrick the shock was larger. I felt a hand on my shoulder as he
leaned down to stare at the wolf.
"Kevin?" Derrick breathed, his eyes bright. "Mah lovely, fine-furred,
slightly-punched-out Kevin? Did Ah heah y' right? A lawyer was in on this 'lil
shivaree? Who advised y'all on th' fallout? An' how t avoid it? Y'know, cute
wolf, Ah used t' be a cop so Ah do empathize with your skinnin' idea. Except for
th' lawyers on mah side, of course. Lawyers are officers of th' court, meanin'
helpin to plan criminal acts is th' plumb last thing they're supposed t' do.
Meanin' better, th Georgia Bar Society will happily skin that lawyer th hard
way if we can write a proper report. Best yet, that'd screw Brad outta his legal
career with a honkin' big screw. Least in this state. If you're willin' t' speak that
guys name, Ah'll do everythin' Ah can t' help y' out of this with your beautiful
bushy tail still on you, then kiss y on th' lips and you'll enjoy it. Ah draw th' line
at marryin' you but hey, we gotta date for a while, see a few movies, splash
around in a few hot tubs. Then we'll see what we'll see. Ah like t' be romanced."
With everything I had, I kept my expression rock-still; almost not
enough. But couldn't keep my tail from flicking behind me in near-hysterics. Oh,
oh, how subtle, boss. I could almost hear tigress and lioness ears vaporizing,
much less what their tails were doing. But wow, the scope of this had just
expanded. Did other folks at that law firm know too? This could be a real nice
coup if Kevin went for it. The lawyer skinnin', not the horny gay raccoon, that is.
For his part, Kevin sat there looking like the bogglement was going to be
permanent, muzzle fallen open and staring up at Derrick. Then he shook his head
and looked at me. Despite the stunned, he did have the classic predator wolf fur
good looks Derrick had said he was susceptible to. I didn't think that was really
impeding his judgment.

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I shrugged. "For a boss, a raccoon of his word. This is a fiasco at the

moment, but could end well: a bent lawyer and a bent law student get
taxidermied. Not quite a good time to ask for a decision since this is very serious,
but I know how I'd jump. Boned, you said? Yeah, and maybe the follow-on legal
plan might still work, except we'd already kinda figured there was one, so now it
won't. All told, its out of sexual assault law and into conspiracy to obstruct
justice law; the prosecutor'll be much less bored. Three guesses, Brad hasn't
gotten to those classes yet. Ha! The least of what he left out. Think you've got a
good offer on the table here."
As I silently gave up a prayer of thanks to the college. The section on law
and commercial art had contained a more general overview. Pretty sure I was on
firm ground there. I was trying to gently paint Kevin into a box without him
feeling trapped. And with only one way out.
So toss some humor in too. "As for the kiss-on-the-lips offer, well, if
Derrick says he's gonna do something, pucker up and get ready for him to do it,"
I grinned. "Ask for dinner and one of those movies first? Beyond that, I can't
rightly advise you except that he likes Budweiser. Hey, you could do worse,
y'know."
Do I need to put matchmaker meerkat on my resume too? I saw Kevin
look up at Derrick, one eyebrow raised just the slightest bit. Derrick beamed
back. Lord, what is it about this place? Breakin' out all over.
Kevin dropped his muzzle and chuckled. "I like Bud too," he whispered,
as he looked at me. "Gotta have something in common. Or it just doesn't work
out." He looked back up at Derrick. "Cute wolf, huh? But suh, this is so sudden.
Never mind. You're not kissing anybody if I'm in jail, I'm kinda motivated t' keep
my apparently pretty butt outta there, so I guess we have some common cause.
All right, cute raccoon, you got me. Let's skin a lawyer or two and call it a good
start. The guy's name is Mark Jameson, one of the lower-level folks at
Henderson, Henderson, Thomas and Kilroy. Serious powerhouse; lock 'n load
with anti-tank rockets and a couple of tac nukes. And maybe a few garlic-soaked
silver bullets. One of those Hendersons is Brad's Dad, the senior partner.
Jameson used to be in Mason House way back which is why he helped."
Instantly, Derrick's compslate was out and on. He tapped, then typed
rapidly on the screen. "Got it. Wee, this is gonna be fun," he said gleefully. "Kiss
with lotsa sloppy tongue. Don't worry, Kevin, just lie back 'n look hunky; Ah'll
be gentle. You're good at hunky. And excuse me for a sec 'cause Ah need to
make a call now! Oh, and Kyle..."
Derrick bent down to my ear. "Civil suit. Tell him. Psych move," he
whispered, then stood up and stepped away, his compslate at his ear. Didn't hear
what he was saying. Definitely not an impeded raccoon.
