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The Word Ch 02

Page history last edited by Sea Foam 5 years ago

    The Explorer’s engine roared as Blake (unless it was Drake) gassed out of a corner. Mouse, once again, found himself clinging to his own knees with his head between his legs in the back seat.

“I knew I should’ve taken the bus,” he moaned after a particularly hard stop.

“So you could pussy out?” Drake asked, turning around in the passenger’s seat to look behind him. “No way. And sit up, you’re gonna fuck up your face before you even get to fuck, bro.”

“Dude! Your cheeks are so red!” Blake added. “That look worked for me once though, I banged this solid 9/10 easy.”

“She was mirin’ at the gym, that’s different.”

“No it’s not, you just gotta own it. Bitches love confidence.”

“C’mon, you’re tellin’ me you think you can pick up chicks anywhere lookin’ like you just ran a marathon?”


    The boy in the back seat thankfully allowed the conversation to flow around him. He really would’ve rather been at home studying or reading or watching TV or, well, doing pretty much anything but the date he was supposed to go on. Even the thought of how this date had come about was enough to make his ears burn.


Mouse’s only hope was that he could talk his way out of the situation. The twins’ prompts would’ve lead her to think there was going to be sex so she’d be disappointed Mouse wasn’t up for anything of the sort, but she didn’t seem the type to hold him down and take what she wanted anyway. Probably. After that speech she’d given him she couldn’t, right?


The twins drove the rest of the way to the museum bickering amongst themselves, much to the relief of the person in the back seat. The SUV stopped in a loading zone out front and Mouse wondered momentarily if they’d decide not to make him go if he clung to the seat and screamed loud enough. That solution still left Kestrel waiting, however, and that would be rude. Resigning himself to his fate Mouse moved to get out of the car before Drake-Unless-It-Was-Blake stopped him.

“Ballsack, wait up. You’re gonna want this.” He presented a folded piece of paper the boy cautiously took it.

“What’s this?”

“The best advice we can give without being there, bro. No, don’t open it yet.”

“How am I supposed to know when to look at it, then?”

“Simple, Grasshoper” Blake said in his worst wise old man voice, “when you find yourself asking which path you should take next, unfold the sheet and our knowledge will guide you. Now get the fuck outta my car and don’t came back until your dick is wet.”


Mouse stumbled away from the curb and watched the SUV shrink in the distance. Alright, he could handle this. He was just going to walk right up to Kestrel and say… what?


Pushing back the urge to turn tail and run one last time the boy milled toward the entrance on the far side of the wide lawn with the rest of the museum’s visitors.

“Over here!” A familiar voice called.


    Mouse turned to see Kestrel waving at him from a table in  the museum’s cafe. It was a pretty small affair, but even though it only looked out over the the front lawn the establishment had been set up to give an authentic vaguely European feel. It even came complete with a thigh high iron railing completely unsuited for keeping anything in or out, but pleasant to look at nonetheless. There wasn’t, Mouse noticed, a gate anywhere in it. Where was he supposed to go in? Kestrel was right there, there couldn’t have been an entrance that far away, but he didn’t see it. Well, it wasn’t like he was going anywhere he shouldn’t be, so after glancing around he slowly clambered over the rail.

“Glad you could make it.” He ignored the hint of a giggle in her voice as Kestrel gestured to the seat in front of her. “Why’d you climb in though?”

“I didn’t see a gate or anything, so…”

“That’s because you’re supposed to go through the front door. You pay for entrance, then come out here.”


“Yeah, but—”

“I’m sorry! Don’t call the guards!”

“It’s just one adm—”

“I’m too small to go to prison! My brother says they do really bad stuff there, like—I can’t even remember! ”


“Oh man, I’ll never get into another school and then I’ll be poor forever and—”“MOUSE!” That one word, yelled at the top of Kestrel’s lungs finally managed to throw a wrench into Mouse’s panic. “It’s alright, we’ll pay for your ticket later, no one’s going to arrest you for that. Now sit down, people are staring.” Meekly, Mouse obeyed. “Honestly, losing your cool every time something untoward happens is going to get you in trouble one day.”


    Mouse had nothing to say to that and sat, head drooped with his hands out of sight while he wrung them. The problem was that his overreactions had gotten him into trouble before. He just couldn’t stop. The world could be a scary place, after all; all the more so if one was a coward.


Kestrel then tired of the boy’s self-flagellation and waved to a waiter.

“Hey there,” he smiled. “Can I get something else started for you?”

Kestrel and the server looked expectantly at Mouse, who slowly lifted his head.

“Um, actually, I wasn’t planning on—”

“C’mon, it’s my treat and it’ll make you feel better. Let’s see, is a coffee alright?”

Mouse protested. “No, I meant I don’t want to s—”

“I know!” Kestrel said with a snap of her fingers, “how about a mocha?”

The server nodded. “Sure, I’ll have it right out.”


