He savored her struggles, letting his tongue run over her breasts as he pulled them in.  In a few moments the bunnygirl was merely a struggling lump--with two promenent bulges--working its way down his throat as her kicking feet disappeared into his mouth.  Another gulp or two and she had vanished entirely.  He leaned over to a trash can, hacked, and spat a pair of black shoes, a badge, and a utility belt into the bin.<br/><br/>Brand shrank back down into his disguise and pocketed the guard's keys.  He scooped up the radio and briefly altered his larynx to approxinate the guard's voice.<br/><br/>"Exterior check code four," he said into the radio before turning it off and tossing it into the bin as well.  "Code four" was police and guardspeak for "all is well."<br/><br/>Then he set off to look for more isolated prey.  With the keys in hand, no barrier was closed to him.