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Entrancius Raccoonus - hachimitsu-ink
*THERE IS A STORY BELOW THE DESCRIPTION, A SEQUEL TO THIS ONE https://www.furaffinity.net/view/53339137/ *
An impulse of mine led to this.
I did like the idea of a hypnotized, transformed and gender-changed Sly Cooper, now a genie slave with a lovely body and neat, clear-minded thoughts. Once it had been an impulse from a friend, then a sequel to it all through my own wicked thoughts, and now a third one because might as well.
The artist for this one is hachimitsu-ink , who did an excellent job merging two concepts together with the previous depictions fused in many ways (no veil, but hey them's the breaks). If you like this, do know that they take Shantae-styled comms on the semi-regular, which you can see the details here. https://www.deviantart.com/hachimit.....ary-1152914232
And if you enjoy my own tales, I do have a Subscribestar. https://subscribestar.adult/incredibleintruder
Now why is Sly the genie back? Read on and find out!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
STEALING THE PAST
Things just didn't add up.
Bentley had ever been the brain behind the operations, the one with plans and failsafes. That was his role, his job, his field of expertize and it had been doubly so ever since the accident that confined him to a wheelchair. He could remember it like yesterday, with Murray and him fighting Clockwerk and then the final strike was landed by...by...
Things really didn't add up.
He had to be smart, taking notes, linking observations and analyzes together, piecing the puzzle with his own mind and deduce what would work and what wouldn't. Like the time when Murray and him had to get Carmelita Fox out of the Contessa's clutches...yet that couldn't be as the plan involved three people and their boss, Cyrille, hadn't been with them yet. Yet he claimed that the Paradox gang had ever been and would always be. Now he didn't want to contradict the boss...but...well...
Something was clearly wrong here.
Loads of notes, recaps, recollection of past heists and jobs which required three people. Murray as the muscles, Bentley as the brains and...someone else. There was a whole third member of the group here, yet he just couldn't remember a single thing about them. Their name, species, expertize, a complete black hole of information and even emotional connection. Were they kind? A complete jerk? A professional? Somehow all of that and more? He just couldn't figure it out and that bugged him.
What he and Murray did when that occurred was go to the boss for help. His own time expertize and his natural leadership qualities, which sometimes really meant he delegated tasks, had indeed catapulted them to riches. Cyrille le Paradox, skunk of many details and knowledge, armed with a bodyguard and perhaps far more than that in the form of a genie, a veritable bedlah babe of grey fur, long hair, blue and gold bedlah and curvaceous physique. Oft did Murray and Bentley look forward to doing their reports simply to catch a glimpse of her as she lounged near the boss all the time, awaiting for commands. Yet in her did Bentley see something else, yet he couldn't quite put his finger on what just yet. Probably some wishful thinking as the boss did tease his subordinates a bit with her.
“Boss, uh, I've got to tell you about something. Mind if I come in?” the wheelchair-bound turtle went on to ask, knocking on the door within their lair that led to Cyrille's quarters. His were definitely more lush, filled with treasures that seemed to belong to many periods of time, relics and well-known pieces of art among it all. The genie was nearby, observing in silence as Bentley ever felt self-conscious when he was near, as if he wanted to gaze deeply at her, to enjoy her company and yet something else stirred within him when he saw her. A faint and impossible nostalgia which he tried to understand yet simply couldn't. “I think that...”
“Well there's your problem, my good Bentley. You're thinking!” Cyrille said, his voice self-assured, his confidence ever bordering on arrogance and yet Bentley knew to not challenge him on this. He had earned this through victories and daring heist, respect best given to the very best thief of them all. “No mistake, you think in great, broad yet also detailed notions which makes your plans excellent. That much isn't up for debate...but you ought to focus just on the plans and nothing else. The rest, well it's up to me, your boss, your superior, right?”
“I...I suppose, though, well, that whole heist on the...what did you call it again? That big vault with loads of treasure?” Bentley asked, not so much rebellious as indeed he got confused when trying to focus on other things than the boss' ambitions and goals...but he did need to know a few details. He looked at the genie again, the raccoon gal slightly furred yet extremely appealing looks, especially her midsection and upper abdomen, distracted him as if she was the piece of an unknown puzzle. She looked at him, her eyes swirling as they ever did, occasionally drawing his gaze in yet he knew best to not stare unless the boss invited him to do so.
