[b][u][center]Psionic Investigations Unit Epilogue For DuskCypher By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b] “Goddamn office politics…” Kennedy knew that he wouldn’t have been able to hold onto the title of Commissioner forever – even the higher-ups had made it clear that this was a temporary appointment, at best – but he had hoped that it would be transferable to another part of the PIU. At the very least, he should have gotten the chance to get a bonus for giving up the position when it came time. But nooooo. Instead of some dignified ceremony where he got to give up his position with a speech and a bit of a hurrah for what he’d done, he’d been met by unit security, given a letter from the higher-ups, and then told to get the hell out. He had five minutes to get everything that he wanted from his office, and then he would be escorted from the building. The rabbit moved quickly, stuffing item after item into a box, some of which weren’t actually his, but he felt some claim for. [i]Used that laptop every day for my entire time here…used that pen for so many orders…had a good time with that laser pointer…[/i] Admittedly, they were petty claims, at best, but it was better than nothing, and it was some small vengeance against the group as a whole for canning him like this. It wasn’t even his fault. He had been the one in charge of the operation, that much was true, but that didn’t mean that he was completely at fault for what had happened. D had been a loose cannon, operating outside the bounds of protocol, and his partner hadn’t been much better. M’s loss was a tragedy, but it was hardly his fault. If they’d just stuck together… If they’d just followed procedure… If they just let him know what the fuck was going on… Any and all of those things might have changed the outcome of what had happened yesterday, but it was too late now. He was all but fired, with the ‘resignation’ letter on his desk signed in a style that was most definitely not him. But who was going to question it, really? He didn’t exactly have office loyalty on his side. “One minutes, rabbit,” one of the Dobermans said. Rabbit. One minute Commissioner, the next, rabbit. He gritted his teeth and got back to packing. One minute and two seconds later, the canines grabbed him under his arms and frog-marched him out of the office and into the hallway. The long stretch of corridor extended out into nothingness in one direction, and to a door that seemed impossibly close in the other. It was another example of the weirdness of PIU headquarters. The higher-ups kept the long hallway to their places particularly well-stretched to discourage anyone from coming to them for anything short of desperately important, while the door out – One step, and he was through. It didn’t matter that it would have taken him a hundred steps to get to his office from the front door. On the way out, everyone was hurried through, pushed along, exited from the building. He glared over his shoulder at the canines in the doorway, tossed his head back, and made his way for the taxi that was waiting for him. Everyone had a taxi; it was part of the departure process. As Kennedy reached the bottom step of the agency building, however, he found himself face to face with someone that was more silhouette than they were person. An astral projection, he realized, someone from higher-up controlling the car from afar. He managed to clear his throat as he got in the back seat, pulling his seat belt on as the taxi pulled away. “You understand our circumstances, we trust,” the astral projection said. The voice was rather dull, something that felt dead and hollow rather than alive. Kennedy told himself that it was because the voice was being projected from who knew how far away, but that didn’t do much to make him feel better about it. He just nodded. “Good.” “…” “You are allowed to speak.” “Will there be…discipline hearings for D?” he asked. “There will be.” “…And for –” “Your punishment has already been decided.” “I figured.” He bit off the growl. Under the higher-ups, nobody dared actually say something stupid. Even as angry as he was, he knew better than to say something that would get him in the deep shit. He wasn’t one of those Nullifiers that could just say something stupid to someone with power and then stand up to it. If he said something, if he got the bosses angry, then he was going to be worse than fired. “Your retirement fund has been dispensed to your account,” the silhouette in the front said. “You will not lack for money.” “Thanks.” “It is merely procedure.” In other words, they would have let him go without that if they could get away with it. Of course they