Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft, ft/ft, Reluctant, Analingus, First, Violent, .
Desc: Fiction Sex Story: Chapters 1-2 - The class weirdo exacts revenge after being humiliated by the rich bitch. Codes are used parsimoniously.
Note: Each chapter is from the POV of the named individual.
***** Chapter 1: Greg ****
The class was standing outside the Chemistry Lab, waiting for Mr Crittall to let us in. School policy dictated that students weren’t allowed in such a potentially dangerous facility unsupervised, so science laboratories were kept locked and students had to wait outside for admittance.
I was only half paying attention to the hubbub from the milling throng, of which I was on the circumference, since I was reading ahead to find out what the next week’s lessons would be about.
“I can’t believe Brad cancelled our date on Saturday to take his brother to watch football,” came a girl’s shrill voice, piercing my consciousness.
I knew exactly how the ensuing conversation would go; first one boy would offer to be her date, then another, until all the available boys in the class had offered. It was sort of a class tradition, making the jilted party feel better about themselves. But there was also a well-defined pecking order and, being thought of as the class weirdo, I ranked below even the geeks, nerds and dorks. Without thinking, because I was half-distracted, I went first instead of last.
“I’ll go out with you.”
The moment I’d said it, I wished real life had an <undo> button. The throng went deathly silent and parted to reveal the girl who had spoken.
“Aw Greg, how romantic of you,” she said sweetly.
It was Millie Cypress, the rich bitch from Hell. Even at fifteen she was confident of her station in life and it was one where my train would never be welcome to stop. She cocked her head thoughtfully, disturbing not a single strand of the cropped, blonde hair framing her pretty, round face.
“You could take me out to dinner, then we could go and watch a movie while holding hands,” she continued.
For one bittersweet, hopeful moment, I had the optimism to think she might be sincere.
“Then we could go back to my place. I’d show you my bedroom and let you talk me out of my panties then we’d make sweet, passionate love. And you’d get me knocked up so we’d have to get married then you’d ruin my body with another ten kids AND THEY’D ALL BE FUCKING LOSERS JUST LIKE YOU!”
My face burned so hot it was a wonder the fire alarm didn’t go off. As I fled to the safety of the restrooms, she shouted after me, “AND WHAT’S WITH THE STUPID COLLAR AND NAME TAG? ARE YOU SO DUMB YOU FORGET YOUR NAME?”
By the time my face had returned to something like normal I was late for the start of the lesson and Mr Crittall gave me a demerit.
***** Chapter 2: Greg ****
Revenge is a dish best served cold.
I bided my time, learning about Millie’s routine and her home. From careful observation I discovered that Millie’s family had stabling and a paddock on their property. Millie had her own pony which she’d exercise in the paddock after lunch each day she wasn’t at school or at social events, but the latter were easy to avoid because she publicised them in advance on TwitFace.
From the safety of a clump of thick shrubs, I watched Millie put her pony through its paces. I had to admit she was a competent rider, although she could have done with a sports bra under her thin white t-shirt as her tits bounced excitedly up and down as she cantered.
Afterwards I watched Millie lead the pony from the paddock back to its stable. I knew she’d take several minutes to put the tack away then give her pony a brush down. I waited until she came out again, normally a precursor to topping up the pony’s hay and water. I stripped off all my clothes and my shoes, placed them in the large plastic bag I’d brought with me and hid the plastic bag in the bushes. Lastly I folded my metal name tag underneath my collar so it wouldn’t be susceptible to casual observation.
After the change, I loped at a steady pace towards the large shed where bales of hay were stored. The door was open and I carefully peered in, trying not to startle anyone. Millie was standing there, leaning back against a stack of hay bales, her jeans and panties round her slightly-bent knees, jilling herself. She was so focused on what she was doing that she failed to notice me. Her rubbing increased to a frenzy until finally she came with a quiet mew.
I entered the shed and padded towards Millie. Finally she noticed me.
“Hello there,” she said. “You’re a handsome looking boy. I hope you don’t bite. What’s your name?”
Both women and children were suckers for my big brown eyes and Millie qualified on both counts. I had to resist the urge to grin: baring my teeth had a different meaning in my current form. I reached my target and stuck my snout in Millie’s crotch. She smelt good, she smelt fertile.
“No,” said Millie. “Naughty boy, you mustn’t do that.”
She tried to push me away until I stuck out my tongue and licked her pussy. She tasted nice too. But then I loved to lick anything salty while in this form.
“Wow, someone’s got you well trained.”
I licked again, longer and harder. Millie stopped trying to push me away, instead gently stroking the golden fur on my head. Fortunately she didn’t recognise my collar and she couldn’t see my name tag.
I couldn’t furl my broad tongue to pierce Millie’s cunt but as I continued lapping, her nether lips reddened and swelled and blossomed open, allowing me some limited contact. I gave long swipes with the flat of my tongue, swiping up Millie’s juices, before ending up at Millie’s clit but avoiding her crinkly, black public hair. Pretty soon Millie was actively thrusting her hips back to meet me. As my tongue made progressively firmer contact with Millie’s clit, her breathing became faster and shallower. Then, with a loud squeal, she came hard.
Millie’s trembling legs gave way and she sank down on all fours. With my hard, red cock out of its sheath I mounted her, sinking my paws into the back of her t-shirt.
“No,” Millie mumbled, still not fully compos mentis after her orgasm.
I lined up my cock and pushed. It encountered resistance; Millie was still a virgin! I pushed harder and my cock burst through the thin membrane into Millie’s silky, hot, tight cunt.
“Ugh,” grunted Millie, and she wriggled as if to try to throw me off but her knees were tightly constrained by her jeans and panties and I was able to cling on. I thrust hard and the whole length of my cock sank into Millie’s cunt. A succession of rapid little humps brought me to the brink of cumming and my knot swelled, locking us together. Then I came, filling Millie’s cunt with cum, far more than the teaspoonful my other form would have produced.
When my knot achieved its full expansion, Millie surprised me by squealing and cumming hard for a second time. That seemed to end all her resistance and she just knelt there, passively enduring. If anyone had caught us while we were knotted together I would have had real problems, but after about five minutes I felt my knot start to shrink. Amazingly, supporting both our weights with one arm, Millie managed to free a hand to diddle her clit. And just as my knot finally unsealed enough to allow my shrinking cock to withdraw, Millie managed another small cum.
My cock slid out and I dismounted from Millie. There were no signs of blood on the back of her t-shirt so I hadn’t punctured her with my claws. I licked my cock to clean it before it retracted into its sheath. Then I quickly scampered back to where I had left my clothes, leaving a shell-shocked Millie, still on all fours, with pink-tinged cum oozing from her cunt and trickling down her thighs.
I changed back, wiped my dirty hands and feet on a towel I had brought with me, then got dressed and left. Millie was in for one hell of a surprise when her next monthly was due.