Mouse groaned inwardly as the man left, but managed to force a smile. Now he’d have to stay until he at least finished the drink ordered for him. Kestrel looked so happy he was going to have an even harder time turning her down. This entire thing made him feel uncomfortable and to top it all off he also felt underdressed; his “date” was in a white blouse with ruffles around the buttons that fit her far better than anything straight off the rack could have, a bright red pencil skirt ending at the knee and a pair of black heels that made her three inches taller than he was. The twins had just barely managed to shove him into a polo shirt and a pair of good jeans.


    Seemingly oblivious to Mouse’s examination, Kestrel chattered on.

“I’m glad you managed to make it out on such short notice, one of the exhibits is ending today.”

“I don’t do much on the weekends.”

“That’s no good, a boy your age shouldn’t be sitting at home all the time.”

“I... study a lot.”

“Well, that’s important too…” Of course it was. No one ever had anything to say about Mouse staying home and studying. Well, except for the twins and a few mons—parahumans with their eye on him. Something about what Kestrel said didn’t sit quite right, though.

“How old did you say you were?”

“I didn’t.” Suddenly there was a disturbingly plastered-on feel to Kestrel’s smile. It was decidedly unpleasant.

“Ahaha, right.” Her wooden expression didn’t move. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked! Just forget I said anything!”

“Just kidding,” Kestrel giggled, letting her face relax into it’s usual cheerful form, “I’m twenty four.”

Mouse quickly did the math. “Six years, huh?”

“Don’t say it like that, you’ll make me feel old.”

“That’s not what I meant! You’re pretty so it doesn’t show at all!”

“Ah, so you’re the type that turns on the charm when you’re in a corner?”

“That’s not what meant! I mean it’s true, but—”

“Relax, I was only playing with you a little. Your reactions are too cute.”

The thought that he seemed to have a “please tease me” sign on his back was a little depressing, but Kestrel hadn’t meant anything by it, so the boy sighed and let it go.


    The conversation went on. Mouse developed a feeling that he was being lead by the nose, but somehow when Kestrel did it the feeling wasn’t a bad one. Perhaps because of that it took the boy several minutes to realize that he’d been dragged into a conversation not leading anywhere near what he needed to say. Mouse wasn’t the most social creature on the planet, but even he realized that the longer this went on the harder it would be to cut the date short. He made a snap decision to make his intentions clear before he’d gotten his drink.

“So then when he came back—”

“Um, listen,” Mouse interrupted, “about today.”


“I kinda… pushed into… whiteboard… high fives…” the boy struggled to put what happened into words, but his explanation trailed off into a mumble Mouse himself couldn’t make anything out of.

Kestrel nodded knowingly anyway. “So what you’re trying to say is you don’t want to ‘f—um, do me in, in the, uh, ass?’”  To Mouse’s horror there came a clink from his side as the waiter set down his mocha. He’d heard that?! “Oh, can I have a refill? And the check?” Kestrel casually asked the man before he walked away.

“Sure, I’ll be right back.” He winked at Mouse before leaving.


The boy suddenly found himself wondering if it would be possible to drown himself in something the size of a cup. Any of Mouse’s thoughts on changing the situation had been blown away so it was lucky for him Kestrel continued heedless of the man that now thought Mouse wanted to stick it in her ass.

“I could tell this wasn’t your idea.”

“Huh?” It was the best Mouse could manage as the gears in his brain strained back into motion.

“I haven’t known you long, but this didn’t feel like something you’d normally do.”

“I don’t seem like I’d ask someone out on a date?”

“You didn’t ask me on a date, remember? You skipped right over that part. I had to ask you, and that’s just it; you were far too to the point.”


“If I had to say, it was probably the ass fucking that really gave it away. Oh, thank you.” Kestrel nodded at the man refilling her coffee before turning her attention back to Mouse. The waiter gave him a covert thumbs up before walking away. “Your roommates driving in circles just confirmed it.”

“They’re doing what?!”

“Driving in circles. They’ve been around four times already. You didn’t know? I would’ve thought they’d be all over giving you advice.”

“No,” Mouse shook his head and dug into his pocket for the sheet Blake left him with. “All they gave me was this. I’m not supposed to open it until I was wondering where to go, but I’m kinda curious.”

“Open it, then.”

“Yeah, why not?” It wasn’t like he knew what path to take from there anyway.


    Without any ceremony Mouse ripped open the envelope, unfolded the sheet inside and spread it on the table. It was a print-out of a map with little numbered Xs, on the back were corresponding numbers with prices and little notes next to them. Mouse wrinkled his nose and looked at some of them. ‘Clean sheets,’ ‘free condoms (like you’ll need em, LOL),’ ‘cute maids.’

Aloud he asked “what is this?”

“Looks like a list of pay by the hour motels in the area. They missed a few of my favorites, but they were pretty thorough about it.”

“What would I do with that?”

“You don’t know?” Her tone was benign, but the question still made Mouse feel stupid. Not that he needed any help with that.


“They’re motels.”


“They charge by the hour. Good for getting in and getting out?”

“Yeah, but who would need a motel for an hour? I mean, I guess you could take a nap or something, but…”

Kestrel sighed. “Put it this way: if you wanted to do some anal in solitude on the cheap these would be the places to go.”


