The Interrogation

"The Interrogation"

by Veder Juda

This is a lemon fan-fiction story based on the game Sly 2: Band of Thieves from Sucker Punch. First of all, this is a fan work; I do not own or claim any rights to the characters within. Second, this is an adult story, so it should not be ready by minors. Third, this is something that came out of my twisted imagination, so please don't try any of this yourself; I don't even know if any of this is even physically possible.

I wish to give a quick thank you to Verona, it was her artwork that inspired this work (even though it is not directly based on anything she did) and it was the posting of two pieces of work-"Eh?" and "Long Tongue"-that gave me the desire to finish this story that had been stuck in limbo for two months. So if you like this story, go check out her page on FurAffinity or WWOEC.

=========================

"He's just down this way."

A steel gate slid open and three people walked through, two of which seemed normal enough from a distance, while the one leading them was enormous, bigger than the other two combined, and had more legs than the other two combined.

One of the smaller spoke in a hard demanding voice. "So, has he said anything?"

The larger responded. "Constable Fox, there is no need for you to be so impatient; he will speak up in time."

Constables Fox and Neyla, led by the Contessa, arrived in front of a large Plexiglas window. The trio looked inside the glass to see one individual contained within, a frustrated individual, taking out his anger on a flat white panel.

"He was a troubled soul, so I tried to get him in touch with what drove him, and what used to bring him happiness: art."

Carmelita had little interest in the Contessa's psycho mumbo-jumbo. "Art forgery you mean."

"Please, the criminal Dimitri is the result of continuous rejection by his peers and critics over his rather... eccentric art style. His art was his soul trying to reach out and express itself in a mundane world; the rejection of that was a rejection of Dimitri himself. Eventually he devolved to realize that the world didn't want him, and therefore the rules of the world no longer applied to him. I am trying to help him by getting him back in touch with that part of his soul that he feels was invalidated, and to find peace with himself."

Neyla didn't take her eyes of Dimitri. "But is he willing to tell us where the rest of the Klaww Gang and the Clockwerk parts are?"

"It'll take some time."

"We don't have time! Cooper probably beat some answers out of him and is halfway there, and we don't even know where 'there' is yet!"

{Not nearly as much as you beat him.} Neyla knew full well to keep such jokes to herself, especially when the topic of the conversation involved Sly Cooper in any way at all.

The Contessa turned back to Carmelita. "And your investigation didn't turn up any leads?"

Neyla turned away from Dimitri for the first time since they got to the cell. "Nothing on the illegal side of things, just a few names of local fences to try and move his forgeries. We're looking into some of the suppliers of his clubs, they're mostly normal companies, but there are a few odd names that have come up."

"Anything I should be looking for?"

"We're already looking into them, but there's one name that's been coming up, Rajan. He's a strange character, normally not very public, but he's holding some kind of party in a few weeks, and we're going to pay him a visit."

"Sounds interesting, I hope my invitation didn't get lost in the mail."

{This girl's got some tongue.} Carmelita was getting annoyed by how friendly Neyla was; she had already dropped the hint about the Klaww Gang to Sly, and now she was babbling on about their next mission. Sure, they were talking to the Contessa, an Interpol agent who is also involved in the case, but that's besides the point. {One of these days I'm going to sit her down and explain what 'needs to know' means.}

Outside of Carmelita's head, Neyla brought her conversation back to the topic on hand. "So, can we talk to him?"

"I suppose so, but try not to upset him, I've been making some real progress with him and I don't need any severe negative feelings to cause him to revert."

"He's a crook, he broke the law, he's scum under people's boots. He should be locked up and we should throw away the key." Carmelita switched tones, turning from primal rage to oblique sarcasm. "But of course we don't want to hurt his feelings, now do we?"

"Could you please pack in the attitude; didn't you beat him up enough when you tossed him in the wagon? Can't you accept the fact that some people, no matter how many bad things they do, are pretty decent on the inside."

"This coming from an ex-con?"

"That was penny-ante stuff, and I've put that behind me."

"After you were caught."

Neyla let out a sigh, no matter how much she protested, Carmelita still regarded her as a criminal, often bringing up her past to haunt her. "You know, one of these days I hope you catch Sly Cooper, then you might just lighten up a bit."

The Contessa chuckled. "I'm impressed, you two seem to have the whole 'good cop, bad cop' routine down pat."

Carmelita and Neyla responded together, the former very irate, the latter sarcastically. "What routine?"

=========================

The two constables entered the cell, at first Dimitri didn't notice and continued painting, several people have walked in and out during his time in the Contessa's care; but while stroking his brush on the palette, he looked up and noticed the visitors were not the usual fare.

"You?" Dimitri's eyes locked on Carmelita. "What brings the lovely viper to come and darken my already depressing studio?"

"Some studio."

"Wherever an artist places his easel is a studio, no matter what else it is."

{Then why don't you set up shop in a bathroom.} Carmelita was not one for pleasantries, and jumped straight into the investigation. "We came to ask you a few questions."

"Questions? It seems that's all anyone around here does, is ask questions."

"You're a part of the Klaww gang; who else is in it, and where are the rest of the Clockwerk parts?"

"Aren't we pushy?"

"Just answer the questions."

