Legal: Lupin III Characters are ©Monkey Punch. Used without Permission. Anthro Versions are ©Spug. Ashley Keibu is ©Spug/SunCoon. This fic may be freely distributed, but not altered in anyway.
Warnings: Yaoi. Angst. Dark. Major Non Consent. Furries. Language.
Summary: This is based on Role-plays between SunCoon and myself, and my own dark twisted mind. It’s an Anthro Story. So if you don’t like male furries fucking other male furries. Don’t read.


In the Name of the Law
By Spug

It was not a broads name.
No. Asshole.

Take one damn look at the him. How could one dare tease him about being a woman?
Fuck. He stood over six and a half feet. Broad shoulder. Strong muzzled. True Raccoons weren’t suppose to be big creatures. Maybe it was a mutation in his genes. But his ringed tail alone could have engulfed another of his species.

Inspector Ashley Keibu could NOT be mistaking for a woman.
Ashley.
Ashley.
Girlie named Ashley.

His deputies called him that behind his back. His Chief snickered when the door was shut. Ashley. Fuck em. Making fun of his name was a deadly game, and no one dared do it to his face anyway.

Cept one.

The coon engulfed his little patrol car. Hutched over his steering wheel. If being a big gray furred Raccoon was intimidating enough; he dawned the brown ankle length trench coat and slid down hat. A cigar hanging out of the corner his mouth. Pouring toxic fumes out the crack of the window. It was pouring outside.

Big fat droplets that threatened to chip the windshield. Almost hail. But not quite. Green narrowed eyes peered into the rearview mirror. Watching the rain land on the trunk of his car. A slow smirk curled those black rimmed lips.

Does this guy look like a girl to you, Punk?

Seven more blocks and he turned out of the city and onto a muddy country road. Not giving one worry about getting stuck. The little gremlin modeled white and black patrol car continued it’s way up the road. Dodging tree branches and anything else the storm had blown into the road.

Fifteen minutes drive up this muddy road till he reached a gated driveway. Black furred paws engulfed the emergency break, stalling the patrol car. He kicked the car door open and stood out of the vehicle. Snorting out smoke, the large figure, dragging his heavy-stripped tail in the mud, tromped to the gate. Bending down to swivel the combination, and then swung the heavy iron thing open.

It creaked it submission as it moved out of the way. Not giving a fuck that he was drenched, he climbed halfass back into the car, leaving the door open, and drove the little vehicle into the driveway past the gate before he would stall it again.

Out once more, dragging tail and ends of his trench coat in the mud, getting soaked through to his fur. The gate was reclosed, and once more chained and locked. Company was not appreciated this far up the muddy driveway.

Unless he brought them there himself.

Trudging back to the car, he sloshed his drenched form back into the car and drove the rest of the mile up the muddy road to a rather large and dark house that sat at the top of the hill. The house of Usher could have looked more inviting. So it was dark and creepy. No one was going to dare break in a rob it.

He fucking hated thieves. And if the dark scared them away. Good.

Pulling up into an open garage. The car was finally stalled for the night. The engine croaked and died. Once more the big raccoon emerged from the vehicle. Without the trackless effect of the muddy road, the car squeaked and rose off its axels.

He was a big fucking Coon.

Grinding out his cigar in an ashtray by the door. He pushed open the heavy wooden item and stepped into the house. Tracking mud and dripping cold water onto the annlium floor. Keys were tossed up on the kitchen table, along with his hat. A black furred finger flicked a single switch at the end of the kitchen and most of the house slipped from its gloom and darkness.

Splat. Soggy wet and muddy coat was shrugged off and tossed into the laundry room. Along with those mud cake boots. Under the layer of dark brown, the coon wore a suit tailored especially for his large frame. Snorting the Inspector headed for the bathroom.

His house was plain. Sparsely decorated. More so for the fact that he spent most of his time at the HQ. Or off other places chasing idiots who were so moronic as to break the goddamn law. He was nothing if he didn’t uphold this sacred rules and guidelines that the government sent?

