An original story that was inspired by a comic strip at pholph.com. I know~ Not fanfiction. At least give it a chance. xD

Revised: Edited the story by adding more smut and refining some of the previous smut. It's now +1 ;3

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Officer Smith

The wolf shuddered, a chilling wind gusting through the office as he sat at his desk. He managed to finish today's paperwork and was now going over the evidence for a particularly troubling case that was about to go cold if no new evidence were brought forward. Mr. Chase Smith was a fairly successful police officer; he had a powerful look to him, being a pure blood wolf with parents who owned most of the city gyms. His body was chiseled nearly to perfection with big, round, muscular arms covered in grey fur, he had a black tribal tattoo down his right arm which showed through his black fur. His chest and shoulders were broad and pronounced, each breath looking like it took twice the effort of a smaller built man. His tail was thick and powerful as it drooped down the backside of the office chair through his pants. Smith wore the standard uniform with the t-shirt top, he liked to keep his tattoo exposed, what was the point of getting one anyway if you're just gonna wear a sweater all day? His legs were as finely built as his arms and he didn't mind admiring his own ass in the mirror every now and then either.

Aside from his imposing demeanor and powerful look the wolf's main reason for success was his ability to process and control his emotions. It was a big part of being a cop; not letting the day-to-day grind wear down on you. When he needed to unwind he'd go to a club or bar and relax the night away. No one would ever recognize such a clean cut cop out of uniform anyway except certain regular offenders. Smith let out a long sigh, stretching his limbs, the chair creaking under him as the cheap plastic struggled to hold his weight. Smith was very focused on this case now more then ever, he hated watching them go cold. It felt like losing and he never lost. Not in his grades during high school, nor in sports, nor in the showers after sports, he was hung and proud of it. Some times he wondered if he could make a side job out of being a cop stripper but decided against it in case he had to actually apprehend one of his clients. He didn't like the idea of his role being compromised over something silly like that.

Smith shook his head and returned to staring at the evidence, scene reports and his hypothesis chart. The perpetrator was a serial killer and rapist, kidnapping his victims and holding them as prisoners for days, some times weeks before they would disappear and then be found dead in a river. No evidence was ever found on the bodies, he was very thorough in cleaning up. Smith was glad this kind of stuff never bothered him, the things people would due to other living things was maddeningly sick. This murderer was leaving subtle clues everywhere in each case though, seemingly edging the police on every time he finished with another victim.

The perpetrator seemed to target females at first as if experimenting with what he was capable of doing. Then he would gradually target more powerful victims, working his way up from generally weaker females to athletic ones, then ones that would have training in some form of defence. Each time leaving their bodies with a form of ID that checked out. Then he started targeting males as well as females, not just regular males but the kind you try to avoid for fear of being cut in a subway station. There have been 8 bodies found so far and the press was quick to remind them every step of the way that they still didn't even know whether they were male or female, feline or equine.

Smith was getting close though, he could feel it and he would be damned if he was going to let this case go cold. He checked the date on it, "Damn it!" he muttered, noticing it would go cold Friday, it was already Monday. The sun was setting and Monday was almost over, he would have to take his hypothesis and run with it tonight then hope he can stir up some more evidence to review tomorrow. He snagged his hat from his desk, plopping it onto his head and logged out of his computer before leaving his cubicle. His partner left to go help with another drug raid. There was no threat so they just needed the manpower to ensure no one escaped, those damn cheetahs could really run if you didn't fire the taser off fast enough. He hopped into his cruiser and took off outta the lot, heading to a quiet residential area. The living conditions were unsanitary so the only people who lived here were the ones who couldn't afford to live on the streets but also couldn't afford an inner city apartment either.

The last body that was found was a rottweilers corpse, male and was apparently a talented wrestler at the nearby gym. He actually was born into old money and lived a sheltered life, thus the killer's challenge of getting to him. Smith thought it was weird to leave a body in the ditch this time then to drop it in one of the rivers that run through the city. The nearby inhabitants were questioned thoroughly and nothing suspicious came of it of course, but no one bothered to look again because they all knew how good the killer was at cleaning up his tracks, thus why Smith decided to see if he could stir any new evidence up by asking around.

