Knotted Confessions

Knotted Confessions


The pudgy badger glanced over the few papers stapled together on the clipboard as he walked down the long hall toward the interrogation room. He was sweating in his police uniform, which had never before felt more claustrophobic than it did right now. His was a crowded department in a big city with not much room for advancement. It was not surprising that he had been on the force for nine years and hadn't really been promoted to a leadership role.

"Good morning, Leonard," said one of the other officers to him, as he walked past their desk. He was too zoned-out to respond.

Today, his career was either going to soar, or it was going to crash and burn. The Chief of Police, Mr. Raymont, had been visible in his office speaking to some stiff men in sharp black suits a few minutes before, though the soundproof glass muffled their conversation. Despite that the suits weren't all canines, he imagined them all having the intimidating faces of jackals. The officer had no idea what they were talking about in there, and he wasn't told anything except that he was going to be interrogating the suspect.

The suspect. Jesus, the suspect. Mark Chicopay, a small and mean-looking tan fennec whose face and name had been plastered all over the news for the past half-day. The information on the papers was brief and largely reflected what he — shit, what everyone — already knew. Only the Chief knew why Leonard had been selected to interrogate someone so important, but that was just the way the tail wagged. Maybe he was finally being given the chance to show his worth.

He took a deep breath when he reached the door with the brass plate engraved: "Interrogation Room 3", grasped the knob slowly as if afraid it might shock him, and then turned it open. He walked into the room. As expected, the suspect was already there, sitting in a metal chair at a metal table on bare concrete, looking even smaller than ever with his feet hanging far above the ground. The chain from his pawcuffs ran through a loop attached to the table, which was bolted to the floor. Standing next to him was a tall lion with a chest so broad it made his security uniform look about ready to tear apart. A bright light hummed above them. As soon as the officer entered, the lion excused himself and left the interrogation room.

It took until the time he was situated in his own chair across from the exhausted-looking fennec, his back to the one-way glass, for the officer to relax enough to be suddenly hit by the stench. It smelled like a small room where an entire liquor cabinet had been knocked over, and that was mingled with body odor and a subtle smell of sex. Had he possessed a canine nose, he might even have been able to identify more scents — he was glad he could not. Across from him, the suspect looked even more like a cub, with only his head, shoulders, and arms really visible above the table. A tiny comedian in the back of his head asked whether they should have gotten him some books to sit on. With some effort, he pushed away the desire to smile, and set a grim look on his muzzle.

The officer cleared his throat, and began to speak. "Mister Mark Chicopay. Age: thirty-seven, species: vulpes zerda, occupation: currently working part time at the Brass Spitoon Pub and Grill, as a bartender."

"Yeah, yeah. You don't need to tell ME all that shit, Mister L. Quinley," said the suspect, reading the officer's name tag.

"It's Leonard," he said, "but you may address me as 'Officer Quinley', or just 'Officer'."

"Whatever. Let's just get this over with."

"You are aware of the charges against y—?"

He was cut off when the fennec threw back his head and let out a burst of surprisingly deep-throated laughter. It made Leonard wrinkle his nose and squint his eyes at the clouds of booze he coughed into the air.

"Oh, c'mon, 'Officer'!" he said. "I know damn well we both know what I'm here for. I know y'watched the news, I know y'heard the names the reporters CALLED ME, the shit they said I did. Rapist this, predator that. As if I was some big scary guy like a tiger or some shit. Eatin' kids like a witch. Hahaha!"

Leonard wrinkled his nose again. The man had clearly spent most of the hours-long standoff, holed up in his house, drinking heavily. He had sobered up a little since being dragged in and left in the interrogation room, but only JUST a little.

"Well, regardless, I have to tell you," he said, putting down the papers. "For the record."

The fennec crossed his arms with a dramatic sigh. "Go on."

"Right now, the DA is pushing for cub rape in the first degree. We might be able to lower that down to unlawful sexual contact with a minor, provided you detail a full confession."

"Rape," said Mark, in a way like he was spitting out something foul-tasting. "That's fuckin' insulting. Typical media shitstorm."

"That's why we need you to tell us what happened. If there was no violence or physical force involved, and evidence taken from the cub corroborates, then the charges in court will reflect that."