would. Office politics. The operation had gone tits-up, and he was the one that they were using for the scapegoat. Well, screw them for that. He didn’t want to be there anymore, anyway, and he was sure that there was a replacement job that he could fill somewhere else. Somewhere better than this. Somewhere that actually appreciated his skills. Kennedy looked out the window, though, and couldn’t help but bite his lip as he imagined what would happen to him in the future. When the break-out had happened, he hadn’t immediately registered the fuckery that it represented. Now that he’d had twenty-four hours to think it through, however, he was aware that there were a dozen high-power Psionics that were just wandering around the city. They could go after anyone, and each one was powerful enough that they could probably level a city block in a fight. They were going to lie low for a while, sure, but that didn’t mean that they were going to play nice if they were found. Or that they weren’t going to go after vulnerable individuals. “I don’t suppose I get a bodyguard?” he asked. “No.” “But I have valuable information. What if someone grabs me?” “We’ll know.” “But nobody will –” “We will know. And we will deal with it.” The menace in that voice sent a chill down his spine, particularly since it left what they’d do so vague. Somehow, he doubted that it meant that they’d send rescue. More than likely, they’d just wipe his brain from a distance and call it a day. [i]Oh boy…oh boy…[/i] The taxi ride didn’t go much further than that. They reached his house, a little place on the edge of the city, and the door opened, untouched by him or the driver. The rabbit looked out, then back at the silhouette. “Get out.” “…Yes, sir.” “And good luck.” There was almost a bit of smarminess to that, but Kennedy managed to keep from biting back. If they were trying to bait him, then they were going to have to try harder than that. Gathering up the box, he slid out of the taxi. The vehicle drove off, and he stepped into his house. Paranoia crept with him, reminding him of the danger of all those Psions out there, but he made himself keep walking. Once he had gone through the house and made sure that there was nothing there waiting for him, no traps, no ambushes, no ‘final parting gifts’ from the PIU, he took the box to his bedroom and left it on his bed. He looked out the window, realizing that he had nothing that he had to worry about for the foreseeable future. His retirement funds would be sufficient to live on for the next year, at least, and by then, he’d probably have some sort of job lined up. For the first time in too long, Kennedy realized that he didn’t have anything to keep him going. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to obsess over. Nobody to boss around… He was free. In a horrible, twisted way, he had not just been let go, but set free. It was…weird. He tried to hold onto the good feelings that the thought brought, but they were weak, barely there. [i]Nnngh…[/i] The rabbit shook his head. No, no. If he spent the night around the house, he’d spend the whole time moping. He needed to do something else, something to keep his mind busy, something to make sure that he was thinking of what he needed to think about, not what he was scared of, or what he had lost. And he knew just the thing for that. He reached for his phone, realized that the PIU had already disconnected its service, and rooted around for the old burner phone that he kept for personal use. He dialed out, and the receptionist on the other end answered almost immediately. “[i]Hello, Dolly’s House of Desire. What can I do for you?[/i]” “This is CK. I want to book a night.” “[i]CK, CK…Ah, right, got you. Anything in particular?[/i]” “Nothing out of the ordinary.” “[i]Yeah, but anything in particular?[/i]” “Just…make sure that my usual is ready.” “[i]You got it, sir.[/i]” Click. Kennedy took a deep breath, putting his phone back down and looking out the window over the city. For now, he was going to forget about the PIU, about Psions, about everything that he had been dealing with for the past three months. He was going to put down all the rage that he felt towards D and the others. He was going to forget [i]all[/i] of that, and he was just going to enjoy himself. What could go wrong? # He turned up to the House of Desire two hours later, just as the sun was properly starting to go down. It had been a pain in the ass to have to figure out the bus system, since he no longer had a company car, but he had to admit that it was a hell of a lot cheaper than paying the gas that it would have cost to get around the city proper. He stepped off the bus, looked