FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Human Bitches

Chapter Fifteen: High Times in High School

Part 2

By Gideon Kalve Jarvis

October guessed that it was just inevitable. What was really weird, actually, wasn’t where she was going, or with whom she was about eat her lunch. What was really weird, at least in her opinion, was that nobody else seemed to have made the connection yet. And weirder still: that she hadn’t taken this last step a long time before now.

She guessed she just had to see for herself what morphs could be like before she made that last connection. As for everyone else…well…morphs generally did their best to be socially invisible; normal people just ignored them while they went about their business.

The underworld of the school was dimly lit, which was only to be expected, since morphs were generally the only ones who spent time down there, and they had better night vision on average than humans. While it wasn’t really talked about, morphs were the reason the school ran at all, their work in maintenance and construction and janitorial services and literally everything else the only things keeping the school’s systems from breaking down. From her past conversations with her lunch partner, and sometimes with his other companions on the school custodial and maintenance staff, she knew that all the major population centers in the world similarly relied on their morph labor to keep things running. Sewer workers, construction workers, road crews, power line workers, power plant workers, engineers of every stripe and profession, they were all morphs, and so was almost everybody else in those positions where nobody saw who you were or what you did, but if you weren’t there to do your job, things started to break down fast.

Thing was, right until that day, with over an hour and a half still remaining in her lunch period, October had never gone into the real depths of the school before. She’s heard about them, seen the maps her friend and lunch partner had shown her, but before he’d always been the one to come out and meet her in one of the various loading areas, parking lots, or parks where they weren’t likely to be spied out by those nosy goody-goodies who seemed to think that it was their responsibility to act as the world’s morality police. Finally, though, spurred by an imagination fired by the sight of what morphs looked like when naked as seen in that film starring the morph stallion Montenegro, and the stark memories of what she’d heard Rachael McMichaels telling Doc Saki was possible between morphs and humans, and a generous helping of youthful hormones and curiosity, the feathery-haired brunette followed her memories of the path she’d seen leading to the official custodial staff break room with unerring precision, never once getting lost in the labyrinth running beneath the school’s workings, among the pipes and wires and ducts never seen by anyone who didn’t belong in those forbidden places.

But she did belong. She had to tell herself that. Even if nobody else understood, she had to always remember that she belonged down there. Smirking at the thought, October couldn’t help but think, in a moment of self-awareness, that of course a goth would be interested in the forbidden, and in the underworld, and in the strange, powerful creatures who lived in that benighted place.

When she finally came to the swinging doors of the custodial staff break room, reading the label above the doors, and pushed her way inside with only a moment’s hesitation, however, October found herself treated to the sight of a lot more of those underworld dwellers than she’d originally planned.

Of course there would be morphs down here. After all, it was their break room, their sanctum away from the prying eyes of the various humans, students and staff, who occupied the upper reaches of the school. Since it was lunch time, even if the morphs in the depths of the school took their breaks in shifts, that meant that somebody would be occupying the break room during that entire period. Naturally, since October was down there almost a half-hour before she’d normally meet up with her morph friend and lunchmate, he wasn’t there yet. Instead, she got an eyeful of two other morphs.

Each of them was buck naked.

With their backs turned to her, not paying the noise from the swinging door any mind, October could take her time to admire the two towering males, one a young-ish zebra, the other a Cape buffalo. The zebra’s striped rump was especially shapely, callipygously curved in ways that were uniquely masculine, with the fine points of twin dimples right at the peaks of those lovely swelling buttocks. Meanwhile, the buffalo was a solid wall of black-furred beef, hard muscle bulging unmistakably beneath that short-trimmed fur. He was just big, big in ways that defied simple classification. Where the zebra’s butt looked invitingly squeezable, the big bovine’s looked hard enough to deflect bullets.

Of course, both of the tall males, handsome, long-lashed zebra and hulking male mountain of bull, were very well-endowed. Their penises were hanging free of their sheaths (though these hadn’t quite fully retracted, letting October get a close look at how their equipment was put together, a thin membrane still visible at the base of their semi-flaccid shafts), and their balls…oh wow. The zebra boy’s looked like each would be a significant handful, while those of the buffalo…they had to each be the size of a ripe orange!

Just being in the same room as these paragons of masculinity made October’s knees start to wobble. In the presence of such powerful male creatures, the most natural response seemed to be to kneel and worship.

“Ghoul has finally decided to capture one of those young bucks that keep raiding the trash, then?” said the zebra, his voice a gently masculine tenor, pleasant on the ears, and faintly accented with the remnants of far distant lands.

“Mmm,” grunted the big black bull in affirmation, his penis giving a slight twitch.

“Presumably Slash and Jake are with him?”

“Mmm,” the bull grunted again, his stonefaced expression unchanging.

“I suppose those foolish young strays only get what they deserve,” the zebra continued, a light smile on his lovely face, looking so serene as he tilted his face upward, even as his penis began a similar slow ascent. “Not that it is their fault, of course. We are only doing them a favor, ultimately, by bringing them in and…”

The nostrils of both males suddenly flared, and October didn’t quite manage to stifle her soft gasp as they turned toward her: they’d smelled her! They must have! Oh God, please don’t let them have smelled how turned-on she’d been from checking them out…

“Hello, miss October,” said the zebramorph, not seeming at all bothered by the goth girl’s entrance into their private sanctum. “I presume that you are looking for Canopus?”

“Th-that’s right, Upepo,” she affirmed, fighting hard (but only partially succeeding) to keep her eyes above the waists of the two flawlessly sculpted males before her, the zebra, Upepo, like a Grecian statue of Apollo, while the big buffalo (whose name, Dhoruba, she recalled in one of those odd moments of arousal-soaked clarity, meant “storm” in Swahili) looked more like a Roman Hercules. “I, well, I just got a bit impatient, and I thought…”

“No trouble at all,” the zebramorph reassured the slim, pale teen with a friendly smile, turning toward her, utterly unashamed of his nudity as he walked the short distance from his locker to the door of the break room, and patted her on the shoulder. “He is in the showers right now. But come: if you wish, you can settle on one of our couches and wait. Perhaps a refreshment? Dhoruba has some lassi in the fridge that I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing.”

For a moment, as Dhoruba did indeed give another grunt of affirmation – dour-faced he might be, but October knew that the powerfully-muscled male was a gentle soul with a deep love of the finer things, and a fantastic cook, even if his tastes ran to the exotic and the vegetarian – October let her eyes stray around the room, taking it in, memorizing it, feeling inside of her that this was only the first of many visits to come, and she should pay attention for future needs. Lockers along the wall opposite the door, some with names above them, others without. Several large chests, some for tools, others for common storage. Two couches and several comfortable-looking chairs around a large, sturdy wooden table. A far smaller card table with a few more chairs. An old-fashioned arcade cabinet, lights flashing from its screen, though the sounds had apparently been muted. A multipurpose game table, adjustable to allow for a variety of configurations.

