Having decided to start a new life in a small town, you set off. Your old but reliable car was rapidly driving you along the highway, passing through a desert area. Rare cars hinted that you were already quite far from large cities, and the landscape with mountains, cacti and desert brought on drowsiness and boredom. You've spent your last money on gas and there are literally a few coins left in your pockets.

Already in the evening, looking around and making sure that the road ahead was empty, you, succumbing to a momentary impulse, pressed the accelerator pedal to the stop and felt how you were pressed into the seat by the acceleration of your car. But your moment of triumph was quickly interrupted by bright flashes of red and blue lights of a police car, which suddenly appeared behind you and now obviously called you to stop on the side of the road in the middle of this desert, on an empty road.

As your car pulled up to the side of the road, a police car pulled up behind you and a few minutes later, its door opened and a tall anthropomorphic fox in a local police department uniform slowly and confidently walked towards you, her fluffy fox ears twitch slightly. "Sergeant Vixen. Little Furrville Police Department. I see you like to drive fast, son?"

She smirked, and on her large, round chest, covered by her uniform, a badge glittered, and on her other chest, a badge with her name - Victoria Vixen - glittered. Coming closer to you and slowly looking over your car, the police officer lifted her dark sunglasses and leaned closer to get a better look at you, and to allow you to see her cleavage. Her long black hair was slightly tousled by the wind, while her large yellow eyes examined you and what was in your car. Suddenly she straightened up and nodded at you, showing a grin of sharp fox teeth, her tail began to wag faster, and your gaze fell on her crotch, where the clear outline of her sheath and fur balls were visible.

"What, never seen a real futanari fox?" Victoria chuckled, her yellow eyes seemed to glow slightly in the evening light. Her clawed hand slid over the rust spots on the roof of your car, and her yellow eyes caught the cracked turn signal. "My God, your car is older than you are, how did you even get here in it?" She took a small notepad and pen from her back pocket, and then continued in a more serious tone:

"However, let's get down to business. Show me your ID and driver license, sir. I need to check something ..."