Kevin was indulging in more boggled. "That's an... interesting boss
you've got there," he said to me weakly. "Won't say he isn't kinda cute, actually.
Notwithstanding the mess I'm in, should I wonder if he's serious? Suppose I
could find out. I've got some tight gym shorts that're cut up th' sides. See if that
makes his tail wag."
They'd feel the breeze in Beijing. I glanced back at Derrick. Jamati and
Karen were staring at him like he'd grown another tail. Out of his forehead. "Y'
know," I murmured. "Since coming to work here I've really noticed how things
just seem to happen out the blue, powie, and all of a sudden there's sparks."
I looked at Kevin. "But then that's what it's set up to do, to all of us,
guests or staff. Or bosses. So notwithstanding the mess you're in you've at least
got his eye. The raccoon is on. Somebody ground him out before the sparks toast
his compslate. Not gonna mess up his head, of course; he's too pro. But later,
sure, grab those shorts if--and that's a highly orientation-dependent if--if there's
something in you that agrees with your kinda cute comment. You are the type
that goes over well on the male stripper side of the room here. Or you can forget
about it all. Plenty of other cute pretty-tushed wolfies, I mean fish, in the sea for
Derrick to catch. One way or another I'll give you points for not reacting with
outrage. Certainly some guys would."

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Kevin was looking at Derrick. "Oh hey, some guys are fools too. What,
can't take a compliment, buddy?" He looked at me. "Any wolf fur finds out early
on. Top predator. You're gonna get attention and interest from all sides. From
everybody but th' potted plants. And I think a clump of ferns was leaning towards
me a few days back."
Kevin smiled wryly. "Call me stupid for winding up here tonight, but at
least I'm smart enough t' take a horny gay raccoon in stride without spookin'.
Back in junior high found out two times that there ain't no need t' spook at
anything."
He looked back at Derrick. "Hmmph. Hot tubs, huh? He's big enough to
splash all the water out just by sitting down."
But he's perfectly correct, you know.
Kevin met my eyes. "Don't tell him I said this, but I sorta get the feeling
my tail might wag a little if he was in some tight gym shorts. Which tells you
something about what happened in junior high, I suppose."
Successfully suppressing bogglement, I ran a finger all the way around
my face. "Just call me sealed muzzle meerkat. Raccoons are all pretty funny
guys. Suspect you'll be laughing a lot."
Kevin leaned back against the wall and sighed. "True enough. So. Maybe
two good things to come out of this, then. Plus or minus the time it'll take for me
to get out of this. Damn. The way my Dad's gonna explode I think I might
appreciate having a big raccoon by my side."
That rang a tiny bell. "Been trying to place your voice. You're not a city
wolf. Do I hear Northern Georgia?"
"You do. Got Chatsworth in my blood, right beside the Chattahocchee
forest. Blissful place for a wolf. Family's been doin' corn and pigs for
generations."
"Do tell. Country meerkat here, come to find riches and hot sex in the big
city. I'm in the right job. Got out of Macon territory about two years ago. We did
canola, wheat, and chickens. Haven't tasted a real egg since."
"I hear you. What's this carbonized brown strip on my plate? Can't be
bacon. Porker goes through a processin' plant, seems to lose something
important. Always wondered what they do with the taste they take out."
"Uh huh. When we ate y' could still hear the squawk from when the axe
came down. Spoiled me; just can't eat the stuff from the freezer section."
"You'd starve at a Georgia Poly cafeteria."
"Then I'm really in the right job."
We grinned at each other. I hadn't forgotten that this guy had been ready
to jump on stage and do something frankly obscene to Jamati. I could feel her
behind me and as tight as a wire. All this camaraderie couldn't be doing her blood
pressure any good. And Karen was radiating predatory signals that suggested an
eagerness to do a body cavity search; all of them, and the hard way.
But as far as the goal went we were definitely getting information. As for
why he'd been willing to do this, we might be getting to a point where I could ask
and he'd answer. There were still a couple of pieces missing. Such as how'd this
start? If I was right about what was under his pants there was not going to be a
nice answer. It looked as though he'd all but forgotten it was there.
Then agenda preempted. Kevin looked down and balled his hands
tightly. "One thing: the least of what he left out. And a couple of things you said
before that. Suggesting there's another legal angle on this that kibble-for-brains
Brad missed. Now, I appreciate not being treated like a scumbag--although I can
see there's a tigress and a lioness behind you with a different idea--but I think I'd
better know this now. What other legal angle?"

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Derrick had come back from his call in time to hear us. I took a deep
breath. I tapdanced this right or blew it all. "Kev, you saw when we took James
and got his camera. Hes in a different odour of trouble from you but just as
smelly. When you guys came here for the first time for your reconnaissance you
had to read, and sign, a customer behaviour agreement. You had to click through
each screen to get to the end and the agree button; ensures you genuinely read it.