"And if I don't, then what? You going to beat me up again?"

Neyla nudged Carmelita aside. "Dimitri, you can make this a lot easier on yourself if you help us. If you give us any tips at all, it'll look good for you in the courts."

"Rat out the others for a plea bargain?" Dimitri hesitated a bit, a part of him might have done so, but he also knew that one of those names would cause a lot of trouble. He took a quick glance to the Plexiglas window with the Contessa on the other side. If he spilt the beans, then he figured that she'd quickly lock all three of them inside, and do whatever she wanted to make sure none of them squealed. Sure there was an upside to being locked in a room with two beautiful women, but it would be far too short lived for the punishment the Contessa would deal out.

"No dice; do you have any idea how stool pigeons are treated in jail? I just want to be left alone, and work on my painting."

Neyla craned her head around the easel to look at the picture, but had no idea what she was looking at; the image was a bunch of random color strokes going in every which direction, though a few of them formed some sort of pattern, there was really nothing there but insanity. Dimitri stopped working to turn his eyes to Neyla, either waiting for her to say something, or to get out of his space. Despite not having any real idea what she was looking at, Neyla tried to play nice with the struggling artist.

"It looks very nice."

"Don't patronize me, I just started on it. It's bad enough when the 'establishment' criticizes my work, but I certainly don't need total bohemians giving silly impressions on things they don't understand. Now leave me alone."

Carmelita was barely able to hold back any longer. "We're not leaving until you..."

"Listen here, I'm not talking, so you can stop wasting my time. So unless one of you ladies is here to be immortalized on canvas; otherwise, get lost."

=========================

"What a pompous jerk!"

Carmelita stormed out of the cell, ready to punch something, anything; she was fed up with Dimitri, and if she didn't get out soon she would've clocked him, permanently.

The Contessa watched as the two constables emerged from the cell. "No luck?"

"No! He was rude, arrogant and snotty."

Neyla walked out behind the storming Carmelita.

"Being rude is not a crime." She then whispered. "Or you'd get a few years yourself."

Carmelita tended to be extra sensitive when things were not going her way, and she heard Neyla's remark. "I guess you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

Neyla knew she was in trouble now. Carmelita was notoriously abusive with criminals that she captured, especially when she came just short of nabbing the one she was really after; although that rage rarely went beyond putting a few boots to the prisoner, Neyla's presence only destabilized her further. Neyla really didn't think that Carmelita would ever go so far to turn her rage directly on her, but there were times like these that the fox scared the hell out of her.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry; calm down."

Neyla and the Contessa stood for a moment, waiting while Carmelita took a few deep breaths to regain her composure.

"This is pointless." Carmelita started to walk away. "I have some reports to write, you coming?"

"I'll catch a bus; I have a few things to discuss with the Contessa."

Carmelita gave a very audible sigh and left, at this point she just wanted any excuse to get out of there, and leaving Neyla behind was a bonus. "Fine, I'll see you later. Keep me informed if he says anything."

The Contessa thought back to her time in university when she studied psychology, and recalled reams of text on violent behaviour; she figured she would have a good time poking through her synapses, but waited until she was safely out of hearing range before making any comment.

"I wouldn't mind a chance to deconstruct whatever is turning her into such a sourpuss."

Neyla started thinking to herself. {I might be able to arrange that.}

"Do you mind if I talk to him again?"

"You think you could get something when Carmelita couldn't?"

"I think she's the problem. Let me have a try."

"Alright."

=========================

Back in Dimitri's cell, Neyla returned to the imprisoned artist.

"I told you I'm not saying anything."

"I know, I was wondering if your offer for a model still stood."

Dimitri looked at her; he was sure the cop was playing nice in hope of loosening his tongue, but inspiration was seriously limited in this dump.

"Alright, Miss Neyla, just sit over there."

Neyla walked over to a stool, deliberately swaying her hips to grab Dimitri's attention. The lizard's attention was diverted to his paints, and hardly noticed Neyla's seductive walk, so she swung her hips even more; so much so that it went slightly past a sultry walk, and made it look like her knees were giving out. Dimitri, on the other hand, was trying to decide if he should start over, or just adapt his current masterpiece. When she got to the stool, Dimitri finally paid any attention to her, just as Neyla took off her scarf, revealing a head with short-cut black hair. At first Dimitri didn't think much of it, nor did he really think it strange when Neyla took off her boots and socks; but when the cat reached back and pulled her top over her head that his mind began churning.

{What is she doing? Does she want to do a nude? Is she toying with me to get me to talk or something? Is that even legal?} It didn't take long before Dimitri was thinking of other things than being in jail. {Oh shit, she's hot.}

Neyla continued to disrobe, taking off her pants and kicking them away, then reaching back to undo the clasp of her bra. As she undid the clasp, she turned to Dimitri.

"I'm sorry, were you expecting me to keep my clothes on? I figured you artists like their models nude."

Dimitri snapped out of his stupor momentarily. "Oh, what? No, that's fine. I didn't know if you wanted to do a nude; I didn't ask because it might have been a bit, ah... much, under the circumstances."

"Oh."

Neyla pulled the straps forward and pulled the bra down her arms, freeing her breasts that bounced slightly as they came out of bondage. She then slid her fingers into her panties, pulling them down her legs in a single motion, giving Dimitri a nice look at her ass as she bent forward.