"Wait, okay, fine! I'll fuckin' tell you. Just don't shove a probe up his ass or any of that kinda shit. Please! It's bad enough you've got him in a room like this tellin' him for the next three days nonstop how he's been 'violated' or whatever shit. Fuck, man!"

Leonard's eyes sparkled. He had an in. "Well, if you confess and then later plead guilty in court, the boy will not have to appear to testify. I'll see what I can do about getting any further medical exams canceled."

"Okay, okay. Ya got me, Officer Quinn Medicine Man," he said, raising his arms and making the chain rattle. "I'll give you everything, on one other condition."

"What is that?"

"Tell me: how did th'cops know? They came barging right up to the door like they were on a mission from God. They had'a been tipped off."

"That's right. Someone saw the cub enter your home, and then later called the police when they heard what they described as 'lewd noises'."

"Oh ho, don't you start with that 'they' bullshit! I know it was that nosy fuck gramma bear from next door. Sticks her bitch nose into everyone's business like it was prize-winnin' honey."

"I'm afraid that I am not at liberty to discuss who the tip came from."

"Fine, fine. Whatever. I know it was her. Thanks."

Leonard smiled to himself. This was going well. Was the reason he had been chosen because the Chief knew the suspect would cave very quickly in interrogation, and so didn't need to use a more experienced officer? He supposed that it didn't matter.

"Okay then, now if you would please tell me what happened."

The fennec shrugged, shook his head, and mumbled: "S'not much to tell. I confess. I did it. I had sex with... ah, shouldn't say his name I guess. ...with the boy. Invited him over for the usual shit. And we had sex. Made too much FUCKIN' noise, it seems."

"Is this the only time the two of you have had sex?"

"Ahh...," he grew pale and said nothing.

"I don't want to have to ask him. I need a FULL confession in order to help you out with the charges, and to keep the boy out of it."

Mark looked at the table, crestfallen, his ears drooping. "And they say I'm the nasty animal. You sure know how t'poke a man where it hurts, Officer. Yeah, we've done it before. Ten... maybe twelve times in the last few weeks. But we knew each other almost six months now. The sex thing is really sorta new. He was the one that started it, if you'll believe me. Fuck, of course you won't. Nobody will."

Leonard busied himself writing some things down on his notepad, and said nothing for several seconds. 'Keep the suspect talking' was the name of the game, and sometimes the best way to do it was just let 'em spill when they were about to. This guy's bucket was about at the tipping point.

"You know," Mark continued. "I can tell what you're thinkin', what they're all thinkin'. That I'm using the fact that I'm a small fox t'seduce cubs or some shit."

"I'm not thinking that. You've never done this before, right?"

"No! You've got my rap sheet right there," he said, pointing wildly. "You know plain as the ears on my head that I'm not that kinda guy. I'm clean!"

The officer looked through his pages of information. "Couple drunk-and-disorderly, public intoxication, petty theft, one assault that was dropped. Nothing big or important. Nothing really dangerous like this. It's clear you have a problem, and—"

"It's not like that! I'm not into kids. I've never been into kids. I'm never been into GUYS, for fuck's sake. I'm straight, y'know! But he's... it's just... Bah, you wouldn't understand."

He set down his pen, slid aside the pile of papers, and said: "Just try me."

"He's perfect for me. I've told him that a billion times. It's not just the sex. He's kind, gentle, and really smart for a kid. Shit like that. He laughs at my bad jokes, and tells 'em right back to me. He's the only reason I don't end up shitmuzzled like this every day. More importantly..."

"...go on."

"More importantly, he knows me. He knows what I need. Like I said: real smart. The funny thing is, if I were with, like, another guy that was much bigger than me, I'd have to be submissive. Even with a woman, it seems she's always the one in charge. So you'd think that I'd get with a kid the same size as me, just so I could have a chance to be dominant. But it ain't like that! Somehow... fuckin' somehow I'm still submissive with him. He holds me and it's so warm, an' it makes me feel loved and needed and wanted. Ah, sure, sometimes he lets me be on top, but that doesn't happen every time. Just when he knows I really need it.

"I can't really 'splain it any better. He gets me. Not like he can read my mind, it's just that he can read my face. He's real, uh, real..."

"Perceptive?"

