The Sound of Police

Name: Ingrid Collumbo

• Age: 39
• Species: German Shepherd with a very minor (≈1 %) jackal ancestry. Visually she reads as pure German Shepherd.
• Occupation: Uniformed police officer, Oakhaven PD. Mid-career, not desk-bound, not high command.
• Residence: Oakhaven.

Appearance:

Hyper-pear silhouette that is common enough in this world that no one treats it as remarkable.

• Upper body: lean and functional. Arms, shoulders, and neck are slender but solid. Chest is almost completely flat — two small, barely noticeable mounds under the uniform shirt.
• Midsection: soft lower belly with a modest pad of fat that sits above the massive hips.
• Lower body: the real spectacle. Hips wider than most doorways, thighs each roughly the girth of a normal torso, and an enormous, heavy, perfectly round ass that jiggles with every step and barely fits in standard chairs or squad-car seats. The muscle underneath is strong and dense (she can kick a door or restrain someone without trouble), but a thin, soft layer of fat over it gives everything a juicy, plush look.
• Fur: dark brown and black, well-groomed but never fussy. Texture is neither silky nor coarse — just normal, healthy German Shepherd coat. Muzzle is noticeably darker.
• Tail: thick and usually tucked between the cheeks when she’s standing or sitting.
• Face: short, light-brown hair kept practical. Hazel eyes that almost never show panic. Ears permanently perked. Default expression is deadpan / stoic. When the mask cracks it becomes very readable — annoyance, amusement, or hunger all show clearly.
• Voice: low, dark, and thickly South African-accented. Speaks bluntly and with slightly broken English syntax when emotional or off-duty.

She has zero body-image issues. In this world her proportions are just another variation; she treats them the same way anyone else treats having large feet or a deep voice.

Attire:

On duty (uniform) Standard Oakhaven PD dark-blue uniform, but heavily modified for her proportions. The shirt is regulation cut and sits cleanly on her flat chest and lean upper body. The trousers are custom-ordered: reinforced seams, extra panels at the hips and seat, and a high, wide waistband that still digs in slightly under her soft lower belly. Even with the alterations the fabric is constantly under tension across her thighs and ass; when she walks the material creaks and the outline of her cheeks is unmistakable. Utility belt sits lower than regulation because of the flare of her hips. Badge, radio, cuffs, and sidearm are all standard. She keeps the uniform neat but never obsessively pressed — practical and a little lived-in.

Off duty / daily She dresses for comfort and zero effort. Oversized dark hoodies or plain black t-shirts that hang loose over her upper body, paired with stretch jeans or cargo pants that are always a size too small in the seat and thighs. The denim or fabric strains and rides up when she sits. She rarely bothers with anything tighter or more fashionable. Heavy work boots or simple sneakers. No jewellery except her watch. On days off she often just wears the bottom half of an old uniform pair of trousers with a faded band shirt. She does not care how it looks; she cares that she can move and that nothing rips when she sits down hard.

Personality:

Not a good cop, not a bad one — just a realistic one with rough edges.

• On duty: legendary stoicism. Building collapses in front of her → she brushes dust off her shoulders and keeps working. Takes “serve and protect” seriously enough that she will actually help people, but she also takes the occasional small bribe, bends procedure when it benefits her, and uses her badge when it’s convenient. Never sadistic or fully corrupt.
• Off duty: savage, sassy, sarcastic, and blunt to the point of rudeness. If she likes someone she says so to their face; if she doesn’t, she also says so. No passive-aggression.
• Attitude toward women: casually sexist toward most other females for no deep reason she can articulate. Prefers the company of men — specifically softer, less muscular, more pliable men she can dominate and smother. She is not abusive or cruel in relationships; she simply takes the lead and expects to keep it.
• Pride: high, bordering on arrogance, but still grounded enough that she doesn’t tip into pure ego.
• Argument style: zero filter, zero regrets. She will dismantle someone verbally and walk away without a second thought.
• The 1 % jackal blood gives her informal standing and access within jackal/hyena social circles (“hard J and H” community). She uses it when useful and otherwise ignores it.

Hobbies

• Horror movies, especially the gritty, low-budget, practical-effects kind. She watches them late at night with the lights off, deadpan expression, occasionally muttering criticism at the screen about “stupid decisions” or “that is not how you hold a weapon.”
• Strength training focused on lower-body power and grip. She trains in a small private gym a few times a week — heavy squats, sled pushes, farmer’s carries — not for looks, but so the muscle under the soft layer stays functional.
• Collecting and restoring old police gear and radios. She has a small shelf of outdated handcuffs, batons, and cracked radios that she quietly repairs.
• Drinking strong black coffee and smoking the occasional cigarette on the fire escape while watching the street. She does both in silence and treats them like small rituals.

