The Schoolgirl
#1 of Anthro Pokémon
This took me 4 casual days to completely write and edit, with quite a few interruptions inbetween. That's a good time for this quality, right? Hmm, although I did want to hurry up when writing the ending... It's getting continued though, so perhaps it's fine?
In the meantime, let me know what you liked and disliked in the comments, down to the smallest detail or word choice. Feel free to send me private messages as well. Follow me if you want to see more.
And finally, thank you for reading.
Main characters: Absol, Eevee All other characters considered supporting cast Anthro setting
Third stall from the left. 8:30 AM, 12:30 PM, and 2:50 PM. At the tip of the two northern wings, where the two halves of the school meet. On this campus, elementary grades 1-5 are in the west wings, while elementary grade 6 and all middle grades are in the east wings. With such a large pool of fuzzy people in one spot, mixed schools like these can be... quite interesting. If you feel like listening, I have some stories to share. It'll be fun, trust me. But first, an introduction...
I am a 14-year-old student named Sil. My family moved to a tropical region not long after I was born for business reasons, and we found that our kind was considered exotic here. Ever since I began schooling, I had felt a certain uniqueness that comes with being the only female Absol in the entire school, and I wore that status with pride. As my identity bloomed over the years, I have since been told that I talk with a fierce directness and use a forceful approach to many things. I often glare at people with piercing eyes, yet my unique beauty and hard-to-get nature has made me a natural classroom celebrity every single year. Such viciousness makes it so that even the faculty don't like to entertain the thought of confronting me. Perhaps it's the above-average height for a young lady? The shorter adults here must be used to being able to finally look down upon others, so being at the same level as a mere student...
Hm. With all that said, let's continue - starting with my body. I take great pride in my thick, well-maintained white coat, which I've given a beautiful sheen with only the best products, yet it still has that signature feline softness that melts into your touch. The finest black fur covers my normally blank, unreadable face. A curved, bluish-black horn and matching tail adorn the ends of my body, with nary a scratch or chip to be found on either, and they have been dulled for practicality. The same cannot be said for my polished claws, kept sharp for many reasons. They were born relegated to the ends of my fingers, and thanks to how small they are, they're worth maintaining for very delicate work. Pawpads adorn my feet, but not my hands, with my legs built much in the same way as a purebred Lucario. My red eyes have been called 'haunting' before - what a poet that boy was - yet I think that suits a stoic demeanor like mine quite well. As for my chest... They can be a handful, I suppose, but little more than that. As far as I know, they'll stay around that size, if my mother is anything to go by. My hips are similar, giving me a slim, womanly silhouette. On campus, I'm limited to wearing the girl's uniform, consisting of short sleeves and a slightly frilled skirt, as well as dark-colored stockings. The white color of the shirt is clearly shown to be imperfect when placed upon my own beautiful coat, and the basic fabric clashes with its perfectly-groomed texture as well. Indeed, the skirt isn't to my taste, either, and the ridiculous, distended socks make you sweat if you wear them for too long. My fur is naturally heavy, and I refuse to cut it down. As a result, I sometimes feel...
I sometimes feel like I want to take off all my clothes. Right there, in the middle of class. The broiling heat would leave in a flash, and a cool updraft would blow across my nipples...
Oh, but I can't, can I? There are rules, and stigmas, and very, very talkative people who would make sure a story like that would get passed down for generations to come. So, I don't. Instead, I just go where all the mischief-makers go to do their thing - the restrooms. Though, unlike the other thick-coated girls with this habit, I prefer to take the boys' room. Why is that, one might ask?
It began with an accident.
It was after the school year started, halfway through the day in one of the northern wings that I had never even touched until very recently. The weather had been abnormally hot all week, irritating most everybody. I wasn't looking forward to wearing the stuffy uniform for another several hours.
The classroom was doing group activities at the instruction of our teacher. It was a smart change of pace, considering that not everybody knew each other just yet thanks to the large shifts that come with the new school year, but it likely wasn't the instructor's idea. He was a pink Snubbull, slow and dim-witted enough that he would eventually be mockingly nicknamed 'Slowpoke.' My group and I were essentially halfway through with the lesson, yet I was nearing the end of my rope. Even with all the window blinds closed, it still felt like I was being immolated, with my coat as the tinder. I had already undone one button in by shirt, but...