Dimitri couldn't help but gaze at the tigress' shapely behind, those nice round cheeks, and her tail pointing almost straight up into the air. Buried between her butt and her legs, a small bulge poked through, one that was split in two vertically, like a smaller version of her tight ass. Dimitri had seen his fair share of women before, there were a few that modeled for him before his life of crime, a couple that he would go as far to call "starving-artist" groupies; and then there were the dancing girls in the clubs, who would shake their groove thing while wearing tube tops, short skirts and thongs. He's had a number of nights when he managed to sleep with a hot girl, or two; although he never thought he'd meet one in prison...

It then dawned on him that his model was a cop, while he was a prisoner, certainly she wanted to loosen his tongue to talk, not to eat her out. Dimitri put up his guard again, watching her to see what she does, but not allowing himself to be captivated by her overtly sexual advances.

When Neyla got her panties off, she turned back to Dimitri. "How should I sit?"

The tigress gave a short leap backwards to land her butt firmly on the wooden seat. Neyla kept her legs closed, but angled herself on the stool so that her legs were pointing down, showing a fair bit of her furry pelvis while completely hiding her pussy. She then arched her back, and placed her hands on the stool next to her butt, forcing her chest out towards Dimitri, and pushing her breasts out with it. Neyla turned her head to the side, just a little bit, and put on a slightly pouty frown.

Dimitri looked her over; she was definitely trying to turn him on. Neyla looked like she was frozen in time, while trying to have an orgasm, but it was like she had been within inches of climax, and unable to cross over, leaving her frustrated, desperate for something to cause her vagina to explode.

"That's fine..."

Dimitri mentally kicked himself; was 'fine' the best word he could come up with? He knew he'd regret it later if he gave into Neyla, but he was regretting it now for trying to contain himself. Was he so concerned that she was trying to dupe him that he was going to deny himself the pleasure of taking advantage of the situation.

For a few minutes, Neyla was perched on the stool, not speaking a word, just sitting there being a perfect model. Instead of blurting out questions from the get go like her partner, she watched Dimitri, judging his motions, trying to figure out just how to get inside him and get the information she wanted. She watched his arms swinging with every stoke he made, sometimes placing a graceful arc, other times swatting the canvas with the brush; one thing she learned, Dimitri was a mess of varying and conflicting emotions. She noted every time he turned his head to gaze upon his muse, distinguishing the times he was looking for inspiration, and when he just wanted to look at her. Even the way he brushed the palette told a story; he was not a professional looking for the optimal way to get the exact color he wanted on the brush, but an arcane and twisted joker willing to allow pure emotion and random chance dictate his art.

At one point, Dimitri stood away from his painting to judge how it was coming along; but he was not pleased, and tossed his brush and palette to the floor. He stood there for a moment, not doing anything, not moving, his eyes locked on the canvas. Neyla was very intrigued by the change, wondering what exactly was going on in his head; whatever it was, he was obviously putting every ounce of his creative might onto the painting, and was on the brink of an artistic breakthrough, or total mental collapse.

When the thought finally came to him, his whole mood changed, like he was just shown all of nature's beauty compressed in a picture frame. He swung his arms out towards the easel to frame up what he did, and then left it to walk towards Neyla. If Neyla was at all concerned that this crazy man was approaching her nude form, she didn't show it.

"What is it?"

"I just had a brainstorm, would you like to help me?"

"With what?"

"Come here."

Neyla slipped off the stool and walked over to Dimitri who was laying the painting on the ground. At that point, the constable could make out the purple smear that was supposedly her; she never did understand abstract art.

"So what are we doing?"

"An experiment in body art."

Dimitri picked up a small can of red paint and opened it, then held it in front of Neyla.

"You ready?"

Neyla wasn't sure, be she was sure that things were about to get really weird. "O.K."

Dimitri tipped the can and poured a bit of bright red paint over Neyla's left breast, then lifting it, he poured another glop on her right breast. He placed the can back on the table with other cans and laid the lid back on, and then turned to Neyla. Dimitri brought his hands up and started to rub Neyla's breasts, spreading the red paint over her chest. Neyla was getting turned on by the treatment, though she tried to hide it from the artist; the cold paint and the rubbing was exciting her, and despite suppressing other signs of arousal, her nipples were hardening.

"Do you do this will all your models?"

"No, that's why this is an experiment."

Dimitri quickly spread the paint thinly over Neyla's chest, enough that there were no large blobs anywhere that might drip off; and yes, he did notice Neyla's erect nipples.

"Alright, kneel on the floor."

Neyla went down on her hands and knees with her red breasts hanging over the canvas; Neyla easily figured out what was next, it was very much like taking fingerprints. As she was trained in how to do fingerprints, Neyla waited for Dimitri to guide her down to the canvas instead of going down herself. Dimitri came to her side and placed his hands to her sides, half on her back. Pushing down, he guided Neyla to the canvas, and pressed her form into the flat plane, squishing her breasts and delivering the dye to the paper. With his hands guiding her direction, Neyla shifted her weight to press every square inch of her bosom into the page, moving in a giant circle left, up, right, down, then back to center. It felt a little like a mammogram she once had, but this was stickier, and didn't involve almost crushing her chest between thick plates of glass. After the circle was done, Dimitri pulled her away from the canvas, and she knelt up to see the result.