across the street, and smiled to himself. “Hello, Dolly…” Dolly was, in reality, someone that no longer worked there, but the vixen had put her image on the house long ago. The brothel operated more as a club these days, but if you knew the right people to ask, you were able to get some seriously amazing experiences from the employees. ‘Dolly’ was actually the name that all the vixens there went by. It had been part of an investigation a while back, something about making sure that there was no hive mind that was mixing between them, well before his time. He’d found the records about it and opened the files again, technically keeping an ‘investigation’ going on the Dollies that worked there. It was a way of getting in his field qualifications and getting the PIU to pay for some prostitutes at the same time. He called that a win. But regardless of how similar the various vixens were to one another for the sake of the House of Desire branding, they were very different once you got them behind closed doors and pushed the right way. There were some that were very quiet, very shy, just for those that wanted to take advantage of that. There were those that were more friendly, going for the buddy experience. And then… Well, Kennedy preferred the ones that were more like the neon logo that soared up and over the building. He wanted the vixens to be dominant, powerful, the sort of person that could make sure that he got what he needed…and made sure that he didn’t make a mistake. [i]We all have urges,[/i] Kennedy thought, silencing the shame that always filled him as he crossed the road. [i]This is just me taking responsibility for mine.[/i] That was what he told himself. He was never sure if he entirely believed it, but it was enough. He walked up to the front door, showed his ID to the rhino bouncer, and stepped inside. The front room of the House of Desire was filled with Dollies working as waitresses, going from table to table in the skimpiest uniforms that you could imagine. They wore little more than leotards, but the front of them swirled like sling-kinies over their chests and down between their legs, framing their breasts in a way that would make any straight or bi guy just drool at the sight. The tight rubber ran down between their legs, all but exposing their sex, and then swung up along their backs like a single line starting between their ass cheeks. You could not get something more exposed without crossing the decency line, and he was pretty sure that the costumes already did that. He chuckled, for the first time feeling some of the stress leaving his system. One of the Dollies walked over as he entered, bowing slightly. Obviously not his usual, but one of the greeters. The vixen smiled. “Hello, sir. What would you desire tonight?” she asked. “I’ve got an appointment. CK?” “Oh, yes, I heard about that. Come with me.” The vixen offered him her hand. Due to the heels that she wore, she was almost eight inches taller than him – and that was including the ears – which meant that he felt almost a little younger than he was as she led him down the halls. He got a few looks from the other clients in the booths that were just there for food, drink, and socializing, but Kennedy didn’t mind that. He wasn’t here for them. He was here for himself. But there was one person that did catch his eye before they reached the back hallways. There was a gorilla at one of the booths, a silverback that looked rather familiar in that brief instant. Kennedy cocked his head to the side, hesitating for a moment, but then they were moving again, and the gorilla had been left behind. Swearing up and down that he knew that primate, he shook it off and allowed himself to be led along by the Dolly. The vixen took him to one of the back rooms near the rear of the building, near the alley exit that they always used if the cops started poking their heads around; great for getting the clients out and keeping them from being busted. He looked around, smiled at the wall restraints and the mini-bar, and then nodded back at her. “Won’t be long?” he asked. “Not at all, sir. I just have to fetch your partner.” “Thank you.” “No problem, sir.” She winked at him and shut the door. As soon as it was closed, the reality of what he was doing came crashing down, and he could hardly believe just how…energized he felt. It was like he had finally taken control of his life again, just by coming here to submit to one of the Dollies. No more PIU, no more Psions, just a few hours where he did what a pretty woman told him to do, and then he’d be right as rain. He was in the process of pulling off his shirt when the door opened again. He pulled his shirt