A door leading off to the showers, framed in textured beige tiles.

“Um, miss October?” Upepo suddenly spoke up, his face showing his utter surprise, while even Dhoruba’s dark eyes had widened slightly. “Don’t you care to wait for Canopus…?”

“I think I’ll help him out instead,” said October, not bothering to look back at the two shocked males, even as she stepped through the open entryway. “That way he’ll be finished faster.”

Like most girls her age – most human girls in the First World, actually – October had been raised by morphs. Female morphs, but morphs all the same, and she’d learned a lot about their behaviors. For one, morphs were trained from their earliest days to take orders from humans; some said that such submission might actually be coded into their genes, while others said it was just the result of especially brutal treatment and indoctrination time spent in subliminal training machines, which until just recently had only been cleared for use on morphs; humans were allowed to use them only now, after they’d been proven time and time again, and the many nasty bugs and side effects had been worked out. Whatever the reasons, October somehow knew that if she acted confident, as though she belonged where she was, and had a right to do what she was doing, then the morphs around her wouldn’t stop her from fulfilling the mission she’d set for herself in coming here.

October had decided that she was going to get her cherry popped by the most perfect male she’d ever met. That he didn’t happen to be strictly human was no longer one of her significant concerns, whatever other people might think.

Hearing Upepo and Dhoruba behind her, though not getting very close, or coming up very fast, October didn’t let herself hesitate as she stepped onto the slightly moist, textured tiles of the wide shower area, sensing that they weren’t going to stop her, even if they might object to her plans: relations between morphs and humans were supposed to be forbidden, after all, even if they weren’t technically illegal anymore (which she’d found out with research done when she was supposed to be paying attention during English class). If they were actually going to stop her, they’d have grabbed her, maybe spoken up a bit more loudly, or done something more than just follow along, looking adorably bewildered.

Then she saw him.

Canopus.

As naked as the day he was decanted.

Tall, his fur sleek, trimmed close until it looked like a second skin over his rippling musculature, the jackalmorph looked like living obsidian. October had seen artistic impressions of the Egyptian tomb guardian god Anubis, some of them enough to make her heart pitter-patter and her whole body tingle, but she had to admit: they didn’t compare to the real thing.

From the first time she’d seen Canopus, October had wanted to drop to her knees and worship him. To submit to him utterly. To let him take her and do with her as he pleased, as his utterly helpless (utterly willing) virgin sacrifice. Only now had her hidden desires finally found their full expression, and she fully intended to ride that crest of courage, and allow the powerful beast before her to claim her as his own.

If only he’d just stop being so nice!

With his back half-turned to her, October had a wonderful view of her friend and erstwhile object of obsession for the first time outside of his custodial coveralls. She had to admit: the wait had been completely worth it, even if she didn’t see everything with that towel still half-draped around his waist, its pearly white softness a stark contrast to the sharp lines of his darker-than-blackness. Standing beneath the gentle drops of water just starting to trickle from the shower spigot above, the anubian jackal’s long, delicately-pointed muzzle was tilted upward into the pending stream, an expression of sweet bliss on his inhumanly handsome face as the first droplets sluiced down over all the many wonderful little bumps and curves and little tantalizing crevices of that gorgeously masculine body, laid so wonderfully bare for October’s viewing pleasure.

One tall, pointed ear tilted toward the pale teen, and then the black-padded nostrils flared, and a single gold-amber eye turned to look at her, freezing her in place, seizing her heart.

“Hello October,” said Canopus, and October’s breath caught in her throat at that deep, achingly masculine voice, even as he continued to be ever the gentleman. “Was I late to our lunch meeting? I could have sworn that I had more time.”

“You’re not late,” October somehow got out, fighting with all her might to regain the moxie and momentum that had let her breeze her way past the de facto door guards in the break room behind her, their eyes wide as they stared in shock and fascination at the scene playing out before them, utterly unsure of what to do. “I just…I wanted to see you a little sooner, that’s all.”

“Ah, of course,” the elegantly-slim, masculinely-muscled jackal said with the slightest of nods, one hand all that kept the towel around his waist from dropping away; he’d obviously been just about to remove it when his human friend had caught him by surprise – and curse the bad timing! “If you’ll just wait a brief while, I will just take a short, cold shower, and be with you…”

“No, Canopus,” October cut him off, stepping closer, one shin brushing against the bench set behind the showers, intended to allow the morphs to sit while they doffed or donned shoes and other articles of clothing; as she drew closer, reaching out a hand to rest it on his warm, naked back, he instinctively turned off the shower so as not to get the girl soaked by its gentle drops. “I…I’m here to help you.”

Three pairs of human eyes grew wide at this admission, watching from within some of the shadowy sections behind the jutting pipework at the edges of the breakroom. Two pairs of morph eyes similarly grew wide, Upepo’s jaw dropping, while Dhoruba’s muzzle parted ever-so-slightly, the most extreme expression of shock anyone who knew him could say they’d ever seen on the laconic bull’s face. Canopus, however, only arched an eyebrow.

“That’s very kind of you, October,” he said gently, the hand on his towel tightening slightly, the only sign of his mild discomfort at being in the presence of a femme whose arousal he could smell quite clearly, right along with her nervousness, her insecurity in spite of the brave face she was putting on; he couldn’t bear the thought of crushing his friend, one of the few humans to have treated him like…well, a person. “But I wouldn’t want you to get your pretty clothes wet: I remember what you’ve told me about how expensive it can be to get just the right look. To,” he paused, calling up the memory of one of their lunchtime conversations, “avoid looking like a poseur, I believe you said.”

“Oh!” October exclaimed, blinking several times, as though such an idea had never once occurred to her…which was very likely, considering how flustered she really was behind all the momentum she’d built up with her bluster into the breakroom. “I…yeah,” she finally admitted. “I guess you’re right: I mean, I really wouldn’t want to get some of these soaked,” she added, brushing her fingerless, black-gloved hand down her corset-confined waist, then over the subtle frills of her midnight-black skirt, and finally briefly touching her fishnets, which only vanished from view when they entered her silver-studded leather boots.

Then a smile spread across her face as her courage surged, and an idea came to her in full, bright clarity.

“I guess I’ll just have to take them off, huh?”

As stately and stiff-upper-lip as any stereotypical British butler, even so, Canopus’ eyes widened as he heard these words, and he started to raise his free hand, began to open his mouth. Was he going to tell October that it wasn’t necessary? That she should stop? That he’d shower by himself?

Ultimately, though, as the leather corset’s laces fell open before his eyes, and those of everyone standing within sight of the breakroom’s open entryway, the shoulder straps falling next, and then sliding over October’s shoulders as she bent forward, to be tossed almost carelessly on the nearest of the metal benches, he didn’t say or do anything. Anything, that is…except watch.

Bent over already, October lifted her head, then gave Canopus a deliberate, slow wink before she turned around, presenting her backside to him. Somehow, with her back turned, she could distance herself from her virgin’s terror, and just focus on the thrill that came as she unbuttoned her skirt, then hooked her thumbs into the waist, sliding it smoothly down her supple, pale-skinned legs, exposing the black lace panties beneath.