On the canvas, on the purple wavy streak that was supposed to represent Neyla's appearance on the stool, two large red circles were printed right where the image's breasts would be. Right in the middle of the discs were two small dots of red, surrounded by a small blank area and more red, which gave way to the rest of the circle, made up of hundreds of streaks of red, going in all directions. Neyla looked down at her chest to see the red paint had flattened the fur on her breasts, sending it in all directions in small clumps, and in certain places, sticking up as they were pulled from the canvas.

"Very nice, but is that all? Perhaps a butt-print next?"

Dimitri was already way ahead of Neyla; he had already considered a print of Neyla's fine buttocks, going so far as to pick a color, but that would've been too "normal". He then considered how nubile Neyla was, surely she could do the splits and might be able to give a perfect pussy print; but then he got a real shot of brilliance.

"Oh no, I've got a different idea. Can you stand on your head?"

"On my head? What are you doing?"

"Can you?"

Neyla was a little flustered as to what the lizard was going to go. "Yes."

"Then do it; lean against the wall if you need support, facing me."

Neyla walked over towards the wall and reached down with her hands, planting them in the floor near the base of the wall; she then flipped up, bringing her heels to the wall and her head to the floor.

Dimitri opened another can, the color of which Neyla couldn't see from here.

"Spread your legs a bit."

Neyla did as told, curious as to what Dimitri was doing. She was especially concerned when Dimitri's fingers started to probe her vagina.

"What are you do-do-doing?"

Neyla stuttered the last word as Dimitri tipped the can, pouring the contents into her sex. Neyla squealed as the muscles in her abdomen tightened, squeezing the paint out. For a moment, she thought her arms would give way out of shock and she'd come crashing to the brick floor.

"Try to relax."

{'Try to relax' he says. I'm standing on my head-naked-while this creep is pouring thick, gooey fluids into my privates!}

Dimitri tried again, pouring another blob of paint into Neyla's pussy; this time she knew what he was doing and tried very hard to not react, but she still shuttered a bit and caused some of it to spill. Dimitri scooped it with his fingers and deposited it back in her pussy before pouring more from the can.

"That's about all you can take; close your legs and try to hold that in."

Neyla wasn't about to argue, she just wanted to get off her head. The constable clamped her legs tightly, and Dimitri grabbed her, gently bringing her off the wall, and carried her to the painting.

"You want me to pour out the paint on the picture?"

"Well, if you're feeling up to it, I was hoping you might orgasm and spray in on there, love."

Neyla's eyes shot open at the suggestion, and almost let go of the paint in her vagina; but instead, it turned her on even more. Dimitri laid Neyla on her feet near the painting, and the cat brought her hands down to her pussy to hold it shut so that she could open her legs to walk.

"Well, if that's what you want, why don't you help me; a good cock should help get me going."

"I was hoping you could squeeze it out yourself, to keep the image pure, as opposed to me getting in the way."

Neyla grinned a bit, thinking that her warped mind had caught up and passed the painter's twisted sense of art. "Actually, I think I could take you in behind. I don't fancy getting pregnant or anything; besides, it'd be a strange feeling. I already have my pussy full of paint, and to have someone sticking his cock in my ass at the same time; that'd really be an amazing experience."

Dimitri looked down, considering it. {Why not, if she's naked, and if this works it could be good.}

The lizard undid his pants and pulled them and his boxers down, revealing his semi-erect member; the cool air, combined with the eager anticipation of taking the sexy tigress quickly brought it to full staff. Neyla looked at the 10 inches of green rod, it was certainly impressive, but she tried to hide just how enamoured she was with it, at least until she saw how well he used it.

"That looks like a nice piece of meat you've got there. Stick it in me, and let's get painting."

Neyla stepped over the painting, facing away from Dimitri, leaning over slightly so that her ass was exposed. The girl moved her hands around, instead of completely covering her pussy they were squeezing her lips together; a small bit of paint had dribbled on her hands and was smeared over her crotch with the move.

"You ever take it from behind before?"

Neyla wasn't about to answer that, at least not honestly. Thoughts ran through her mind of a "friend" whose member was as small as him, and wasn't good for anything except anal sex; but that was something that Dimitri had no right knowing. "No, well, I've played with it while masturbating, but I've never really..."

"My you are a dirty girl, aren't you?" The lizard moved up behind her. "I'll take it slow going in."

Dimitri's scaly hands started massaging Neyla's buttocks, squeezing her cheeks in slow, thorough motions; his thumbs were pointed towards her rectum, and moved closer with each stroke. Soon his thumbs where between her meaty cheeks, pulling them apart for easy access.

Neyla could feel the tip of his cock coming up behind her, trying to pierce her tight muscles. Neyla let out a whimper, but continued to hold on tight to her load, letting the pole through into her rectum, piercing the tight door, and into her back passage. It was torture, absolutely painful as each millimetre of Dimitri entered through Neyla's behind. The cat was well prepared, as her sex life was as secretive and as complex as her real one, and she had much experience taking it in the rear; but Dimitri's member was larger than anything she had the gall to stick in there, flesh or plastic.