Right?
Right?
RIGHT?

But sometimes those criminals went past the lines they’d already crossed, and broke personal boundaries.
Those were the really stupid ones.

Stepping into the bathroom, the raccoon shed the rest of his clothing, and turned on the shower. Having to nearly squeeze his frame into the small space, he proceeded to wash the mud, rain and tiredness away. But the water would only due so much. It did little to rinse away his mood, his hatred or other things that plagued him.

Large black paws shut the water off and he squeezed back out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, that large gray and black form was giving a run through. Ruffling and toweling till his fur was fluffed and only mildly damp.

Heading into his bedroom, he ruffled through his dresser till he found a pair of black sweat pants. Shrugging into them, and fastening the specially made back around the base of his large tail. That was better. He was clean now.

But he still felt dirty.

Straggling back into the kitchen. The raccoon made himself a cup of hot tea, and then headed into his living room. Flopping down into an oversized chair. He let out a low growl, and sipped the hot beverage, listening to the storm grow steadily worse. Rectangular ears flickered occasionally against his masked face. One big black paw tapped irritated against the thread-bared armrest.

Fifteen minutes.
Thirty.
One hour.

Okay. He didn’t feel like killing anymore.
It was time to take care of the trash.

Leaving his empty cup on the coffee table. The Inspector rose out of his chair. His now dry fur shiny and lusterless. Heavy tail dragging on the floor behind him. Shirtless form moved back into the kitchen and picked up his car keys. Moving past the kitchen, he stepped over his muddy boots and opened the door to the garage.

Leaving that door open, he approached his muddy little patrol car and stepped around to the back of it. Slipping the keys into the latch and then he popped the trunk.

“Awe? Still sleeping, kid? You little shit.”

The raccoon's muzzle broke into a rather dangerous smirk as he reached into his trunk. Big black paws curling into strands of silken black, and he hurled the feline out of the car by his hair.

Unconscious, slack. The lion was a pitiful sight. Not really a good subject to be called a king of beast. Too thin, too light. Long and skinny. His mane was much straighter and hung in that golden furred face. Feline maw parted in his knocked out state. Ashley Keibu snorted a chuckle and then hurled the young lion over his shoulder with out even a show of exhilaration.

The feline was dressed in a very mussed up gray pinstripe suit. The pants fitting with a belt around his skinny hips, but unbuckled. Hands handcuffed behind his slender back. Long whip like tail dangling dead like between his thighs. The raccoon turned to let the trunk slam shut, but almost forgetting he reached back in and pulled out a matching gray hat. Because the shit had some weird obsession with the stupid thing.

Heading back into the house, with the feline over his shoulder, he moved passed the kitchen, past the living room, past the bathroom and his own bedroom, and headed upstairs. Hat clutched in one hand the hat. He reached the top of the stairs and took a right. Kicking open the last door in the hallway and flickered on the light. Exposing a small bedroom. Bared windows, A single bed.

Shrugging his shoulders, he dumped the handcuffed feline onto the bed, and moved over to the window, he sat the hat on the sill. Big black paws tested the bars and he snorted with satisfaction. Licking his maw slightly, he moved back over to where the unconscious feline laid and wrapped a paw into his mane, jerking the lion’s head upward. But the rest of that thin body continued to stay slack.

“ Fucking piece of shit. Couldn’t cooperate could you? Just wanted to keep running yer fucking mouth? I warned yah. Had to push my buttons, didn’t yah? Jigen? Jiigen. Wake up, boy. “ He gave a shake to that unconscious head and snarled in disgust as the feline refused to wake up. Must have giving the shit way too much of that fucking tranquilizer.

He used one paw and rolled the feline onto his stomach. A sadistic smile forming over the raccoons face as he let his emerald eyes skirt down the criminal’s form. Yes. Criminal. A thief. A fucking thief who crossed way to far over the line. A fucking thief who just couldn’t sign the damn confession papers.