"Ugh! Nate, get your feet off the table!" complained Sentret Cindy.
"Tch. Lay off it," snaps the troublemaker Poochyena, leaning back in his chair with a smartphone in hand. I sighed, shaking my head.
We were only beginning the second part of the lesson out of three. In our 3-person group was that rather rude boy - I simply didn't want to grant him the pleasure of seeing any more cleavage. In fact, I was quite worried that he'd take a creepy photo of me. As for what the lesson required, it involved the role of leader rotating around the group, with the others assisting them in doing... something. Cindy had proven herself well, but the Poochyena? He hasn't got a chance without us.
"And Sil, stop fanning yourself and do something about him..." whispers the Sentret. Not my fault our instruction pamphlet was so nice and sturdy. I was leaning an elbow on the table, supporting my head with one hand and cooling off with the other, but I decided that I might as well take a couple shots at it.
I fling the pamphlet at the boy to get his attention. As soon as it strikes his nose, he immediately tenses up, as if he was in for a fight. "You haven't even read this yet. Get to work," I ordered.
"Oh my god I'm almost done with this, just stop," he shoots, tossing the paper back at me with excessive force, giving it a heavy crease, before going back to swiping his fingers across the screen. Is this boy really 14? He has the maturity of a first grader.
"I'm not feeling it today, Poochy." His eyebrow twitched. He hates being called Poochy. "Last chance. Get to work."
"What, I don't get three strikes?" he asks mockingly.
An exasperated sigh left me. Cindy was already hurriedly writing for the group project to make up for the lost time. Time for the big solution.
I take a nice little stretch, one where I hold my free hand up high for a long period of time. Being hot is quite tiring, you see. So tiring that it could make someone just skip to their last resort straight away.
Before I knew it, his legs were off the table. But he was still busy with his game, even as he kept glancing up at me in frustration. I told him that it wasn't good enough by keeping my hand in the air, and he eventually continued complying by finally putting away his phone.
I yawned. Is this Snubbull ever going to notice?
"C'mon, don't get me in trouble. I, uh... we're groupies, right? We're supposed to help each other, 'n'..."
Ah, finally, the teacher's looking my way. Not only that, but the Poochyena is finally pushing his nose into the pamphlet.
"Alright, look, I'm reading, just... put your hand down already!"
Hm... Should I? I wondered. No, he's not groveling at my feet. And he's probably not going to process the words he's staring at, anyways. I think I'll use this chance to take my leave.
With those thoughts in mind, I let the teacher call on me anyways. The annoying boy looked at me with utter despair as I put my hand down, then became relieved when it was just a 'bathroom break.' Asking for that was multipurpose; I didn't want to make him feel punished after finally putting effort into work, yet I still needed to air off the heat. Oh, but he still got the short end of the stick - I didn't intend to come back for at least 5 minutes. Too bad Cindy has to suffer as well... I'll make it up to her somehow, I thought.
I walk aimlessly through unfamiliar territory. Unlike classrooms, you cannot simply follow a pattern of number labels up to your destination. Instead, you just have to keep on searching for those signs and water fountains. In my case, I darted towards what caught my eye the most, the fountain. There was only one of them here instead of two - somehow, I thought that implied only one restroom as well. The heat had been getting to me. After taking up my fill of sadly warm water, not good enough to make me stop heaving, I sauntered inside what I thought was the only lavatory, deftly entering a random stall near the entrance. Perhaps it wouldn't have mattered if it was a unisex restroom after all, yet the fact remains that I made easily avoidable errors...
I close the door quickly, before anyone else can see me unbuttoning my uniform. Some graffiti on the wall distracted me as soon as I entered, and I only tore my eyes off it after I had started to unhook my bra. Once it had already fallen away, I finally faced where I thought there was only porcelain, and then arrived to the dreadful realization that I was not alone. My eyes came upon the terrified, blushing form of a small boy that I can only call Eevee. The poor thing was just fiddling with his phone and nothing else until I barged in, all huffing and puffing. It looked like I was unbelievably desperate for him - he must have been the luckiest 11-year-old in the whole damn region.
We stared at each other for the longest time, my unfixed shirt just dangling on my shoulders. He couldn't believe that he was seeing an older student's bare breasts in such an unlikely place, whilst I couldn't believe that I had made such incredible mistakes. After a while, I too began to feel flushed, but... it didn't feel bad. There wasn't very much embarrassment. Rather, exposing my body like this, to someone I don't know, felt...