The first house he came to looked dilapidated; it used to be a bright yellow, two story house with white trim and a deck on the second floor. Now the deck was scattered across the front lawn, he was pretty sure the front end no longer had a roof and the way the right end appeared to be caving in it looked like it would give way at any time. Nonetheless there was a statement here from this house, so someone lived here.

Smith climbed out of his cruiser and stretched a little, he hadn't had time with work being so busy to go to the gym lately so his muscles were getting a little stiff. He casually strode up to the front door, which had a screen door loosely hanging off one corner. He pulled it open carefully and was glad it didn't break off, last thing they needed was another lawsuit over something stupid. He heard shuffling from within the house almost instantly, heavy clomping on hardwood floor. He looked at the report and noted the resident was a male deer, the buck's name was Ronald Baxter. Nothing noteworthy about him, Smith just thought he had to start somewhere.

The wolf knocked on the door and heard more clomping inside the house before the weak wood flew open and a large buck strode up to the wolf with a sour look on his face, like he just interrupted a thrilling movie. Smith smiled and greeted the buck who, now that he noticed was even taller then himself. The buck had a thick rack of what one would call antlers but they almost looked unreal. Ronald's physique was even more intimidating then the wolf's, both at the peak of muscle mass for their species. Yet while the wolf had a clean, short haircut and uniform, the buck wore nothing but a pair of baggy cotton shorts one might wear to the gym. Leaving his cream furred belly and brown furred everything else exposed for all to see, obviously very proud.

The buck snorted, "Yeah?", in response to the wolf's formal greeting. Smith already didn't like the guy, he was too close and wasn't giving him any room. It was different from the punk kids who wanted to pick a fight they knew you knew they couldn't win. They knew you'd hold back in the end and they'd get it outta their system. This guy seemed to be invading his personal space simply because the space was there.

Smith told Ronald the story in case he didn't know, how he was trying to collect information without hinting in anyway the buck could be a possible suspect. Despite his strength and confidence he didn't appear to be too bright. That didn't mean he wasn't guilty, just meant there could be more than one person involved, he realized. They had a nice chat after the buck led them to the "living room" which appeared to be one of the two downstairs rooms with a roof over it. He sat down on the side of the couch that wasn't cut up with springs poking out of it and the buck sat down in the comfortable looking chair. The buck sat back with his legs spread while the wolf sat hunched forward with his arms on his legs, holding him up for fear of being poked in the back by another spring. Ronald didn't seem to mind that some time while they were talking his flaccid member had shifted and was resting against his inner thigh, the only reason Smith even knew in the first place was because the strange blackness coming out of his shorts before realizing it was the buck's cock.

Smith was having a hard time concentrating but managed to play it off well, the buck seemed none the wiser. He lied and excused himself, asking to use the bathroom before he left, noting nothing suspicious about the buck but would monitor for any accomplices. While in the bathroom he could hear the buck outside clomping into the kitchen, making sure to take careful note of any other noises. He only heard the buck turning on the water, it wasn't loud enough to block out the sound of his heavy steps though. Smith reached into his pocket and took out his bug; flushing the toilet and turning the sink on, watching some foul water spill out as he turned to the cubicle shower and took the head. He unscrewed the cap and placed the bug tightly against the metal before applying the cap and putting it back in place.

Looking in the mirror he sighed, the buck was just as strong as him, if not stronger. Plus his maleness was huge, even while flaccid it had to be at least 5 inches long. Smith was very good at identifying his emotions, and he knew he felt intimidated by the other male. Thankfully he was dumb as a rock though so he at least felt superior in that sense. Smith stared at himself in the mirror a moment longer; turning off the water he heard a strange noise he couldn't quite place his finger on. It sounded like a gas leak or something; saw something in the reflection, like a wave of heat when one stares across the pavement of a road on a hot sunny day.