over his head, turned – And his smile flipped upside-down as he saw the gorilla standing there. The silverback grinned at him, arms crossed, chest muscles threatening to rip right through his button-up shirt, and his pants pulled tight around a pair of muscular thighs that were just as dangerous to his clothing as his pecs were. The gorilla chuckled. “I thought I recognized you, you piece of shit.” “Who are you?” Kennedy asked, backing up fast. “What do you want?” “I’m part of the PIU, numbnuts.” “…Oh.” “And you’re not anymore, are you?” “…” “And that means that you don’t got those official protections anymore, do you, ‘Commissioner’?” Kennedy tried to think it through. If this gorilla did push him, then he could file charges. There was no way that a Psion, even one in the PIU, would not get in trouble for harassing a civilian like this. It was part of the protocol. You couldn’t just – But then again… Then again, it wasn’t like there was a lot of sympathy for him in the PIU…particularly after losing M, and how nobody had come to his defense after D punched him out. [i]Run. Gotta run.[/i] Kennedy hadn’t pulled his pants off yet. He could get to the alley, keep running as he dragged his shirt back on. He could – [i]Run![/i] And he jumped forward – Schlick. Squelch. Snap! Only to come to a sudden halt as something wet and surprisingly firm gripped him by the ankle. He was all but yanked off his feet, slamming chest-first into the floor. He groaned at the impact, rubbing his muzzle as he lifted himself back up. He looked over his shoulder, only to see a line of liquid wrapped around his ankle, some sort of tentacle…one that led back to the alcohol bottles at the mini-bar. “Ah ah. No running yet, boy.” “What the hell do you want?” Kennedy growled as the gorilla stepped over him. “Want? Mostly to put you in your place, bitch.” “Mmmph…my place was your boss.” “Was, kid. Was.” “Asshole.” “That, too, but you didn’t lose that position, did you? And look at you. Coming here every week, ‘investigating’ something that was closed months ago. And here you are again, trying to get with ladies that you got no business trying your luck with.” That was where he recognized the goddamn silverback from. The gorilla was the agent that he had assigned to ‘keep an eye on’ this place, someone that made sure that nobody fucked with his personal bit of fun off-work. No wonder he’d been made, and no wonder the gorilla had been able to come back here without anyone batting an eye-lash. He’d probably come after all sorts of problem clients before. [i]Aqua-kinesis?[/i] That sounded about right, someone that could use their Psionic powers to warp the water in the area, control it and push it about. Not something that he really wanted to think about. The gorilla gestured at the bottles, and four more opened, spilling out more alcohol and more tendrils. They wrapped around the rabbit’s other ankle, and both arms, lifting him up and leaving him hovering in mid-air. The rushing feeling of the liquid running along the extremities of his limbs was…rather odd. Soothing, but…odd. But that wasn’t the worst part. He could [i]smell[/i] the alcohol in the fluids running over him, and the sudden idea of one of those tendrils going down his throat – or other places – sent a shiver running down his spine. And the gorilla standing over him, looming over him, with one hand on his hip and the other at the zipper of his pants made it all the clearer just what the big guy wanted from him. “You’re insane. If I report you…” “If you report me? Then what, hmm?” The silverback chuckled. “You’ll be ignored. Laughed at. Nothing but your just desserts, ‘Commissioner’. You ‘commissioned’ this situation. Now, you gotta deal with it.” “This place…if I shout…” “Did you forget? You got me hired here as an official employee. One of the ‘male’ Dollies. The only one.” Kennedy groaned. That had been some finagling that he had been rather proud of. Get someone that had some of the telepathic Psionic abilities, use them to implant the idea of there being ‘Male Dollies’ in the minds of the establishment, and then leave it off the books. It meant that this guy could just sit around, waiting for clients, but just never draw a paycheck. Nobody questioned him being there. They just…allowed it. And now, it was coming back to bite him in the ass. The gorilla finally thumbed his zipper down, showing that he had gone commando. His cock flopped out, long and thick as his build implied it would be, and he stroked it slowly. Kennedy could do little more than watch with his cheeks burning as red as they could get, and…and his own erection not going down. [i]This wasn’t what I had in