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DISCLAIMER: Many of the characters in here are property of Disney, Warner
Bros. and other animation-type studios. The Roger Rabbit franchise
specifically belongs to Touchstone Pictures while the characters were
created by Gary K. Wolf. I'm just using the characters in an incredibly
perverted way and don't intend to do any of that copyright infringement
stuff. I'm just a poor, filthy-minded bastard who really can't afford to
be sued!

FEATURING: Mulan, Betty Boop, Ariel

RATING/PAIRING: NC 17, MF, m(?)*F, MMMMMF, MMF

*You'll understand when you get to that scene

FEEDBACK: Appreciated. In fact, if anyone has any suggestions for future
stories then I'd be more than happy to consider them - it saves me thinking
about what I want to do to these characters...
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Who Framed Roger Rabbit:
Intern in Toon Town Part 4: Who Framed The Little Mermaid?
by ValleyBoy69 ([email protected])

As I waited outside Maroon's office the day after the protest, I found myself
engrossed by a newspaper someone had left on the bus that regularly brought
me to work at the studio. Normally I whiled away the minutes before getting
screamed at by flicking through the Toon gossip magazines - purely for
research purposes of course. Today, however, was a different.

"The body found at the scene of the so-called "Million Toon March" at DMW
Studios yesterday has been identified as that of prominent Toon celebrity
Eric Charming," the newspaper read. It went on to list his roles, making
sure to note that he only ever had one real success, before hinting at his
rumoured infidelities and general drunkenness that the studio had tried,
unsuccessfully it seemed, to keep under wraps. It went on to give a brief
biography of Eric, noting that he had been illustrated in 1987, was married
to his regular co-star Ariel and had one daughter drawn specifically for
the movie sequels who wanted nothing to do with her "parents."

The part that I couldn't take my mind off, however, was his name. To
everyone, he was "Prince Eric" and there was never any mention of his last
name, or even if he had one. You only need to look at Toons like Goofy to
see that it's not a necessity. And now we find out he was related some way
to Prince Charming? Who he had been convinced was murdered by his two
estranged wives Aurora and Cinderella back in 1962. In fact, if Eric hadn't
been drawn until '87 how could they be related? Was it just some kind of
sick joke on the part of whoever his artist was? My ponderings were brought
to an abrupt close when Maroon's Toon secretary told me to go in.

Inside the office there was an even stronger stench of booze and cigar smoke
than ever before. Maroon looked utterly bedraggled. He clearly hadn't shaved
since the day before and was still wearing the same clothes. "What the hell,
Tim?" he screamed at me, clearly back to referring to me by my first name.
He wanted a favour. "I knew the march was a terrible idea! I tried to stop
it! I even tried to get you to stop it, what little good that did."

I didn't counter that my so-called attempt to stop the protest - a
demonstration that I had initially sympathised with - was a ridiculous
attempt to seduce its organisers Poison Ivy and Batgirl at his behest.
Instead, I offered: "How did they find out who it was so quickly? You
saw what that... stuff did to his face."

Maroon nodded, looking pale. At that moment I felt a little sympathy for my
boss. "Cops got the lab rats in on it. They identified him by his TNA."

"Literal lab rats?" I asked. You can never be too sure when it comes to
Toons.

"Not quite. You know Professor Frink? From the Simpsons?" I nodded. Maroon
continued: "Turns out he's only a part time actor. Would you believe he's a
goddamned honest-to-God scientist? Apparently gets really pissed when the
writers make him talk gibberish on the show and keeps requesting they make
his lines more scientific. Doesn't seem to realise it's a comedy." Maroon
rolled the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. He continued:
"Anyway, he's the Toon scientific liaison with the LAPD. They brought him
in. Didn't take long. Eric's TNA was already on file. He'd been arrested
for public drunkenness a few years back. I had the cops keep quiet with
money from the studio and let them borrow Donald Duck for some safe sex
talk in a high school in Long Beach. School district rule mandates they
have to do it, but they figured they wouldn't get in trouble with pissy
religious parents if the kids didn't understand what the hell was being
said."

He poured himself a glass of whisky from a crystal decanter on his desk. I
noticed there was only enough left for maybe another shot or two. He looked
like he was about to knock it back but caught my eye and just took a sip
before placing the glass carefully back on his desk. It was covered in as
many of the morning's newspapers as his assistants had been able to get
their hands on.

"So I figure today's not going to be an ordinary day?" I asked cautiously.
I imagined myself at the end of a phone repeating the words "no comment" ad
nauseam - or at least from nine til five.

"Not for you it isn't," Maroon said, looking up at the door.

I turned to see a tall, thin man walk into the office. He was maybe in his
mid forties, his black hair clearly dyed to hide any grey. His pointed
nose that cast a shadow over his thin, grimacing lips gave him an almost
Toon-like quality. He reached inside his stylish leather jacket and pulled
out a wallet. It flipped open to reveal a card. "Mitch Mitchelson," it read
next a photo of the man himself. It quickly realised it was a private
investigator's licence.

"The board of directors are paying for Mr. Mitchelson to investigate the
killing," Maroon started.

"Shouldn't the police be doing that?" I asked, not exactly sure of how the
whole process worked.

"Seems they want an extra set of feet on the ground," the shady-looking
detective began. "Don't trust the cops to act in the studio's best
interests."

"Oh really?" I began. I looked back at my boss. "So what's this got to do
with me?"

"I want you to go with Mr. Mitchelson when he starts asking questions,"
Maroon replied. I noticed him eyeing his whisky glass, wanting to throw it
back but not in front of me and a man who could very easily go right back to
the studio's board of directors and tell them exactly how badly he seemed to
be handling the pressure. "You know Toons a helluva lot better than he does -
no offence - and I guess you could help make his job a lot easier. Get him in
places that would normally require a lot more legwork."