"I know the word! Yeah, perceptive. From the first day I met 'im, it was like that. He doesn't seem like a kid. Kids'r dumb as bricks, even compared to me, and I ain't no bright crayon in this big box'a crayons we call Earth. He's not like that. His eyes are old as dirt, old like I remember my grand-daddy's eyes being."

"So you're not just attracted to him because he is a cub?"

"Nah. Like I said, he's not much like a kid. I wouldn't care either way. He's perfect, and I guess some part'a that is he's small, but it's not the most important part."

"But his being your size has something to do with it? Right?"

"It's not that I'm attracted to him because he's small. We just... y'know... We can actually... get stuck."

"...stuck? I don't follow."

"Y'know, when we have sex. We get knotted. Like for real."

Leonard narrowed his eyes at the terrible picture this forced to rise in his mind. He grunted, feeling as if there wasn't anything else to be gained here, and stood up. The papers rustled together as he piled them into a loose stack, and the sound of his pen clicking closed was almost painfully loud in the empty stone room.

"Feh," the fennec snorted. "Tol'ja so."

"What?" He stopped halfway in his walk to the door.

"That you wouldn't get it. You're not even a canine so I don't even think you CAN get it. What it's like. How much you NEED it. Bein' knotted properly."

Against his better judgement, against the spin of revulsion in his stomach at the idea of being told gritty details of sex with a cub, he went back and sat down. "Okay, fine. Enlighten me. I'm all ears." The comedian inside tried to add a punchline about the suspect literally being all ears.

Mark let out another dramatic sigh, and scrubbed his paws over his face as if frustrated. The pawcuff chain rattled loudly. Leonard gave him a tilted-head look. The bucket tilted, and started to spill.

"I wasn't a virgin, when I had sex with him the first time. Not by a long-shot. Him neither, actually, from what he told me. Anyway. My first girlfriend was when I was straight outta high school. I didn't have any money for college, no scholarship o' anythin'. So I went straight to the parties. Slept on couches and ate other people's food. You're supposed to party when you're almost twenty. Chicks liked me because I was 'cute'. Didn't want to FUCK me, usually, but they liked me. Guys kept me around because it brought the chicks to the parties. Took me way too fuckin' long to figure out why they called me 'friend'.

"Her name was Jasmine. Stereotype, I know. But it was real. Between us, really. We were together for three years, almost four, before shit happened. Before my booze happened. Before her coke happened. Before her just-paroled-ex happened, and then she didn't happen no more, if you get my drift. Anyway, we had a lotta love, but the sex was just... okay. We lost our virgnity together. Now, I'm not a BIG fox, as I'm sure you can guess, but she was tiny. Her snatch, I mean. She was a cheetah, and cats are hung like babies from what I hear. I believe it, biology and all. I could never get all the way inside her or she'd start to hurt. So every time I had to finish by squeezin' my own knot. It was fuckin' miserable, like pawing off except a little wetter. But she always came, so I kept doing it 'cause I loved her.

"Anyway, after that ended I rode the goddamn Express Train between Shitsville and Sadtown for a long time. I made love to nothin' but the bottle after I lost her. An' one night I actually got a chance again. I was boozed out my fuckin' mind so hard I don't even remember what species she was. Somethin' a lot bigger than me. Maybe she was a whore the guy who ran the party had to keep the guys happy. I got all the way inside her, an' it was pretty good, but she just pulled away and left after I came. Hotdog down a hallway, so we didn't get stuck for a second. She smelled like weed and shitty perfume. That's all I really remember.

"I got all the way to thirty thinkin' I was never going to actually experience getting knotted for real. Th'girls my size all end up as pretty-pretty chicks for rich wolves and lions. Like goddamn' dress-up dolls for 'em. I never had any chance with any. Never had, never would, never will. That's just the way the tail wags, y'know? Sad story of our world.

"Anyway, sometime a couple years later, I land a new girlfriend. Bitchy fox girl, red fox though she dyed her fur black all over. Thought it made her look fancy, but it was more tramp than glam. She was ten years younger than me, and randy as fuck. I was desperate for anythin' I could get by then. She needed a place to stay, my apartment was available. It didn't take long 'fore she went from the couch to my bed. Y'know how it goes. I didn't tell her no.

"But the sex was good. It was damn good! Our first time made me feel like I was twenty again, and she was able to take me fully no problem. And when we came we got to kicking and biting and thrashing around and then I knotted inside her. Best cum I ever had. And she was going, too, squeezing around me and she was screamin' and lovin' it."