"Aaaahhh!!"

Neyla's pussy was churning, sloshing around the paint inside, trying to push it out through her vagina; but Neyla held the door closed, and only a little bit of the ooze seeped out and dripped to the canvas.

In the back of Dimitri's mind, he was a little suspicious of the scenario, especially with his member in Neyla's rear. She had definitely prepared for this, and cleaned herself out before coming here; and she was definitely not an anal virgin, he's done enough girls to know the difference. What was her game, was she so desperate for information to stoop this low, or does she have some kind of sexual fetish for criminals; if it's the later, she might come back; if it's the former, it could still be fun.

Dimitri's member was in about as far as he could get it in.

"Are you ready, constable?"

"Ready, for what?" As if she didn't know.

At first it seemed that Dimitri was going to push his cock even further in, but the stopped and starting pulling out; after a second, Dimitri changed direction again and pushed in. Neyla stifled back a moan as Dimitri continued a rhythmic thrusting motion, trying her hardest to hold her tongue as the pace gradually quickened; the action had not yet reached a fevered pitch before Neyla couldn't hold her excitement, and released a shuttered moan, more than audible to anyone in the room.

"C'mon baby, let's see that pussy of yours work."

Dimitri thrust in with all he had, and pulled out again, repeating the piston over and over, giving it to Neyla until she cracked. The tigress could barely hold on, the pain was excruciating, and it felt like Dimitri's cock was trying to push through the wall into her vagina to squeeze out her load.

At the top of her lungs, Neyla screamed.

Her ear bursting vocals reverberated throughout the cell; were it not for the structure being made of stone, everyone in the prison would've heard it. Outside, watching through the one-inch think Plexiglas, the Contessa was appalled by the muffled, though fairly clear wail; she had experience with prisoners who didn't conform with her methodology and required a little extra "incentive" to get the job done, but even she never heard a cry that could send shivers all over her body.

With Dimitri's pumping, and her own vagina's convulsions, Neyla could no longer hold the paint, not that she was even thinking of the thick fluid in her sex. With each burst of passion, her pussy forced out a spray of blue liquid through the tight opening. The paint flew in every direction, most of it in a thin stream shaped by her labia to the canvas below, splattering about on impact; but some strayed sideways, putting dabs of color on Neyla's hands and legs, and a small stream dribbled down her left inner thigh.

Even though the purpose was to transplant the paint to the canvas, Dimitri wasn't satisfied with Neyla's performance just yet, he was all worked up and ready to blow. Neyla's behind was aching; being dry humped for several minutes made it feel like her asshole and most of her rectum was going to be ripped out of her butt. No longer holding her hands awkwardly to her crotch, Neyla reached back to try and push Dimitri away from her, but she was already too weak to do anything, and he was in full arousal. With his hands firmly grappling her hips, Dimitri was totally ignorant of the tigress' cries of torture, or her feeble attempt to eject him; he was going to explode in her derriere, and he didn't have a care for anything else in the world.

"Gaaahhh!"

With one big thrust, Dimitri unloaded him cum in Neyla's ass, taking a few more hearty punches to get it all out and to finish his climax, and then slowed down his frantic pace. Neyla could feel some relief that her rapist was slowing down, as well as his rock hard member was softening somewhat, and lubricating her sore passage; she might have enjoyed this part of the action, but her butt still felt like it was fuming in the fires of hell to appreciate it.

Dimitri pulled Neyla back away from the painting, and lowered her to the ground, allowing her to collapse to her hands and knees.

"You were amazing, my little kitty."

"You..." Neyla was exhausted from the screaming, panting like a dog, and was still distracted by the burning in her nether regions. "You bastard..."

Dimitri laid back and gazed over the panting tigress as she tried to restore her bodily functions to normal.

"I... can't believe... you did that. You damn fucker... that was... horrible... what you did to me..."

Neyla was beginning to regain her strength, and sat up, before tumbling backwards into Dimitri's arms.

"That was the most amazing fuck I ever had."

"I am a renaissance man, a master of many artistic schools."

"Your cock is a definite work of art."

Dimitri started fondling Neyla's breasts, playing with them this time. "And you are a fine sculpture, worthy of the greatest masters."

Neyla rested for a moment, and then looked down at the painting. She stood up to get a better look, and saw the splatter of blue paint located near the bottom of the picture; if the red blobs were her breasts, then the blue splotches represented her sex.

"I think it's starting to take shape."

Dimitri got up and stepped behind her.

"What's next?"

"Are you ready to go again?"

"Again?"

"Yes, a different position, and color."

After what happened, Neyla didn't know if she had the strength to stand on her head again, let alone going through the agony of another anal penetration; but she walked over to the wall and stood on her head like before.

"Hurry up; I don't know if I can hold this for long."

Despite her panting and seeming weakness in getting up there, Dimitri figured that Neyla had more fortitude than that. He walked over to her with another can of paint, this time, Neyla could make out that the paint was yellow.

"Let's see if you can take more this time."

Dimitri poured the yellow ooze into Neyla's pussy, just like he did the blue before; she reacts, unconsciously contracting to squeeze the intrusion out, but she tried her best to relax her muscles and allow as much paint inside her as she could. She couldn't tell if it was just the exhaustion from before, or if she really was feeling it, but based on the weight, it felt like she was taking double the amount this time.