"And save the studio a pretty penny in hourly charges," Mitchelson sniffed.
Of course, an hour or two less wouldn't make much difference. The studio
would clearly be paying him a little more than small change for this. He
grinned at me, his thin lips not parting. "So I guess we're partners."

Damn it.

* * *

The first port of call was to who Mitchelson referred to as "the weeping
widow." I detected more than a little sarcasm in his voice. Surely he didn't
want to pin this on Ariel? She couldn't be behind this, could she? Not that
she didn't have a motive, but surely she didn't have it in her to actually
kill?

The drive into Toon Town was not quite as pleasant as usual this time. The
tension in the air was palpable. I noticed several Toons walking around with
rain clouds over their heads and, at one point, an owl street vender selling
said clouds to anyone who wanted them. Mitchelson shook his head derisively
at everything he saw. At one point, Tweety Pie flew up to the car with a
small squadron of Toon bluebirds in his wake to offer a welcome.

"I tawt I taw a... Holy cwap!" One look at Mitchelson's vicious features and
he darted off into the air as far away as possible. Most of the bluebirds
made it too, only one straggler missing the sharp turn and going head first
into the car's wing mirror. It rebounded off and hit the road. Michelson
didn't even blink. I looked back to see the bird rubbing its head with its
wing while even tinier birds flew around its head.

We drove up the driveway to the luxurious mansion Eric had lived in with
Ariel until his untimely demise. The mansion, I recalled with quite some
guilt, where I had exchanged oral pleasantries with his wife while he lay
passed out nearby only days before.

Oh god, I suddenly realised, my heart dropping to my stomach. If anyone found
out about that I'd almost certainly be a suspect.

But I couldn't think of that. The car parked, Mitchelson stormed up to the
door, not even shooting any angry look direction or ordering me to hurry up.
He just knew I would. Fear does strange things to a person. Did he have any
suspicions about me? I gulped, perhaps a little too audibly. Mitchelson
didn't seem to notice.

Instead, he just hammered on the door. No one came but we could clearly hear
people inside. Another minute and several increasingly loud knockings later
the door opened to reveal Belle. She stared over Mitchelson's shoulder in
stunned silence for perhaps a little too long for his liking. "I'm Mitch
Mitcelson. The studio sent me to ask a few questions," he said, pushing her
aside and walking in.

Belle's eyes left mine as fury filled her features. Her face went bright red
as only a Toon's can. "Do you have ANY idea who I am?" she asked.

"Unless you've got a murder to confess to, I don't give a shit," Mitchelson
retorted. "Now where's Mrs. Charming?"

"It's just Ariel," a voice said from inside the living room that I recalled
from my encounter with the Toon princess. And there she emerged, looking as
radiant as ever. Just like Belle, she faltered on seeing me there with the
detective. "And I've already spoken to the police. Toon and human."

"Then the questions'll be easy enough to answer," Mitchelson grinned. "If
there's somewhere private we can go." He looked at me. "Not you."

"But Mr. Maroon said..." I began but Mitchelson disappeared with Ariel into
a side room.

I looked over to Belle, realising this was the first time we'd seen each
other since the Toonie awards where she had handcuffed me to a toilet, fucked
my brains out and left me there for the rest of the night until I was later
rescued by Mickey Mouse.

(You know you've been dealing with Toons for too long when that doesn't sound
out of the ordinary).

"I'm sorry," I started. "The studio hired him... Maroon sent me with him... I
know he's an asshole."

Belle nodded then moved towards the living room. I followed her and find
myself face-to-face with the whole Princess Clique, spread around the various
chairs. Jasmine sat on one chair looking more than a little uncomfortable as
she saw me. Christ. Three women I've either slept with or at least have suck
my cock in the same house at the same time. Toons or not, this was
potentially awkward.

Nearby sat Pocahontas and Mulan, the two more recent members of the group.
Maybe it was just me but I sensed a vibe in the room that was separating
them from the rest of the Clique. They were rarely with the group at film
premieres and neither had been at the same table as us at the Toonies. Were
the Princesses racist? How could they be with Jasmine as an accepted member?
Surely Toons, living as a minority for as long as they have, would be more
understanding.

On a sofa under a portrait of Ariel and Eric sat the queen bees themselves,
Aurora and Cinderella, each with a hand on the other's leg as if to make the
point that "Yes, we're gay. Yes, we're Toons. So what?" I admired that, but
ever since the now-dead Eric had told me about his drunken suspicions around
them I just couldn't help but feel they'd come to congratulate Ariel on doing
what they had done to their own bigamist husband, Philip Charming, over forty
years earlier.

I smiled uncomfortable. "Hi, I'm Tim."

They smiled back at me but said nothing. It was hard to consider just how old
they were. As Toons they barely looked twenty. Both blondes, Cinderella kept
her hair tied back with a blue ribbon lending her a more austere appearance
while Aurora let hers flow over her shoulders. They were dressed as finely as
ever despite the tragedy that had struck their friend.

"So... uh... Eric was related to your ex-husband?" I blurted out suddenly
before realising my mistake. It was too forward. Too intrusive. Too much like
what I'd imagine that asshole Mitchelson would say.

Cinderella grimaced. "They were cousins, apparently. Something that Eric did
rather enjoy reminding us of on more than a few occasions." Wow. Quite the
ice queen. Or princess. Not quite what you'd expect having seen her movies.
Of course, maybe she had been all those decades ago. Life and experience
change you, even if you're a Toon. The way they're drawn plays an important
role, denying them a little free will, perhaps, but they're still living
creatures.

I'd already thrown myself into this, I figured. I might as well continue.
"So how does that work? Someone was somebody else's brother or uncle or
something?"