I did the same the first time I came here. Part of that agreement says clearly, no
cameras, or use of cellphone cams. So James has a clear problem. When did you
do the recon, by the way?"
Which will lead me to asking how it started. Kevin stared. "Three weeks
ago."
"Planning on this started, what, two weeks before that?"
"Huh? No, we just dropped in on Layers to see the place. Brad hatched
the idea a few days later."
"Ah. Okay." Now I itched to ask what it was about that visit that
prompted the plan. But couldn't. Arrgh.
"Here's the real hog in the outhouse, Kev. And stinkin' as bad. That
customer behaviour agreement is a legally binding document. A contract.
Between you, Mr. Wolf Customer, and Layers Inc., a duly registered corporation
under Georgia law, all permits 'n licenses in order, all taxes paid, and all health
inspections up to date, no roaches in our kitchen, uh uh, nossir. Except for Willy
over there who trained himself up to be a pretty good pastry chef. Can't bear to
squish him; we'd miss his crullers."
I heard Jamati and Karen giggle at that, and was rewarded with a smile
from Kevin. Practical psych: make the point but break the tension. So you can
make the Big Point without breaking him. I'm dancing as fast as I can, boss.
"Contract law, Kev, contract law," I said quietly. "Highly freaky stuff;
lawyers train for years to just article at it. I suspect that Brad read our contract,
said oh, that's interesting, and forgot about it. 'Cause it's all the case law and
existing legislation that surrounds a contract that gives it fangs, not necessarily
the text itself. It's binding on Layers as well as you. If Layers screwed up big
time and somehow breached that contract, under civil law you could take Layers
into court and eviscerate it. Depending on the kind of damages you suffered. On
the other hand, if, say, somebody brings a camera into the place, that's equally a
breach of contract. And Layers can therefore..."
"Sue said somebody's big ears, poofy tail, 'n whiskers right off him,"
Kevin groaned. "Then it's the wolf's turn. Oh for fuck's sake! Brad, you infinite
fuckin' moron!! I'll kill him. First chance I get. Just pounce on him, rip his throat
out, shred his heart. Then I'll get mad. I know how t' barbecue a pig. A German
Shepherd can't be too different."
"All right. I'm prepared to like you a little better than a minute ago,"
Jamati said coolly over my head. "We're talking the same language. I'll bring the
spit and the charcoal."
"You're gonna love my Mom's sauce recipe; th' lioness can do th' salad,"
Kevin said miserably as he deflated into genuine misery. "Lawsuits. Oh crud, I'm
out of jokes. Took Mom and Dad a bitch of a lot of work to get me here. We
don't even begin to have the scratch to deal with a lawsuit. And legal fees. For
damn certain Brad's Dad isn't gonna kick in, not even for Brad. Cold bastard; I've
met him. You win, you're a winner, you lose, you're a loser, is his motto. How
much do these things usually cost?"
Derrick spoke up. "Expedited lawsuits, usually over and done inside of a
month. For small stuff Layers tends t' ask for damages somewhere inside th'
thousand dollar range. Costs us bucks t' handle an occurrence so we wanna
recover them. Tonight ain't small by any stretch. Not sure what number mah
bosses would have picked for this but Ah'd guess at a heavy punitive thirty to
fifty K."

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I caught that. So did Kevin. His head came up, a little hope in his eyes,
brown and deep. Maybe couldn't blame Derrick for his interest. "Would have?"
he said carefully.
Derrick folded his arms over his chest. "Funny thing about bein' a boss,
Kev. Sometimes there's th' right thing t' do, and then there's another right thing t'
do. Either way you're gonna win. So lazy bosses just flip a coin, or just pick th'
easiest thing, an' leave it at that. What a great boss everyone says. Always seems
t' make th' right decisions."
Derrick leaned forward a bit. "Ah'm not a lazy boss. Ah'm lookin' at a
variety of possible right decisions here t' resolve this, so Ah'm gonna ask th' right
question, th' one that y' don't find many bosses do so shit-hot at. Given all th'
interests at stake heah, what's th' one decision that does th' best for everybody?
Lotsa bosses look only at their company's interests, or even narrower, just their
department's interests. As if nobody else counts or there ain't no such thing as an
outside world. That's not how we do things around this joint. Ain't about t'
sacrifice Layer's interests, mind, but Ah do see a couple of decisions thatll do
Layers a power of good."