    Mouse’s mouth gaped open as his eyes darted back and forth from the map to Kestrel’s placid face. The waiter quietly set the bill on the table, refilled Kestrel’s cup again and left, but not before a congratulatory pat on Mouse’s shoulder. What was with this guy’s timing?! Struggling to suppress a scream doing its damndest to claw out of his throat, Mouse reached for the map, slowly shredded it to pieces and tossed it over the railing.


“Ah, what?!” Mouse demanded, trying and failing to keep the strain from his voice.”

“You just littered.”

“GYAH!” With a roar befitting a rodent the boy sprung over the railing, picked up all the pieces of paper he could find then climbed back to take his seat and drop the scraps into his cup. People were staring again. Mouse lowered his head to the table, huffing. “I quit,” he mumbled.

“Too much? Sorry,” Kestrel said as she pulled her chair around next to the depressed pile of man, “don’t go quitting on yourself. Someone that’s come as far you to learn here can’t let the city beat him down that easily, right?”

“I guess…”

“Right, so buck up. Are you ready to go?”



    Satisfied that her little pep talk had done some good, Kestrel stood and rifled through her purse for her money. Before she even had her wallet open Mouse smacked down enough money to cover the drinks and a tip. The dark priest frowned.

“You don’t have to pay for that. You’re a student, it’s on me.”

“But this is a date, right?” Mouse countered. “I should be paying. I can take care of this much, right? Please?”


“And you said yourself I should at least treat you to coffee, right?”

Yeah, before she’d let him fuck her in the ass. That was hardly what needed saying at the moment and a little self-assertion was exactly what the boy needed at the moment, so instead Kestrel tucked her wallet back into her purse and smiled.

“What a gentleman!”

Ah, there it was. Kestrel could see him perking up already as she followed Mouse to the doors. She considered wrapping around his arm in that flirty gesture guaranteed to cheer most men up, but that wasn’t what this one one needed. Not right now, anyway. Instead the raconteur followed, watching.


    The museum was a strikingly modern affair of steel, marble and glass. It was shaped like a capital T with the entrance and cafe on the top part of the letter. Upon exiting and then reentering the right way Mouse walked through a zig zag of velvet rope entirely unneeded for that day’s crowds, paid for his ticket and walked through the turnstile where Kestrel waited.


    Mouse paused, turning his head every which way as the few other visitors drifted around him. This place was pretty big.

“Where do you start?”

“That depends,” Kestrel began. “There are three wings to the museum. The North and South wings are arranged chronologically. You reach more recent exhibits as you go to the north with the newest pieces only a few years old and older ones to the south. Then you’ve got travelling exhibits in the East wing on your right. A rather clever setup I think: the future before you, history at your back and the ephemeral present right at your side.”

“We’re right in the middle though, doesn’t that put history in front of us and behind us?”

“As always. Anyway, future or past?”

“I guess…” Seemingly in a daze, with Kestrel trailing at his side, the boy turned and wandered south. All the way south.

Kestrel mused as she followed. “Well, this is interesting.”

“What is?” Mouse asked, eyes fixed on the far wall.

“You’re going all the way to the end. I would’ve expected you to start at the nearest edge and wander back, but you’re not just walking through.”

“Well, you’re supposed to start things from the beginning, right?”

“Mmm, there’s that. Still, why this beginning?”

“Huh? There’s only one beginning.”

“There are two, like a piece of string. There’s the far end long long ago and the near end we ever ride, lengthening second by second. It makes just as much sense to look down the rope from either end but both ways provide different perspectives.”

“So what does it mean?”“Mmm… I don’t know yet.”


    It seemed to Mouse that she was just overthinking things, but it wasn’t like she was hurting anything. While she thought on that there was plenty to look at anyway. Namely, skeletons. In a normal natural history museum there would be cave paintings and stone tools and whatnot, but here there were just monster skeletons and pieces of bone cracked open by powerful jaws.


    Some distance from the back wall a thick black line was painted. It ran from the ceiling, along both walls and across the floor, flanked on either side by a gap in the exhibits against the walls. Straddling the line in the center of the floor was a prone skeleton bathed in spotlights. The skull, detached from the neck and laying on the dais, was oddly human aside from the massive size. The rest had been mangled. Part of the feline body was scorched and the bat-like wings splayed out to the sides had both been pulverized by something heavy. A number of throwing knives and arrows occupied a case before the display, but Mouse walked past it, drawn to the shining plaque before the beast’s skeleton. There was a date about 500 years ago and a description reading “A manticore, the last known kill of the man that came to be known as the Traitor Pillar before the Great Transformation.”

Mouse whistled. That guy must’ve been angry.


    On the other side of that line there was a sudden jump in… everything. On one side of the line was a mock-up salamander, a big scaly reptilian looking deal, and on the other there was a humanoid figure with scaly arms and legs with iron plate and a sword. Both were labeled as salamanders, the dates only a year apart. Kestrel happily provided commentary on the battles and political state of Cokyne in those times but Mouse had a feeling he’d be seeing parallels in the other wing so he kept what he tried to memorize down to the basics.