“Ah yes, the Cooper vault. The greatest heist of them all!...what about it?” Cyrille asked, the skunk getting up and walking around Bentley, curious yet his own puffy tail swinging around as if he felt threatened. This had been the job they had been preparing for, everything else a test run for the endgame which was this vault in particular. “We got the cane, the coordinates, what else do we even need?”
The name Cooper rang a bell, something which ought to feel familiar as something clicked within his head. Names blacked out in files, yet many jobs in the past had been related to this clan...to a gang named after it. The...Cooper gang. Was their third member someone there? A traitor? A friend? The plot thickened and Bentley began to try and solve this riddle despite himself. An innate sense, an impulse of his which pushed against all that he knew. His inquisitive nature pushed against some kind of innate dogma, truths not to be contested and to be accepted as a whole. Cyrille was the boss. The Paradox gang had ever been. Yet even with time travel at play did things not quite mesh together.
“Aaaah, here you are thinking again. My mistake, my good, hard-working Bentley. I must have overwhelmed you with so many elements, so many important and crucial little details. You must be mentally exhausted, even lonely in your quarters as you scramble your thoughts on it all. Why don't I give you so much-earned recreation, hmm?” the boss went on to say, Cyrille clapping his hands twice as the genie got up, swinging her hips with each step as she stood tall before Bentley, the turtle both intimidated enough to wanna hide in his shell, yet aroused enough to be paralyzed in his decision to go with that instinct or with pure indulgence. “I permit you to gaze at her all you like. As your boss, I gotta make sure you're happy and focused...and my genie will help with that.”
Cooper...past jobs...reports and previous heists...all of this was at the forefront of his mind, yet as he looked at the genie's eyes, at the beautiful raccoon girl's luscious and enchanting body did all of this begin to vanish gradually. She did not talk, yet she didn't need to as her own motions spoke eloquently, like a poem of seduction, a lustrous serenade of pure charisma. Her hips were wide, her belly flat, her breasts just large enough, her hair long and just the right amount of skin and fur was on display to not be vulgar or too direct. All of these and her spiraling eyes really trapped his focus, claiming it all for herself as she began to sway her hips, occasionally even fluttering her stomach through quick intakes of air, then exhaling slowly with undulations. An intriguing display of skill multiplied by sheer allure as Bentley went on to concentrate on her and solely on her.
“We're gonna get rich with this one. More than anyone...truly, does anything else matter? Murray, you, me...we're a team and you know better than to doubt me...when have I ever steered you wrong? Never, right?” Cyrille went on to say, keeping a certain distance to let his genie work and yet he enjoyed the show nonetheless. Seeing Bentley being particularly affected by her, as he should, was entertaining as his voice was mellow, gentle and yet couldn't be unaffected by a certain smugness of his. “Come now, have I not given you some quality time with my most lovely assistant and slave? Look at her in the eyes and tell me I'm a terrible boss. I bet you won't be able to.”
It was hard to say this indeed, though in Bentley's defense it proved immensely difficult to vocalize absolutely anything right now. The fluffy tail of this belly dancer and magical raccoon lady brushed against his face as she shimmied her hips, lifting them up and down at a mad pace which overpowered him and his common sense. All logic, worries, doubts, hesitations, cogitating thoughts were discarded and downright flushed down the proverbial drain as nothing else mattered but the performance in front of him. Her eyes were akin to beacons, enveloping everything as the spirals contained within soon wrapped around reality and everywhere around her. Pulsations and a slight sense of blissful vertigo assailed Bentley as he felt even more limp in his chair.