Smith's eyes widened and he checked under the sink not very gracefully to find a strange apparatus hooked up to the sinks plumbing. How strange, he thought, his mind beginning to feel muddled and slow like molasses. His vision going blurry he made out a couple of cylinders hooked up to the pipes, looking like they were triggered by the water turning on. His knees gave out under him and he cursed as his chin connected with the harder, jagged counter top and he couldn't feel it. Realizing just now the situation he was in, gripping the counter tightly, trying to pull himself up quite unsuccessfully he whimpered as the door smashed in. The buck was wearing a mask and staring down at the wolf, then he fell backwards, losing consciousness as the buck swooped down on him with an unnatural speed.

Smith was sure he was dead, he didn't need to remember how he got where he was right now. As he regained consciousness he realized his paws were cuffed behind him, most likely with his own cuffs and he couldn't feel the weight of his holsters on his belt. His experience and training taught him that in this kind of situation it was best to detach yourself from the situation. Open your eyes and realize you're not tied to a chair in someones basement, there isn't a single light beaming down on you and waving back and forth slowly from the chilly wind outside. You're not about to be murdered by the guy you were chasing down. Smith was at home right now, on his couch after a hard work out lamenting on browsing one of the many hookup sites for a quick bit of fun out in the city with a civilian.

Oh no wait, he was in that buck's basement, he realized, unable to bring himself out of the moment as the solid metallic handle of his own gun came crashing down on the side of his head. The coppery taste of blood filling his muzzle as he struggled against the powerful cuffs, unable to break them Smith tried to focus his now blurry vision on the floor, noticing he was still fully clothed and his ankles were duct taped to the chair, which was surprisingly sturdy.

The buck spoke first as the wolf tried to recollect himself, dropping the gun onto a nearby table with a clunk, "You're officer, Smith. I heard from a reliable source that you're the only cop left trying to track me down before my case goes cold.", Ronald was speaking with such clarity now, no longer a hint of a ghetto accent in his voice at all. This surprised Smith greatly, now apparently he was also dealing with a serial killing intellectual with a knack for engineering and chemistry from what he remembered in the bathroom.

When Smith didn't respond Ronald went on, "Now that you know who I really am you can call me Ron, pup. The others would often call me Daddy or Master too, if you'd like. I find those names pleasing and if you want to live, you should be trying to please me." to which Smith responded by spitting the accumulating blood in his muzzle on the floor and glancing up at the buck, meeting his stone cold stare. Finding his gaze drifting in an attempt to avoid it, "You don't exactly have a habit of letting your victims go, I think I'll take my chances and keep my dignity." he chuckled raggedly as he pulled himself upright in the chair, grunting at the ache in his back.

The buck chuckled and smiled, his soft brown eyes never leaving those wolf eyes as he watched them dance around, "I never let my prey go, pup. You'll live for as long as you please me..." he leaned in close, real close, the only reason Smith didn't snap at him was because he knew it would do no good... right? Then the buck was whispering into his ear, "I'll kill you when you stop pleasing me, just like the rest too, you know." he said softly, making the wolf shudder. Ron strode around the wolf, each powerful step making a clopping noise, reminding him he was bested by preyfur again and again, his chest fur was quite sweaty, it was dripping off him and the scent of the male's musk was flooding the basement, making the wolf shift and squirm in discomfort, "When you die, then I'll be completely scott free! They'll reopen the case for a little while longer when they find your body sure but we both know none of them will ever get as close as you have to catching me.", the wolf could feel one of the buck's powerful hands resting on his shoulder now, kneading the powerful muscles under his uniform with an uneasy gentleness, "So even though you may be willing to die with your dignity intact, are you really willing to let me get away with killing all those people, and you? I'm going to win one way or another, you know that right?"

Smith's eyes widened at the buck's words briefly and he was thankful the man was behind him and couldn't see. Despite how sick it was, he desperately wanted to believe someone else was capable of stopping Ronald Baxter after he was gone so that he could die with his dignity. However the buck was right, he got so close and sadly it was because he got lucky a lot of the time with clues and hunches that his prey most likely left behind on purpose. No one would be able to stop him, the case would go cold and unless someone else got lucky he would go to his grave having beaten the wolf. Smith closed his eyes and thought long and hard as the buck allowed for complete silence, his powerful paw resting on the subdued cop's shoulder before the wolf came to his conclusion. He knew from experience that kidnapped individuals develop Stockholm syndrome and then proud kidnappers will sometimes allow their kidnapped to go free, sadly most of the time the kidnapped will not betray their trust by then and the case goes unreported like the kidnapper planned. He vowed at that moment he would earn the buck's trust and prove he was at least mentally superior when his prey got sloppy he would escape and bring him in! ... He let out a sigh and a pitiful sounding whine before leaning over and licking gently at the sneering buck's paw, "Good pup" Ron chuckled.