Crossing past the entrance, Mouse found himself in the North wing. The very first exhibit was a selection of World War II era hazmat suits with a blurb about the opening of the first interworld portal.

“Wait,” Mouse began, “the entire wing is for stuff that happened after first contact? There’s one wing for sixty years worth of stuff and another for a few thousand?”

Kestrel happily chimed in. “It’s been a busy few decades, you could make an entire museum just for that. It’s a lot easier to make displays for more recent things and plenty of people are more interested in more recently relevant events as well.”

“Oh. Still, it seems kind of unbalanced.”

“But not unduly so. Look over here. This is what the first contact between Earth and another world looked like, and all they have are a few suits and pictures. They skim right over the initial failures and don’t even mention how the portal was almost sealed. That’s good for at least five more displays right there.”

“What failures?”

“Oh, they wanted to bring some of Cokyne’s residents over, see how they reacted to our world, that sort of thing. Mainly the parahumans.”


“They followed the usual procedures: suit up, avoid physical contact, check for obvious signs of disease. Unfortunately they made the mistake of quarantining all of them before they could come over.”

“What’s wrong with that? That’s what I’d do.”

“Exactly, but their procedures were for ‘the usual.’ There was nothing usual about what they found in parahumans nature though.. See, they grabbed the most apparently docile ones they could find: five holstaurs, five humans. Two males. They quarantined the humans separately from the holstaurs for the whole six weeks for… various reasons.”


‘So what’ would normally be the next question, but there were holstaurs out where Isaac lived. Though his parents warned him away from the hooved girls with their massive womanly charms Mouse had found them to be nothing but nice. Usually. The right shade of red or a few weeks without the necessary attentions and… well, at least when a holstaur raped you there was more cushioning than with a minotaur. That was about the only difference.


Mouse cringed.


“Exactly,” the raconteur nodded. “After that there was some talk about fences, sealing things with reinforced concrete and an armed guard until the end of civilization.”

“Not like that’d happen with so much money to be made though, right?”

“Of course. Still, things might have ended a lot more… crudely if not for these four.” ‘Crudely,’ as in a lot of monsters probably would’ve gotten shot or blown to bits. An unpleasant notion Kestrel seemed happy to gloss over when she indicated a picture of a dark priest standing next to an ox of a man that must’ve been her husband and a ren chong… a rin xing… a pandagirl with a scientist playfully tucked so far down under her armpit her breasts were knocking back his glasses.

“Four people to bind two worlds. The going was pretty rough for a while there until—what was I trying to say? Oh right, you really could fill a museum with exhibits just from this one event. Actually, there were a few books I could give you—”


Books? This wasn’t going anywhere good. “Hey, what’s that over there?” Mouse interrupted before Kestrel could get started down another path she seemed interested in. What he gestured to was a case with a blown up photo of a group of soldiers with a pyramid for a backdrop. One of them stood next to an anubis in front of a pyramid, feigning interest in a scroll the anubis was holding for the picture. Beneath that was an odd collection of weapons tools and artifacts that looked like someone bashed together an exhibit for ancient Egypt and one for the second World War.

“You don’t recognize the two standing up? They’re co-chiefs of the local security force.”

“I’m still kind of new.”

Kestrel smiled. “Then I take it you aren’t familiar with the imbalance of current law enforcement practices?”


If Kestrel kept talking Mouse’s ears might fall off.


The sheer number of facts was overwhelming, but Mouse still noticed something: things moved too smoothly. What took a hundred years for human races took parahumans forty. Maybe it was only because Kestrel was proudly pulling him by the nose, but Mouse found a consistent thread: there was always a member of the Church involved. From the civil rights movement of the sixties to protests on police brutality in the following decades there was always someone, usually a dark priest, to stir things up or latch onto a movement already gathering steam. Mouse made a mental note to look into that more later, but for the time being his head was spinning.

“Something wrong, Mouse?” Kestrel asked, finally taking note of his weariness.

“It’s just… a lot to take in.”

“See? I told you they crammed a lot into this space. We touched on most of it though, are you ready to leave?”

“Please. I mean—It’s not like I didn’t enjoy I just, um—”

The raconteur giggled at the boy’s slip of the tongue. “Don’t worry about it, I know I get a bit carried away when love, history or children are involved.” Mouse made note to avoid those topics if he could help it. He wasn’t sure he’d be allowed to help it. As that thought crossed his mind Kestrel smiled impishly and leaned in uncomfortably close to his face. “Is there any way I can make it up to you, I wonder?”

“It, uh, wasn’t that bad!” Mouse took a step back only for Kestrel to take one forward, maintaining that flustering distance. “Er, I still had fun, so you don’t need to apologize or anything!”

“Just kidding,” the dark priest giggled, finally straightening. “You really need to stop reacting so much Mouse, especially around girls that like to tease as much as I do. You’re just asking for it.”

“I’ve been told that before too…”

“Well, it’s no big deal. Now then, where to next?”


