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"You think this is funny?"

Amy smirked at the bear's accusation. By all accounts, the vole did find it funny that a buttoned-down shirt and a teasing compliment before the match was enough to have her opponent lose focus in the debate. Causing the redheaded grizzly to mix the word 'bowl' with 'boobs' when making her point.

The furious brown-eyed glare from her competition didn't share Amy's view. But she did get to see her smile reflect off those eyes.

"Maybe you should spend more time preparing and less time," the vole pumped her chest out, giving the coyote a preview of her blue bra, "staring. I'm sure it'll be great as a blooper at your school."

A furry paw slammed the locker behind Amy, vibrations sending chills down her spine. She fought against the urge to bite her lip, keeping a straight face as the grizzly bore her teeth at her. The vole imagined those chompers around her breasts, tensely biting down on her nipples with a furry paw against her throat.

"Tell them you cheated."

"Cheated? I just dressed for the occasion."

The paw slammed the locker again, "Listen here, you prissy bitch, I've worked too hard to let someone distract me out of a victory. Now you're going to tell them you-"

"I what?" Amy pressed closer to the bear's gaze, "That I'm the cause of your little 'distracted by sexy' blunder? That I am responsible for your dirty thoughts? Oh, you don't need me for that. No, you could have told the judge right after about it. And yet, here we are," she rested back against the cold blue locker, "With me, right in your shadow and at your mercy. Why don't you tell me what you're really here for?"

Her heart sped as she saw the flush across the bear's face. Amy toyed with her fingers, letting the next scene play out in her mind. The bear would kiss her, force her against the locker with her natural strength and ravage her like the bad girl she was. She'd be pulled by her blonde hair to the nearest bathroom and forced to like at the closeted girl's snatch with two hands holding her down there until she couldn't breathe. Any complaint and struggle would be met with a harsh slap to remind her who was in charge.

Do it. Fucking take me.

"Keep your ribbon," The bear scowled as she straightened herself, "goddamn freak," she muttered while walking off.

A cold flush ran through her as she watched the bear go. She tried to reach out to her, but reality held the vole's hand as realization set in. The moment Amy saw that bear, she couldn't stop imagining her on top of her. The smell of her fur as she forced her against the lockers, or the smile in her eyes as she molested the vole. Thoughts that were so strong that she tried to make them real, teasing the bear to get some kind of reaction. To create some sort of abuse from her.

But that was ridiculous. And in her inane attempts to woo someone she wasn't even sure was gay, she ended up cheating to a victory she was more than capable of winning. She distastefully unpinned the ribbon from her dress shirt, holding it before her with trembling hands as her eyes began to water. Slowly crushing it in her grasp, one thought lingered over and over in her mind.

_What the hell is wrong with me? _

***

"What the hell is wrong with you?" her mother shouted from the driver's seat. Amethyst tried to block her out, focusing on her own reflection in the passenger seat window as her mother drove the sedan back to their house.

"I understand that this is all some sort of phase, Amelia, though I was hoping you'd get it out of the way in high school." her mother complained, lifting her glasses to rub her eyes while they rested at a red light, "The piercings, hair dye, that god awful haircut, and clothing. I took it all in stride because I figured it would make the phase go by faster and you'd be back to your old self. But no, apparently I should have been paying more attention."

Amethyst rolled her eyes at the comment. If her mother ever actually paid attention then she might have noticed the vole's little freak out in senior year. She didn't comment, knowing full well that trying to talk with her mother was as futile as Sisyphus's eternal punishment. Her indigo eyes glanced down at the key in her hand, safely hidden from her mother's prying eyes whenever they stopped. This was the key to her freedom, to remove the belt around her legs that Helga promised she would do tonight. Instead, Mama gave her the key when she unhooked Amethyst and told her to get dressed.

Maybe Helga expected Amethyst to take the belt off when she was getting actual clothes back on. She thought about it, but it didn't seem right as she was rushed out of the door. Yet, Helga seemed to just pass Amethyst to her mother too easily. Why didn't she fight for her?

Could she?

"Why don't you answer your phone when I'm calling? I've called you at least three times today. I had to ask Jewel where you were, only to find out that you're sleeping with someone older than me. And that you hit your best friend. What is going on, Amelia?"

"Noth-" Amethyst was cut off by a raised hand as her mother's cellphone rang. Turning on her earbud, the older vole answered the call with the same professional courtesy that Amethyst had heard hundreds of times before.

"This is Joyce speaking. Oh hello, Miss Anderson. No, there's no need to thank me further. I was just doing my job, and, while it is unprofessional for me to say, your husband's actions were rather motivating."

Amethyst rested her head against the glass as her mother droned on and on. For as long as she could remember, her mother's career was the priority. She let the vibrations of the road lull her away from her mother's self-congratulatory call.

The call was still going as they finally pulled into her childhood home. A two-story tan painted house that reeked her mother's successful court cases. Grabbing her bag, Amethyst slammed the car door behind her as she entered through the unlocked garage door.