For the next few weeks "pup", as Chase Smith was hereby referred to did his best acting ever. Meaning he did his best to show reluctance while also showing obedience to his kidnapper who was as careful as ever in allowing any form of freedoms. Sometimes reluctance was very easy to show, like the first night the buck wanted sex from his pup. Smith being a virgin back there made it quite painful, the only reason Ron bothered with lube at all was apparently because he didn't want to get rug burn on his dick. There was also the fact that the buck was incredibly hung, owner of an impressive 5 inch cock while flaccid and 12.5 inch cock while hard. The buck made its length very clear to the wolf every night after that, if one were to approach the house it would not be hard to clearly make out the sloppy sounds of their rutting. The pup didn't have to act like he wasn't enjoying it at all; his cock would simply not grow hard due to the sheer pain of his insides being rearranged and his tail hole tearing to accept such a thick monster inside. The wolf was also ashamed of himself, letting his prey, a buck no less, beat him and literally drill that fact into him every night. However unlike most rapists this did not seem to faze the buck at all, he didn't try to help the wolf enjoy it, nor did he make it any easier on him then the buck needed to get what he wanted.

It was difficult to show the right amount of obedience however, trying to make it look like was developing Stockholm syndrome just perfectly. This was also difficult when you weren't allowed to change out of your police uniform. Ron simply tore away at the tail exit in his pants and would fuck him right in his uniform, still tied to the chair, which he would push the wolf down onto his face to expose his rump in the first place. He would be fed by the buck twice a day; the buck would chew his food and then spit it into his mouth. This is where it got hard to show obedience in, being able to be disgusted at first but now that a few weeks had gone by he would have to appear as if it didn't bother him at all. The sheer helplessness of it was also starting to get to the pup, not being able to eat his own food on his own. The sincerity of his obedience was growing with each passing day as his hunger grew, even willingly making out with the buck a few times for a few more mouthfuls of food, he barely noticed the act as anything unusual.

Smith made a vow however to get out of this alive and bring this psycho to justice. It was even starting to pay off! One night the buck untied him from the chair and didn't tie him back down, (He had to go to the bathroom every now and then after all) he would be bent over the now empty table where his gun used to be and bred roughly with his paws still cuffed behind his back and it didn't hurt as much anymore! The pup didn't know it but after a couple weeks of being raped and getting adjusted his tail would start to wag while he was lying on his stomach over the table, the buck's meat pumping into his grey furred ass. The buck was stronger than him, so even with his feet free his chances of escape were too slim to risk his life over yet. Once the buck had finished pumping the wolf's insides with his seed, he'd collar his pup down to the spike in the floor with scratch and blood marks around it. No pulling that out with sheer strength, he sighed.

The worst part was that he was really going to have to start showing signs of enjoying the rape each night if he was going to pull off the Stockholm act. Smith had no idea how he would be able to pull it off however finally, after what felt like months, he decided it was time, tonight he would find a way to get off on it. True he wasn't really a bottom "type" of guy but it's not like he's new to it anymore. In fact, through the day, while thinking about what was to come he started to entertain the idea of honestly giving in a few times. If he found a way to enjoy it... would he be able to stop himself, after all? Would he become prey bitch if he could get off on it? The buck was a murderer but he was smarter, stronger and even more endowed then the wolf... no, he has to think rationally right now! ...He originally rationalized his inability to enjoy it coming from him being a total top, but now that he thought about it he was starting to realize that he couldn't enjoy it because the only thing he could think about every night was how a murdering psychopath's cock was shooting hot spunk up his ass and he had to take it.

