Carvedinstone's Saga - 02 / 02 / 2120

Carvedinstone's Saga
02 / 02 / 2120 F.A.

The great lump of fur in the bed behind me began to snore. Her body was hot, one great arm wrapped around me. I waited a few more minutes, to make sure the narcotic honey had well and truly knocked her out before I slipped out of the bed.

Beornings were the most common of the skin-changers. Many didn't like the sprawls. Too many smells, too many legal ramifications if they lost their temper. Their advantages in combat had diminished after the introduction of firearms, and even more when combat cyberware became more common among the gangs. Bears weren't bulletproof or bladeproof, after all. Shape-changers had difficulty with augmentation; while they could put things in their bodies—shoot a Beorning and the bear still has a bullet in them—getting a neural jack wasn't a good idea when your skull changes shape.

Still, they were strong, hard to kill, and had enhanced senses. Good for police work. The fact that they tended to be cyber-virgins and with limited tech savvy made them the perfect marks. It had taken me months to find a Beorning with enough access and a taste for sex worker, and weeks of regular liaisons to get into this position.

I'd had Quillian Daleman's tongue in every hole. Shivered as her fangs brushed my labia. Squealed and squirmed like some brain-dead slut on her fingers, knowing that any wrong move could see her turn and tear me apart. It was a delicate dance, and Daleman seemed to enjoy both the scent of my fear and the fact that I didn't back away when she went ursine. She'd never asked why; and I'd never volunteered.

Deep down in the depths of the holds, there were lovers far less human than a skin-changer.

Naked, I knelt down by the bed. Quillian's phone was laid carelessly on the plastic crate that served as an end table. I pulled the false tip off one of my braids. The other end of the disguised cord was plugged into my neural jack, hidden by my hair. The plug slid into the base of Quillian's phone with a soft click.

They had to cut out the base of my skull to make room for the cyberdeck. Benefits of miniaturization. I didn't need to carry around anything obvious when I needed to crack something. With a thought, I my avatar was there, in the phone. Standard police Intrusion Countermeasures manifested before me, a guard in the old Gondor armor of two thousand years ago.

What comes down but never comes up?

"Rain," I answered. Too easy. The same default password on every cop's phone. Quillian should have changed it.

I pushed past the guard into the simple interface of the phone. My goal was Quillian's access code, which would get me into the police network, but I copied everything to my hardware memory. Phone numbers, case files, reports filed, a file of pornographic photos and videos. I sweated each microsecond the files took to transfer. The narcotic honey wouldn't last long, but I didn't need it to.

As soon as the last pulse of data was transferred, I did a quick clean-up to hide my intrusion, then unplugged and slipped the cap back in place. I took a deep breath. Mission complete. Still on my hands and knees I peeked over the edge of the bed...to see Quillian's rear legs spread, the bear pussy a wet matte of fur.

Quillian yawned. She scratched herself, and shrank. The transition was always jarring. One moment, I was staring at a bear pussy, the next a hirisute but very human vagina. She blinked sleepily, and smiled. Still in a good mood.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I thought I'd grab a shower," I said.

The detective didn't bother to close her legs. She reached down and scratched her furry cunny. Her brown eyes were focused on me. The Beorning could smell lies.

"Later," she said. "Come up here. Lick me for a while. I paid for all night."

She had. So I did. Crawled up onto the bed on all fours, my dark breasts hanging down, braids spilling out all over as I traveled a path I had been down many times before. There was a calculated sneer in Quillian's eyes as I obediently bent my head down to lick at her hot little slit. My tongue twirled around her clit, and the hairy bush was wet against my face as I let my tongue trail down further and pushed it into that hot slit.

I ate her pussy like my life depended on it. Because it did.