"O.K. Let's get you down from there."

Neyla clamped her legs again, and Dimitri eased her to the floor; this time, the paint was too much and dripped through her barrier before reaching the canvas. Neyla tried to get her hands down to cover it, but it wasn't until she was on the ground before she could stop the flow, leaving trails of yellow running down her legs and over her buttocks.

"It's too much, I can't hold it."

"Alright. This time we're going to try spraying it from underneath, instead of hovering above it."

Dimitri got down on the floor, sitting with his legs open facing his art; Neyla knew the position that he wanted her in, but without her hands, it would be difficult to descend. She carefully stepped over him, straddling his midsection, then started to bend at the knees; Neyla had no idea if she could hold herself up like this, but as she got lower Dimitri reached up to grab Neyla's ass, and guided her down, bringing her on top of his erect cock. When Dimitri's cock was at her entrance, Neyla's legs gave way, and she crashed on top of him, spearing her behind harder than his previous thrusting.

"AH!"

It was painful, especially for Dimitri who had the tigress landing right on his pelvis with all her weight; but after the previous torture and lubrication, the penetration wasn't quite so bad for the impalee.

"You alright back there?"

"Just *moan* fine."

Dimitri put his hands on Neyla's back to support her.

"Now, I want you to lift yourself up and down, and I'll steady you from behind."

Neyla lifted her legs up to replant them on the stone floor on either side of Dimitri, then tried to flex them to lift herself up; it was difficult at first, made nearly impossible by her hands' position at her sex, and the first few attempts left her sitting on Dimitri's cock; but eventually, she managed to get up by a few inches. Neyla held there for a second before easing herself back down. This would easily be the most difficult sex she's ever had; she was in total control over how hard she was penetrated, but just getting it out even a little bit was going to require all her leg muscles.

She pushed herself up again, but after a false start, managed to get herself up a few inches; descending, she rose again, and came down again. Neyla had found her rhythm, and was rising and falling with a steady pace; her ass felt so good, a nice steady probing, as opposed to the more erratic and violent assault Dimitri gave her earlier. The tigress was enjoying this, even though her legs were burning more than her vagina and even her ass, it was still awesome.

Beneath her, Dimitri was getting very aroused by the treatment; he had little work to do, and his cock was getting a stiff massage from Neyla's tight asshole. This was the life, laying back while a hot girl spears herself on you; but all good things must come to an end, and Dimitri could feel his burning member was ready to go in Neyla's ass again. With a few more strokes, Dimitri could feel himself pulsating.

Neyla could feel Dimitri cuming in her ass; that jerk was going before she was, and she was the one carrying the pussy-load of paint, and soon an ass full of his floppy meat.

"Don't you dare go limp on me!"

Neyla's bobbing became more frantic, trying to get herself to climax before Dimitri was done; Dimitri was not unconcerned with Neyla, and tried to keep his cock as hard as possible, but it wasn't going to last. The cat wasn't going to let Dimitri go without her, and brought her left hand away from her crotch to her left breast, and started massaging, then squeezing, and finally pinching the nipple.

"Make me cum! Make me cum, dammit!"

Neyla was feverish, her formerly smooth motion decays to a vigorous shaking, and she was pinching her nipple so hard that if she didn't fire soon, she was going to be drawing milk, or blood. Dimitri was now kicking himself off the floor, pushing himself into her behind, trying to help Neyla over the edge while he still had some strength to do so.

"Fuck me! Fuck! FUCK ME!! AAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

Neyla arched her back high into the air as she came; her pussy aimed high, and lifted her ass completely off Dimitri's member. From the depths of her core, a thick yellow stream gushed out and onto the canvas.

When she was done ejecting the yellow paint, Neyla laid back on Dimitri's chest to cool down.

"That was fun."

"You are so full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Me? You're the one who came up with this stupid idea."

Neyla sat up, suddenly shifting her weight back on Dimitri's pelvis, yielding a muffled groan from the lizard that she totally ignored. Putting all four extremities on the ground, Neyla lifted herself up and stood up; she stretched a bit, and then shook her legs in a futile attempt to get some of the paint off and out of her. Dimitri was a bit slower, but eventually got off the floor.

"I meant that I've rarely met anyone willing to experiment the way you have."

"So I'm either a sexoholic, or a total weirdo."

"Oh come on, a pretty girl like you shouldn't say things like that. You have been a wonderful muse, and are helping me create something truly remarkable."

Neyla looked down at the painting that she was working so hard to create: a sheet of white with purple streaks, two large red discs, and blobs of blue and yellow. It was a silly looking thing, but for the first time, she was actually starting to like it.

"So, 'Mr. Super Famous Artist', what's next?"

"The colors are in the right place, but I think it needs your subtle touch."

Neyla smirked. "So you're going for the butt-print after all."

"No, something better; I want a pussy print."

Neyla's eyes shot open. "You want what?" Oh she heard him right, but she just couldn't believe it.

"I want you to spread your legs, and press your sex into the canvas."

Neyla looked down, to do what he wanted would involve spreading her legs straight outward to her sides, a perfect 180ø split. She thought back quickly, figuring the most she's ever split was 80ø, maybe 90ø; but 180ø was totally out of the question.