    Next? The date was just supposed to be a visit to the museum, wasn’t it? They’d done that already, Mouse had no idea what “next” was. As they walked to the exit he was just about to ask exactly what Kestrel meant when she wrapped herself around his arm. Aside from being entirely unexpected the gesture also pushed two unbearably soft lumps of flesh against his shoulder and filled his nose with the woman’s flirty perfume.

“T-t-touching!” The boy managed to stammer.

“What is?” Kestrel asked, her voice the very picture of innocence.

“You! Your b-chest is!”

“We need to keep up appearances, you’ll have to deal with this much.”

“Appearances? But we’re not even outside yet.”

“You didn’t notice? Don’t look, but your secret admirers followed us in a while ago.”

“Oh geeze… can we maybe just hold hands though? You’re kind of, um, making it hard to walk.”

“No, I don’t think that’ll be enough. Besides, holding your arm shouldn’t make it that much harder to walk.”


“Slouching like that is bad for your posture too, you know. Straighten up.”

“I can’t!”

“You were walking just fine earlier. Look, just push in your hips and there you go.”


    Just like that Mouse found himself being dragged off to another location mostly against his will. He didn’t have to deal with the twins driving this time and Kestrel seemed to know right where she was going so the trip was short, but it was impossible even for Mouse not to notice the leers his pitched tent caused. It was an awkward trip for many reasons.


    The raconteur finally slowed as she brought the two of them to the door of a tall concrete and marble building.

“Where are we?” Mouse asked as Kestrel lead him through a revolving door into a wide lobby.

“The LeGrande Suites. It’s not usually hourly so your friends didn’t list it, but it’s a favorite of mine. Have you ever been?”

“Miss Kestrel!” Before the boy could answer the concierge, an older gentleman in a three piece suit, called out to his companion by name.

Finally letting go of the poor boy’s arm the raconteur smiled and leaned against the counter. “Marcus. Hard at work again, I see.”

“As ever. And good afternoon to you as well, young man.”

The most Mouse could manage in response was a timid “Uh, hi.”

“Well then, enough with the pleasantries, I mustn’t disturb your date. Will the usual service do?”

“It should.”

“Good,” he said, producing a key card and handing it to the dark priest, “room 812.”

Kestel accepted it. “Sounds good. Oh, and we seem to have attracted a new set of shadows—”

“The ones peering around that potted bush wearing those ridiculous mustache glasses?”

“Those’re the ones.”

“Not a problem.” Marcus clapped twice and an unenthused looking ogre in a black suit emerged from a back room.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“Those gentlemen behind the plant need an escort out,” he informed her.


    Neither Mouse nor Kestrel were inclined to wait and see what happened next, but the commotion of the twins being removed was more than audible.

“Hey, you know you can’t loiter here, right?”

“Who’s loiterin’? We’re customers, right Drake?”

“Yeah, were just thinkin’ about—”

“Yeah, yeah. Out ya go.”

“Hey, let go! If you’re gonna be that rough you could at least hold my hand while you’re at—owowowow! Not that hard!”“Blake, get her to toss you over her shoulder too, you gotta see this ass!”


    Soothing music filled the elevator as it lifted them to the eighth floor, but it did nothing to calm Mouse’s nerves.

“Um, Kestrel,” he whined, “remember that thing I said at the museum?”

“Which thing?”

“The part about not wanting to have s-s—”

“Oh, you mean that thing where you don’t want to shove your turgid penis into my anus?”


“Sorry, sorry. You’re worried because I brought you to a hotel, right?”

“Yeah, um, I think maybe you have the wrong idea.”  

“Don’t worry, I don’t. This is all for nothing if your roommates don’t at least think you did that though, so we have to check in for a few hours.”

“I should just stop wasting your time, as soon as they ask I’m screwed anyway. I’m a terrible liar.”

“Oh,” Kestrel mused as the doors opened, “I think I have a way to deal with that too.”

“How?” Mouse asked, scampering after her.

“You’ll see. Promise you’ll trust me?”

“I guess…”

“Good boy.” The boy wasn’t sure if Kestrel’s answering smile should have reassured him or made him very, very nervous.


    Upon reaching the suite Kestrel excused herself into the bathroom, leaving the boy to explore the room. All of the usual touches were there and… clean. The place didn’t feel like somewhere sleazy you’d go for a quick, uh, that. Overall it was actually pretty classy. Then there was the view. They were just high enough to get a good look at the city without feeling distanced from it. It was the kind of scene you wanted to press your face against the window to see better which is exactly what Mouse did because that was another of his niggling bad habits.

“Not a bad view, huh?” Kestrel asked, her presence announced by the opening of the bathroom door.

“Yeah,” Mouse began, half turning to face her. “What does it look... like... at...”


The word ‘night’ was reduced to nothing more than a number of voiceless lip flaps as the boy caught sight of his host. Lingerie. Black, intricately stitched lingerie that seemed to lift and present all too well the generous endowment of the girl wearing it. Even though her heels were off now and her eyes were level with his Mouse still found his gaze downward, despite trying to keep eye contact. Down, down, down, past that gorgeous cleavage, lingering just a moment on the slim tightness of her waist down to the tiny black triangle of cloth hiding Kestrel’s still clearly shaven womanhood.