His big ears suddenly folded almost flat, and he put his head in his paws and struggled to speak. "...an' then she p-pushed against me... an'... an' I jus' popped right outta her. Jus' like that. F-fuck!"

It took several minutes of muffled sniffling and shaking for the fennec to compose himself and continue. "We... we had sex a lot, after that. I tried not to let her know how much it fucked me up not being able to get properly stuck t'her. I don't gotta Napoleon Complex. I got through all'a school never bein' that shitty short kid that picks fights, and it never really bothered me 'cause I was just born a small fox. Can't fight biology. But with her... it was the only time in my life I've ever felt inadequate for being small.

"I never told her that, when we were done that first time, and she fell asleep, that I just started cryin' like a stupid worthless kid. I cried myself t'sleep. Felt alone even though I wasn't. But I think she knew. Somehow. Whenever we had sex missionary, she'd wrap her paws and legs around me real tight so I couldn't go nowhere. But I was unfulfilled. It wasn't right. Every single time, I knew that we weren't actually stuck together. It felt good, but it was still just a lie.

"And then the booze happened again. That fuckin' Express Train picked me up again. She found another apartment, and then another boyfriend. A big wolf a foot taller than her, and with a fat bulge in his fuckin' skinny-jeans you could see from orbit. I knew he wouldn't'a had any trouble knotting her properly.

"And that's when HE found me. The cub. I didn't find him, oh ho, nope. Wasn't even looking."

"How did you meet?" asked Leonard.

"David Patterson Bridge, sometime like three or four in the morning. I'd drunk enough so I could walk there, but I was a bit too sloshed to really climb the fence on the side. Tried a couple times, and fell off a couple times... yeah, fell off on the WRONG fuckin' side of the fence! So I'm tryin' to climb up again. My paws are bleeding 'cause the metal is rusty and it hurts like balls, an' then HE walks up. Outta nowhere. Weird kid, looks like a half fox and half 'coon with a tail almost as big as he is. I don't even hear him walking up. He's got real soft backpaws, and as m'sure you can guess, not much escapes my ears.

"An' then he says: 'You let go, and I'm gonna have to jump in there after ya.' So I just turn around, give him a dirty look. He says: ' It would hurt. I'm not saying it wouldn't. Tell you the truth, I'm a lot more concerned about that water bein' so cold.'

"Now, it's fuckin' July, and there's about maybe three inches of fuckin' sewage and trash down there because this is goddamn LA and it never rains. I'm hanging on the fence and this kid I never met before is quoting Titanic at me. He says: 'You ever been to Wisconsin?' I forget what th' fuck I'm doing and yell back: 'I know what ice fishing is!' and he just starts t'laugh. Tells me I skipped a line. I laugh, too. Hangin' on a rusty fence and laughing." And then Mark starts to chuckle for real.

Leonard can't help but smile.

"But then," he says, his face growing intense, "he gives me this look. And that was the first time I saw how old his eyes are. He tells me that if we both jump, he'll survive, but I definitely won't. I don't get it, but I climb down anyway. He tells me that it's not worth it. Says life is precious. Says death is the easy way, and life ain't s'posed to be easy. He walks off and leaves me.

"Next night, I get drunk again, and I go for a walk again. Same bridge, but this time I don't climb the fence. Don't wanna climb it. Don't wanna die. I want to see him again, so I sit there. For hours. Sun rises, but o' course he doesn't come. Why would he? I go home, and he's sitting outside the apartment complex. He laughs and runs up when he sees me, tail all a-waggin', an' he's got a backpack on like he's supposed to be headin' to school. Shows me what's inside it. DVD player new in the box and a still-plastic-wrapped DVD of Titanic. An' he smiles at me like nobody ever has."

"So you invited him in and watched the movie?"

"Yeah, and that was ALL. I think he's really nice. Little bit lonely, didn't seem like the kinda cub that had a lotta friends. Told me bunch'a stuff I didn't know about the real Titanic. We start hangin' out almost every day. Watching movies, playing games. I can't afford shit, but he always brings the stuff he wants to watch or play. Always new shit. Guess he gets his parents to buy him whatever he wants. I'm not dumb. I know hybrid kids always got parents that are fuckin' loaded."