mind…[/i] Yet, the rabbit couldn’t deny that there was a hard, throbbing feeling between his legs right at that moment. He had always been at least a little curious about what would happen when a male dominated him rather than a woman. Not that he had ever really gone far enough to find out, but he had been pegged more than once… [i]No, no, this is a bad idea…[/i] He pulled at the tendrils that held him, but it did nothing. They were too strong, the Psion before him holding too much control over them. Other bottles opened, and slender, more dexterous water tentacles reached for his pants. He hissed as they were pulled down, his cock exposed, and the rabbit’s cheeks burned all the hotter as the silverback chuckled. “Well, well, well, look at that…seems like the little bunny likes it.” “Fuck off.” “You want to watch your mouth, ‘Commissioner.’” One of the tendrils flicked up, but rather than whipping his cock as he had been afraid of, it rubbed over it, stroking along his shaft towards the base, and then back to the tip. A bit of a burn was left behind, the alcohol heating him up and leaving him shivering as it worked towards the tip. “Nnngh…mmmph…” “Yeah, you like it, alright.” “Piss off…” “Says the man getting hard as a rock.” That was the most embarrassing part. The rabbit’s cock was as hard as it could get, and it was getting there so fast. His breath caught in his throat as the silverback reached around him, rubbing his ass with one big hand, a finger sliding between the cheeks. “Mmm, not that loose back here, though.” “I’m not some…some butt-slut…” “I think after this, you will be.” “Fat chance.” “Nah. Fat cock.” Smack. The tap of that big dick across his cheek only brought more of the burn to his cheeks, and the soft smell of the other man’s cock was…well, it wasn’t unpleasant…though he blamed that on the alcohol in the air. The tentacles pulled him to his knees, leaving him looking up with a huff and a puff, his eyes half-closed, his mind half-blank as he felt dizzy. Everything was…was so off. It was hard to think, harder still to come up with a way out of this. Kennedy had always been a man that lived by rules, and when those rules and protocols were taken away, he didn’t know how to handle it. All he could do was…was… [i]What I’m told…[/i] And what the gorilla wanted was pretty damn clear, what with that cock right in the rabbit’s face, and the way that the other tendrils were slowly working up from below. He could feel some of them all but washing his balls, working them back and forth, swinging them forward and back. The silverback showed remarkable control over his powers for someone that was so…so casual with everything else, and it was rather…terrifying, yes, but also hitting a button that Kennedy didn’t know he had. Something that wanted someone to take care of things. Someone that would make sure that he didn’t fuck up. He groaned as he felt that cock sliding along the sides of his muzzle, almost pushing in right then and there. He twisted his head to one side, only for the gorilla to grab him and make him look the cock straight on again. “Ah ah…” “Mmmph…” “Open up, ‘Commissioner,’ or I’m going to force it.” “You wouldn’t…You would…” “Yes, I would. Now…open.” Faced with little to no options, Kennedy did as he was told. The rabbit’s ears were pulled far back against the back of his head, of course, but he did it, staring straight up and narrowing his eyes the whole time. As the shaft slid across his tongue, leaving a trail of pre-cum behind, he could feel one of the alcohol tentacles rubbing right against his asshole. He whimpered, trying to pull himself up, but there was nowhere he could go. Everything was in the control of the big man over him, now, and there was no getting away from it. “Mmmph…nnnngh…” It was slow, steady, just like the cock in his mouth. Every time that the gorilla pushed forward, he left about half of his cock outside the rabbit’s muzzle, but that was still more than enough for Kennedy to feel the sheer girth of the thing. Bob, throb, bob, throb, each time pushing forward that little bit further, nudging the back of his throat and making him flex, almost gagging from it. He huffed through his nose, trying not to breathe in too much of that smell, trying not to like it. And under him, he could feel that tendril flicking across his pucker like a teasing tongue, almost like that time one of the Dollies had brought in another girl to lick his ass before pegging him. The idea of something like that – “Mmmph…” The heat of the alcohol followed the licks, leaving him feeling so…so weird down there. It was so odd, and it…it was making him feel…funny… [i]Am…am I getting…drunk?