Two brains warred for control of Mouse’s body. The higher brain, the one that discovered fire and lead man to crawl out of his cave demanded that Mouse look Kestrel in the eye and inform her in no uncertain terms that there would be no hanky panky today. The lower brain, the one that kept man alive for all those millions of years before that arrogant little twit upstairs stole its thunder wanted to start touching things. Well, there was always the middle ground.

“Y-y-y-you said you didn’t have the wrong i-idea!” Mouse stammered, flattening himself against the window with his eyes still glued to Kestrel’s crotch as she slowly approached, hips swaying.

“I don’t, but if you keep looking down there I’ll wonder if you changed your mind.”


    She was right, he knew. You couldn’t convince anyone you weren’t interested in sex with your gaze locked on their genitals. The problem was that he liked looking at those even though he shouldn’t. No, Isaac wanted to be a man! Men had willpower, and willpower meant control! Why, if he couldn’t even manage to meet her eyes he couldn’t call himself a man at all! He could conquer himself! He would! After one more moment of focus on that glorious lace barely covering her most secret spot Mouse gathered his conviction and, with Herculean intent, shifted his gaze upward.


He made it all the way up to her breasts before getting stuck again.


    As if sensing his abject failure of will Kestrel bent forward, lowering herself so her face filled Mouse’s field of vision. She was really cute looking up at him like that.

“Better?” She asked. Mouse managed a weak nod. “Good. Now take off your pants.”

“Kestrel, I—”


    One fast, oddly sensual step closed the distance between them and Mouse found his plea silenced by a single finger against his lips. Likewise the gears furiously spinning in his head ground to a halt as her other hand slipped around his waist, their nervous whirl brought to a full stop by the first contact of her body against his when she pulled them closer together. The effect wasn’t unlike the gaping of a hooked fish on land.

“Shh. Don’t you trust me?” No response; the boy was stuck on how soft Kestrel’s body was. “Well I guess that’s fair,” Kestrel mused as the hand she held to Mouse’s lips slipped downward to deftly undo his belt buckle. “It’s not like we’ve known each other that long.” Neither person paid much mind the crumpling sound of Mouse’s pants dropping to the floor though Kestrel did shift her hand’s attention to the buttons at the boy’s collar. “They say you’ve got to give trust to get it though. Lift your arms. There we go. You’ll give little old me a chance, won’t you?”

Mouse just barely managed to squeak out a response as his shirt fluttered to the ground. “A chance for what?”

“To help you, obviously.”


“Innuendo, Mouse,” Kestrel began as she pulled back from the window and turned, forcing the boy still in her arms to stumble back towards the bed. “You said yourself that you’re a baaaad liar, so I thought up a way you could get Tweedledee—your roommates off your case.”

“Eep!” Mouse yelped as his last step sent him sprawling back on the bed. The instinct to back away as the dark priest crawled toward him sent him kitty-corner on the bed until Kestrel pushed his shoulders down, hovering over him.

“See where I’m going with this?”


    Her face was so close. If Isaac just nodded hard enough their lips might touch and then… no! If she wasn’t going to rape him then he wasn’t going to encourage her! Right, what he needed to do was take a deep breath, calm himself, and agree. He didn’t know exactly what was going to happen here, but he had to admit Kestrel did have a good idea.


“Good. Now relax a little, okay?”

“I’ll try?”

“That’s fine.” A careless movement on Kestrel’s part pulled a loose portion of the comforter over the both of them and Mouse found himself touching a woman in sultry darkness. “Let’s see now, where would I begin? I think,” she began, taking his hand in both of hers, “I’d start by putting your ‘thing’ in my mouth.”


And so she did. With the blanket making it so hard to see the experience was one of feel and sound. Kestrel didn’t skimp on either; Kestrel’s constant slurping and groaning almost made it hard to focus on the amazing things her tongue was doing. It was a thing alive, bent on pleasuring even the thick skin of his finger, gliding, flicking and prodding every bit of the underside, all enhanced by the insane strength of the vacuum Mouse found himself trapped in. It got to the point where the places Mouse’s mind went were enough to make him squirm before Kestrel finally stopped, letting him slip out of her mouth with a wet pop.

“Delicious. All that sweating you’re doing is making you really salty,” the dark priest giggled.

“Uh, thanks?”


    Kestrel let out a contented sigh and lowered herself, pinning Mouse to the mattress. He found he wasn’t at all unhappy about it. His partner’s head was right next to his ear such that the dark priest’s breath tickled when she spoke.

“What should we do next?”


“You just ‘came’ inside my mouth, but no man would stop there. So tell me, what happens after?”

Mouse wasn’t sure if he should be pleased or disgusted that he understood what she was saying; the twins must’ve been rubbing off on him. Unfortunately he still didn’t quite see where Kestrel was leading.