“Don't you feel grateful and obedient to me now, allowing you to enjoy this? Many would keep this beauty to themselves, but I share the wealth, the goods. All I need is your undying devotion, your total loyalty, your unquestioning obedience...” Cyrille le Paradox said, his hands on Bentley's shoulders as his own eyes beneath his spectacles were swirling, coiled in the serpentine seduction of the genie and her magic powers. Hypnosis on a whole new and much better level than anything he had ever contended with, the Contessa and Miss Decibel not even close to reaching such efficiency. Seduction, utter beauty and actual magic heightened this to heights that caused euphoria and partial identity, time and values loss, perfect for suggestions and instructions. “The Cooper Clan is but a target, nobodies with incredible riches. They don't matter to me and certainly not to you, isn't that right?”
“Yes...yes...of course...” Bentley said, his head somewhat swaying, his mind blank as he accepted these edicts without a struggle. Then as her midsection went on to nearly brush against his nose did Cyrille go on and motion for the genie to move away as he lifted his fingers and then...
SNAP!
“Uh...uh...what...?” Bentley said, regaining some modicum of self-awareness and mental acuity. He was slightly dizzy, dazed yet the genie moved one finger beneath his chin, scratched it and then silently went on to lounge again, doing so right in front of him. “I...uh...what were we...”
“Oh, just worries of yours, anxiety, self-doubt...but I have the utmost faith in you, my good Bentley. You will find a way to make it so the content of that vault will be ours in no time,” Cyrille said, encouragingly, patting Bentley on the back before guiding him to the door. “Now, back at it, my good man. Focus on what matters, which means the orders of your great, beloved boss.”
“Oh...uh...right. Will do, boss,” Bentley answered as his queries died in this moment...yet they would be back again. It amused Cyrille le Paradox to create this cycle of trances, to be in control of the situation and to have Bentley work towards stealing everything from his former friend and partner...who just so happened to be his powerful and enslaved genie. It had been about a dozen times since the start of the Paradox gang that Bentley had regained some awareness, a sentiment that things weren't right. Sure, he could have Sly brainwash him and Murray utterly or even have the genie raccoon simply teleport the treasure to him straight away...yet where would be the fun in that? It would be far more mischievous and satisfying to make them work for it and let them play the puppets to his own puppeteering. He was the master in this entire situation and scenario...
And he'd go forth to enjoy this as long as he could, no matter what.
An impulse of mine led to this.
I did like the idea of a hypnotized, transformed and gender-changed Sly Cooper, now a genie slave with a lovely body and neat, clear-minded thoughts. Once it had been an impulse from a friend, then a sequel to it all through my own wicked thoughts, and now a third one because might as well.
The artist for this one is hachimitsu-ink , who did an excellent job merging two concepts together with the previous depictions fused in many ways (no veil, but hey them's the breaks). If you like this, do know that they take Shantae-styled comms on the semi-regular, which you can see the details here. https://www.deviantart.com/hachimit.....ary-1152914232
And if you enjoy my own tales, I do have a Subscribestar. https://subscribestar.adult/incredibleintruder
Now why is Sly the genie back? Read on and find out!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
STEALING THE PAST
Things just didn't add up.
Bentley had ever been the brain behind the operations, the one with plans and failsafes. That was his role, his job, his field of expertize and it had been doubly so ever since the accident that confined him to a wheelchair. He could remember it like yesterday, with Murray and him fighting Clockwerk and then the final strike was landed by...by...
Things really didn't add up.
He had to be smart, taking notes, linking observations and analyzes together, piecing the puzzle with his own mind and deduce what would work and what wouldn't. Like the time when Murray and him had to get Carmelita Fox out of the Contessa's clutches...yet that couldn't be as the plan involved three people and their boss, Cyrille, hadn't been with them yet. Yet he claimed that the Paradox gang had ever been and would always be. Now he didn't want to contradict the boss...but...well...
Something was clearly wrong here.
Loads of notes, recaps, recollection of past heists and jobs which required three people. Murray as the muscles, Bentley as the brains and...someone else. There was a whole third member of the group here, yet he just couldn't remember a single thing about them. Their name, species, expertize, a complete black hole of information and even emotional connection. Were they kind? A complete jerk? A professional? Somehow all of that and more? He just couldn't figure it out and that bugged him.