Intimacy Power-bottom dominant. She takes full control of the pace, position, and intensity, but she prefers to be the one receiving while still running the entire encounter. She pins, directs, and smothers rather than being on top in the traditional sense. Soft, pliable men who let her lead and who can handle being covered and held down by her mass are her type. She is completely straight and has zero interest in women.

Kinks & Physical Expressions

• Dummy mommy: warm, heavy, smothering affection mixed with clear dominance. She likes wrapping her partner up between her thighs or under her belly and keeping them there while she talks in that low, accented voice.
• Leash and control: she enjoys putting a collar and short leash on a partner and keeping them close, whether they are walking beside her, sitting at her feet, or being pulled into her lap. The leash is less about humiliation and more about ownership and constant contact.
• Size and weight play that stays within the world’s normal biological range: using her massive thighs and ass to pin, sit on, or slowly settle over someone. She does it casually and without ceremony.
• Light verbal domination — blunt orders, dry praise, and the occasional savage one-liner delivered in the same deadpan tone she uses on the job. She never pushes into anything that feels cruel or non-consensual; control is the point, not pain for its own sake.

Quirks:

• She rates people in her head by how easily she could physically restrain them. It is automatic and she sometimes mutters the rating under her breath (“Two out of ten. Soft.”).
• When she sits, she always does it the same way: one heavy thigh first, then the other, with a small, deliberate shift of weight that makes the chair creak. She never apologises for it.
• Her tail is almost always tucked firmly between her cheeks while she is standing or walking. Only when she is alone or completely relaxed does it come free and rest across one thigh.
• She has a habit of polishing her badge with the side of her thumb while she is thinking or waiting. The motion is small and constant.
• She never raises her voice. Even when she is being extremely sarcastic or giving a direct order, the volume stays low and even. The contrast between the calm tone and the content is what makes the words land harder.
• She keeps a small roll of industrial-strength tape in her glove box “for emergencies.” Half the time the emergency is her own trousers starting to split at the seam.

Background: Ingrid Collumbo was born and raised in a mid-sized coastal city in South Africa (the anthro equivalent of the real place, with the same climate, languages, and everyday texture). Her family was working-class German Shepherd stock with that faint jackal thread on her mother’s side. Her father worked as a dock supervisor; her mother kept books for a small transport company. Neither parent was particularly soft. Household rules were short, expectations were high, and emotional displays were treated as optional at best.

She grew up speaking English at school and a mix of English and Afrikaans at home. The thick accent she still carries is the real product of that upbringing — not put on, not exaggerated for effect. Even after years in Oakhaven it has only softened at the edges. When she is tired, annoyed, or speaking quickly, more Afrikaans cadence and the occasional word slip through (“ja,” “lekker,” “ag no,” “just now”). She does not code-switch for anyone’s comfort.

The family was never wealthy and never starving. Ingrid learned early that competence mattered more than charm. She played school sports hard (mainly field hockey and later rugby with mixed teams), kept her grades high enough to stay out of trouble, and developed the same deadpan exterior she still wears. By her late teens she had already decided she wanted a job with clear authority and a pension. Police work fit. She joined a local metro service at twenty-one, did six solid years, and then applied for a transfer overseas when a cousin already living in Oakhaven mentioned the department was hiring experienced officers.

She arrived in Oakhaven at twenty-seven with a single suitcase, a working knowledge of American-style procedure, and zero interest in nostalgia. She does not keep South African flags, does not seek out expatriate clubs, and rarely talks about “back home” unless asked directly. When she does, the stories are practical rather than sentimental: the heat, the traffic, the way people argued in two languages at once, the taste of proper boerewors or strong rooibos. She still makes both when she bothers to cook for herself.

The jackal ancestry never defined her socially in South Africa the way it sometimes does in Oakhaven’s more fragmented community networks. There it was simply a minor family detail. Here it occasionally opens doors in certain circles; she uses those doors when useful and otherwise ignores them.

Her politics, sense of humour, and attitude toward authority were all shaped by that background. She respects competence and results. She has little patience for performative softness or endless discussion. She still measures distance and time the way she learned as a child (“just now” can mean anything from five minutes to an hour). She still prefers her coffee boiled hard and her meat well-seasoned. And when she is truly relaxed — which is rare — a few more Afrikaans phrases surface without her noticing.

She has not been back to South Africa in over a decade. She sends a short message to her mother on birthdays and leaves it at that. The country is part of her foundation, not a place she feels she needs to revisit. Oakhaven is where the job is, where the paycheque clears, and where the chairs are still too narrow for her rear. That is enough.