Derrick chuckled. "Only downside: you're probably gonna walk outta
here thinkin' Ah've chucked a big bribe at you just so Ah c'n get a chance t' give
y' a good groomin' session an' serve y' a few cold Buds. Or however many it
takes. No matter. Can't be helped. Ah see and can't ignore it: if you go through a
lawsuit y' might end up ruined in multiple ways, which means Brad and his
lawyer buddy might get away with it 'cause you're a puddle of cute goo on th'
sidewalk. This idea don't please me. Can't groom goo. Ah find mahself persuaded
t' believe it's more in Layers interests t' see two scumbags nailed right smartly
than it is t' collect your hot tail as trophy. Thats a mite useless t' me without th'
rest of hot you attached to it.
In the water supply, the air, the beer, and Ill wonder briefly at whats
off-gassing from the paint on the walls. Only explanation.
Derrick unfolded a hand and pointed at Kevin. So Ah'm gonna
recommend no lawsuit at you, and it'll stick. James your bunny friend might be a
different case, but then Ah still gotta get in a full interview with him. Th' two
dogs technically committed an assault with intent t' abet another crime. They
actually acted. That's troublesome. But one thing for certain: all prosecutors are
predators. They like big game way more'n little game. So a prosecutor'll likely be
a lot happier with you under immunity in th' witness box and testifyin' than you
in th' defendants box gettin' ground t' wolf burger. Another idea that don't please
me. Second decision: Ah'm gonna recommend the state do it that way. Pretty sure
that'll stick too."
Dumbfounded would be about the right word to use here. And kept
Kevin from speaking for a moment; we all got a good look at a set of
dumbfounded jaw-dropped wolf fangs (down, raccoon). "Guess y' do learn
something new every day," Kevin gulped at last. "Didn't know I was that cute.
Although I'd be back t' fool if I imagined that was actually a factor."
"Nahhhh," Derrick purred toothily, all predator in that purr. "Trust me,
you're gonna work for your absolution. As for if you're deservin' of it, as you
said, there's a certain tigress 'n lioness with different ideas 'bout that. So lucky for
you Ah'm th' boss and they're th dancer 'n th snooper. Although Ah did take a
turn on a stripper stage one time waaay back. Went over well enough. Funny how
most folk around heah seem tempted t' give it a whirl at some point; that's furs
for you. Not t' put ideas in your head--drool, drool--'cause when Ah said work Ah
meant it but damnsure not that kind. Prosecutor's gonna make you sweat for sure.
Might've been guilty mind in you before a certain meerkat fell on you from a
great height, but if there wasn't th' honest desire t' find a way t' repent in you right
now Ah doubt we'd be talkin' this way. Repentance, yah, Ah like repentance.
Good for th' soul, don't y' think, Jamati?"
I twisted my head to look up at Jamati. She was standing with her arms
crossed and a scowl on her muzzle, fingers drumming lightly on her forearm. But
there was also a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. Karen had an eyebrow raised.

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"Huh. Well enough?" Jamati growled. "Kevin, don't believe the funny
raccoon for a second. I remember he sucked at it. Why d' you think he's in
security right now and not out there flouncing his hot tail around? Among other
things. As for repentance. Any reason why the wolf can't repent from inside my
stomach?"
"Mmmm, he does look kinda tasty," Derrick purred. "But Ah suppose
Ah'm biased. Big wolf, though. Pretty sure he'd make y' look fat."
"Oooo, ow, eeee. You're right. I'd be months exercising him off. Okay,
the wolf is spared. He's all yours."
"Why thank y' kindly. Wrap him up, Ah'll take him. An' who says
Christmas don't come early?"
In the general round of chuckling after that, it was clear that Kevin had
realized his tail was getting nicely pulled. "Oh boy. Raccoon fur stripper," he
whispered to me, chuckling too. "Who needs gym shorts? Take it all off, buddy,
ah-wooo."
That was good enough to prolong my chuckling for a bit.
Then Kevin blinked. "Wait a sec. Did I just hear an oblique job offer in
there? As a stripper?" he hissed.
That stopped the chuckles pretty good. I glanced up at Derrick, who was
talking quietly to Big Raccoon. "After the legal bullshit is over, sounded like an
open door to me," I said in a low voice. "Which is more than horny raccoon
talking, I think. As a boss, I'm of the opinion that Derrick likes team building;
strippers take security training too. Either way you'd be good at it. Put on one of
our make-you-look-big suits, walk on stage, then take it off? Crowd of horny fur
girls goes wild. Admit it, university student, as part-time jobs go that's one of the
right ones."
Kevin stared at Derrick. Then snickered. "Interests. Okay. And if there's
a horny raccoon in the back row cheering me on, yah, I'm gonna mind." He
leaned forward and put his face in his hands, his shoulders quaking. Muffled:
"Oh boy. What a night I'm having here."
Is there an echo in this place?