Her mother shouted after her, "Amelia."

The calls fell on deaf ears as she ascended to her room, ignoring her as she was so many times. Locking her door behind her, the vole tossed her bag to the floor and plopped herself face first onto her bed.

A knock echoed from the door, "Amelia," her mother knocked again, "Amelia we need to talk."

Amethyst knew that all too well. But her mother was more accustomed to talking than listening. They'd talked so much before, about her struggles, her accomplishments, possible crushes, all ending with the same half-listening nod and a 'You can do it' phrase that made the vole dig into her pillow in frustration.

"Amelia...I don't know what's going on with you, but we need to talk about it. I just want to know what happened to my perfect little girl. I can order pizza if you'd like."

The vole's silence was her answer.

"I'll tell you when it's here."

Amethyst shifted around her bed as her mother's footsteps echoed down the stairs. Her accomplishments hung against the pink walls around her. From spelling bee ribbons to track trophies. Smiles missing baby teeth to smirks of confidence filled pictures she'd stuck there to remind her of what she'd won, of how proud she was.

Each and every one of them made her sick to her stomach.

Her mother wasn't in any of them. Always too busy to give be there when her daughter was victorious. Too busy with her practice to attend any games or meets the vole pushed through in highschool. So preoccupied that Jewel's mother or her own coaches had to be the ones to drive her around before apps like Uber and Lyft could replace them.

She gazed into the mirror opposite her bed. The indigo eyes of a girl dressed in a punk rock shirt, grey sweatpants, and red black sneakers stared back. The green half buzzed hair shifted as she curled up to just forget today.

"Finally got her attention."

Amethyst looked over to the mirror, its reflection smiling back, "Really, you should have done this whole 'punk' phase a while ago. Seemed to be more effective than all those A's."

The vole covered her ears. Her inner thoughts didn't stop, "Or maybe it was the dyke that broke the camel's back. After all, mommy just saw the piercings as nothing more than a phase."

"Shut up," she whispered, staring back at her mirror to see her highschool self. Blond shoulder-length hair, that prime, and proper white shirt and blue skirt with long socks and white tennis shoes. A pink folder in one hand and a blue sports bag in the other, with her field hockey stick hanging out.

"What? We both know it's true," the reflection smiled, "That all of this was to get mommy's attention." the vole in the mirror stepped onto the white carpeted floor and waved the folder around the room, "All these trophies, all these medals, etc, etc. You tried so hard to get each and it was all so your dear old mother could take time out of her day just to acknowledge you. Honestly, I'm amazed you kept it up for so long. You'd think we'd be smart enough to realize that this wasn't working."

"Shut up."

Bag gone, the vole climbed up to Amethyst on the bed. Younger hands gripped her face, pushing the vole to gaze into her middle school self, braces, glasses, and all, "I mean, why else would you try this whole punk cliche? You never even listened to things like My Chemical Romance. No," she pressed forward, "You just wanted to do a complete 180. If mommy's perfect little girl wouldn't get her attention, then maybe dying your hair green and licking an older woman's snatch would. Well, congrats, Amethyst. It did. Now you can drop it."

A cruel smile formed across the now child vole kneeling before Amethyst, "Now you can tell mom you're sorry, and get back to being the perfect girl. I'm sure she'll take you more seriously now. Just go on down there, and tell her that it was all a phase. All to get her attention. Tell her that you'll go back to being perfect."

"I'm not!" she screamed back in a hushed tone, "I...this...I..."

"You're not perfect," Helga whispered. The vole imagined Mama's arms wrapping around her from behind, "You never were, and that's ok."

Resting back into her pillows, Amethyst pictured herself nestled against Helga's chest after an intense session. Her hands gripping the butch pig's clothing tight as she drew herself closer. All her life she had tried so hard to be that perfect person, that bright girl her mother pushed her to be. But every trophy, every win didn't make her satisfied.

"Such a good slut," her image of Helga whispered, the vole's fingers pressed against her tail hole as she dreamed her Mama was reaching for it.

"Yes, Mama," Amethyst whispered as her fingers pressed in. Two of the skinny digits filling where Helga only needed one. She was so close earlier, just a little more from Helga and she could have came with the damned belt on. A hand gripped her metal prison tight as she contemplated removing it. She had the key, Helga gave it to her before she left.

"Just get it over with, you're too horny to think straight," her child form whispered. The younger vole now laying on her stomach and watching Amethyst on the bed. Grabbing the key from her pocket, she hovered it over the lock. For over a week she'd been teased, edged, and gooned by Helga. A week of expanding her ass, kissing the pig's boots, doing household chores with a hood, and taking loving abuse that made her face sting in remembrance. Each memory was another increase to her heartbeat, each thought begging her more and more to just take the belt off and get it over with like she wanted.

Except she didn't want it. Pulling the key back to her hand, she softly bit her clenched fist and looked up to the ceiling. Memories of Helga's strong arms and beer ladened breath came over her as tears formed in her eyes.

If this was just a phase, then she didn't want it to end.