No, no. How is flashing myself to this Eevee any different from flashing Nate, the Poochyena? Was it his more adorable face? His own rarity, almost parallel to mine? Perhaps it was that he was the embarrassed one, making him seem so humble. Those humble ones, the nice ones. They're so easily...
Exploited. Abused.
...
...Loved?
...
...I wanted to do all three of those things to him. I had the chance.
Agonizing seconds passed. My heartrate wouldn't go down, and thinking about, realizing why that might be didn't help. His sparkling brown eyes kept flicking around in panic, alternating between taking in the majesty of the teen breasts in front of him and my unreadable face. How I wanted to test him. Judging by his gaping mouth, I could tell that he was too dumbfounded to speak any time soon, and so I took the initiative. Standing up straight, trying to ignore the wonderfully cool air blowing up across my bare stomach, I looked the boy in the eyes. My voice nearly faltered - I've never taken a risk like this before, and for such an unpredictable reward.
"...Hey. I want to use this stall," I tell him, almost openly ordering him to leave. But instead of doing that directly, I kept it uncertain, ambiguous. At first, I thought I was teasing him, before tossing him out with a cut he'd never quite explain to anyone. But no - I wanted to dare him. Dare him to say the wrong thing. Awaiting his answer, I kept my cold, crimson eyes focused on his. Eevee squirmed, quickly breaking eye contact, uncomfortable from my apparent hostility and exposed womanliness - and something else. Even the school uniform pants, infamous for being tough on maturing boys, failed to suppress the kid's erection. When I saw it, I quietly felt an explosive spark of pride in my femininity, and softened my aggressiveness. He then opens his mouth, and squeaks something out.
"I... I-I was here f-first?" he blurts, in... defiance? Or perhaps he was genuinely trying to make a deal with me!? Either way, I cracked a sly smile at both ideas. My body was getting hotter.
"Oh? Alright, then. What can I do to make you leave?" I ask. But he doesn't quite respond. His scared little voice was a mess of filler words and noises, desperately trying to find something to say. My smile grew ever slightly wider with every failed answer. He was just so cute, and I was just so... captivated. I was so enamored with this strange situation that I... sped things up. I pressed my hands against his shoulders, pinning him back so he couldn't escape. The phone dropped from his hand, which he failed to notice as his attention was set on my twins as they jiggled about, still free of fabric. It was then that I realized that pushing myself away from a situation like this would just be betraying myself. Why - I think I quite like teasing boys.
Lifting his chin up, I leaned in close to his fluffy little ear. "Maybe we can negotiate after you're satisfied, hmm?"
The words slowly seeped in. I traced the dull edge of a claw down his shirt. Every muscle I touched stiffened up, a perfect, flawless measure of his rising anticipation. His breathing became deep and challenged as it wore on; he couldn't possibly muster up an ounce of strength to defy me. When I reached below the belt, his whole body froze up, turning my lips into a naughty, evil grin. Before I could think about what I was doing, both hands darted under his waistband, letting me forcefully tug off his tight pants, boxers too, and feasted my eyes on what popped out.
It was a small tower of twitching red flesh, flushed with desire and fresh male hormones. His sheath had held on to his canine knot until I so rudely removed his clothes, and I got to witness it pop out and show me his true size. I could smell it all, his scent overpowering the rest around us, and I could feel my womanhood quiver. I've seen naughty pictures of these before, but this one? This one looked like new. It was completely full, as if close to bursting, and boasted not a single imperfection, minus, perhaps, its size. He was still a growing boy, after all. My, I wanted to play with it...
As soon as I touched it with my hand, he nearly yelped, tuning himself down to a desperate whine. He kept up that pathetic noise as I continued undaunted, testing his penis with a careful little pinch. Firm, yet still soft...? Giving it a few rubs with just two curious fingers are all it takes for him to leak out gob after gob of precum, spattering on his shirt and staining my digits. The warmth, and the slickness... It surprised me. I left him alone for a second just to play with the unknown liquid. Just feeling someone else's love juices, of the other sex no less, was... magical. I soon returned to pleasuring the boy, this time gripping his tool fully, gently fondling him with my full hand. Each second made me learn more and more, from how his rod would push back against me if I held it far enough away, to how he reacted whenever I tried something just a little different.