Kevin let it out a bit more, then looked up at me, smiling. "For the
record, I'm out of Mason House as of before immediately. Whole campus'll hear
th' sonic boom as I break Mach moving my stuff. Enough's enough. Way past
enough. The place is completely dedicated to horny n' porn 'n sex, and not the
good kind--students--so guess who got sucked in so deep you'd have needed a
submarine to find his tail. Our rehearsals with this cute bunny from one of the
sororities always turned into a gangbang as she got her stripper fantasies
completely satisfied. But jeeze, it turned my stomach after a while. So fuck it.
And Mason House. With telephone poles. Hold th' lube."
Rehearsals? Wait, he had said. Gangbangs. Oh damn, being right this
time wasn't as fun as the last time. Then from above me: "Keep talking. I'm
liking you better and better," Jamati said. "The no lube thing is a pleasingly
vengeful touch. Can the carnivorous naked dancer get in a question or two?"
Whups. This could get delicate.
Kevin looked up warily as I turned my head to see. Jamati had retreated a
bit from her let's-munch-on-the-wolf attitude, but was a long way from giving
him cuddles 'n smooches. Karen was looking curiously at her.
"If you do come on board as a stripper I'll be one of the ones training
you," Jamati grinned (a little evilly, I thought). "Say hello to Layers' boss
choreographer. For the record, yes, I do bite. There will be times when you might
wish I'd eaten you."

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Darn tootin' you learn something new every day. But apart from my tail I
stifled myself again. The faintly aghast look on Kevin's muzzle also required
some stiflin'.
"Ah ha. Yes ma'am. Sir. Boss," Kevin gulped. "Wait: definitely not sir."
"Perceptive wolf. What gave me away?" Jamati said, doing a bit of
stifling of her own. Karen barely succeeded, and couldn't hide a grin at him.
"What gave you away. Oh I dunno. Everything?" Kevin breathed as he
looked Jamati up and down. A certain raccoon had competition, I think. Then I
saw something interesting appear in his eyes as he looked back up and met
Jamati's.
"Listen," Kevin said levelly. "I owe you an apology for what almost
happened tonight. So ah'm-a gonna say it: I'm sorry, very sorry, and for good
measure, let's add grievously sorry. I could go on. Because I am. Except that's not
quite sufficient. Sorry's only a word, y'know? Our minister said one time there
are some wrongs where sorry don't really help. It's in the nature of the wrong, not
if it's small or big. Sorry heals nothing and sometimes makes it worse. Just says
you want to heal the wrong but there's no way you're able to. Best you can do is
take that sorry into your heart, show it to God and prove t' Him that it's real, then
pray He'll pick up the ball from there and do what you can't: make amends."
Kevin dropped his head. "Got a bad feeling that tonight happens t' be that
kind of wrong," he muttered. "Been spendin' some free time in my schedule here
prayin' about it; not gettin' an answer. God's e-mail server goes down from time t'
time I've noticed. As I recollect that sermon y' often fall into wrongs like this due
to false counsel. Somebody tryin' t' persuade you that something wrong ain't
really so, or ain't that bad, when y' know it actually is. Hoo, does Brad ever have
a talent for that. Gotta wake yourself up and see through it before God'll help
with any amendin'. Gettin' kicked in th' ass by a meerkat: yah, that's reasonable
effective for this wolf. Heh. False counsel. Y'all go ahead and laugh at the irony
there; I'll catch up with you later."
He looked up again at Jamati. "So now here I am tryin' to say sorry to a
naked beautiful tigress," Kevin sighed wearily. "If tryin' counts for something
then you've got that in full. Beyond that I suspect I know already what I'm likely
t' get back on my amends request: just do everything you can, learn and do better
next time, have faith, and the rest'll be what it'll be. Or maybe in saying that out
loud I just got my answer? Hmmm. Kinda fits. You want to know if you've got
authentic God, Mysterious WaysTM, that's what you look for. Accept no
substitutes. Really, you better not; see line one of th' contract."
The fact that that got a giggle out of Jamati and Karen, and a chuckle out
of me, said that as apologies went Kevin had pulled it off sufficient for the
moment. I gestured to Jamati and she leaned down as I shifted on my feet; I'd
been squatting too long.
"If we had any doubts about where this guy came from we don't
anymore," I whispered into her ear. And fought down the impulse to nibble it;
bad meerkat. "Definitely a country wolf. Church just doesn't put that kind of deep
stamp on city people. Or not many. No way he could've delivered that sincere an
apology if he hadn't grown up with grass under his footpaws. And every Sunday
absolutely without fail a pew under his butt."
"Oh believe me I know the type. I was one," Jamati whispered back. "My
parents didn't find me under a cabbage leaf, but from all of the stuff growing
around our place it wouldn't have been hard. And learned to read from the Bible,
which really screwed up my head for a few years. We had turkeys, not chickens.