The officer opened his muzzle, about to say that the cub lived in an orphanage and thus must have stolen all those things, but he did not.

"But yeah, it got complicated," the fennec went on. "I started t'have feelings 'cause I've never been close to someone like that, least of all a cub. I never had someone to just have fun with, fun that ain't just sports and booze. Sometimes I'd complain about shit, and unlike everyone else, he'd just sit there and listen. Sometimes he'd have real good advice, too. Sometimes I'd get drunk, and before it went from fun to the ol' Express Train, he'd take it away and tell me I had enough. My own father couldn't stop me drinkin', but he did. Didn't hafta force me. Jus' told me to stop, and I did.

"When I got canned from my last job, I called up an old buddy and asked 'im for some smack. He gives me a discount and it still pretty much blows my savings. I didn't wanna feel nothin' for a week. Wanna chase the dragon. I bring it home, and he's there, and... fuck, I don't know how... he just takes it away from me! Flushes it down the toilet. Breaks my needles. Sits me down on the couch and asks me what's wrong. He holds my paw and listens. I cry. He hugs me. Somehow we kiss... and it's not a quick one, neither. Now, a few times I got drunk and happy enough to consider kissin' him, like when we're laughin' and shit. But right then I'm as sober as a priest on Sunday, and I don't know how it happened."

"Did you have sex?" Leonard is writing again, but Mark pays no attention.

"Yeah. First time. He tells me that I don't need that shit. He tells me that he doesn't want to see me get hurt, that he has lots of fun with me and likes me. I tell him that I wanna feel his fur against mine. He tells me that he wants to show me something better than drugs. Grabs my paw. Takes me to the bedroom. Kisses me and takes my clothes off and then takes off his. Our bodies just fit together. When he's naked, I can see how... small... he is, and I know that he's just a cub, that he's only as tall as me because I'm a small fox. But he touches me. Tells me it doesn't matter. He's got long claws and they scrape at my shoulders. I just fuckin' melt.

"He lets me top for our first time, but he's in charge th'whole way. He knows what he's doing more than I do. I tell him it's my first time with a boy. He laughs all cute and tells me it's his first time with an adult. It's not easy. We hafta take a long time and be careful. He tells me I'm really big, and o' course compared to him, I am. That was a new feeling for me, and I liked it. When I came, I didn't wanna swell inside him. Didn't wanna hurt him. But he pulled me in deep. He's so much stronger than me. I don't gotta choice. I knotted inside him, and, well... yeah.

"It was just like that first time with my ex-girlfriend. I made a lotta noise, and he bit my shoulder so hard it bled so he wouldn't be so loud, and I think he cummed, too, but it's hard to tell sometimes 'cause he just gets dry ones. For a second, suddenly I remember what happened with my girlfriend, and I'm scared it's gonna happen again. But it doesn't. And after we're done cumming, he tells me to try to pull my knot out. I tug back as hard as I can until he starts whinin', but it won't come out. We're stuck, REALLY stuck. It's just amazing. The feeling was more than just like normal. It didn't just feel good... it felt RIGHT. It was like I really jumped off that bridge and some idiot angel let me into Heaven after all, an' that was my first taste of it.

"After like half an hour, I finally come back out. He wants a turn, and I'm not gonna say no even though I've never bottomed or even thought about it. He shows me how t'clean out my ass, how to stretch and relax. He's real patient 'cause it takes hours. I've been dominated by women, but this is different. Submitting t'him just feels so natural. He's not very big, but I'm not experienced so it still hurts kinda. I don't care 'cause I want him to feel good. An' for a cub he's kinda got a big knot, I guess. Big enough. He gets stuck in me, too. It feels right that way, just like it does the other. His knots only last like five minutes, though. It's never long enough.

"We spent the rest of the day sleepin' and cuddling. My girls never did that. Always running off saying there's shit t'do and they always wanna take a shower right after. Like they wanna wash my scent off'a them right away. They say smellin' like sex ain't right in 'polite society' or whatever bullshit. But not this cub, nah. He likes my scent. Tells me because I cummed in him that he'll smell like me for days, anyway. Somethin' about the way it absorbs into the intestine or whatever. I like that. I tell him to mark me with his piss so I smell like him, too. When he does... I like that even more. His scent is really strong. It makes me feel safe, an' really secure like when we're knotted to each other.