Reaching for her boots from her present position, October didn’t see Canopus move. Didn’t even know that he had moved, so silent did he walk across the tiles, his toeclaws not once clicking on the hard ceramic, until his large, lovingly gentle hands covered hers, dwarfing them as though she’d been nothing but a child compared to this…this beautiful god.

“Allow me,” he murmured in her ear, and October could only watch as those long-fingered, black-furred hands so deftly, so expertly thrust a sharp-tipped claw into the knotted laces of first one boot, then the other, then untie them, and so-gently tug them off of her small, dainty feet.

Looking over her shoulder, October could see Canopus half-crouching behind her, his muzzle only bare inches from her naked back: she hadn’t bothered wearing a bra under her corset, after all, since keeping things supported was pretty much a major part of what a corset was for, even a “public display” corset like the one she’d been wearing, all black and surprisingly modest in spite of what it was. His eyes flowed up and down her body, and she could feel them teasing across her naked skin. Imagination flared, and she couldn’t help but think that those eyes were touching her everywhere that he wanted to touch her with those magnificent hands.

Then those wonderful, skilled hands wrapped around the upper-middle of October’s thigh, where the tops of her fishnets ended, and she couldn’t stifle a whimper at their touch, her hands instinctively reaching out, gripping the nearby bench to support herself as she stayed where she was, bent over almost at the waist. Looking down, she could only watch helplessly as Canopus peeled the stocking down, nice and slow, letting her feel the texture of his palms on her pale, naked flesh every inch of the way.

Yeah…she was soaked.

Good thing her panties were black!

Lifting her small foot slightly, October watched Canopus set the fishnet next to her corset with far greater care than she’d shown, before his hands moved to her other thigh. This time, at his touch, she trembled all over, feeling her skin moisten with the sweat of nervous passion. What did he think? Did he like what he saw? Was he just humoring her, trying not to hurt her feelings? Was he actually interested in…?

A blast of hot breath across October’s panties silenced all her thoughts as her eyes snapped open wide, as did her mouth when she gave a sharp gasp.

This time she didn’t lift her leg when her other stocking reached her ankle: she couldn’t! Instead, she stumbled backward, her legs just giving out.

But Canopus was there to catch her.

He’d stood so smoothly, so swiftly, October hadn’t even noticed until she was resting in his arms, with her cheek pressed against the velvet-soft fur of his chest. Unconsciously she raised a hand, stroking it through that fur, luxuriating in the feeling of such lovely softness over such masculine hardness.

That wasn’t the only thing that was hard she suddenly realized with a flush of color to her cheeks as her eyes turned downward, and saw that her black-furred deity had left his towel hung on a peg by the shower spigot when he’d come up behind her to assist with her undressing.

Not letting herself think, knowing that she might chicken out if she did, “bad girl” reputation notwithstanding, October reached down with her free hand, and cupped the heavy weight of that girthy member in her palm, her eyes inspecting it with girlish interest: it was, after all, the first one she’d ever seen so up close and personal, and the brief glimpses she’d had of Upepo and Dhoruba weren’t enough to count, as far as she was concerned, not when she’d been focusing on getting past them to Canopus the whole time.

Biology textbooks published for highschoolers weren’t nearly informative enough, October decided. For one, they had next to no pictures in the human anatomy section, outside of a few sterile black-and-white figure drawings. Still, she’d read what the text had to say about the male penis, and gathered from what she could see – and feel beneath her fingers – that Canopus wasn’t fully erect. No, he was all the way out of his sheath, and that sheath had retracted, but while she could feel a wonderful velvet firmness under her fingers as she wrapped them around the smooth, solid black cylinder, she could also feel a distinct sponginess, and just looking at what she was holding, gripping it lightly without squeezing, only inspecting for now, she got the very distinct impression that when it quit pointing down, it would get to be a lot bigger than what it was now.

Which was a little bit intimidating, actually: Canopus was only slightly less well-endowed than what she’d seen of the big buffalo Dhoruba!

Focus, October tried to tell herself, forcing herself to take deep breaths. Just focus…ah, but that was impossible, wasn’t it? Not with the warm, softly sweet scent of Canopus in her nostrils like fine incense, or his hands around her, one on her back, the other on her waist. She could just melt there, letting him hold her up as though she weighed no more than a feather, admiring the flawless physique of his long-limbed form.

“You seem…eager, October,” Canopus’ voice came, soft and silken in her ears, his breath brushing through her long, ink-black hair. “What brought on this sudden surge of courage? I’ve smelled your interest many times, but you’ve never acted on your desires before.”

He knew! He’d known all along! That…that…!

That gorgeous, beautiful, wonderful beast!

“I didn’t know it was possible,” she explained, putting both her hands on his chest as she turned her head upward to look into his eyes. “I mean…I guess I didn’t think it was allowed. But I heard a girl in my grade talking about…about what she’d done with morphs, and all of a sudden I just knew…I just knew I had to see you, Canopus. Had to find out for myself if it was all true.”

She looked down, her long, dark lashes fluttering half-closed in sudden shyness as she remembered that desire didn’t have to go both ways.

“Had to find out if you wanted me the way I’ve always wanted you.”

There, she’d said it. Everything was out there now, and she’d put the ball squarely on his side of the court (dumb tennis metaphors, she growled inwardly, but couldn’t think of a better one in the heat of the moment).

The hand that had been resting on her waist (and almost wrapped all the way around, it was so large, so utterly powerful) lifted, cupping October’s chin, turning her averted face upward with irresistible gentleness, until her dark eyes met his of amber and gold.

“My October,” he said with a tender smile on his long, slender, and so wonderfully expressive muzzle. “Always breaking the rules, once you learn where the boundaries are set.” Those eyes flicked to the doorway of the bathroom, then, and the smile turned uncharacteristically mischievous. “You can join us in the shower if you wish: I imagine that my dear October won’t mind, and we do like to save water where we can.”

Had he…had he just invited…?

Before she had a chance to piece her scattered, partially shattered thoughts back together, she couldn’t hold back the startled and embarrassingly adorable squeak! as Canopus’ powerful fingers curled into the waist of her lacy black panties, and he slowly knelt before her, his gold-in-amber eyes fixed on her face the whole time he was stripping her absolutely bare, her flawlessly smooth skin looking even more perfectly pale under the white fluorescent bulbs above.

Heart beating so loud in her ears, she couldn’t even begin to think, her legs trembling so much there was no way she could keep standing, October knew that she would have slumped to her knees right in front of Canopus…except Dhoruba was there before she could go down, his massive hands easily encircling her waist, letting her feel the roughness of his calluses on her delicate skin as he held her up with effortless ease. Vaguely, she recalled always thinking that her pale bubble butt stuck out too much, was too fat, which was why she hadn’t worn the butt-hugging fishnets she’d once bought in a moment of desperate abandon, but instead kept to the less ambitious thigh-huggers. Judging from the impossibly heavy weight she could feel brushing against the back of her hip – and still growing! – even as the ever-helpful Upepo took her panties from Canopus, and began to neatly fold her clothes before putting them back on the bench, apparently Dhoruba didn’t mind.