If you ever serve me dinner don't cook cabbage or turkey. Think what we've got
here is a little lost sheep in wolf's clothing who can't find his way. Having been
led down the garden path to the killing floor. But he's doing a decent job of
getting himself back on track. If a certain raccoon doesn't lead him right back
into sinnin' 'n Bud-soaked iniquity. Or throw him over his shoulder and march
out with him."

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Barely stifled the snickers. "Oh yeah. There's a risk. Louie, I think this is
the start of a be-yootiful friendship. Oh, Louie!!" I snickered, as the stifling
failed.
Jamati licked my nose. "Yes, it is," she purred. "But I've still got some
questions." She straightened up and turned back to Kevin.
Jamati licked...
"Okay, wolf. Apology provisionally accepted," Jamati said sternly. "If
you do decide you'd like to try stripping, first time you miss a dance step I'm
teaching you it's rescinded, and you're back to Kevin on a bun. With or without
sauce."
...my nose. It took that long to get back to reality. Yes, about picking
people up and marching out with them. Whoops, I think the fantasy box is open
again. Let's try the fantasy rivet gun this time.
Kevin sure noticed the nose lick. And promptly jumped to conclusions.
The wrong ones, naturally. "Oh no. Of course he creamed us!" he groaned. "We
were going after his girlfriend! Oh now wait: it couldn't be. Wife!??"
His look of real aghast was priceless. Jamati and Karen were transmitting
stunned on all freqs. Unfortunately, I'd lost my voice. How odd, it was around
here a second ago...
Then I felt fingers in my hair as Jamati played with my ears. All right,
that's good for a healthy gleep. "I wasn't wearing a stitch at the wedding but then
I never do," Jamati cooed as she lied through her fangs. "All but gave up clothes
when I was about seventeen or so and don't miss 'em. Hey, I'm a fur. I'm dressed
enough. I've yet to hear any complaints. Certainly none from him."
"Whimpers, purrs, drooling, low growls; I think that's about all you'd
get, Kevin gulped. Are you in the right job or what?"
"Hmmm, yes, Ive heard a few of those. And yes I am. Started as basic
stripper then worked my way up the pole. To encourage you, stripping can be
huge fun. All it really takes is basic dance skill, we train you up on some
sexually-loaded moves, then coach you to tamp down your stage fright. Then
away you go to turn on a mob of fur girls who'd take you on en masse if we gave
the guys in the suits the night off. Mind you, a crucial job skill in a male stripper
is not spooking out if there are guys in the audience. Bend over a lot and either
play the boi or the hunk, I always say. Acting. Practice with the raccoon.
Granted, stripping is all tease and no action, but making folks horny can be pretty
satisfying work. After you get off the stage, trust me, lotsa action can happen.
Since you're usually kinda horny too. Right, honey?"
Now there were tiger fingers--claws--scritching down my neck. I
coughed, which was enough to restore the voice. "She finishes her show, I
usually get pounced on hard enough to shatter the bed," I said hoarsely. "The rare
times we're near one; hot tigress, no waiting. The backrubs are worth it, though,
which as you can see begin at the neck and go down from there. Now let's not get
started, honey. Still job to do here. Or I'll have to spank you." When was Karen
going to explode with laughter? Tawny fur on walls, ceiling, us...
"Maaaybe," Jamati purred. As the lid of the fantasy box blows clean off
in a million pieces. Crap. No fixing that. As the saying goes, next time I buy
German.
But Jamati did take her hand away from my neck, which tingled
substantially from the scritching. Among other places. Back to work, meerkat. I
refocused my eyes on the wolf in front of me. "Ah, Kevin, putting your future
career as a hunka-hunka burnin lupine tail aside for a second--and get this girls,
he's an engineer too--there are a couple of questions left."
Kevin was still absorbing the concentrated recruiting spiel Jamati had
delivered. "Um. Yeah," he said absently, looking over at Derrick. Still talking to
Big Raccoon? Click: no, staying away so Jamati and Karen and I could keep
going. There was a lot of psych under the surface here.

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"Was this aimed at me specifically?" Jamati said bluntly before I could

say further. Uh oh. Her next question, or possibly the one after, was going to go
straight for the goal. And I could see a damn good reason not to do that. Not with
Kevin anyway. Think real fast....
"No," Kevin said, shaking his head. "We didn't know who'd be dancing
tonight. I'll admit, a tigress gave us all pause, but Brad said suck it up, troops,
doesn't matter, we'll be in and out so fast she'll barely know that in ever
happened. So we deployed and moved. Then walked into a hand grenade with a
tan-furred tail but we all know that part."