"It's great. He lets me lie on top of him, with my legs between his and on his big tail. When no part of my body touches the bed, it feels like there's nothin' in the world but us. Just warm fur, and hot scent, and knots that are just big enough to do what they're supposed to do.

"I guess that's about it." By now, the little fennec is practically staring straight down at the table. "We did it a few more times, and then again this morning. Now you know why I let him out before telling the SWAT cops I had another hostage, an' before the reporters showed up. Didn't want him to get his face all over th'news like I did. Didn't wanna see him get hurt. Even though he tells me he can't die and... for some stupid fuckin' reason I believe him. For some stupid fuckin' reason I believe him when he says he's small like a cub but older than me, older than anyone. His eyes don't lie. His eyes are older then th'stars. He says he'll help me fight off the cops, and we'll run away together. I tell 'im that I'm done running. Been running all my life, gotta face reality now.

"Fuck. I must sound like a nutcase. I guess that's just how important knotting is to me. Gettin' stuck for real. Knew you wouldn't understand. Knew you wouldn't get why I'd risk everything knowing if I was caught it would end my life."

"No, I understand," Leonard says, putting down his pen. "I want to thank you for all this information, too. With how clear it is that you cared deeply for the cub, I am sure a judge will grant you leniency with the senten—"

The door to the interrogation room opened. Two of the suits that Leonard had previously seen walked in, silent as the dead. One of them carried a single key, and he wordlessly stepped forward to unlock the fennec's pawcuffs. The other looked stiffly at the officer, and reached into his black jacket.

"Oh, shit...!" Leonard barely had time to say, as he stood up with a start, his chair scraping across the concrete. He had nowhere to run. Now it made sense. They'd picked him for the interrogation because he was expendable.

The agent pulled out a small envelope, and handed it over. "Officer Leonard Quinley," he said. "These are your orders direct from the APA. Conceal them, take them to your office, read them once and then securely shred them. Chief Raymont has already been briefed. Please do not resist."

Without another word, the two of them escorted the fennec (amid his protests about "Mindy Rights") out the door and out of sight. Finally able to let out his held breath, the badger cop sank back down into his chair for a moment, his shaking paw still holding the little envelope. After a minute or two, he finally got back up, put the papers in his pocket, and walked to his office. The entire damned department was empty, down to the last cubicle, and he could see that the fire alarm lights were strobing in the corners. Strangely, there was no audible alarm along with it.

Once locked in his office, he opened the envelope and read the short correspondence:

---------------
To Officer Leonard P. Quinley,


The suspect we have just relieved from the custody of your department is a high-value terrorist threat that had been living under an assumed name. None of the charges against him were valid, and any confession he might have made to you is an elaborate lie. The suspect has never had sexual contact with any minors. It is of paramount importance that the truth remain obfuscated, in order to ensure national security. All information about him in physical or digital form has already been destroyed.

In a short time, the news will report that he has been killed in a traffic accident while being transported to prison to await trial. It is in your best interest to accept this as fact. The cub who was taken into protective custody will be rehoused in an undisclosed location, and all information about him has also been destroyed. You are ordered to forget everything about him, and never repeat the name "Xael". He doesn't exist.

We thank you for your cooperation. Your reward has already been negotiated.


Senior Agent Gary Sumpter, Operations Division, APA (Agency for Paranormal Affairs)
---------------


Some time afterward, Officer Quinley was summarily promoted a few ranks. After all that he went through and all the time he'd been waiting, the badger had no trouble seeing that he really deserved it. He went on to have a distinguished career as an excellent interrogator and criminal psychologist.

Mark Chicopay was cleared of all charges by the APA and sister agencies, seeing how the boy he'd had sex with wasn't really a minor, being chronologically QUITE old and also in possession of adult-level mental faculties. He was given a new name and a new identity; he had undetectable plastic surgery to alter the shape of his muzzle and ears, and change his eye color; and he was relocated in another big city somewhere across the country. He was gently encouraged to forget about his relationship with the mysterious cub-like boy, and now lives a quiet and unremarkable life with a fox that may be his boyfriend.

The coonfox named Xael was released back into the world, officially named "Jacob" at a new orphanage. He is attending a school called Palm Hills Elementary, and once again is largely left to his own devices. The difference is, now the APA will be keeping a much closer eye on his activities.