Looking down, unable to hold back a nervous gulp as Canopus rose gracefully back to his feet before her, October guessed that the smoking hot jackalman didn’t mind either.

Then Upepo was past them, turning the handle of the shower, and water was streaming down, its susurration helping to drown out her final misgivings, even as the rush of swiftly steaming water washed them away in a rush of blissful sensations when the powerful pair in front and behind her easily moved her with their mighty bodies into the gentle flow.

And then Canopus was kissing her, his impossibly smooth, strong tongue overpowering hers with an embrace so intense, so intimate, she couldn’t think at all.

More kisses from those wonderfully agile equine lips of Upepo’s teased down October’s neck and then her shoulder, the younger male swift, eager. Then Dhoruba’s lips took up the task on the other side, blunt and powerful and not at all subtle, just like their owner, just before his immense hands simply engulfed her teardrop-shaped breasts, squeezing them between his fingers until her nipples stood out, so painfully rigid she couldn’t stop the wail of pleasure that escaped the moment Canopus released her mouth.

“Hmm,” he hummed to himself musingly, his far more gentle hands replacing Dhoruba’s as he cupped October’s moon-pale breasts, tilting their black-capped nipples upward.

“L-lipstick,” she got out, too drunk on sensation right then to do much else. Canopus’ eyebrows went up at this admission, and he bent his knees slightly, October’s breath catching in her pulsing throat as she watched his muzzle open…and then close on one painfully perked tit, her eyes half-closing as he slowly suckled. His muzzle opened a little wider, the edges curling in a contented smile, and he gently gnawed on her yielding breast, one hand rising to knead what his mouth didn’t cover.

“Dark, sweet cherries,” he declared when he finally, reluctantly, released her breast, which now tingled all over. Then his eyes turned downward, even as Upepo’s eyes widened eagerly, and he moved to kneel next to the jackal. “Hmm…and I wonder if this tastes like cherries as well.”

“AAAIIIIEEEEE!”

Thinking back on it later, October had to guess that it was everything all at once that finally got to her, her body just hitting some sort of critical mass overload. After all, she was still just a teenager, and she was putting her body through some stuff that would have been more than most full-grown adult women could have handled. Upepo’s mouth had begun to greedily slurp on her other nipple just as Dhoruba let his thick, blunt teeth pinch ever-so-gently against the naked skin at the nape of her neck. Most intense of all, though, was the point of bright white pleasure that seemed to just explode upward through her whole body as Canopus cupped her bare, bald pussy with his strong, all-encompassing hand.

Being honest with herself later, October knew that her beautiful demigod hadn’t been rough about touching her. Actually, if anything, he’d been sweetly gentle, just as she’d known he would be. But the combination of that touch that she’d longed for, fantasized about for so very long without ever fully admitting the fantasies to herself, with his hot breath as he’d leaned forward, eager for his first taste – a taste he never got at that time – while his eyes were so bright, so filled with desire, smoldering and savage…it was just too much.

As Canopus’ fingers sank slightly into the yielding flesh of her labia, October squirted, spraying her orgasmic juices all over the beautiful black jackal’s chest.

After that, October didn’t really remember much of the rest of the shower, outside of a few impressions. This was disappointing to her, because she’d so wanted to explore the bodies of the three males, especially Canopus, at her leisure, but her lack of experience – and the expert skill of the three males in question – had made that temporarily impossible. She remembered Canopus’ and Upepo’s hands all over her, sudsing her up with a bottle of sweet-smelling liquid soap, while Dhoruba held her with astonishing tenderness in those powerful, bone-crushing hands, before he ran a detachable showerhead over her smooth skin, rinsing her off while she rested, relaxed and comfortable, in the loving grip of the other two males, letting them trade her off. When she was clean, she felt like she was glowing, as much from the loving expertness of the shower as from her afterglow, and then…well, then she just dozed off.

She couldn’t help it!

Coming to herself a few minutes later, October discovered that she was wrapped in more of those fluffy white towels, resting with her back to the far wall facing the showers, while her hair was dried to perfection, nice and 1980’s feathery like it was supposed to be (the 80’s look was coming back, of that October was certain: Joan Jett was still cool!). Had the three males done that? She’d been fading in and out too much to really remember anything except a hum and a waft of warm upward-blowing air.

Oh, but even if she hadn’t been awake to help those gorgeous males get clean, she still had a ringside seat for watching them do the job themselves. As consolation prizes went, October had to admit, that wasn’t a bad one at all!

They were excited now, she couldn’t help but immediately notice; the first thing she noticed, actually, even before she cared to pay any attention to the way their big, strong hands rubbed over their bodies, soaping themselves up with all the speed they could manage. No wonder! Even the zebra, Upepo, youngest and least “built” of the three, was just…big. Stacked like a stovepipe, or one of those vintage porn stars she’d hunted down on those rare occasions when she’d snuck her way past the cyber-nannies her mother had put on her personal computer: those things were adaptive programs, and beating them once just meant they got smarter the next time! All three had black cocks, too, though that blackness showed quite a bit of variation.

Upepo, the shortest and lightest, had a truly gorgeous butt. Canopus might have been pretty “cheeky,” in October’s opinion, but the zebramorph’s buns were made to be caressed and squeezed and maybe made to serve as a pillow. And however hot their buns might have been, doing something like that to stately Canopus or dour-face Dhoruba just didn’t feel right! As for his cock (October liked that word, “cock;” it made the penis sound like something meant to be shown off in a competition, like a rooster strutting around a yard), it was shiny even before he let the shower run over it, slick with a slight, oily-looking sheen that she guessed came from the very horselike medial ring at its middle; that fleshy ring was probably meant to make sure the whole length stayed smooth and healthy. Besides that central ring, though, the rest of Upepo’s cock was awfully humanlike, and looked kind of slender, though October guessed that might come from its length-versus-girth ratio more than actual point-of-facts. The head of his cock looked like a fat, juicy mushroom, a little bit flattened on top, almost like a young shiitake.

Dhoruba, though: he was just too big for proper words. Right away, October knew that she’d never fit that thing inside of her, never in a million, billion years. (She also knew that she was going to try anyway…well, after she’d loosened up for a good, long time with Canopus, of course.) It had to be at least as thick around as the base of her forearm! Like the rest of his body, his prick (and October decided she didn’t like that word so much: it made the cock’s owner sound like he was one) wasn’t really black, though, not like Upepo’s, or Canopus’ whole body. Instead, he was a very dark brown, not far off the color of some of the darker-skinned students she’d met (though not Principal Washington: she was a more milk chocolate brown in color), the whole length covered in thick, ropy veins, making it look ugly; bloated; grotesque. And just perfect for that big brute of a male. Just looking over that meaty, beefy length made October tingle, knowing that whoever was on the receiving end of that monster would love every moment of the sweet pain that was sure to come with trying to fit it inside.