[/i] It was almost exactly like that, he realized, almost like the alcohol was getting absorbed through the thin skin around his anus. His head rolled back slightly, his throat opening up just a little bit – “Ulk!” Only for the gorilla to slam forward. Kennedy fully expected to throw up from that, but something had changed enough that he only gagged slightly, swallowing around the shaft rather than just trying to push it out of his neck. The PIU agent groaned, holding his head down with one hand. “That’s it. Thaaaaat’s it…just gimme that throat…” He had little choice in the matter, and as the tendril flicking over his pucker finally pushed in, he realized…he didn’t mind it as much as he thought he would. As a matter of fact, he almost felt a bit giggly. He actually did giggle, or at least, as much as one could with a fat cock shoved down one’s throat. Down under his tail, however, a different feeling was rising. He could feel the oozing tentacle inside him now, the writhing tip of controlled alcohol running against his inner walls. This time, when the burning followed, it settled deep inside him, rushing through his inner walls, and then into him. His head was completely limp now, completely in control of the silverback, and his eyes were half-closed. “Mmmph…mmm…” “Yeah, that’s it…get ‘em drunk, and they all love it…” He barely understood what that meant, but he was enjoying this. As that tendril rubbed around his inner walls, his cock continued to throb, showing how much his body was into it. His mind, however, was off in la-la-land, and he couldn’t think clearly. The booze was settling into his rear, filling him up, and… And he felt… Good… Floaty… Every flick over his prostate made him feel like he was slipping deeper, and as the silverback started thrusting down his throat, he took it with ease. He stopped fighting, just hanging in the liquid restraints, and he ‘allowed’ his body to be used. Well, he stopped fighting. Well, he stopped. In, out, in, out, each thrust giving him another taste of that thick pre-cum, another reminder of how it must have felt for all those other guys to be on the bottom in the past. With him? No, with others…in porn…sometimes… He couldn’t think. He just took it, enjoying it, finding himself moaning despite himself rather than just staying quiet. He groaned under the oral assault, swallowing when he could, pushing his head forward when he couldn’t. His hole clenched around the one tendril, then the second, then the third, feeling the thicker intrusions pumping more and more of the relaxing fluids into him. Yeah… Yeah, just feel that…enjoy it…go with it. No need to fight it. The former Commissioner all but giggled like an idiot as he felt the sliding pressure of the flowing tendrils inside him, rolling his hips back to meet them, thrusting his cock into the air and enjoying the way that it all felt. Yes. This was good. This was better than the pegging. This was a hell of a lot better than the pegging, as a matter of fact. This was what the pegging was supposed to be. He rolled his hips back, fucking himself on the tendrils, barely even paying attention to the cock in his throat anymore. At least, until it was pulled out. He groaned, gagging softly as the shaft was finally taken from him, looking up past the gorilla’s balls up at the man himself. The silverback chuckled, tapping his cock against his palm. “Mmmph…why…” “I think you’re drunk enough to take it from the other end. What do you think, boy?” “…Gimme…” “Good answer.” The gorilla smiled, gesturing slightly, and the tendrils rearranged themselves. Those that were inside him pulled out, while those that had been restraining him pulled him into a different position, hiking his ass and leaving him facing backwards. “That’s it…that’s perfect.” He didn’t know how it was perfect, but he was happy to be posed. Or, well, happy enough. Something in him remembered that he wasn’t supposed to be happy with this. He arched his back a bit further anyway, offering his ass. That thick cock, spit-slick and throbbing, pressed between his cheeks, and he groaned as he felt it wiggling against his rim, all but sliding in on the first thrust. It was fully hilted by the second, and by the third, he was experiencing what it really felt like to get fucked. Truth to tell, it felt pretty good. He didn’t know what all those former agents of his were complaining about, really. [b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b] Summary: Kennedy’s sacked for his stupidity and his inability to anything but follow protocol. Tags: M/M, Silverback, Prostitution, Series, Epilogue, Rabbit, Gorilla, Vixen, Switch, Reversal, Alcohol, Tentacles, Oral, Anal,