Maybe if he focused on the actual buck raping him, he could learn to enjoy it, he shuddered at the thought of becoming a prey's bitch, his dirty pants oddly tight. It's not like anyone would ever really know as long as he didn't tell anyone. He could barely finish his thought process before he heard the familiar clopping noise upstairs, he always had supper first. Then brought his scraps down to pre-chew for his pup, next he was unchained and brought over to the table, flagging his own now dirtied tail up to expose his rump to the cool air. His grey fur crusted with dried buck seed, then he'd receive his nightly spanking, which Smith was grateful for, a secret shame of his was that he liked to be spanked. However he never found anyone he was comfortable doing it with, so this was kind of perfect, not only that but it helped move his Stockholm act further along faster.

For the first time Smith looked back over his shoulder at Ronald Baxter, the buck was damn fine and he had gotten used to the buck's powerful musk. He actually came to enjoy it once he tried his hardest to temporarily forget about what the buck was actually capable of. Smith focused his hardest on how powerful the buck was, watching his muscles ripple under his fine fur as he brought his paw down on the wolf's bare rump as hard as he could. Letting out a whimpery yowl more and more as his rump bruised, becoming tender. It wasn't enough though to be strong, and then he thought about how the buck was actually quite intelligent, trapping him like this by pretending to be another thug and knocking him out with a drug in some kind of sophisticated trap. The wolf's gaze travelling up the buck's body to his face, seeing the buck's soft gaze for the first time and averting his own, blushing, actually blushing!

Normally the buck was very quiet during their time spent together, allowing as much time as possible for the wolf to ponder whatever it is a kidnapped wolf cop might ponder. He piped up though as he finished spanking the naughty pup, "Don't need these anymore..." and the wolf heard a soft clink and felt the metal around his wrists slip off. Eyes looking back up in curious wonder at the buck, searching if the buck meant he was going to die now or if he'd finally earned even more trust. He got his answer in the form of a crude thrust of the buck's still covered hips against his bare rump.

The wolf grunted, it was now or never, he needed to get hard fast or else Ron would neve- wait a minute... he blushed deeply and his ears pinned back, exposed as his hat fell off from the force of the thrust. He could feel his cock, hard as ever and pressing tightly against the crotch of his pants. As if reading his thoughts he felt the buck's experimenting paw dip between his legs as he grinded against the wolf's ass. Unzipping his pants playfully and slowly reaching into the fly of his pants, gripping onto his meat firmly he the wolf never resisted despite being unrestrained now, accepting his molestation quietly he heard a soft chuckle behind him. The buck pulled out his meat and let it go, the pup could feel it bobbing up and down from the force of the buck's humping, and he could feel the metal of the zipper on his sheath as his knot slowly inflated.

Smith realized that if he focused on how inferior he was to this monster of a male he would be able to enjoy submitting to him more readily. He really did feel like a pup compared to this male, he began to pant when he heard the buck's voice and felt his hot breath against his ear, "It's okay to enjoy it. It's natural for a wolf like you to enjoy his proper place under a real male." he said, this time there was no snide tone but rather fact. As if it was now okay for him to give in and he became the prey bitch the buck originally wanted when he started hunting for the wolf.

Both sides of Smith's consciousness gave in quite willingly, the side that wanted freedom because now Stockholm syndrome was completely believable and now he was just that closer to freedom. The other side gave in because now he was really starting to enjoy those powerful hips slamming into his. Giving the superior male pleasure with his body turned the wolf on like nothing ever had before. It was better than breeding a hot piece of ass or solving what others considered an unsolvable case. Smith's body belonged to someone else right now, someone he wasn't ashamed to admit to either, he was this prey's bitch and loving it, tail wagging like the eager bottom he was. He could feel the buck's power through the meat slamming into him and the firm paw around his insignificant length, holding firmly.