Then there was Canopus.

Yes.

Then there was Canopus…

Screwing up reserves of endurance she didn’t know she’d had, October forced herself slowly to her feet, one hand resting against the wall, the other gripping the top of the towel wrapped around her torso. Then she blinked, cocking her head to one side, then gave a derisive snort, letting the towel drop so she could use both hands for support. After all, those big brutes had already seen her without anything at all! What was the point of pretended modesty? She didn’t want them to treat her like one of those blushing “good girls” that minced around the school halls, Bibles under one arm, gold crosses dangling ostentatiously from around their necks. She wanted them to hump her like the animals that all four of them really were!

“You and me, baby, we ain’t nothin’ but mammals,” she murmured to herself with a grin as she watched the three muscular males buff themselves off briefly, then step onto a raised platform, one after the other, letting a stream of warm air blow upward, then pull down, sucking away any floating remnants of their freshly-freed fur (which must have been how they’d dried her off, she reflected in a sideways corner of her thoughts). “So let’s do it like they do on the Discovery channel…”

One hand cupping and then (almost) encircling that wonderfully warm, basalt-dark jackalcock, October bit her lower lip.

“Oh wow,” she almost whispered, awestruck, slowly stroking her fingers up and down, watching the very slight “squish” of loose skin that followed the motions of her hand, even as she could feel the solid rigidity of its core beneath her palm. “It’s bigger than it looks.”

“I apologize for the size, October,” Canopus said with a slightly sheepish smile. “You really don’t have to do anything that…”

Instantly his voice died as October pushed him into the dimmer lights of the breakroom (they made his beautiful black fur look just that much better), and kissed him savagely, her hand moving faster now, her grip just a little harder; not too much harder, though: she didn’t want to hurt him.

October was aware of Upepo and Dhoruba closing in around her, but she didn’t care: this moment was too much for her, all she’d dreamed of and so much more as she sank to her knees, feeling the thin carpet under her skin. Both hands came up, hefting the weight of Canopus’ cock as she positioned herself to the side, getting a good view right along its smooth, glistening black length: it was so shiny, she could actually see her reflection in it!

How could she resist? She bent forward, mouth opening, tongue extending…and had her first taste.

The skin of Cahopus’ shaft was even softer and warmer under her tongue than it had been in her hands. Slowly, forcing herself to take her time, to not rush, October continued her licking, up and down, sidling gradually back to her former position, on her knees in front of her gorgeous pagan idol of flawless living flesh. Looking down the barrel of that divine penis, a single bead of precum starting to swell at its tip, she was reminded of a plum, its smoothness and darkness and the fold along the underside immediately calling the fruity image to mind. That, and its size! She understood that Japanese girls (something she’d heard from Yoko) described a guy’s cock as being something like a turtle’s head, but somehow that just seemed too weird for her tastes…or maybe too cute. Maybe it was like an acorn…?

Instantly October’s desperate inner searching for an appropriate descriptive metaphor were interrupted as Upepo took one of her hands from its place cupping the underside of Canopus’ cock, and placed it on his own instead. Impatient horsey! But, well, he was the youngest of the three, wasn’t he? Older than her…well, maybe, since it was hard to tell with morphs, they being decanted rather than born and all that…but still, he gave off the same sort of horny vibe October could feel trembling through her own body, hormones priming her to the peak of sensitivity. With the feel of Upepo’s hot shaft under her sensitive palm, October’s whole body shuddered, and she realized that she’d been trying to get some intellectual distance, to somehow make the whole situation more manageable by using rationality and fumbling for poetic phrasing. With that realization came the loss of her last lingering hesitations, and she finally bent forward, and wrapped her mouth around the head of Canopus’ cock, even as she reached up with her free hand, and took the same firm grip she was presently giving to Upepo to Dhoruba as well.

That taste! It was…it was heaven…

*

In the shadows of the room, Thaxton saw October’s eyes dilate only moments after her lips closed in a tight seal around the slit at the tip of the tall, elegantly slim jackalman’s cock. Was there some sort of a drug in a morph’s precum? Something about morphs that just made it impossible to resist them? Made you need their touch? Made you crave what you just knew, in your deepest heart of hearts, they could satisfy within you, and that nobody and nothing else could?

Whatever the answer, October’s head started to bob, slowly at first, getting a gauge on the task she was undertaking, but soon picking up speed as well as depth. She still only managed about a third of that big black jackalguy’s shaft, leaving it glistening with her saliva, while her eyes took on a glazed, dazed, positively blissed-out look to them, but even a virgin like Thaxton could tell that she was putting her all into her first ever blowjob. Judging by the way the jackal’s mouth parted, his startlingly blood red tongue darting out to lick his chops like some starving beast, the blonde boy had to guess that October was doing pretty well for a first-timer!

Then, as she started to get into the rhythm of sucking on the big doggy dong, the hot goth chick also started to move her hands. She was actually jacking off two well-hung dudes at the same time she was fellating a third! Despite himself, Thaxton couldn’t stop his eyes from running up and down the gorgeous bodies of the three males, picking out how their rumps tensed, the supple curves of the zebra boy’s bottom flexing like those of a wild, four-legged equine, while those solid blocks of muscle that served as the buns of that big buffalo just clenched, his tufted tail raising, showing off the incredible weights of his apple-sized balls.

As for the black jackalmorph…

Thaxton was not gay! He wasn’t some flaming poof like Leslie! He liked girls! He liked women! He was completely and totally interested in the opposite sex!

But wow did that jackal have a really great butt…

Eyes fixed on the large-eared doggie’s buns as he was, Thaxton spotted the signs first, heard the sudden inhalation of Billy and Joey as they saw them as well, all their eyes wide as they leaned forward, knowing in their deepest, most instinctive selves what was about to happen. All three of the morphs were starting to move with October’s motions, the zebramorph thrusting vigorously into her hand, while the stolid, stern-faced buffalo took a more steady pace. Either way, though, they were spurting little “warning shots” of precum, while moving closer together, until their hips were almost touching those of their canid comrade getting the blowjob.

Three perfect, furry rumps all in a row. Three tails suddenly lifting. Three sets of full balls lifting as well, visibly, though not quite as much.