"You mean like it would be if it happened with humans?" I noticed Aurora
stroking Cinderella's leg, trying to cool her down. I'd hit a raw nerve and
instead of taking a step back I just kept drilling at it like an overzealous
dentist. "No, not quite. Eric was drawn specifically to be Philip's
relative."

"And who decides that?" I asked. "Surely it'd be up to the family if one Toon
was going to be related to another?"

"You really have no idea what kind of control that studio has over us,"
Cinderella sniffed. "But no, I'm certain it was that creep Philip who was
behind it. It just reeks of him."

"But isn't he dead..?" I began before checking myself. It's scary how rumours
can develop a life of their own.

Belle and Jasmine quickly jumped to their feet. "Who wants drinks?" they said
in unison, grabbing my arm and pulling me through a door to the kitchen.

"What the hell did you say that for?" Belle said in a whisper that could have
passed for a scream from someone with a sore throat.

"I don't know!" I exclaimed. "It just came out!"

"No one mentions that," Jasmine started, closing the kitchen door behind us.

"Because it's not true? Or because it is?" I asked.

"They're our friends. We believe them," the Arabian princess continued. "It
makes sense that Charming disappeared after what happened. It was a more
innocent time and it was a huge scandal. He had to make himself scarce."

I was starting to feel like a detective. I couldn't lie; it gave me a buzz,
a whiff of confidence that I didn't have before. Before I could exploit it,
the door opened behind us as Mulan and Pocahontas rushed into the kitchen.

"We are leaving them to it," Mulan began. "It's not pleasant." Her eyes
glanced from Belle and Jasmine to me. They seemed to register recognition of
the tension that existed between us. "Is this him?" she asked suddenly. The
silence quickly gave it away. "Oh my."

She smiled, moving a little closer to me. I caught the scent of her perfume.
My heart quickened and my pants stirred. I had to get myself under control.

"This isn't the time or the place," Jasmine started.

Mulan stopped her. "I have some information," she said, her delicate hand
stroking my arm. "But I can't tell you here."

I looked back towards the door the lead to the living room where Aurora and
Cinderella were no doubt cursing my name. I prayed that Toon Fairy Godmothers
had no real magic powers. "You really should talk to the detective. I'm
not..."

"You should talk to Ariel," Jasmine interrupted, her hands on her hips. I
couldn't help but notice how sexy she got when she was angry. My mind was
racing, thinking back to that night in her apartment.

Focus. I had to focus.

Mulan looked at me carefully. "I'm not sure if it's even important," she
said, addressing everyone in the room. "But you trust him, right?" On that
point neither Jasmine nor Belle could disagree. Mulan looked around the
room. "A pen. Is there one here?" Suddenly, a tiny Toon quill popped out
of a drawer. Two beady eyes peeked from behind the large multi-coloured
feather. It was already dripping with ink. Mulan plucked it from midair and
took my hand in hers. That silky-smooth feel of a Toon's painted skin sent
a shiver down my spine. Maybe it was this new confidence that was brewing
but I just knew I was going to be fucking her before this was over.

"This is where I live. Meet me there later."

The other Princesses looked dumbfounded and perhaps a little betrayed that
their friend wasn't revealing her secrets to them. Nonetheless, it was
something. By this stage I was just as curious as anyone else to know what
was going on.

* * *

Several hours later, after I had ditched Mitchelson at the studio, I headed
back to Toon Town to the address Mulan had given me. It was made increasingly
difficult by the fact that the writing, having come from a Toon pen, kept
moving around my body. But I made it there, and that was something.

Mitchelson had been vague about what Ariel had said to him but the look on
her face suggested it hadn't gone well. I made a mental note to check how she
was later. Not that I had any right to. I had to keep reminding myself that I
was just an intern at an animation studio while she was a huge Toon movie
star.

The cab dropped me off near the tall Chinese pagoda structure that jutted
into the sky of Toon Town. There wasn't any kind of doubt who lived here.

The door opened as soon as I knocked to reveal Mulan attired informally in a
dressing gown in varying shades of red. I wasn't expecting such a reveal so
soon.

"Can I come in?" I asked cautiously. She nodded and I entered.

Inside, the walls were covered with what seemed to be marble, although
the difference between the regular kind and that in Toon Town varies
dramatically. Silk hangings with Oriental designs hang from the ceiling
at various places and curtains were all that separated the different
rooms. Several candles flickered on tables. They stood out considerably
as they were clearly not Toon. No faces, no singing, just plan, ordinary
candles. It's something you rarely see in these parts. Usually everything
in Toon Town, apart from the occasional human visitor, fits in perfectly
with its surroundings.

"You like them?" Mulan asked, breaking the silence. "Toons like to experience
the other side of things too. It's not just you." She stroked one of the
candles for a moment, not taking her eyes off me. "Human things are so course
to the touch, so tangible. They have rules." The way her hand moved up the
length of the candle made me jump to attention, just imagining it was my
cock.

"You... you said you knew something...?" I said, cautious about making the
first move.

The Chinese Toon moved away from the candle and closer to me. "I was hoping
you were going to pump me for information," she smiled.

"And I was hoping you were going to say that," I replied, wrapping my arm
around her waist and pulling her towards my waiting mouth. To think I'd been
a shocked participant with Belle and Jasmine. Her hands moved around my neck
as she began to stroke me with her fingers.

My own hands moved town her body, unwrapping her flimsy gown and letting it
drop to the floor to reveal her completely naked body beneath. She gasped
in shock as I gazed hungrily at her body, several shades darker than her
porcelain-skinned fellow Princesses. Perhaps she was a little more modest
than them too.

