After Alice left the Jenkin's place, she marched home with a virtual snarl on her face. Once she got home, she uttered a wide variety of cuss words that would make even the hardiest sailor blush. As she was doing so, she was throwing things around left and right. After a few minutes of this, she finally calmed down and stop throwing things around, although she was still breathing hard. "I need a shower," she mumbled to herself as she walked to the bathroom. She stripped off her clothes, and at the same time, gray and black fur started to cover her body. Black fur could be seen forming on her hands as her fingernails sharpened to claws. A gray and black striped tail formed just above her butt. The were-racoon stepped into the shower as she let the cold water flow down her body. Given with how she was feeling right now, the cold water helped calm her down.
But she felt no less frustrated. This Harold Jenkins guy was a hard one to catch. Normally, it'd be easy. He wasn't the first normal she seduced. First, appear friendly yet vulnerable. Get closer. Then, soon after, start romancing them. With the mandatory were law, it was made even easier. 'I'll help you with that,' she'd say as she started to work her charm on him. Then, one night, use a moment of weakness, turn on the pheromones and hormones and let nature take its course. It was really easy too. One kiss leads to heavier kissing. This'd be followed by some petting and then stripping and then the next thing would be her playing jump the bones. By this point, it'd be too late for him, and he'd be off to were-racoon city. Spend a week or two with him, and then one night, "forget" the birth control pills. She'd get pregnant, and then the trap would snap shut, putting him on the hook for child support for the next twenty years. Oh, it was a diabolical plan, and she'd milk every penny he was worth while sending the kid off to boarding school or military school or something like that.
But it wasn't working this time. She wasn't sure if it was that bitch Virginia McCoy...although her being a big cat might not be accurate. She wasn't sure if it was his daughter Melissa. Or maybe he's still mourning his dead wife. 'Gah,' she thought to herself, 'if he didn't smell like a normal, I'd swear he was a werefox or something!' She thought of just clawing him, wait for him to change, and then catching him that way. But ever since that Yvette Smith incident, she knew that she probably wouldn't get away with it, and she'd be facing at least 70 years in prison. Far too long for her to enjoy her money. Although...if she "accidently" scratches him, just one little nic with her claws, then he'd be hers and the law wouldn't get in the way. She'd just need a plan, a time, and an opportunity. A grin formed on her muzzle as she flexed the claws on her hand. "I'm going to get you, Harold Jenkins," she said quietly to herself. "And when I do, you'll be mine."
But first things first. She changed the settings on her shower head, detached it from the holder, and moved it down her body. She moaned as the pulsating water hit her lips. It was no substitute for a man, but given the circumstances, it'd do. Anything to let off the frustration that she was feeling.