At the last instant, October’s eyes widened, and she made a choked gurgling sound, a gush of cum bursting from around the seal of her lips – there was just too much of it! – while the jackalman’s muzzle curled back, his startling white teeth bared as his gold-amber eyes seemed almost to glow in the dim light of the room. Then October’s head head fell back, her mouth opening, an expression of ultimate, worshipful bliss on her face as the three big morphmales gripped their cocks, stroking them hard, their orgasms each a mighty eruption that gushed thick ropes of cum in a criss-cross over her cheeks, her forehead, her shoulders, her breasts…

My but those were very nice breasts…

So caught up in that moment of male ecstasy was Thaxton, sympathetically sharing the pleasures of the males before him (and immediately recognizing the parallels between his own trio of friends…if they were older…and bigger…and in better shape…and way better hung…but otherwise close analogues!), that the first hint he had that something might be amiss was Billy’s sudden, sharp intake of breath. Even then, he didn’t chance a glance at his fellow glasses-wearing friend, because at that moment, the three males were lifting October, the jackal taking her in his arms and then laying her across the room’s sturdy wooden table, right after the huge beefy guy swept off whatever had been on it like so much debris. Between the three of them, they soon had her all splayed out, and Thaxton couldn’t make himself tear his eyes away from the sight of his first real-life vagina, even as the gasping girl lay back, looking around nervously with those wide eyes, made to look that much bigger, that much more expressive by the black eyeliner circling them so artfully.

Joey’s soft whimper was the next warning Thaxton had that something was awry, but he couldn’t care less, not when that gorgeous, godlike jackalmorph was crawling up onto the table, licking his chops like a hungry beast, his eyes fixed on October’s, holding her there like a mouse before a snake. With a commanding presence like his, radiating raw sexual charisma with every movement, every little expression, Thaxton knew that the zebra and buffalo didn’t need to hold the goth chick’s arms and legs like they were: she couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to! Thaxton knew this because, had he been in the same position, he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to move, would have been completely, utterly, hopelessly at the mercy of this savage, beautiful brute. A brute who, right before Thaxton’s eyes, turned himself around with smooth, practiced grace, until his heavy, still-erect penis was dangling right above October’s wide-eyed face, and his own face, with its long, sharp-edged muzzle was thrusting downward, tongue already extended in eager, bestial hunger.

That was when, too late – far, far too late – Thaxton discovered what it was that had seized his friends: it was the rest of the custodial staff! A great, brown-furred hand covered his mouth, cutting off the cry that he might have made, stifling it to a pitifully adorable whimper as he looked up into the handsome furry face of the tall, wicked-looking hyenamorph who now had poor Thaxton in his clutches.

A glance to the side made it clear that he was anything but alone in his travail: there was a broad-shouldered body-builder of a skunk holding Joey in a grip as gentle as it was absolutely irresistible (and my goodness the big guy had such heart-meltingly soft hazel eyes), and Billy was frozen with indecision in the arms of a long, lean-muscled, brown-furred rat with a nasty leer and biceps that looked almost as big as the boy’s head, at least from where Thaxton was standing.

Yeah, there was no way they were getting out of this one.

Standing nearby were two more morphs. One was hunched over, another hyena, but unlike the one holding Thaxton, who had a surprisingly handsome face (strange to think of a hyena as handsome), this one was…well, he looked downright psychotic. One eye, scars all over as much of his body as could be seen around his blue coveralls, and a body that seemed constantly in motion, Thaxton got the impression that this guy was exerting all his willpower just to keep from giggling; he certainly did grin a lot, and boy did he have sharp teeth!

The other guy, though, was a lot more laid back. With a red billed cap concealing his eyes, this was a Rhodesian Ridgeback morph, his fur trimmed nice and short beneath his sweaty coveralls, his manner relaxed, casual, simply exuding a state of calm that made Thaxton feel that he and his friends weren’t in any danger, whatever else might be about to happen. The ridgeback actually seemed…well, he seemed like some sort of country “good ol’ boy,” the sort of guy you called on to fix your plumbing, or your car, or your life, because you knew he could be depended on, without any pretentiousness to get in the way.

“Looks like we got ourselves some peeping toms,” said the redneck morph with a gentle drawl to his soft voice, soft enough so as not to disturb the players in the scene beyond the shadowed edges of the room, behind the exposed pipework. “And I’d say we’re gonna enjoy teaching ‘em what happens to boys who go snooping around where they don’t belong.”

“MMMM!”

That was the sound of October as she wailed around her more-than-mouthful of thick, juicy, black jackalcock, her legs kicking against the grip of the males holding her against the table, her whole body thrashing as she obviously, visibly hit her orgasm, bucking and jerking as the sleek-furred male positioned over her slowly worked his hips, making sure she had enough time to handle him without choking. At the same time, he alternated how he used his muzzle, his tongue curling this way and that, never quite penetrating too deeply into the goth girl’s smooth, pale pussy. Mostly he seemed to be focusing on nibbling, sucking, and licking his way around the tasty pink flesh of her labia, inner and outer (a prior anatomy lesson flashing back to Thaxton with perfect recall in that moment of lust- and panic-fuelled stress).

The sound of a zipper – his – snapped Thaxton’s attention back to the big paw already so easily opening up his pants. Right next to him, Billy’s rat was doing the same, and doing it faster, showing that his oddly naked-looking pink hands were incredibly dexterous in spite of their size. A moment later, his pale penis was standing erect right next to Billy’s carob-colored cock, his raspberry pink glans a sharp contrast to his best friend’s deep mahogany-tipped cockhead, a contrast made more mirror-image by them both being circumcised, as per longstanding American hospital tradition. Once again, the contrast was driven home by the hands holding their respective shafts, stroking them slowly, unhurriedly, Thaxton’s in the dark-furred paws of the otherwise tan-furred hyenamorph, feeling surprisingly calm considering the circumstances, while Billy shuddered, already tensed up on the balls of his feet as the thuggish ratmorph showed his sharp incisors in a taunting grin while he stroked the boy’s penis with deliberate slowness, keeping his captive from reaching a release before the rat wanted it to happen.

Hearing a whining gurgle from ahead of him, Thaxton’s eyes lifted just in time to see October’s eyes wide-but-unseeing, her body straining against the powerful hands holding her down. Her throat was gulping convulsively, swallowing down a copious load of jackalcum, while her body was bucking upward, trying to burst free of the irresistible grip of the morphs all around her. Canopus, though, easily held her thighs splayed, even as his muzzle formed a tight seal around her pussy, while the big buffalo and gorgeous zebra pinned her arms.

For a moment longer, Thaxton let his eyes play up the exquisite, tensed rump of the anubian lookalike, his tail hiked over those flawless obsidian curves and weighty, smooth-furred sac as cum finally started leaking down October’s chin, overflowing her ability to swallow it all down. Then his eyes turned downward, where the one-eyed hyena was kneeling in front of him now, grinning up at him so very, very wickedly, showing so many teeth as he wrapped his fingers around the human boy’s shaft, his other hand cupping Thaxton’s balls.

Glancing to the side, Thaxton had just a moment to see the cap-wearing canomorph glance at the bodybuilding skunk holding redheaded Joey, and to feel a brief spark of confusion and curiosity as the broad-shouldered mephitomorph shook his head, one big hand cradling the freckled kid’s cock lightly. Another moment passed, while the ridgeback’s nostrils flared, scenting something that only morphs would notice – something beyond mere human senses – before he nodded back, then knelt in front of Billy, licking his lips eagerly as he turned his head to one side and then the other, giving the other boy’s penis a good looking-over, even as he wrapped his fingers around the base, holding the rock-hard length up and steady.