I began to kiss her again, my fingers parting her thighs just enough to give
myself access to her clit. She was already starting to get wet. Returning the
kiss, she guided me towards a sofa, lifting my shirt over my head and eagerly
unzipping my pants. Perhaps not so modest.

Slipping to her knees, Mulan took my cock into her animated hand and began to
pump it rhythmically as she covered the tip with her moist mouth. She swirled
her tongue around, taking more of my length between her lips. With her free
hand, she began to claw at my naked chest. I inhaled deeply. "You're good at
this..."

She moved my cock from her mouth, a line of saliva connecting the two for a
few brief moments. "You have to be in order to join the Princesses," she
informed me and got right back to work, bobbing her head up and down.

"Even Aurora and Cinderella?" I asked dubiously.

The Asian Toon didn't even bother stopping slurping on my cock. "Mmm-hmmm,"
she murmured. Well, that was a surprise. Something to store away at the back
of my mind for future reference. Right now, I was going to enjoy this.

Mulan continued to work over my whole length, only removing it from her mouth
to lick up the shaft. I knew that if she kept this up I wouldn't last much
longer. I took her head in my hands and lifted her off. "My turn," I smiled
as I guided up onto the sofa, spreading her legs apart and lowering myself
between them.

I began to kiss along her thighs, up over her soft, dark patch of hair before
moving towards her clit that my hand had abandoned minutes earlier. It poked
conspicuously out just above labia in a way a human's wouldn't. It made it an
easy target. Her whole body quivered as I touched it with my tongue. I
repeated the action again, eliciting a soft moan. Then I dove in, attacking
it hungrily with my whole mouth, my tongue darting up and down, left and
right, occasionally running it in circles. Her moans became louder. "Yes,
that's right. Do that." So I did do that. Over and over.

Suddenly, she reached down to my head and pulled me back up to her face. Her
large, expressive Toon eyes only a little narrower than most other humanoid
Toons gazed into mine. For some reason, I suddenly recalled her first movie
bombing in China because she appeared "foreign-looking" to them. I quickly
reminded myself that being a Toon geek wasn't essential at this point in
time.

I kissed her again as her hand reached down between my legs and grasped my
cock. She began to guide me to her waiting pussy, slick with her juices and
my saliva. I slid easily into her, still amazed at how much better it felt
than human pussy.

I started to fuck her slowly, taking long, deep strokes into her. She began
to bite her lower lip as I started to quicken my pace, trying to hold down
her moans. I leaned towards her ear, whispering softly. "You're all alone
here, right? You don't have to be quiet on my account."

"I can't help it," she said, gasping suddenly as I withdrew myself and
thrust back into her. I could feel her wetness coating not just my cock but
my thighs and the sofa beneath us. "They drew me to be modest."

"Really?" I asked. "I hadn't noticed." I reached down and began to stroke her
smooth legs as I continued to pound into her. I guided them around my waist
then moved my hands under her body and grabbed her ass.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh..." Mulan called out, beginning to let herself go.

I started to lift her up, her legs still wrapped around me. She was
incredibly light, as humanoid Toons tend to be. Standing up now, I continued
to fuck her. Very quickly, she realised she could help out by lifting her ass
up and down, allowing me to get deeper into her waiting pussy.

I pushed her against the wall and began ramming into her. Mulan's arms moved
from around my neck and grasped onto one of the hanging silk curtains. "Ungh!
Yes! Just like that!" she groaned. My pounded became more frenzied the wilder
she got. She ripped the curtain from the wall with no regard for how much it
may have been worth. She wrapped around both our bodies as I continued to
slide in and out of her. "Fuck my pussy," she gasped. "Deeper! Deeper! Oh
God, a human cock feels so good!"

She began to nibble on my earlobe. I started to lose my balance as we both
fell onto the floor, the silky smoothness of the hanging becoming entangled
in our sweat-covered bodies. I pushed myself up and started to make long,
slow movements into her quivering body until I couldn't take it any longer.

Mulan grabbed my waist hard as I pumped my cum deep inside her Toon body.
After a few moments of heavy breathing I pulled myself out of her. The
curtain was useless now, our fluids leaving small stains all over it.

With a smile, the Chinese Toon princess helped me to my feet and guided me
back to the sofa. She was on her knees between my legs again, licking the
mingled mess of her juices and my cum from along my cock. "I have to make
sure you're clean," she smiled up at me. I wasn't going to stop her.

* * *

As I headed to the headquarters of the Million Toon March on the Hollywood
side of the Toon Town bridge, I pondered what Mulan had told me once we had
both cleaned up. Our second attempt at cleaning up, that is, after we had
found ourselves fucking once again in the shower. She had clearly lost her
modesty by that point, as the Toon shower head that provided backing music
to any potential singing one might do started to belt out something that
wouldn't be out of place in a porno.

It turns out she had been at the march in disguise. The Princesses had
decided they didn't want to be seen anywhere near it, fearing bad publicity.

"Why?" I had asked. "Older Toons like Mickey, Donald and Porky were there.
Loads of others, too."

"It's okay for them," Mulan told her, her hands absently playing with my
chest as we both lay naked on the Oriental rug that covered her very
minimalist living room. I had only paid scant attention to it before we
fucked but there really was very little there. "They're more... I don't
know... Working class Toons. But Cinderella pointed out that we had to
appeal to young girls and they would ask too many questions about strikes
and the industry that they shouldn't have to worry about."

"You're kidding?" I asked, stopping myself from kissing her small, dark
nipples briefly. "Are they afraid it'll harm their delicate little minds?"

"I don't know," Mulan shrugged. "I suppose that must be it."

"But I always figured girls admired you and Belle and Ariel because you're
feisty and strong and..."

"...and yet we always have to settle down with a man at the end and be good
wives..."