Jamati frowned, and I wished he hadn't said 'in and out.' This was still an
angry tigress whose safety was far from on. Too late now. "Back up a few steps,"
I said hastily. "Big Lion who stepped in afterwards spoke a bit about frat pranks.
Which this is. I'm guessing this wasn't an initiation. So what actually got you
guys started? Something about your first visit in here, wasn't it?"
"Oh heck no. We had a great time. That ferret fur dancer was on. Phew.
I'm never gonna look at a schoolgirl in a uniform the same way again. Hmmm.
That should be rephrased. Anyway, nothing about Layers. It started much closer
to home with Georgia Polys huge civil war statue in the quadrangle. Dead
general on metal horse looking commanding; the general, not the horse. Which
was probably how he got dead since he must've made a beautiful target. So
redecorating statues is a hallowed frat tradition anywhere. A block of raw stone
would get done up into something embarrassing. University admin knows this,
there's five frat houses on campus, so that statue is wired everywhere with
security except up the horse's rump."
Ah: revelation dawns. "Thus making it a splendid challenge just by
sitting there," I breathed. "And every security system has its holes. Thus
prompting somebody to look for one."
Kevin nodded. "Yup. What it was, we dunno. Evidence was privately
circulated to prove who did it. Took engineering skill. The General ended up
with huge metal boobs brazed on, bra, panties, and since he wasn't wearing a hat,
a wig. All solidly expoxied on. The horse got metal tits, bra, and wig too, but also
got a perfectly accurate metal dick brazed onto where one is supposed to go. But
isn't there on almost any civil war statue you'll ever see. Tsk, can't offend
vulnerable female sensibilities with a member that might invite comparisons. If
all their horses were missing something where'd the Confederacy get more
horses?"
"Oh for the..." Karen giggled, her hand at her muzzle. "Not a bad point
there. And as pranks go, elaborate. A metal horse cock. That must have taken a
lot of work. I can think of a couple of guys around here who could model for that
with great realism."
"And Mason House had to top it, right?" I said. "Now the splendid
challenge is trying to do better."
Kevin nodded. "Mason House has a rep for sexual stuff. Giant dildo in
the horse's ass? To name one of quite a few dumb ideas. Naw. But a week or so
later we visited Layers and walked out walkin' funny. I don't remember who it
was but somebody said, damn, I'da loved to just jump up on that stage and fuck
her blind. Which isn't what you call an unusual fantasy in a male audience
who've just seen a hot ferret fur strip show. The odd thing would be if we hadn't
been thinking that. Where it started to go wrong, I guess, was Brad started
thinking about how to do it. Without gettin' disassembled by the bouncers, that is.
Or the stripper. Or going to jail. Meerkats? No, don't think anybody thought
about meerkats."
Jamati wasn't thinking about meerkats either. It was extremely lucky that
my knees still worked. I was up and in motion and turning to get in Jamati's way.
Since she was moving towards Kevin as I knew she would at hearing that. Dunno
if she was going to pounce on him or just scream in his face. Didn't matter, and
didn't blame her either, but we couldn't end this with Kevin ripped to shit.

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We collided. I ended up with a hand on a boob through the sari, the other
around her waist, and the rest of her pressed up against me. And very mad.
"Wait!!" I hissed. "Wrong target!! And I already know what's under his pants!!"
This was a very dangerous situation. Tigress fangs were a millimeter
from my muzzle. "Why should I wait?" Jamati snarled. "A rape in public! On
stage! On vid!! Ah, you're grabbing my tit, you know."
"I usually do tails but yours is behind you. Gotta improvise." I lowered
my voice. "Besides, it wasn't quite going to be a rape. Although close. And
wouldn't you rather destroy the Shepherd instead? He's the creative perv who
thought of this."
Distraction needed. I kneaded her breast a bit. It worked, and her eyes
came away from homicidal. A bit. "I think I also know how Brad persuaded
everybody too," I whispered. "There's a strap-on under those pants. Not a hardon. And strippers do play with sex toys on stage sometimes. Right? So two guys
with sex toys for cocks can simulate an on-stage fuck--a double, mouth and
pussy--click goes the camera, and the law says bad frat boys, slap on wrist, go
and sin no more. Real rape, that's wrong. A quick in and out with dildos, that's
not so wrong. False counsel. And they have their trophy that tops a statue that's
making a bad fashion statement. And one last thing..."
I looked over my shoulder to see a wide-eyed wolf scrunched against the
wall who thought he was going to die sometime in the next ten seconds. I'd
already seen Derrick and Big Raccoon step closer, alarm on their muzzles. This
could all go up in a nice ka-boom right here.