"I've never done that before; I don't think I can."

"Are you scared? After what you just did?"

For the first time, possibly one of the only times in her life, Neyla was actually scared of the challenge before her; anything Dimitri had her do was certainly freaky, and worried her, but this could be painful. She had never before turned down a challenge, and always looked at adversity with an eye for an opportunity to turn things to her favour, but how on Earth is trying to split yourself in two through the crotch supposed to turn out good?

Neyla looked at the huge blob of yellow on the canvas, mostly covering the blue splotches from earlier. Surely such a thing was no work of art, it didn't look finished, it didn't look beautiful, it just looked odd; Neyla couldn't believe that she actually went through all that fuss just to create this mess. For a moment, she almost thought about taking a page from Carmelita's book and smashing the atrocious thing over Dimitri's head; payback for the pain, the humiliation, the stickiness, the...

"Oh what the fuck, let's do it."

Neyla stood over the painting, her legs straddled over the lower part of the picture; with Dimitri holding her hands for support, she lowered herself down by spreading her legs apart, slowly inching her feet apart. She could feel her muscles tightening as she descended, her legs getting close to the total split position needed to get her pussy to the canvas, the inner thigh muscles threatening to snap back and throw her totally off balance. Neyla had never been in such a position before; she was very athletic, and had tried numerous sexual positions before, but never this. As she went lower, she tried to pull on Dimitri to take as much weight of her stressed legs as possible, but he refused to give her anything but enough support to keep upright. In a last hopeless attempt, Neyla even tried to use her tail for balance; but with only a few pounds of force, it was of no help at all.

The first sign that the end was near came when she felt the edges of the canvas touching her inner thighs; only another inch to go and her crotch would be on the canvas. Just as every motion was harder than the last, actually reaching the canvas was the hardest part of the whole ordeal; with one last push, Neyla reached the bottom, her meaty thighs resting on the fabric while her pussy was just barely grazing the surface. No, resting would be the wrong term, it still took a lot of effort to keep her legs stretched out, and it wasn't getting easier over time; adding to the problem was the near impossibility of staying upright, and Neyla was in a precarious position indeed.

"Are you on the canvas?"

"Yeah, just barely; I'm up on my legs."

"Then let's try rolling you."

Using Neyla's lower body like an ink roller, Dimitri rocked Neyla backwards a little; the cat was caught of guard and almost fell over with the shift in weight. Levelling herself with Dimitri, she rolled her pelvis back until the bottom of her butt touched the canvas; Dimitri pushed her just a little further, until she was resting much of her weight on her behind. Though it was nice to have some of the stress off her legs, Neyla still had to fight to keep her legs from snapping closed and ruining the painting.

The artist pulled back on his new brush, bringing Neyla forward off her butt, and back on her legs; he pulled her forward, and Neyla rocked her pelvis accordingly, rolling forward until more of her pussy was pressing into the paint. Rolling as far as her legs would let her, more of her sex was coming in contact, until she could feel the rough texture on her clit. Despite all the action she had today, her little sensory organ was totally unused. Touching it sparked her back to arousal, it had been waiting for action ever since she took off her clothes, and it was hungry for stimulation.

Neyla wanted to rub her clit into the canvas, but Dimitri started rocking her back towards her butt, leaving her completely unsatisfied. Disappointed, Neyla rocked back and waited until she rocked forward again; this time, she would rock forward more forcefully onto her clit, and gave an indication to Dimitri to hold her there, in the form of a soft moan. He noticed the signal, and allowed her to stay on her front for a little longer before rocking her back.

{What a slut.}

Now that she was getting used to the motion, Neyla only just noticed that her head was almost in line with Dimitri's cock. Getting aroused again by her rocking, she was surprised to find that Dimitri was totally flaccid, so she rectified that by leaning forward and licking Dimitri's soft meat.

"You just can't get enough, can you?"

Dimitri was getting another hard-on, and Neyla took it in her mouth; she started by mouthing it, applying only minimal pressure, stroking the flesh with her gritty tongue; but as her own fires grew, she sucked on it harder and harder. Neyla released Dimitri's hands, preferring to steady herself by grabbing his hips, and he responded by placing his hands on her shoulders to continue guiding her. When Neyla rocked forward, she opened her mouth and leaned in, taking in the full length of Dimitri's cock; when she rocked back, she sucked on it as her head pulled away. In a few rocks, Dimitri was at full staff, and was ready to release right in the cat's mouth.

"Oh, that is so good."

Neyla had given Dimitri enough, she had brought him just shy of climax, and it was time for him to give her something. Moving her hands slowly to the front to avoid tipping off Dimitri, Neyla placed her left on his balls, fondling them, while the right stroked his cock as her mouth moved away. With his genitals secure, Neyla squeezed.

"Gargh!"

"Now you listen, and listen good. We know the Klaww Gang has the rest of the Clockwerk parts, and I know you know where at least some of those members are."

"You... you bitch..."

"That's not a nice thing to say." Neyla squeezed Dimitri's balls harder, wondering just how much force would be needed to squash the little things like grapes.

Dimitri screamed out again.