I shrugged. I pinched her nipple and made her gasp. She frowned at me
playfully. "Anyway, you were saying. You were told not to go to the march
but you did anyway?"

Mulan nodded. "An easy disguise; Just a cloak covering my head. It's amazing
how easily that works for Toons!" She looked as though she was pondering a
series of events. "Now, I don't know anything other than that I saw Eric
there. He was in disguise too, though. A hat and a black mask covering his
eyes."

"Well, it always worked for Sylvester Sneekly," I noted.

"But it was definitely him," Mulan said. "I saw him and wondered what exactly
he was doing there. Then the custard pies started to get thrown and I saw him
take one in his face..." She stopped for a moment and got a little pale.
"Then he fell and..."

"You didn't tell Ariel this?" I asked. "Or the police?"

Mulan shook her head. "Cinderella said not to go to the police. Human or
Toon. Although with Officer Droopy on the case, any information we gave him
would get lost..."

"But he'll always solve the case through sheer dumb luck," I said, smiling
a little. Then it hit me what she had been hinting at. "The dip was in the
custard pie!" Mulan looked at me as though I was as painfully slow on the
uptake as Goofy. "But all of them? Or just the one that hit Eric? Most the
pies that were flung hit the security guards and they were all human... If
any other Toons were hurt we'd know, right?"

Mulan shrugged. "I don't know. I just wanted to tell you that." She looked
sadly at me. "Now I just can't get that image out of my mind..."

"I think I can help with that," I offered, moving on top of her, my cock
already erect again. She inhaled suddenly as I slid inside her and we began
to fuck again.

Once we were done I headed out to see what else I could discover about the
mystery custard pies from the protest. My first port of call - Batgirl and
Ivy.

* * *

The office was almost empty when I arrived. I wasn't accosted by Ninja
Turtles or an irate Porky Pig this time. A lot of the posters and paperwork
had been removed, although I could still hear the vague click-clack of
typewriters at work. I wandered up into the office where I had my threesome
with the out of work Batgirl and Poison Ivy the day before the march. The
typewriters were going wild on their own, spewing out words at a rate of
knots. Once a sheet was finished, an arm would pop out of the side of the
typewriter, pull it out, put it onto a pile, insert another and start all
over again.

"Hello?" I called out. "Is anyone here?" No reply. Not even from the
typewriters. It reminded me of how unfair it is for some Toons, finding
themselves unable to talk and merely serve one purpose, while others, no
matter what form they may be in, animal, vegetable, mineral, are able to
lead normal, healthy lives. Just look at poor Pluto. He's a dog, just
like Goofy, yet one gets to talk, wear clothes and live in a house while
the other is confined to a subservient position, almost like a non-Toon
canine. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so surprised at the possibility of
racism within the Princess Clique.

I wandered towards the sheets of paper the typewriter was churning out. It
was advice to the various organising members of the protests about how to
conduct themselves in the aftermath of the murder. Nothing about where their
leaders would be, though.

I stuffed one of the letters in my back pocket anyway and glanced across
the walls to find any kind of list of the members of the Million Toon March
committee and where to find them. Most of it had been taken down but one
notice, partly ripped off revealed perhaps a little more than it should.

"...nk & Pai..." it read.

* * *

The Ink & Paint Club had an interesting and long-lasting reputation amongst
the residents of Toon Town. It started as a haven for human drinkers during
the Prohibition era. There was some confusion concerning whether or not Toon
Town counted as a part of the United States, or even if Toon beverages
counted under the Eighteenth Amendment. As such, those who could afford its
ridiculously high entrance fees, were able to come in, get drunk and party
while surrounded by attractive Toon waitresses.

The very same waitresses - often newly illustrated Toon girls who were
designed to feature in the background of a cartoon or in a commercial and
then left to their own devices - led to the club developing a reputation as
a brothel.

This was back when Toon Town still had some semblance of innocence so,
naturally, there was outrage. For nearly ten years, humans were banned from
the establishment and it became a Toon Only Bar. Occasional exceptions were
made, of course, for studio execs trying to impress potential financiers.

Then came the war. In the aftermath, Toons realised that laughter was the
best medicine for any kind of trauma and allowed humans to come back in
provided they behaved themselves. That was the beginning of the Golden Age
of both Toon Town and the Ink & Paint Club. It was a time when Daffy and
Donald - back then working for different studios - would play duets in what
was meant to be an act of solidarity; a time when out of work Toons could
come in and get gainful employment without the chance of exploitation, often
renewing their acting careers when important humans paid a visit; a time
when Jessica Rabbit graced the stage inspiring declarations of love and
erections a-plenty.

Following the events of '47, however, things started to go downhill. The club
lost its star attraction when Jessica left to become an ambassador for Toon
Town. Soon after the owners tried desperately and fruitlessly to find any
kind of replacement for her. Many of the big studio stars moved on too as
cinema and television became the big earners, not live entertainment.

It wasn't until the '70s that things really went downhill. The Ink & Paint
had a brief resurgence in the late '60s as a haven for the West Coast's
hippie crowd but as that decade drew to a close, Toon Town had already become
a sprawling metropolis and crime, both human and Toon, began to infest it.
For a brief period it was the base of operations for the Lollipop Lane Mafia,
a group of preteen Toon girls who ruled part of Toon Town with an iron fist.
Once they were put behind bar, things didn't improve much.

As I walked past the large gorilla bouncer, who I'd been told had been there
ever since the club opened in the '20s, the change was not only visible, but
audible too. No whacky music, no one-man octopus string quartet, just the
loud thumping of bad dance tracks.