What he and Murray did when that occurred was go to the boss for help. His own time expertize and his natural leadership qualities, which sometimes really meant he delegated tasks, had indeed catapulted them to riches. Cyrille le Paradox, skunk of many details and knowledge, armed with a bodyguard and perhaps far more than that in the form of a genie, a veritable bedlah babe of grey fur, long hair, blue and gold bedlah and curvaceous physique. Oft did Murray and Bentley look forward to doing their reports simply to catch a glimpse of her as she lounged near the boss all the time, awaiting for commands. Yet in her did Bentley see something else, yet he couldn't quite put his finger on what just yet. Probably some wishful thinking as the boss did tease his subordinates a bit with her.
“Boss, uh, I've got to tell you about something. Mind if I come in?” the wheelchair-bound turtle went on to ask, knocking on the door within their lair that led to Cyrille's quarters. His were definitely more lush, filled with treasures that seemed to belong to many periods of time, relics and well-known pieces of art among it all. The genie was nearby, observing in silence as Bentley ever felt self-conscious when he was near, as if he wanted to gaze deeply at her, to enjoy her company and yet something else stirred within him when he saw her. A faint and impossible nostalgia which he tried to understand yet simply couldn't. “I think that...”
“Well there's your problem, my good Bentley. You're thinking!” Cyrille said, his voice self-assured, his confidence ever bordering on arrogance and yet Bentley knew to not challenge him on this. He had earned this through victories and daring heist, respect best given to the very best thief of them all. “No mistake, you think in great, broad yet also detailed notions which makes your plans excellent. That much isn't up for debate...but you ought to focus just on the plans and nothing else. The rest, well it's up to me, your boss, your superior, right?”
“I...I suppose, though, well, that whole heist on the...what did you call it again? That big vault with loads of treasure?” Bentley asked, not so much rebellious as indeed he got confused when trying to focus on other things than the boss' ambitions and goals...but he did need to know a few details. He looked at the genie again, the raccoon gal slightly furred yet extremely appealing looks, especially her midsection and upper abdomen, distracted him as if she was the piece of an unknown puzzle. She looked at him, her eyes swirling as they ever did, occasionally drawing his gaze in yet he knew best to not stare unless the boss invited him to do so.
“Ah yes, the Cooper vault. The greatest heist of them all!...what about it?” Cyrille asked, the skunk getting up and walking around Bentley, curious yet his own puffy tail swinging around as if he felt threatened. This had been the job they had been preparing for, everything else a test run for the endgame which was this vault in particular. “We got the cane, the coordinates, what else do we even need?”
The name Cooper rang a bell, something which ought to feel familiar as something clicked within his head. Names blacked out in files, yet many jobs in the past had been related to this clan...to a gang named after it. The...Cooper gang. Was their third member someone there? A traitor? A friend? The plot thickened and Bentley began to try and solve this riddle despite himself. An innate sense, an impulse of his which pushed against all that he knew. His inquisitive nature pushed against some kind of innate dogma, truths not to be contested and to be accepted as a whole. Cyrille was the boss. The Paradox gang had ever been. Yet even with time travel at play did things not quite mesh together.
“Aaaah, here you are thinking again. My mistake, my good, hard-working Bentley. I must have overwhelmed you with so many elements, so many important and crucial little details. You must be mentally exhausted, even lonely in your quarters as you scramble your thoughts on it all. Why don't I give you so much-earned recreation, hmm?” the boss went on to say, Cyrille clapping his hands twice as the genie got up, swinging her hips with each step as she stood tall before Bentley, the turtle both intimidated enough to wanna hide in his shell, yet aroused enough to be paralyzed in his decision to go with that instinct or with pure indulgence. “I permit you to gaze at her all you like. As your boss, I gotta make sure you're happy and focused...and my genie will help with that.”