A fucking thief who dared make fun of his name to his face.

“ Wake up, Shitface. Wake up, or I’ll fucking kill you! “

No response. Ashley slammed his fists onto the bed, and growled. He wanted the kid to be conscious, to hear what he had to say, and so he could beat the fucking law into him.

But that wasn’t going to happen right now.

The coon growled and shifted himself onto the bed. The little twin gave a dangerous moan as that large bulk settled knee to knee on either side of the lion’s legs. His large stripped tail dangled down over the end of the bed. Big black paws landed on the lion’s unbuckled pants and with one swift pull, he yanked the items completely off the golden furred body.

No response. Not even a fucking flinch of the feline’s body. Ashley growled.
It didn’t matter. Just cause the damn kid wasn’t awake, wasn’t gonna stop him.

Stop him from doing what?
From doing something he’d never done before.
Till he got his paws on this little shit.
Something illegal.
Something that was probably worse then what the feline did.
But not in Inspector’s eyes.
He’d put the law in the little shits body.

He’d fuck him.
Again.
Even if he wasn’t conscious.

There was still blood stained on the feline’s backside. A shock against that lovely golden fur. He was such a pretty kitten. Couldn’t haven been more then twenty-one or two. He had the cutest little starting mane around his chin. Just looking at him set the older Coons temper flaring. How could they go so bad when they were so young? But it also made his cock hard. He shoved his own pants down to his knees.

Illegal
Dirty.
He was old enough to be this damn kid’s father.
He should have had respect for his elders.
If not that. For the law.

But no.
Stead of signing his confession about where he and that damn wolf, the one that got away, busted into the jewelry store. The little shit took one look at Ashley’s name.

‘ Wahahahaaha, Pops, you'd gots a frikkin’ Dames name. Ashleeeey! Asssshley! Wearing panties too? ‘

Growling he forcefully shoved the unconscious feline against the headboard, shoving his already abused ass upward. One big black paw snatched that limp whip like tail and yanked, keeping the slack body poised. One knee to keep those slender furred thighs apart, He shoved himself forward. Burying that throbbing aching, illegally used arousal all the way to the hilt inside the feline.

It was much easier this time.

The first time. “ I’ll show you who should be wearing panties you little bitch! “ Fuck. The little shit had been tight. Pinned hard against the interrogation table. Ashley had decided to show the feline just how much of a broad he really was. Rough and violent, pushing the handcuffed little thief down hard on the metal table.

He’d raped him.
In the name of the law.
To show him who was the girl.
Because the little shit dared to taunt him.

He’d raped him.
Then.
Now.
And why it brought so much pleasure to him was beyond the raccoons conception.
Maybe fucking the little shit brought some kind of sick revenge against all the secret taunting nobody knew he over heard.

Ashley Keibu was not a broad.
Could a broad fuck someone like this???

Grinding furred hips hard against the unconscious lion’s backside. It didn’t take long. He’d wanted Jigen awake for this. The little shit acted so strangely. And he made such lovely noises.

Growling, pressing. Another hard thrust and he emptied himself into the unconscious lion. Shivering, panting. And then he shoved the limp form away, and pulled his large form off the bed. Hitching back up his sweatpants, he gave another glaring look at the limp form on the bed.

“ Nap it off kid, You and me gotta lot of laws to work on.”

Thick ringed tail dragged on the floor as he headed out of the barred room. Locking the door behind him. Thuds sounded as his bare paws hit each step. Shoulders hutched forward. He headed for the shower.

He felt dirty.
But satisfied.
For now.

A smirk played havoc on his black lined maw as he stepped into the bathroom, preparing another shower.
He couldn’t wash away how dirty he felt.
Only doing it again made him feel like he was doing the right thing.
Kid had to learn.
You don’t fuck with the law.
The law fucks with you.

And the law likes it.

The End.