Inside there seemed to be an attempt to mix the style from the glory days
with something more modern. Exasperated Toon penguins ran around serving
drinks to the few people sat at the back of the club, in shady alcoves.
Instead of bow ties, however, they were adorned in tacky gold chains and
other kinds of so-called bling. Maybe I'm old-fashioned despite my age, but
it just didn't seem right.

Lines of people crowded together at a bar where an octopus and a centipede
tried to no avail to keep up with the orders they were receiving. Between
the bar and the stage was a large dance floor where humans and Toons alike
gyrated against each other in time with the music. The air was filled with
the odour of sweat, both human and Toon, and booze.

I had no idea what I expected to find here but this was hardly the kind of
place wannabe Toon revolutionaries would come, so just the mention of it at
the Million Toon March offices made it stand out. I gazed around trying to
see a familiar face. Nothing. All the Toons on the dance floor seemed to be
below Z-List stars or the generic Toons you'd pass on the street.

A change in music suddenly stopped the dancing. Everyone's attention turned
to the stage where, for the first time, I noticed a pole jutting out of it.
Before I had any time to take it all in, the curtains parted and a spotlight
from above pointed down at the stage.

A leg moved out slowly, teasingly. The rest of the body soon followed. I was
gob-smacked. Slowly, seductively, out sashayed Betty Boop wearing a low-cut
variation on her famous red dress. It stood out against her white, unpainted
skin. She began to move in rhythm to the music. The crowd shifted a little.
Like me, they were unsure what to think. I glanced back over my shoulder to
the men in the alcove. They were leaning forward, interested in this
spectacle.

Betty began to dance around the pole, wrapping her legs around it. She lifted
herself up until she was at a ninety degree angle to it, her hands moving
behind her back ripped her dress off, hurling it into the crowd. The shouts
of approval got louder.

Sliding back down in just a red bikini and thong, Betty moved to the edge of
the stage and sat herself down. She said something to a human guy at the
front of the crowd but the music drowned it out. He moved forward, guided by
her hand, to her back. Everyone cheered as he unclasped her bra and waved it
around victoriously.

Betty's boobs were round and pert and had clearly had some work done to them.
Her nipples were as grey as you'd expect from a black and white Toon, but
perky. She motioned to a woman in the mass of people, another human. Her legs
shot out invitingly as she reached for the girl's hair. Betty pulled the
young blonde's face towards her crotch. A few seconds later the girl moved
back, Betty's thong between her teeth. Another cheer.

Entirely naked, except for the high heels on her feet, Betty Boop slid down
to the dancefloor. A head shorter than all the humans and most of the Toons,
she disappeared briefly until she got closer to me. She was stroking and
fondling everyone she passed. A gasped a little as she cupped my crotch
before heading towards the men at the back of the club.

The music changed back to the dance beats and everyone went back to their
gyrating as though the show they had just witnessed hadn't happened. Despite
finding myself completely turned on by the whole situation, I couldn't shake
off the guilty and disgust. What had happened to Betty Boop, a famous Toon
who was receiving something of a resurgence in recent years, with her image
plastered onto posters, t-shirts and purses all over the world? Why was she
doing this?

Determined to find out I edged to the back of the crowd, towards the alcove.
Betty was in the middle of five human business men in clearly expensive
suits. She was taking turns, sitting on their laps, whispering seductive
nothings in their ears, letting them fondle her breasts, only slapping their
hands away when they let their hands wander elsewhere. The noise continued
to prevent me from getting any kind of idea of what they were saying.

Suddenly, one of them got to his feet. He was in his late forties but clearly
well preserved thanks, no doubt, to a regime of botox and the occasional face
job. He opened a door at the back of the alcove, one that was initially
rendered invisible by the darkness there. He motioned for Betty to go through
first, groping her ass as she did. She turned to him, annoyed at first but
suddenly more subservient. The man walked through the door, quickly followed
by his cronies.

Determined to investigate further, I ventured in their direction before the
door closed. A clicked shut just before I got there. I tried the handle.
Locked. I cursed at myself for not getting there soon enough. There was no
way of knowing if this was even related to my investigation but my curiosity
got the better of me.

Sensing a potential in, I headed back to the entrance were the gorilla
bouncer was letting a few more people into the club.

"Hey there," I said, smiling nervously as I gazed up at the massive Toon.
"Interesting show in there, huh?"

"Whatchoo gettin' at, boy?" he growled.

I gulped. "Just... you know... interesting. Didn't expect to see... the
performer doing something like that."

"Y'mean Betty?" he asked. Something in his eyes suggested he was about to
blow up at me. I took a step back.

"Yeah," I replied. "I know she used to work there back in the '40s and '50s
but... not doing... that." I wanted to close my eyes, sure his fist was going
to connect with my face any second.

Instead the Toon gorilla in the tux sighed a heavy, mournful sigh. "'S a
disgrace. Dat's what it is. Lovely girl like dat. Useta wait tables after
they stopped using her in the pictures." He scratched his face. Or was he
wiping a tear away. "What's it to you anyway?"

A lie was the first thing that came to mind. "I'm a private detective. The
studio hired me to follow those guys."

"The studio, huh?" the gorilla asked, not sure whether to believe me. "And
why'd dey do dat?"

"All they told me was it had something to do with a takeover bid. They want
me to follow them, take a few photos." I pulled out my camera phone in an
attempt to appease him.

The gorilla looked around, as if he was convinced someone was spying on him.
"Look, I don' like wha' they's doin' to Betty in there but my job ain't worth
getting in trouble. Been here over eighty years and I've done looked the
other way on a lotta things in dat time..."

I had an in. But I needed to play it carefully. At least he hadn't asked
to see any ID or PI licence. "But this time things are different...?" I
ventured.

"It's wrong, dat's what it is."

"Well, if you help me out here, and get me somewhere I can take some photos
I'll make sure it doesn't get back that you helped me out."