But I wouldn't be satisfied with just touching him, no. My hot, soaking nethers felt like they were melting. Clothes and fur don't like to mix, and I still have more to take off. I tear my hands away from my adorable victim and let him watch as I bend down to take off my school skirt, immediately followed by my plain white panties. As I straighten up again, I feel his eyes drinking in the view of my pussy, a thin, wet slot hiding behind tufts of matted fur. Taking a finger, I hurriedly rub it against my sex over and over, occasionally bumping the clit, pushing my hips out and towards the Eevee's direction. For the most part, I only wanted to relieve myself of some frustration, but entertaining my partner was a plus, too. One hand against the wall, the other furiously sending sparks of ease through my tense body and getting soaked as a reward. It was one of the best fingering sessions I've ever had, yet I never even reached orgasm from it alone.
Soon, I, too, was a shuddering mess of confused hormones. When I decided I was through with my hand, I deviously spread myself wide, showing him my untouched hymen - though I don't think he even knew what that entailed. Meanwhile, both of us were slick with our own sexual fluids, but only one was competent enough to make more magic happen.
Stepping over the young little fox, I carefully take a seat in his lap, making sure to avoid his budding manhood, deliberately letting it slide against my butt and rest there. His trembling voice reached another level of distress - "P-please, stop, we can't," and "C'mon, please, I-I'm gonna miss class," and other such useless noises. I put a hand behind his head and simply brought him to my chest, and just like that, he quieted himself back down to needy whines. I let him bask in my clean, female scent as I slowly undid the buttons on his shirt with one hand, making sure to cradle him in the other. Gradually, I unveiled the soft, vulnerable body beneath the cloth, bit by bit, so that I could know him even better. His cream-colored chest ebbed and flowed as his lungs sought breath, yet the only source of it was filtered through my angelic coat. It made him change his tune quite quickly as his desires came over him, bringing him to nip at my breasts. When he took a nipple into his mouth, I sighed in happiness, as if I were already married to this fellow student.
My nethers still felt warm. In fact, so did his. But this time, I wanted to get warmer, and so I raised myself up. He looked at me with worried eyes as my breasts left him, and they stayed worried when I reached below me and made his penis stand tall. Indeed, that only made him worry about something else, and for a second, I was worried too. It was lined up perfectly with my needy, virgin cunt, just barely millimetres inside. But I just kept on going, without a care in the world.
I leaned in to his ear, touching his face as I do so.
"It'll be fun. Trust me," I whispered.
In that moment, he was conflicted. He looked away, as if contemplating - but it's not like he had a choice, really. I smile, and plunged down.
The pain was far more than I goddamn bargained for. My face instantly contorted into the opposite of joy, one of searing agony. Perhaps I should've taken that Zoroark's advice after all and broken it prematurely... N-no. This way, I had someone to fall on. The lucky Eevee to take my virginity faced the full brunt of my suffering, receiving a deathly-tight embrace, with my claws just barely refraining from tearing the shirt on his back into tatters. My breath was a frantic shudder, yet I didn't want to stop going. I knew that the pain would subside. I waited without moving off of my precious little mate; my walls would accommodate him as I took my break, too busy bleeding out to continue.
The scent of iron didn't seem to register to him, or perhaps it didn't vex him, yet my anguish was apparent enough. Dark amber eyes looked up to mine, as if to ask me a hundred questions at once. My voice would not work, but I could still answer them.
Gritting my teeth, I lifted my hips, sucking down the pain as my torn hymen scraped across his member. There was a tingling there, I could feel it, and I gladly fought through the hurt to siphon out more of that sensation. I dove upon him again, drawing out a surprised yip as I hilted him above the knot. My lips curled up once more as I felt him twitch, release his precum into me. Then I fucked him again, and again - there wasn't pain anymore, I told him. I was alright, I told him. I lifted my hips again, and there was still more bliss than before.