“Not bad,” he commented in that casual drawl, leaning forward as he spoke so that Billy couldn’t repress a shudder at the feel of hot breath on his most tender parts. “Not bad at all…smells right tasty, actually…”

“Yum!” yipped the frenzied hyenamorph with a manic giggle, and instantly Thaxton found that he would have cried out – he did cry out! – but for the strong, handsome hyenamorph behind him with the hand going back over his mouth, stifling his outburst of sudden pleasure as the smaller hyena greedily gulped down his penis and started enthusiastically bobbing his head. In moments, the boy’s pink-skinned penis was glistening with hyenaspit, his knees trembling, his eyes starting to glaze over as he moaned unashamedly into the massive, calloused hand covering his mouth.

Nearby, the bill-capped dogmorph was taking it slower on Billy’s dark length, but with a lot more deliberate skill. If anything, the slower pace just hit poor Billy that much harder, giving him the time to really feel what was being done to him, as one of the canomorph’s strong hands rested on the boy’s hip, the other caressing his balls just so, lifting them a little, a finger slipping into the tender crease just behind. And as his hand worked, the redneck cocksucker’s head sank forward, his cheeks hollowing out with the suction he applied to the smooth shaft in his mouth, his tongue visibly working, based on the movements of his neck as he drew back with equal slowness, leaving Billy’s penis slick and shining, but only for a moment, before the dogmorph was thrusting his head forward again.

“Mmm…” October was crying out in the background, her voice heavily muffled, the sound like the first tremors of distant thunder. “Mmm!” she exclaimed as Canopus’ hips drove irresistibly downward, almost right to the gates of her throat. “AAAAHHHH!”

At the very last moment, the anubian jackal pulled back, his mostly-drained balls giving a final convulsion, his cock twitching, shiny black head throbbing once more as it popped free of the pale-skinned goth girl’s black-lipsticked mouth, before spurting the final dollop of his orgasm across the trembling teen’s face.

Only barely aware of the human girl collapsing limply to the hardwood table, panting for breath as Canopus rolled off of her, Thaxton didn’t resist as the tall hyena holding him adjusted the grip of his hand over the boy’s mouth, and then squeezed two of his fingers past Thaxton’s unresisting lips.

“Suck it,” the hyena growled in his captive’s ear, before nipping the lobe lightly. “Pretend it’s my cock…”

For an instant, Thaxton’s eyes flicked to Billy, but Billy was already bobbing his head just like the dogmorph fellating his swift-pulsing penis, his eyes heavy-lidded as he pursed his lips around the ugly pink fingers of the ratmorph. Knowing there wasn’t any point in resisting, not knowing if he wanted to try anyway, Thaxton’s own mouth parted, and he felt a wicked thrill run through him, from toes to the top of his head, as his mind’s eye clearly pictured a fat, copiously-dripping morphcock thrusting cruelly into his helpless mouth. Canopus’ cock, the one he’d seen most recently, flashed immediately into his imagination…but soon it was replaced by another, a thick pink length that he’d seen twice before…once out in the yard, on a laptop surrounded by girls, and once before, on his personal device just as he’d been stepping out of the boys locker room.

“MMM!” exclaimed Billy in immediate, desperate distress, and Thaxton’s mind snapped back to full clarity, his eyes snapping to the side, seeing the big dog kneeling before his friend slipping his hand beneath Billy’s beltline, tugging down the other boy’s pants. One of those fingers extended, and then slipped between Billy’s firm, taut buns.

“Mmm,” whimpered Thaxton pitifully, looking over his shoulder at the strong hyenamorph holding him, shaking his head with a muffled plea for mercy on his face as he heard Billy’s wail of virgin penetration. “Plss…nngh!” he almost sobbed as the hyena smirked, then gave his friend sucking Thaxton’s cock a firm nod, prompting Thaxton to turn his attention downward. “Nnn!” he pleaded as best he could, even as the scarred-up, one-eyed hyena giggled around his muzzlefull of tasty boycock, his hand swiftly moving to mirror the actions of the dogmorph finger-frigging poor Billy. “Mmm!” Billy cried out, frantic now, squirming his hips even as he felt a finger so easily finding the snug, virgin bull’s-eye of his anal ring. “MMMM!”

Pop!

Of course there actually wasn’t any such noise. That was just the sound effect Thaxton filled into place in his mind as he felt that fiendishly-skilled, frighteningly gentle finger penetrate him. Instantly his whole body tensed up, his back arching, his head pressing against the broad coverall-covered chest of the hyena behind him as he cried out loudly into the hand covering his mouth. Then the giggling hyena’s finger caught and rasped against something inside of Thaxton, something he’d never even dreamed could exist until that moment. Instantly his whole world turned to an explosion of white, then red. He was pretty sure he screamed. He knew that he came, hard, again and again and again.

“Remember this,” came the voice of the broad-shouldered skunkmorph holding Joey, a soft, sweet rumble that teased over Thaxton’s subconscious mind, somehow more clear to him even than his own cries, or those of Billy right next to him. “We know that you care about someone: we can smell him on you. You want to be his, don’t you?”

There was a pause, and Thaxton vaguely heard Joey’s high-pitched, affirming grunt, and knew there was a nod that accompanied it.

“You’re going home with blue balls, kid,” chuckled the redneck ridgeback as he stood up from where he’d been kneeling, letting Billy slump limply into the arms of the long, tall rat, and leaned over to give the freckled redhead a friendly pat on the shoulder. “But it’s for your own good. You’ll thank us for it later.”

“As for you two,” growled Canopus, somehow having moved from where October was lying sprawled across the table, buffalo and zebra gently licking her smooth, pale skin clean, while Thaxton and Billy were left limp as well-used dishrags in the grips of their respective morphs. “We’ll trust you to keep quiet about everything that went on here. After all,” he added with the lightest of smirks, “you were participants. But remember,” he leaned in close, his muzzle splitting wide, showing his razor-sharp teeth like a slash through the clouds on an overcast night, letting the bright silver light of the moon blaze down. “Next time we catch you back here, we’re going to keep you.”

“Hope you do come back: that wouldn’t be a bad consolation prize for those cute muttmorphs giving us the slip,” chuckled the bill-capped morph with an affirming nod, before he motioned with his head toward October, who was already starting to come around again. “What about her?”

“We don’t have a maidenblade here,” said Dhoruba, glancing up as he finished tonguing off October’s breast, while Upepo happily continued to suck on one perked black-painted nipple. “And we don’t have enough time left on her lunch break to properly penetrate her without one.” His face turned grim for a moment. “This isn’t like Liberia.”