"And you try ta keep Betty out of it too. I don' want her getting hurt cuz
o' dis."

"It won't leave the small group of execs who see them. I'll even blur out her
face before they see them. I promise. This may just be money to some private
eyes but I like Toon Town..."

The gorilla nodded and guided me around the club to a dirt-encrusted doorway.
He pulled a set of keys from inside his tux (for a moment there I was sure
he was going for a gun to do me away once and for all) and put one into
the lock. It swung open quietly. He nodded towards the dark hallway inside.
"Dat's where dey taken her. Never bin der myself. I'm just security is all."

"Thank you..."

"...Gerald."

"Thanks, G." I smiled. "You're helping a man get his pay check and bringing
down some nasty sons of bitches in expensive suits. It's a good day."

* * *

A few steps into the darkness and the door closed behind me. I breathed a
massive sigh of relief. I couldn't believe my lie had worked. Maybe after
the morning with Mitchelson I'd actually picked up a few things about being
a detective. Either that or Gerald the Gorilla had set me up and I was about
to get the crap beaten out of me.

At the end of a corridor there was a dull light coming from under what seemed
to be a large, thick curtain. Sounds were coming from behind it. I crept
along the passageway slowly, cringing at every sound my feet made on the
floor. Nothing stirred ahead of me. As I reached the curtain I noticed
movement behind it. Slowly pulling it aside, just enough to peek through I
was given the shock of my life. And, given recent weeks, my life had been
shocks a-plenty, this was no understatement.

The five men were sat in a circle around another small stage. They had their
dicks in their hands watching as Betty Boop crouched on all fours, gasping as
she was fucked from behind by none other than Baby Herman! God, there was a
sight for sore eyes. The last cartoon he'd made was in 1951, at which point
he disappeared into obscurity, apart from the occasional sexual harassment
suit aimed at him. But here he was, a middle aged Toon trapped in the body of
an infant, fucking another cartoon legend as hard as he could. His tiny wisp
of blond hair wiggled as he chomped on a cigar.

One of the men called out, "Go on Herman! Shove it up her ass!"

Betty grimaced at that but Baby Herman obeyed. He pulled the cigar from out
of his mouth, twirled it between his fingers then slowly slid it up her
asshole. Betty gasped, then coughed. A circle of smoke emerged from her
mouth. The suit who suggested it got high fives from all his buddies. I was
seething... yet strangely turned on.

"Finish her off," Botox Guy said calmly. The other men seemed to be deferring
to him.

Herman pulled out the cigar and tossed it aside. He continued ramming his
cock into Betty until, suddenly, he pulled out and pointed it at her face.
It was huge! It quivered as stream after stream of cum gushed over Betty,
coating her lips, nose, chin and breasts.

The tiny Toon stepped back and gasped. He reached into the diaper piled up
next to the stage and pulled out another cigar.

"Come here," Botox grinned at Betty. She climbed off the stage and started
licking his cock, taking it all the way in, then sucking on the tip.

Just what the hell was going on here? I started to play into the lie I'd
given Gerald and pulled out my phone. I turned it to record and began filming
the action, making sure I got the faces of all the men.

The remaining four men got out of their seats and crowded around Betty,
thrusting their cocks at her. She began to jerk off two of them which she
continued to suck off Botox. Every few seconds she switched the two she was
giving hand jobs to until one of them began to cum, squirting a torrent of
semen over Betty's already glistening face. The others soon followed suit
and were giving the strangely sexy Toon the bukkake of her life.

Only when they had finished did Botox let himself go, pulling Betty's mouth
off his cock and letting forth a gushing of cum that splashed against her
forehead and got tangled in her hair. He sat back, and laughed. "That, guys,
is how you do it," he smirked.

"Damn right, Erickson," one of the other men nodded.

Botox - Erickson, it seemed - looked at the two Toons. "The cash'll be in
your accounts before your cabs even arrive."

"I don't goddamn like it," Baby Herman growled, the gruff voice coming from
a baby's mouth unnerving even when you know about it. Whoever it was that
drew him had a wicked sense of humour.

"Oh, be grateful," Erickson snarled. "Who was it who paid for you to have
that..." He pointed at Herman's enlarged cock. "...instead of that tiny thing
you used to have?"

"Yeah, well..." He pulled up his diaper and tried to put the safety pin in,
failing miserably.

"Let me help ya, Hermie," Betty said. She had a robe on now and had cleaned
her face off with a towel. There was still a streak of cum in her hair. She
clipped the pin on and glared at the businessmen. "Oooh, you should be
ashamed of yourselves." She looked into the distance, wistfully. "I remember
when all men wanted from me was just a wiggle of the hips and a
'Boop-Boop-Be-Doop'."

"You're living in a different time now, babe," another one of them men
grinned.

They started to walk away from the small room towards...

...the curtain that I was standing behind. I looked to my right. The door
back into the club was right there. Now I wasn't focusing on the scene in
front of me I could hear the thumping music coming from behind it. Crap.

There was no way I could get back the way I came in before they got to me.
I grasped for the door back into the club, wrenching it open to hurl myself
back into the crowd before they caught me. If I got a few hundred people
between me and then there would be a chance I could...

Right in front of me, sitting in the alcove as though they were waiting for
someone, were Batgirl and Poison Ivy! They were just as shocked to see me as
I was to see them!

"You!" Batgirl gasped.

"Yeah... you!" a voice behind me growled as a hand grabbed my shoulder hard.
I turned to see the face of one of Erickson's men, followed by his fist.

* * *

When I came to my senses I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it was
still dark. I glanced at my watch. Ten after midnight. My head was pounding
and it felt like I'd been punched and kicked in a few other places after I'd
been knocked out.