The pup in a cop's uniform was in heaven, his alpha's paws were gripping his belt tightly and their hips were slapping together wetly. Ron kept a firm grip, yet he didn't need to, each thrust met by a willing and hungry tail hole of the pup that was thrusting back against him with a wet slap of flesh on flesh. The buck snorted and moaned, clomping his foot to the concrete floor, he must really be getting into it, understanding how that his conquest would soon be over. Instead of shame this only brought Smith more pleasure as he knew he was giving this great man true pleasure with his own body. The buck's thrusts started to become rough and erratic though, he even spat on the pup's face. The pup barely noticing it, his eyes focused somewhere far away, even as it rolled across his cheek and eye. His tongue lolled out as he panted heavily, letting out weak whimpers and moans before yelping as his alpha thrust hard and dumped another hot, sticky load of deer cum inside him.

Time passed but Ron wasn't quick to trust the now willing wolf, like all his victims he made sure to test the waters every few nights with some unusual abuse of some kind. Usually just a beating or something humiliating to see if his bitch will react, however; he never did no matter how hard Ron got with his abuse. Smith would take it as quietly as one can and then return to worshiping the buck's offered paw or hoof with his tongue or quietly gulp down his pre-chewed food. Ronald decided by the end of their first month together the former Officer Smith was either extremely dedicated or finally broken. His pup was quite surprised, as all his victims were to learn they'd been gone for just a month, or less, but the pup did not seem insulted or ashamed, merely impressed at how persuasive his new alpha could be. Suddenly his living room was a lot more comfortable for the wolf as he was untied and brought upstairs. He stank of piss, cum and sweat, none of which were his scents, and his uniform needed to be replaced.

Before the pup was allowed to leave though he was given a list of chores, instructed to clean the house up and make the buck supper. He did such a good job his alpha even deemed him worthy of some new clothes and a shower, offering him a new pair of stolen sweats when he finished. They didn't stay new for long however, the minute the buck had finished his dinner he was already on the wolf again. Tugging his sweats down and slamming every inch into the wolf while commanding him to finish the dishes before he finishes or else the wolf would receive another beating. The bitch was panting furiously as he was bent over the kitchen sink, it was very difficult to scrub and rinse the dishes very well when such a virile male bred you after all. In the end he had to give in and brace himself against the counter, shuddering as a wet trail of wolf seed dribbled down the leg of his pants. The buck groaned and spanked the wolf hard as the kitchen echoed the lewd sounds of their rutting. Shuddering and grinding so hard into the wolf his feet would leave the ground a few times as his tight lupine hole stretched wide around that thick member.

The pup accepted his punishment which earned him a bruised and cut rump, and then finished the dishes promptly before he was given specific instructions. His alpha had called in and with his voice had managed to get the pup the month off for a vacation while he was in the bathroom when they first met. Now his vacation was over and it was time to go back to his daily routine, except tonight he would go to work, still wearing his dirty sweats while hopefully no one was around and delete any evidence he might have on any cold case files. Then he was to go home with his alpha that would drive him to and from work from now on as one of his "best friends" from home if anyone asked. The pup would fill him in on any updates about his case should any new evidence be brought forward and hinder anyone's attempts to catch his alpha, like a good pup.

Then he was finally freed, it was night time and he was standing outside the nearly dilapidated house as his alpha pulled his car around front, there were no bindings, no weapons and no drugs to subdue the wolf now. Yet he still had this strange sense of servitude to the male who proved he was superior in every way and owned the wolf. Did he really have the right to abandon the other male, to just leave without asking him first? He honestly didn't know anymore and the wolf stared as he saw a cop car driving by in the distance, he watched as a distant part of himself called out to chase them, get help, something! Suddenly there was his car, and the buck opened the passenger side door from inside, patting the passenger seat. Smith watched the other cop car turn a corner and disappear and then he got into the car with his new alpha.  The prey bitch did not resist when the buck reached over on the way to work and gripped the back of his head and held him where anyone could see. Nor when he pulled the pup's muzzle down onto his cock for all to see, the pup did not even resist when it was forced down his throat and he struggled to breathe as they came to a stop on the side of the road, thugs staring in at the cop they used to know gagging on the buck they knew not to mess with. He knew this male would take care of him as long as he continued to please, and the prey bitch wagged his tail as he began to slobber over the male's thick buck meat while a couple young thugs watched from the sidewalk.