Cooper...past jobs...reports and previous heists...all of this was at the forefront of his mind, yet as he looked at the genie's eyes, at the beautiful raccoon girl's luscious and enchanting body did all of this begin to vanish gradually. She did not talk, yet she didn't need to as her own motions spoke eloquently, like a poem of seduction, a lustrous serenade of pure charisma. Her hips were wide, her belly flat, her breasts just large enough, her hair long and just the right amount of skin and fur was on display to not be vulgar or too direct. All of these and her spiraling eyes really trapped his focus, claiming it all for herself as she began to sway her hips, occasionally even fluttering her stomach through quick intakes of air, then exhaling slowly with undulations. An intriguing display of skill multiplied by sheer allure as Bentley went on to concentrate on her and solely on her.
“We're gonna get rich with this one. More than anyone...truly, does anything else matter? Murray, you, me...we're a team and you know better than to doubt me...when have I ever steered you wrong? Never, right?” Cyrille went on to say, keeping a certain distance to let his genie work and yet he enjoyed the show nonetheless. Seeing Bentley being particularly affected by her, as he should, was entertaining as his voice was mellow, gentle and yet couldn't be unaffected by a certain smugness of his. “Come now, have I not given you some quality time with my most lovely assistant and slave? Look at her in the eyes and tell me I'm a terrible boss. I bet you won't be able to.”
It was hard to say this indeed, though in Bentley's defense it proved immensely difficult to vocalize absolutely anything right now. The fluffy tail of this belly dancer and magical raccoon lady brushed against his face as she shimmied her hips, lifting them up and down at a mad pace which overpowered him and his common sense. All logic, worries, doubts, hesitations, cogitating thoughts were discarded and downright flushed down the proverbial drain as nothing else mattered but the performance in front of him. Her eyes were akin to beacons, enveloping everything as the spirals contained within soon wrapped around reality and everywhere around her. Pulsations and a slight sense of blissful vertigo assailed Bentley as he felt even more limp in his chair.
“Don't you feel grateful and obedient to me now, allowing you to enjoy this? Many would keep this beauty to themselves, but I share the wealth, the goods. All I need is your undying devotion, your total loyalty, your unquestioning obedience...” Cyrille le Paradox said, his hands on Bentley's shoulders as his own eyes beneath his spectacles were swirling, coiled in the serpentine seduction of the genie and her magic powers. Hypnosis on a whole new and much better level than anything he had ever contended with, the Contessa and Miss Decibel not even close to reaching such efficiency. Seduction, utter beauty and actual magic heightened this to heights that caused euphoria and partial identity, time and values loss, perfect for suggestions and instructions. “The Cooper Clan is but a target, nobodies with incredible riches. They don't matter to me and certainly not to you, isn't that right?”
“Yes...yes...of course...” Bentley said, his head somewhat swaying, his mind blank as he accepted these edicts without a struggle. Then as her midsection went on to nearly brush against his nose did Cyrille go on and motion for the genie to move away as he lifted his fingers and then...
SNAP!
“Uh...uh...what...?” Bentley said, regaining some modicum of self-awareness and mental acuity. He was slightly dizzy, dazed yet the genie moved one finger beneath his chin, scratched it and then silently went on to lounge again, doing so right in front of him. “I...uh...what were we...”
“Oh, just worries of yours, anxiety, self-doubt...but I have the utmost faith in you, my good Bentley. You will find a way to make it so the content of that vault will be ours in no time,” Cyrille said, encouragingly, patting Bentley on the back before guiding him to the door. “Now, back at it, my good man. Focus on what matters, which means the orders of your great, beloved boss.”
“Oh...uh...right. Will do, boss,” Bentley answered as his queries died in this moment...yet they would be back again. It amused Cyrille le Paradox to create this cycle of trances, to be in control of the situation and to have Bentley work towards stealing everything from his former friend and partner...who just so happened to be his powerful and enslaved genie. It had been about a dozen times since the start of the Paradox gang that Bentley had regained some awareness, a sentiment that things weren't right. Sure, he could have Sly brainwash him and Murray utterly or even have the genie raccoon simply teleport the treasure to him straight away...yet where would be the fun in that? It would be far more mischievous and satisfying to make them work for it and let them play the puppets to his own puppeteering. He was the master in this entire situation and scenario...
And he'd go forth to enjoy this as long as he could, no matter what.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fanart
Species Raccoon
Size 1696 x 2173px
File Size 2.45 MB
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