"Kevin? We're on sensitive ground but we're not quite into emergency
territory," I said as evenly as I could. "Nobody's going to hurt you. Or I'll kick
their ass. I'm good at that. We know that both you and Brad are wearing strap-ons
under your pants. Can't say about the capabilities of Layer's sensor system-classified--but now you know a little." Psych, psych. "What you and Brad were
gonna do would look exactly like an on-stage fuck to James's camera, and then
presto, Mason House has scored a big one that beats General Transvestite of the
Fightin' Cross-dressin' Rangers; don't shoot until you see the pinks of their
petticoats. One question: yes or no. That hundred bucks you were going to leave
behind. That was a tip, right?"
"Yes," Kevin whispered ashenly. "Guys go to a strip club, they should tip
the strippers. Or leastwise the willingness to leave a tip could work in our favour
in court. That was Jameson's idea. Made sense. Although by that time sense had
pretty much left the building."
That was it. The whole thing laid out in front of us. I was right again.
This was nasty.
"Okay. To defuse all this, Big Raccoon is gonna take you to the can, you
take the thing off, then you give it to Derrick after we've dealt with Brad. I see no
reason to humiliate you by making you take it off in public. Notwithstanding the
fact that it's my wife you two almost fake-boinked. It's gonna be a while before
the angry around here has died down to sub-lethal levels, but don't worry about
that for now. Takes a while for the amends to sink in. George?"
I nodded my head at Big Raccoon. "Would you get Kevin to a bathroom?
And maybe a defib machine; think his heart could use some restarting. My wife
just has that effect on people, y'know?"
Two big raccoons looked at each other, identical expressions of what-th'fuck? on their faces. I knew what they were stuck on. Then Derrick nodded
slightly and George came forward. Karen was standing there silently, one arm
around her waist and a paw on her muzzle. God bless her self-control.
"Yeah, your... wife certainly does," George said, staring at me as he
helped Kevin up. "When y' married her we were all as impressed by your guts to
propose as anything else." Whatever we were up to he'd decided not to mess it
up. But I heard the coded compliment.

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Then the effect of naked beautiful tigress body, and boob, wiped out all
else in the meerkat brain. The naked tigress was not unaffected either. "Oh hey,
I'm really just a great big ol' pussycat," Jamati whispered, her eyes on mine no
less than mine were on hers. Her hands had found their way to my waist. Didn't
seem to want to leave. If I kissed her Derrick would kill me. If I didn't, she might.
Decisions, decisions...
She looked over my shoulder at Kevin. "Except when it comes to dance,"
Jamati growled. "Then I'm a sharp-fanged bitch but you'll be real good at it when
I'm done with you."
"That's not something I'm ever likely to forget," Kevin gulped. He
glanced at Derrick. Then got a mischievous look on his face. "I'll be there with
tight gym shorts on," he grinned. "Takin' 'em off, that's a matter of training. Be
pleased to have help with that." His lowered muzzle sent the necessary signal.
"White fabric; they go kinda transparent when wet," he added. "Have t' mind
around hot tubs."
He might not have needed that last. Still worked well. I saw Derrick
stiffen just a little as he stared at Kevin. Then behind him, once, twice, his big
bushy tail swung slowly back and forth. And sent the blatantly obvious signal.
Handy things, tails, aren't they?
"Oh. Yeah," Derrick said, deadpan again. But clearly fighting back a
smile. "Tricky things, hot tubs. Gotta be careful. Y' never know what'll happen if
y' fall inta one of 'em. But we'll get t' that later. Can's down thataway back around
th' corner. George, head for interview room D after that; go out through th' crowd
so us 'n Brad can talk. Be there soonest." He pointed down the hall the way we'd
come in.
George turned, but Kevin stopped. "Just a sec," he said, then looked at
me. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I know when I owe. You the most but as
much to your wife. I've stepped in something here tonight that ought to've
disintegrated me if it had unfolded any other way. I see that I'm still standing. I'm
grateful, will live up to your faith in me, and when not if things get settled there's
gonna be one damn hard-working wolf in your dance studio." His eyes flicked
over to Derrick. "And after she's gotten me all sweaty y' know I'm gonna need a
bath."
Last word; certainly Derrick was unable to say anything to that. Then
Kevin and George walked away. For somebody without training he did a
surprisingly good job of flirting that tail. Add wolf to the little list; not bad either.
"I think that went well. Might just have a natural there," I murmured
sideways to Jamati. "Needs more hips, but yeah," Jamati murmured back.
Wolf and raccoon turned the corner, and they were gone. It was over.
And Id gotten away with it. On top of that, I had a naked beautiful
tigress in my arms. No other word came to mind but, phew. Just phew.
About all that needs to be said. Maybe worth saying one last time.
Phew.

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