"You've been doing a lot of business with a gentleman named Rajan; is he a member of the Klaww Gang?"

"Y-yes."

"You're not just saying that to get on my good side are you?"

"Y-yes... I m-mean no, he really is."

"You've been buying a lot of spices from him, what's the deal with that? Is there something special about the spices, or are you running some other business on the side with him?"

"It's a cover, to talk business, and to arrange for other shipments and money exchange."

Neyla knew he was lying, but it was an answer that she could give Interpol if needed.

"Who else is in the Klaww Gang? Who's the leader?"

Dimitri was in a panic; he was worried what would happen if he didn't answer to Neyla, but he also worried what the Contessa waiting just outside might do if he gave a full answer.

"I... I don't know any of the others... Rajan was the only one I..."

Neyla squeezed a bit, after loosening her grip slightly over the last few answers. "You don't know?!"

"In Canada, a man named Bison; he's responsible for shipping the Klaww Gang's assets and money in his shipping organization."

"Anyone else?"

"Arpeggio... he's the one who modified the tail feathers so I could use them as printing plates."

"Is he the brains of the outfit?"

"There is no 'leader', it's just a few of us who got together to work as a group; but he's the one who came up with the plan to steal the Clockwerk parts."

"And who else is there?"

"I... I don't know anyone else, a few other small time crooks who had dealings with the others I suppose."

"Do any of them have Clockwerk parts?"

"Rajan and Bison have some, Arpeggio has the head, I don't know about any others."

"And what about you? You had the tail feathers; did you have any other parts stashed away?"

"No."

"No?" Neyla squeezed, Dimitri squealed.

"One other part... I have the beak; I was using the hardened tip to chisel forged statues."

"Where is this art studio?"

"Spain... Madrid."

Neyla heard enough, she had retrieved enough information out of him that she could direct Interpol in an investigation, even though the interrogation didn't go completely by the book; and more importantly, she got the little tidbit she was looking for, without giving herself away to Dimitri, or the Contessa. Neyla clamped her lips around Dimitri's captive member, released her iron clad grip, and sucked on it like nothing before. Dimitri felt like his cock was stuck in a vacuum cleaner, and with the lock on his genitals gone, he unloaded right into Neyla's mouth.

"Aaaahhh..."

With the huge release, Dimitri went totally flush, and fainted, leaving Neyla spread out over his painting with a mouthful of cum.

The tigress stood up, the canvas stuck to her underside for a moment, but fell away as she moved her legs around to stand up. She walked over to Dimitri, about to spit the blob of cum over him, but changed her mind, and swallowed it. {What the hell, he knows how to show a girl a good time; it's the least I could do.}

"I don't know much about art, but it does capture a certain... passion."

Neyla looked over to see the Contessa standing there, looking down at the painting.

"So that's what 'kinetic aesthetic' is; no wonder the art world panned him."

"Everyone's a critic." Neyla chortled.

The Contessa took another look at Dimitri's half naked form lying on the floor. "And it looks like you gave him the roughest criticism of his life. I hope you haven't done irreparable damage to him."

"I'm sure he'll survive the review, and he's learned a few new 'tricks of the trade'."

"Yes. I must say that you have an interesting technique, I would love to see you try it on a few of my other more hardened prisoners."

Neyla smirked. "I'm not about to give a blow job to every man in this place."

"I've got a few female prisoners if you like."

"Please, after dealing with Fox for the last two months, I have no interest in girls." The pair shared a laugh at Carmelita's expense.

"I assume you would prefer to have a shower before you got dressed?"

Neyla thought she could easily take a few minutes to clean up, though there was be paint in places that would need a month of showers to get out.

"I could go for a shower."

=========================

Outside the prison, Neyla was talking on her cell phone.

"Everything went perfectly."

"And the beak?"

"Dimitri has another studio in Madrid, the beak is there; he was using it to create forged statues."

On the other end of the conversation, Arpeggio let out a brief laugh. "Obviously, I shouldn't have expected more of that reprobate. And what of the Contessa?"

"She had to observe the 'interrogation', so she knows everything."

"Good, I'll wait until she updates me before we move; if I go early it would tip her off that I've been spying on her. She's probably thinking that she could try to get it for herself, but with her position, she'll have no choice but to call me. What will you tell your superiors at Interpol?"

"I have to file a report, but the red tape should keep them from moving on it for a few days. The Contessa will have to file a report too, but she'll want to give us time to retrieve the part, so she'll delay a bit as well."

"What about your partner, would Miss Fox try to expedite things?"

"Possibly, but when I tell her Rajan's involved, she might aim her temper at him, especially if I drop the hint that Sly Cooper is heading there next; she has a certain thing for him."

"Excellent. And what is your take of this Sly Cooper fellow?"

"He's a fool; he's too concerned with getting the Clockwerk parts that he's left himself totally open to a major fall. As long as he believes that I'll play nice with him to capture the Klaww Gang, I can keep him wrapped around my little finger. But I'm not above using some more serious means if I have to."

"Of course you will... Hold on." Arpeggio's voice disappeared for a moment. "That's probably the Contessa now, I'll contact you later."

"Neyla, out."

Neyla closed the cell phone, and put it in her pocket.

"Sly Cooper... I wonder how far you'd go for a pretty face."

End