Our coupling was admittedly short, yet it was as sweet as could be. My hands pushed against his warm chest fur for support, and his own came to rest upon my thighs as I became ravaged by his youthful cock. Our genitals were awash in each other's juices, some of it running down our thighs. His eyes blankly stared at mine as I rode him wildly, whereas my own loved watching his adorable face fall deeper into the depths of ecstasy. Gradually, I saw his maw open a little wider, his head swim aimlessly before refocusing... Oh, the best part of pushing him to climax was how he would buck into me, his knot begging to push in, followed by a hard spray of natural lubricant when it didn't. We were going crazy on school property, and we both knew we were loving it. But eventually, we'd get tired - and finish.
His head, loosely bobbing back and forth until now, spontaneously flung backwards, and his mouth tried its best not to let out an orgasmic yell. The result was the happiest, cutest whine I have ever heard, and I felt something amazing forcefully bulge past my lower lips. I froze up as I realized that my little Eevee had finally knotted me, and I stayed still, wide-eyed, as I felt hot, heavy ropes of cum spatter somewhere deep inside my body. My voice struck somewhere between a feline yowl and a sigh as I allowed myself to finally orgasm, no longer having to hold back. My spasming walls milked him for all he had to offer, tightening around his plump knot so hard that I must have been suffocating it. By the time the main course was over, I felt like there was a heavy flood inside of me, each droplet as sticky and creamy as the last. Some of it reached so deep inside of me... We were finally satisfied...
But I knew how long a knotting could last, and the climactic high was so fleeting that it was already fading away into that post-coital haze. Holding on to his shoulders, I made a desperate effort to slide him out, and with so much of our fluids all over each other, it happened without a hitch. He gasped at the strange sensation, as did I, especially from all the heavy cum oozing out without a knot to keep it all held in. I take several seconds to stand up fully, and found myself stumble from utter exhaustion; I've been panting so much that even my mouth was dry from so much tension and exercise. I leaned against the restroom stall wall and began yanking the roll of tissue to clean myself off, tossing the used papers on the tile. Virginal blood and warm cum... Thank god I stripped ourselves down. But Eevee could hardly move, his head still resting back against the porcelain throne. His cock continued to leak thin streams of lubricant all over his belly, some of the mixed liquids on him dripping down into the bowl below. Though tempting as it was, I was still a cat - what would my tongue feel like on his sensitive, spent little member?
Instead, I opted to use it for something else. Stepping over him one last time, I leaned in close to his face, holding his head up ever so slightly. He let out a groggy moan, but was silenced as I submerged him in a deep kiss. My tongue crashed into his, overpowering it with ease, letting me swirl the smooth underside of my appendage around inside his fuzzy little cheeks. He submitted to me with a small, quiet whimper, letting me abuse his face as much as I liked without a fight. Eventually, I break off, just as breathy and dazed as he is, satisfied that I had left my mark on almost every inch of his body.
...
In the end, I silently decided that we'd simply share the space. We'd already shared each other, anyways, so what's wrong with a bit more companionship? Fully discarding the shirt that had been decorating me and hooking it on the back of the stall's door, I lean back on a stall divider, one foot upon it, the other grounded, and finally relax, simultaneously letting off almost literal steam and giving this boy a much calmer look at an exotic female's body. But alas, with a dry tongue, a cat can't cool down as quickly, and I have to stay with little Eevee longer than expected.
At this point, I ended up nonchalantly asking him for a name - but he didn't respond. He did quickly begin cleaning himself up, however, and I watched intently as he handled his tool solo. His number, perhaps, I could extract after retrieving his smartphone from underneath another stall, but he wouldn't unlock it for me after I picked it up for him. Perhaps I had embarrassed him too much with my aggressiveness. All I found out was a possible birth year that I've stuck to confidently, as his backpack was on the floor near him, with a little number emblem stitched on it, in the same font seen on the backs of sports players. It was the perfect date for his birthyear; how could it not have been? But by that point, he was already done wiping himself off, and I came to realize that he didn't exactly want to open up to his rapist, I was content - it was a very extraordinary situation, after all.
He buttoned himself back up, then hefted up his bag to leave, head hanging low like he didn't want to see my face. Some boys are always clammed up like that, really. But if you give them a good shove, you can get them to do anything.
Before he escaped, though, I stopped him with a clawed hand to ask him one more thing.
"Same time tomorrow, hun?"
His blush was instantaneous. I giggled at myself for asking that - what am I, an adult? He dashed away into the halls, now bustling with activity as the lower grades began to change classes.
...If I left then, I'd get caught walking out of the boys' rooms.
Could've been worse.
To be continued.