“Um, I really don’t—”

“You’re a man, right? Don’t think so hard, just do it; anything short of putting it in will do. I saw you looking at me earlier, it’s okay to touch now.”


    Poor Mouse really didn’t have any idea what he was supposed to do. Hug, maybe? He tried doing so and the result was a tentative grasp wholly unsatisfying to both of them. Unsatisfying, that is, until Kestrel guided his hand to the fleshy globes of her ass. The boy’s breath caught and the shock of realizing what he was touching caused his fingers to twitch, involuntarily making him grip the pert cheek. It felt amazing. That first accidental grope lead to another then another and soon Mouse’s other hand found its way up on the other side as Kestrel wiggled into his touch. Yes, the lower brain was pleased indeed. He found himself exploring, prodding and squeezing Kestrel’s rump from every angle he could reach. The feeling of a great ass in his hands was fascinating in a primal way he’d never felt before and Kestrel’s appreciative cooing set his soul ablaze.


    Now, finally, Mouse found himself getting into the swing of things. There was more to touch, more sensation to revel in. One hand slid down, tracing Kestrel’s smooth thighs while the other moved up. There were breasts against his chest he wanted to fondle, but before that he settled on something leathery. It was round and narrow, and every time he touched it Kestrel panted into his ear. Was that her tail? It was slick now that both of them were sweating and Isaac’s hand slid upward until it reached the heart-shaped tip.

“Ah!” Kestrel moaned as soon as he took the bulb in his hand and began rubbing it.

Mouse let go like he’d been shocked. “Sorry!”

“No, that was a good moan. Just be gentle, okay?”

That was all the invitation he needed. Isaac continued rubbing that cool nub, entranced by the sounds his fake lover made and the grinding of her hips against him. The moaning in his ear rose in volume even as it dropped in pitch, dripping with… need? Instinctively the boy seemed to realize this, but need for what? Probably whatever the next part of the innuendo was.

“Why’d you stop?” Kestrel complained as he let her tail slide out of his hand.

“What do we do next?”

“You’re such a tease…”

“Did I say something? S-sorry.”

“Ugh, nevermind.”


    Kestrel threw back the blanket making Mouse squint as the light from the room struck him. At the same time he also noticed the sensual scent of musk and perfume filling his nose due solely to its absence now that it was free of the confines of the blanket and could waft throughout the room. The dark priest’s movements as she lifted herself and turned lacked her usual coordination and she panted heavily as she made them. Weird. Even weirder, where her crotch left his body there was a trail of something sticky left behind. Mouse made to wipe it off and couldn’t help noticing how sticky it was on his hand.

“What’s this?” He asked, playing with the stringy liquid.

“That’s just… girl sweat.”

“I never sweat like this.”

“I think you are right now.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t worry about it, alright?”



Mouse was about to ask if she was mad before Kestrel dropped to all fours and lowered her panties until only the thinnest strip held in place by two fingers covered her womanhood. All thought stopped but Mouse still managed to gulp.

“Time for the main event,” the raconteur smirked over her shoulder. “I promised I’d let you stick it in my ass, right?”

“S-s-stick what?”



    The boy licked his lips, struggling to deal with his suddenly dry mouth. He understood this one. All he had to do was put ‘it’ in her butt. Not actually inside anything, but between the cheeks would still count if wanted to say he put it in, right? All he had to do was reach out and slowly…


    Kestrel’s skin was slick against his as the boy slid his finger from the base of her tail. It was a desperate struggle to keep his upper brain in control of his lower brain when he passed a squishier area than the rest that twitched under his touch. To his credit the boy didn’t stop until he’d reached those fingers covering where the other—well, one of the other—’it’ was supposed to go, but as soon as he did he sprung back.

“I did it!”

Kestrel straightened her panties before turning to beam at him. “Congrats. I guess you can call yourself a ‘man’ now too, huh?”

“Don’t joke about that. We’re done now though, right? I-I think that’s enough.”


    It was a struggle for Kestrel to keep from rolling her eyes. Not many men could say that with a willing woman in their bed and a hard cock in their pants. This kid was like a beast chewing through the bars of its cage but refusing to run out. Well, that could be changed soon enough. For now though, a few more cutesy finishing touches.

“Not yet. Hold still.”

Mouse started when Kestrel once again pulled her face close to his, but surprise turned to confusion when she began to rub her nose against his.


“We’re kissing. The way the Eskimos do it.”

“It feels funny.”

“You don’t like it?”

“That’s not what I meant! It’s just I’m not used to it and—”

Kestrel giggled as she finally moved away. “You have to stop doing that.”


“That too.”


    Before Mouse could protest or apologize farther Kestrel whipped the blanket over them both once again and wiggled until Mouse’s head was between her breasts with her arms wrapped around her neck.

“What now?” He whined, face to face with his insurmountable foe.

“It’d be a shame if we went through all this and you couldn’t say we slept together when someone asked, wouldn’t it?”

“I can’t sleep like this!”

“Try. Don’t worry, I’ll wake you up when it’s time to go.”