The African-based morphs all shared a look at that statement, and the other morphs, Jake the Rhodesian Ridgeback (who, in spite of his Southern drawl, was British made, though he’d been handed over to the Americans early on, as a U.N. transfer), and Belknap the skunk frowned in sympathy: Slash and Ghoul, the hyenas, and Canopus, Dhorupa and Upepo had been decanted by one of the many West African warlords who’d tried to dominate their little parcels of land with a black market artificial womb and some bootlegged subliminal training programs. Of course they’d never been able to field the sheer quantities of morphs that the First World nations could, but as long as the First World stayed distracted – as it always did – just a few squads of morphs, working with the rigid precision instilled by their subliminal trainers, could do far more than whole platoons of undisciplined boy recruits and crass foreign mercenaries.

One of the most common ways for these warlords to spread terror was to “feed” the women and girls of the villages they conquered to their morphs. Naturally, this meant rape.

At least, that was what the warlords had expected. But morphs can’t rape. Not like humans, at least. That wasn’t to say that they didn’t have sex with human women, though: far from it. Once the women they were given realized that they were safe, and that the morphs weren’t the monsters they’d thought, safety soon turned to confidence, and confidence turned to compliance, knowing that at least making it appear as though they weren’t enjoying themselves would satisfy the sadists trying to dominate their land, and before too long, most morphs serving the warlords of West and Central Africa discovered the joys of sex with humans many years before the concept ever began to spread among the morphs of the First World. This was the reason that Canopus and his comrades didn’t flinch when presented with October’s offer: for them, they’d felt a gap in their lives, one left by the cruel sweep of whyker, which struck the most human-populated parts of West and Central Africa hardest of all, wiping countless thousands of miles clean of human life, suddenly and most satisfyingly filled.

Only natural, then, that they’d want the girl’s first time to be only positive: all the better to encourage her to come back for more!

“What about these, then?” asked Upepo, looking up curiously as he finished licking up the last drops of creamy morphcum staining October’s alabaster skin. “Are we really going to just let them go?”

By this point, Thaxton and Billy were standing under their own power, while Joey looked up at the tall, commanding males around him. Unlike his two friends, however, he didn’t seem at all nervous, only curious, not shying away from Belknap’s touch, though he did blush a bit when the big skunkguy patted his butt through his bluejeans.

“Scoot,” said the stripey morphmale with a genial smile, motioning with his muzzle toward the door out of the break room. “Before Bugsy here talks us into changing our minds.”

“Hey!” growled the long, lean ratmorph, curling his lip in a mock snarl, though this was soon spoiled by a chuckle as he watched the three human boys make their immediate exit. “I wasn’t…well…all right, maybe I was,” he finally admitted with a shrug. “But you were all thinking it, too!”

That brought an immediate silence among the eight custodial morphs as they all traded slightly guilty glances. After all, past acts notwithstanding, they were all civilized now, and civilized morphs didn’t do things like that!

Well…most of the time, anyway.

“What about her?” Ghoul suddenly piped up, the slightly hunchbacked, one-eyed hyenamorph ambling over to the table where October was lying, her lovely breasts rising and falling with each breath, her eyes heavy-lidded as she half-dozed, splayed out, her smooth, pale body on full display for them all – and they all made sure to take advantage of the opportunity! “If we’re not popping her cherry, what’re we doing, then?”

“We will wait until she comes around,” Canopus declared, the unofficial leader of that little pack, and since Jake, the unofficial beta male, didn’t raise any objection, but only tilted his billed cap a little lower over his eyes, that was the end of the discussion. “Then we shall discuss arrangements for, hmm,” he paused, a light smile playing over his lips. “I think our dear October would likely call it a ‘virgin sacrifice.’”

“Ooh yes,” moaned October dreamily, her eyes closing at the words, a very naughty smile curling her mouth upward. “That’s exactly what I’d call it!”

*

With Miss Benny still finishing up her training with Spike, and hence unavailable as a chauffeur (though he assured Rachael that he’d be finished with her after another week – he’d have finished sooner, except for the rather sudden increase in demands on his time with the recent rush of events; Rachael had to admit, taking the hot mess that was the weekend into account, he had a good point), redheaded Rachael settled next to Yoko near the back of the bus, Yoko kind enough to let her friend have the window seat.

“You’re saying that Cutty has a fanclub?” the carrot-topped teen asked Yoko incredulously, arching an eyebrow. “I admit, he’s easy on the eyes for a scaly sort of guy, but are there that many girls actually interested in an alligator?”

“What’s wrong with alligators?” Yoko countered with a slight mock-huff, pushing her glasses up her face, before she grinned mischievously and pulled out her laptop, opening it up to show Rachael the latest logs of her online chat-play. “Girl has been really informative for all of us,” she explained, letting Rachael, wide-eyed and blushing, start to scan over the lines of text on the screen. “And, well, there’s the roleplaying as well, but that’s not so important as the OOC stuff,” she added with a blush of her own. “Camilla’s seen him and Bernard, that Great Pyrenees cutie, around the library a lot: they’ve got their own table staked out and everything. Actually, she’s talked to them both several times, and they’ve always been friendly. She’s not the only one, either: that’s Zelda’s username, chiming in with her experiences, and Mary Sue’s, and Betty’s, and…”

“Pretty much all the library bums, then,” Rachael concluded with a smirk, her twin odango braids bobbing as she shook her head. “So if Cutty isn’t careful, he’s going to be up to his ear-slits in hot nerds. And his fluffy dog, too,” she added with a barely-restrained giggle.

“You make it all sound like a bad thing,” Yoko countered, both girls sharing a friendly smile, body language making it clear that neither was serious. “Not that you were complaining one bit when Bird and all the soccer team left school and went straight to the bus stop, just so they could head straight to Spike’s. And we both know what’s going to happen there!”

“Not really,” Rachael countered. “Spike seems to be taking this…no, that’s not right: he takes everything seriously. But I think that he’s actually interested in turning the soccer team into winners. I think he feels like he’s got something to prove, judging from how I heard him talk about it this morning, right before Girl scooted me out the door.”

“Fair enough,” Yoko hedged. “But still…”

“Yeah,” and this time Rachael did giggle. “But still.” She frowned a moment in thought, then pulled out her cell phone. “I’d better give his front office a call, and let him know I’m going with you to the library, to help out with your flash mob seduction of poor Cutty.”

“You never bothered to call your mother and tell her where you were going to be,” Yoko observed, her eyebrows raised, but her tone reasonably neutral. “Even when she wasn’t out of town on business or helping some politician.”

“Yeah,” Rachael admitted, blinking at the realization, then shrugging as she started dialing the number. “Kind of weird, isn’t it?” she added, her tone making it clear that she’d changed the subject…at least mostly.

“What is?” asked Yoko as she ‘got’ the change in subject, just as the dial tone started on Rachael’s phone.

“How all of this is just falling into place,” said Rachael, a slightly dreamy smile on her face as she thought through the developing situation, and her own minor place in it all. “How everything seems to be working out just right.”

“All the dominoes in a row,” Yoko agreed with a shrug of her own, just a moment before Girl answered the phone.