I wasn't anywhere near the club, but I was still in Toon Town. The
bespectacled Moon just above me seemed to be frowning disapprovingly at me.
"Hey!" I called out. "I just had the crap kicked out of me! Don't you go
looking at me like that!"

It didn't do any good. I crawled to my feet and tried to get a sense of my
surroundings. Right ahead of me was the tunnel leading from Toon Town back
to Hollywood. I assumed they'd dropped me off on the way back to wherever
they came from.

So, what good did my investigation do? Well, clearly there's some sleazy
business at the Ink & Paint Club, but everyone knew that. But famous Toons
being prostituted to businessmen? And what did Ivy and Batgirl have to do
with them? It was too much to think about. I just wanted to call a cab and
get home.

I reached into my pocket for my phone. Gone. I swore into thin air. The moon
rolled his glasses down over his nose and tutted. "Fuck you," I said under my
breath.

The phone being missing was hardly a surprise. My wallet was still there but
no doubt they looked through it to get any information they could on me. And
Ivy would've been the first to tell them I worked for the studio. Suddenly I
didn't feel like going home, or going to work the next day.

I glanced at the tunnel for a moment then began to head the other way.

* * *

Ariel looked surprised as she opened the door to see the bedraggled form in
front of me. At least, I assumed I looked bedraggled. I damn well felt it.

"Tim...?" she said.

"Hey. Can I come in?"

She moved aside and I staggered in. Once the door was closed she rushed to my
side. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I was..." I didn't want to say anything at first. How would she react to the
fact I was looking into her husband's death? Pleased? Angry? Guilty, even? I
decided to go for it. "I was down at the Ink & Paint Club following a lead
into Eric's murder. Found out some things I shouldn't have and... well... you
can see what happened."

She took me into the living room and sat me down as I explained everything
that had happened that day. I omitted the more sordid details about what
happened in the club, vaguely skimming around the events that led to my
beating. She began stroking my hair slowly as I talked.

"So you don't think I did it?"

"Of course not! Why would anyone... Mitchelson?"

She nodded. "The way he talked... Saying things about me... and Eric..." She
looked up to me, pleading. "What I did with you... That was the first time
I've done anything like that, even though Eric was always throwing himself
around with human women. I wouldn't have killed him. I couldn't have. I've
been too much of a doormat for that." I reached out for her, caressing her
cheek. She continued: "I don't have it in me. I've been a mess all day,
especially after that horrid detective came here. 'Rora and Cinders helped
though. They're wonderful."

I didn't want to challenge her assumptions about her fellow Princesses, but
my opinion of them seemed to differ from hers.

After a few moments, Ariel looked into my eyes. "Do you want to stay? For the
night?"

I replied by pulling her face towards mine. We kissed passionately, my hands
running across her cheeks, through her silky hair. I started planting kisses
along her cheek, nibbling on her earlobe, making my way to her neck. She
gasped. My hand began to caress her shoulder, then her breasts. "Bedroom..."
she whispered.

No need to tell me twice. I swept her up in my arms, and headed to the bottom
of the stairs, bounding up them, almost two steps at a time. At the top I
gave her a quizzical look. She rolled her eyes. "Last room on the left." I
nodded and headed there.

The walls were decorated with varying shades of blue, green and silver. Very
nautical. A large four poster bed had shimmering aqua drapes and sheets. I
laid Arial slowly down onto it and began tugging at the straps of her dress.
It slid off easily, revealing her small, perky breasts, then her stomach,
then her pussy with the familiar fuzzy red patch I'd buried my face in only
a few days earlier.

My hand moved between her legs as we continued to kiss. Her clit poked out
between her lips and her hole was sopping wet. Ariel began to pull my shirt
over my head, and then started to unzip my pants as quickly as she could, my
cock already hard as it popped out.

"I've wanted this since that night..." she sighed as I held her in my arms,
guiding myself into her. I gasped as her pussy clenched around my length. I
began to thrust, slowly at first but picking up the pace. I'd pull out of
her bit by bit, then plunge back into her waiting pussy with all my strange.
She called out loudly each time, wrapping her legs around my waist, moving
her body to meet me every time I entered her.

"I haven't... been fucked... like this... in years..." she moaned into my
ear.

I reached around Ariel's back and, with some careful manoeuvring, had her on
my lap, her legs still clinging to my body as she moved up and down my shaft.
I buried my face in her chest, licking her breasts, sucking on her tiny pink
nipples. "Oh God yes. Just like that," she panted. "Now get behind me!"

I blinked a few times then obeyed. She pulled herself off me and leaned over
the side of the bed. Using the glistening patch of wetness between her legs,
I guided my cock back into her and began to pump as hard as I could. The
rougher I got, the more she threw caution to the wind, becoming wilder by
the minute. She really had gone a long time without a good fucking.

I reached down and grabbed her ass, the soft skin driving me wild. She bucked
against me as a squeezed tighter with every thrust. "Yes! That's it! Fuck me
like that!"

I slid my free hand under her writhing body, moving slowly between her legs
until I found the right spot. Playing with her clit and fucking her at the
same time seemed to send Ariel wild. I kept at it until I felt her pussy
quivering around my cock. She moaned louder, more incoherently as an orgasm
hit her. It was just enough to send me over the edge. I began to pump my seed
deep into her before pulling out, a small amount of human cum contrasted
against her Toon skin.

Ariel crawled up onto the bed and looked invitingly at me. I joined her as
she pulled the covers over us. I wrapped my arm around her waist as she
sighed. "Are you going to find out who did this?" she asked.

"Of course," I nodded. "And before anyone starts throwing any more
accusations at you." I kissed the back of her neck. She gasped at the
contact, my human skin so rough against hers. "I promise."

To be continued...

    

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