Judy shouldn’t be doing this. As the first rabbit officer of the Zootopia Police Department and a decorated hero after uncovering a terrible conspiracy and putting Bellweather behind bars, she had a reputation to uphold. And yet, here she was. Her tight dark blue standard-issue pants lay crumpled around her ankles, exposing her bare pussy to the crude hole cut into the flimsy plywood wall, sawn edges padded by several layers of dirty ducktape. Judy covered her mouth with a paw, muffling her passionate groaning as the stranger’s thick cock pistoned through the hole, squelching against her heated folds with every firm thrust. The wall creaked against his weight. He was desperate. Judy wondered what kind of man he was, what type of person visited a shameful hole in the wall in the worst parts of town to get their rocks off. She wondered what kind of woman that made her.
    The only thing Judy knew about the stranger was that he was a pig. She had plenty of time to acquaint herself with his corkscrew-shaped dick and fat musky balls when she was kneeling in front of the hole, letting him rub his dribbling tip all over her twitching nose, smearing her face with pungent precum while she kissed and licked his heavy sack. That was how nights in The Booth usually went. Judy, kneeling on the pads of her patrol pants, rolling her dainty pink pawbeans over her swollen clit while she polished the stiff cocks of exotic strangers with her smooth little tongue until they filled her waiting mouth with a hot pool of pearly spunk or glazed her submissive face from snout to ears, forcing her to carry their lingering scent home like a sordid badge of honour. A bunny in heat needed release, and fantasy didn’t cut it; Judy wanted the real thing. But there was something else. Judy had an open legs policy that, if a daring stranger asked her for something else, she would stand up, bend over, and present her pretty pink pussy to the open hole. After asking them to rubber up, of course.

    Judy’s knees almost buckled as the pig’s tip spiralled against her womb. He was so long, so filling, the corkscrew shaft dragging against her tight walls in a way she’d never experienced before. Trying everything had its benefits. She silenced herself again, clamping her fingers over her mouth and nose, paw still sticky with pre from when she’d stroked him to full mast. The wall creaked louder, faster, harder, the stranger’s body bashing against it as he picked up the pace. Every vicious thrust slapped his fat grapefruit-sized ballsack against her tiny mound hard enough to draw a squeak from the back of her throat.
    “Let it out.” The stranger grunted. He was panting, wheezing, almost out of breath. “Let it all out.” Judy wondered if he was out of shape or just that horny. She drew her paw away and let it out, her high pitched moans quickly filling the booth. “There we go, Nighthowler.” Judy’s nickname made her face redden and her cottontail twitch. Nobody knew who the girl in the booth was. Rumours ran rampant. There were a lot of bunnies in Zootopia; who would suspect her? Nighthowler. It was probably because of the noise. Even with a paw over her mouth, Judy had always been terrible at holding back her inner self. A rabbit in heat could hardly hold back. “Good girl.” The stranger growled. He was close now; Judy could hear it in the wet rasp of his voice. “That’s cute.”
    “C-Carrots.” Judy whimpered, her cottontail twitching as a tingle danced up her spine. Her pussy gripped tighter, squeezing the coils of that porcine cock as it speared into her depths. She was so wet. It sloshed out of her splayed folds, spattered her thighs and soaked her fur. Why did being called cute turn her on so much? It was so bad. She wasn’t supposed to be cute. Her paw slid down over her washboard chest, still covered by her blue ZPD shirt, the golden badge pinned above her right breast. Sex in uniform. She shouldn’t do it, but it felt so good, serving Zootopia in a totally different way.

A firm knock on the wall made Judy shiver, biting her lip with her prominent front teeth. “Oh, c-carrots.” Judy whined under her breath, barely able to speak. He was pounding her, the flimsy wall straining to stay up as the pig banged against it. She could feel his tip in her belly, in the fur beneath her shirt, each time he stuffed himself balls deep! Her paw descended even further, running over the wet fluff of her mound. He was going to cum; she was going to make him cum. Another happy customer to add to the dozens pencilled onto the wall. “D-do it! Cum!” Judy cried. Now it was her turn! “L-let it all out!” Her slick tunnel clenched around him, her fingertips sliding against her swollen clit, putting a tremble into her parted thighs. She rocked her head back, squeezed her eyes shut, let her shuddering moans rise an octave and overtake her very breath. He only grunted in response, already railing her as hard as he could muster.
	Judy’s fingers slipped further back, over her clit, through her folds, rubbing against the dick plunged into her drooling cunt. Musky precum dribbled over her pawpads as they slipped against flesh stuffing her pussy, the bare pointed tip corkscrew cock kissing against her heated womb, meaty shaft throbbing against her milking walls. Judy froze. No condom. Her eyes widened as she distinctly remembered telling him to rubber up, right before she dropped her pants, pressed her pussy up to the gloryhole, and parted her folds with two eager digits. “C-Carrots,” she cursed, a cascade of viscous pearlescent-white slime spilling from her hole and splashing over her twitching fingers, “F-Fuck.” His balls were beating as fast as her heart, pulsating and churning as he filled her helpless womb with his virile cum.
	Wave after wave of hot fluid poured into her, enough to paint the inside of her clenching fuckhole a dozen times over. The steaming excess streamed over and between her trembling fingers, spilt down her thighs, and puddled in the pants scrunched between her quivering ankles. He didn’t even try to pull out, relishing his fantasy, unknowingly using the most respected rabbit in Zootopia as his personal piggy bank. Judy stumbled forwards, tripping over her tangled pants. In the moments it took Judy to pull away, it felt like his fat balls had already flooded her cunt with a quart of warm sticky cum. She landed on her knees with a firm thud and keeled forwards, pussy spitting thick drools of spunk as the blinding orgasm rolled through her tight tunnel, up her quaking body, and along the base of her lowered neck. Judy had never been more aroused. More fresh spunk showered from the pig’s still spurting cock, staining her shirt and fur. Judy couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t do anything but think about the sperm inside her tackling her eggs, leaving her with plenty of questions to answer. She shuddered and squeaked, thighs tightening as she showered the floor with a mix of rabbit and pig juices, filling the stall with the bestial stench of breeding.

When her chattering jaw finally unclenched and the overwhelming shaking ceased, Judy finally struggled her head up and glanced back to the hole, the only remains of its former occupant were the musky streaks oozing down the wall like spilt wood glue and a crumpled $20 Terran bill pushed through the hole, cute scrawled across its face in marker pen. Judy shivered and wiped her face, only adding another streak of spunk to her already messy cheeks. Maybe that was enough sex for this week.
    Next week, though? 
	Judy couldn’t make any promises.