As you walk to work, you hear a plantive meow above you. Looking up you catch sight of a strange almost bright red cat, a collar with what almost looks like a radio transmitter around it's neck.
As you motion and attempt to coach the animal down, it refuses to budge as images of some poor crying child asking for their cat flood your mind's eye. All part of serving the public trust you think as you clamber up the tree. As you get higher you notice that the red coloration of the animal looks to natural to be a dye job as you first suspected. With a kind enough expression as you can produce, you reach out for the feline. With a hiss, the cat rakes it's claws across your forearm before it leaps from the branch and quickly races down the street.
Quietly cursing, you slide down the tree, landing on the pavement with a thud. The claw marks on your arm sting like crazy, but you can't see any flowing blood. Chalking it up to experience, you decide to stray over to e corner store and get a quick bite to eat after all.
But by the time you reach the precinct your breakfast is like lead in your belly and you feel your head pulse, worse than your worse hang-over. You claw absent mindedly at where you got scratched, but your skin is strangely devoid of injury. Your uniform feels tight and itch, especially around the joints. As you half stagger, half stumble into the locker room, stumble for a basis, splashing water across you face and head to try and relieve some of the intense heat now assaulting you, radiating out from within.
"Hey partner, you ready for patrol?"
You bite your lip and moan, at the mere sound of their voice you feel your dick begin to harden, balls starting to churn almost hyperactively. What is god's name is happening to you? As you nod and let out a ragged yes, you turn to face your partner for two months, who is-