His face was in a pair of breasts and his nose was pressed against his ‘lover’s’ chest such that he couldn’t help but take deep whiffs of her perfume and the dirty scent their bodies had made. Mouse swore he’d never be able to calm his beating heart, but the beating of Kestrel’s own and the steady tempo of her breathing served to do the impossible and he soon found his eyelids drooping. Uncouth as it may have been, being wrapped in the cocoon formed by the blankets, Kestrel’s body and that scent was really comfortable, he wished he could replicate this at home. Well maybe...

“Kestrel?” Mouse asked, pouring the last of his energy into staying awake.

“Hmm?” Kestrel’s response came back as sleepy as Mouse’s question.

“What’s that perfume you’re wearing?”

“Tulipe Esthétique’s Number Seventeen. Why?”

“No reason. Goodnight.”




Isaac startled awake. Waking up to an unfamiliar ceiling was one thing, waking up to a barely dressed woman in your bed was another thing entirely and not something he was at all used to. Panic built in his tiny little body until kestrel began stroking his hair.

“Is it time to go?” Mouse asked, wresting himself from Kestrel’s playful grasp.

“Did you want to cuddle longer?”

“Let’s go.”

“Mmm, alright, alright.” Mouse stood to collect his clothes from wherever Kestrel had thrown them while she lingered on the bed to stretch. Her arms went up and her back arched presenting a sultry profile view. Had Mouse not only seen it out of the corner of his eye he would’ve stopped dead in his tracks. As it was it took him four swipes to pick up his socks.


    Once they were both dressed in their wrinkly clothes Kestrel led them out and back to her car. They chattered on safe topics for the return trip, finally diffusing the sexual tension between them for that earlier part of the date. It was nice, Mouse had fun. He’d had fun before too, much as he hated to admit it, but this was a different kind, a wholesome kind.


    Again Kestrel waited in the car while Mouse opened her door. She kept her usual placid smile on her lips until the door clicked shut, at which point she slumped against the wheel. That was exhausting. She’d forgotten what it was like to hold back that much; the guy even OD’d her in the hotel room, and completely by accident! It had to be impossible for anyone to be that naive or that dense, but Mouse managed to be both. She was certain he’d be worth it once this was all over though. The naive ones always were.


    Right about now, she knew, Mouse would be performing a cute little victory dance thinking he’d actually managed to get through the entire date without getting raped. How little he knew. His body was still mostly pure true sure enough, but something fundamental had been damaged, defiled, violated. Like taking a chisel to the face of a fine marble statue the first blow did little more than send a maze of cracks out through the flawless surface, maybe not even noticeable ones. The next strike did a little more, then a little more, and more and more until the entire piece fractured and fell to bits. Slowly. That, however, would take time. In the meantime Kestrel had a date with her favorite dildo. That was sure not to leave her on edge. Where had she put that thing again?


    Mouse had no time to realize what had truly happened; as soon as he finished his self-congratulatory jig he found himself rushing from one disaster to another. The twins were home. They’d brought pizza.

“Izzaaaaaay!” Drake unless it was Blake exclaimed as he rushed over, half-eaten slice of pizza still in his hand. “I knew you could do it, bro!”

“C’mere, tell us about it!” Blake unless it was Drake said, gesturing to an empty setting.

Drake pushed Isaac to the spot and slapped a piece of cheese pizza on his plate. “Uh, thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. How was she, man?”

It was time to play coy, Mouse resolved to try his hardest.“We had fun. We went to the museum and then—”

“We saw all that, how’d she fuck?” Okay then, no need to play dumb on that note.

“G-good, I guess? I don’t have anything to compare to…”

Blake nodded sagely, or at least as sagely as a man with a beer in his hand and a slice of greasy pizza on his plate could. “True. What’d you do, then?”

“Um, we slept together.”

“Details, Mousy.”

“She, uh, put my thing in her mouth and it was hot and wet and it felt good!”

The twins high-fived. “Nice! Gotta start shit off with a blowjob. Was she any good?”

“I don’t know, but it looked like she was having fun.” Isaac couldn’t make sense of the look the twins exchanged, but he was sure he didn’t like it so he continued before they had a chance to say anything else. “Then I just kinda touched her for a while then she turned her back to me and we kinda, um…”

“Dude. You fucked her in the ass your first time?”

“I put it in her butt.”

“Izzy, yo’re a beast!” Blake exclaimed. “Shit man, you started late but you’re a goddamn natural!”

Drake agreed. “Hell yeah! Bro, you should call her back, you could do this every week—”

“Thanks for the food!” Mouse interrupted. “I’m really tired so I’m going to lay down now!” And with that he disappeared into his room, leaving the twins to kill off the rest of the pie.


Drake noisily smacked on a slice as he mused aloud. “Hey, is it me or did Ballsack get ballsier?”

“Totally. Everybody does that after their first time though, it’s part of bein’ a man. Hey, remember how much of a little bitch you were before you got laid, bro?”

“Fuck off.”

He smirked. “Hurts ‘cause it’s true, huh? Hey, think I can shotgun this?”


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