| I leaned back against him. My heart was fluttering nervously, I couldn’t help. It had nothing to do with sitting in a guy’s room, curled up against him, or at least not much. I tried to swallow, my mouth was so dry. “I … I’ve never told anyone,” I whispered.
I could feel my tail twitching nervously, and gathered it up in my hands, hoping that maybe keeping my hands busy would calm my nervousness a little. “I was twelve,” I whispered, rubbing the fur on my tail, feeling my tail and my fingers all trembling, and hating myself for it. “My parents both worked during the day, so I just walked two blocks from the bus stop and locked up the house.” I squeezed my eyes shut. Suddenly, it all felt like a bad idea, tell him, even after all he had done for me. Could I trust him? Would he accept my weakness, my failures, or would he turn away in scorn? His hands rubbed my shoulders, massaging and smoothing my fur. “They were waiting for me.” My voice cracked, and I flinched. Maybe he did too, I couldn’t tell. “Ryan lived down the street from me. He … he had asked me out, once or twice, but my parents said I wasn’t old enough to date yet. I told him that, but he didn’t believe me.” I tried swallowing again. My mouth was so dry, it felt like I was trying to swallow glass. I didn’t want to open my eyes, if I did, tears would come pouring out, enough to flood the room, I felt. Hadn’t I cried enough? Would I ever be able to stop crying? “When I was opening the door, he came up. Ryan had been waiting there with some of his friends. I tried to shut the door, but they pushed it open. I tried to scream, but one of them shoved something in my mouth.” I shivered, my whole body now, and I couldn’t stop. The tears had already started to come. His hands stroked my arms, trying to calm me down, but it didn’t help, it couldn’t help. I tried to speak again, but I could only sob. I felt like a helpless child, sitting and crying while someone else tried to help me and couldn’t do anything. He said something, but I didn’t hear it at first through my crying. He handed me a Kleenex, and I tried to wipe the tears from my eyes and whiskers. “Do you want them killed?” His voice was flat, cold, angry. It took me a moment to realize that he was angry for me, angry at what they had done for me. Horrified, I shook my head. “You can’t, you can’t be sent to jail.” He slowly wrapped his arms around me, holding me as I cried, feeling his face against the fur on my back. He was crying too, tears of sadness and fury. I don’t know how long I cried, my hands shaking against his arms, my tail twitching back and forth across his floor. When I finally stopped, I just sat there for several moments until I tried to wipe the tears away and clean my face. About then, I realized something else. I was curled up against a man with an erection. I mewled, half in fear, half in shock, and jumped up, stumbling away from him, towards the door. “What’s wrong? What is it, Michelle?” Bafflement was etched across his face as he tried to stand up. I could barely do more than point. “You, you …” I almost dissolved into tears again. “Were you going to do that to me?” I finally choked out. His face changed to outrage and shame. “I’ve spent the last hour curled up with a beautiful girl I respect and like. I can’t help it if I get horny from that. But if you think I would ever do anything so, so …” He trailed off, unable to summon the words. I sank to my knees. It was all just too much for me to try and deal with in one day. The world seemed curiously far away, and I wondered if I was going to faint. He got up from the bed, and helped me crawl into the bathroom. I clutched at the sides of the toilet, hating it even as I half-hoped that retching would clear away some of my pain. He got a washrag from somewhere, wetting it with warm water and holding my face gently as he cleaned off my face. I just lay there, feeling completely worn out, emptied emotionally. I think I sighed, maybe feeling if, even for a moment, there was someone who still trusted me and liked me. He finished wiping away the tears and the bile, and stood up, tossing the rag into the sink. I took his hands to get to my feet, still feeling shaky. “Do you feel well enough to go home?” he asked quietly. I leaned against the wall for a moment, thinking. “Sure,” I whispered. He didn’t hear me, and leaned closer. I put a hand on his shoulder for support. Then I leaned forward and kissed him. It was gentle, and a little peculiar, two unexperienced teens – one human, one furry. Nothing more than just our lips pressed against each other for a few seconds, before I drew back. “I should go home and sleep,” I whispered, a little louder. “Thank you.” With his hand on my arm, I stumbled out to his car. I think I fell asleep on the drive back to my house. |
To my surprise, she nestled up against me, practically curled up in my lap. If I hadn’t sat down with my legs spread, would she have crawled into my lap? The idea did kind of excite me, but it also puzzled me. Michelle had always been such a quiet, shy girl. And she was nervous now, I thought, if her shaking tail was any indication.
She started whispering, and her voice didn’t sound excited. It sounded scared. “I’ve never told anyone,” she whispered, staring down at her legs and her tail. “I was twelve,” she continued. I began to have an idea of what she was telling me, and my excitement vanished. A lump of lead took its place, settling in my stomach and filling me with dread. Her hands worked nervously at her tail, stroking her fur. My hands had started automatically brushing her shoulders, stroking down her fur. It had worked at the winter dance when she seemed to nervous, to be seen dating a human in front of the whole school. She stopped talking, as though trying to summon strength. I felt nervous, completely out of my depths. Who was I, to try and give her comfort and strength? Lousy little Albert, the over-looked student, the less preferred child. “Ryan lived down the street from me.” Ryan. A name. I felt a surge of hatred for this boy, whoever he was, and now I knew where he lived. Or at least where he used to. By now, he might have moved away already. I felt her swallow nervously, and did my best to comfort her, feeling woefully incompetant. “When I was opening the door, he came up. Ryan had been waiting there with some of his friends.” I listened, trying to keep my hands from shaking in anger. I knew, I had never felt this angry in my entire life. If this Ryan had appeared in front of me, I would have torn his throat out and pissed on his grave. She started shivering, her entire body shaking as she fought a losing battle with the horrors forced upon her. I did my best, holding her and trying to calm her down. In movies, of course, this would be where the main hero whispers the perfect words, soothing away hurts and making everything right. I, obviously, make a lousy hero. Words wouldn’t come, nothing I could ever say would make it better again. But apparently I said something, because she half-turned, looking at me through tear-filled, blurry eyes. My thoughts and my tongue stumbled for a moment. But I finally forced out, so carefully, “Do you want them killed?” Yes, I thought to myself, if I ever find these men, I will make sure they die. Make sure that they never touch another person again after what they’ve done. She shook her head, trying to speak through her tears, but I couldn’t hear it through my own anger and sadness. I wrapped my arms slowly around her, rubbing my cheek against her back, feeling myself start to cry as well. We sat there for a long time, crying. When she stopped, so did I. Then she suddenly jumped up, away from me, tripping over her bag as she fled towards the door. My mind was in chaos, and I tried to get my legs to stand. “What’s wrong?” “Albert,” she blurted through tears, “were you going to do that to me?” It took a moment before I realized that she was pointing as well, at my crotch. I dropped back onto the bed, my hands moving to hide my erection from her. “I can’t help it,” I said, feeling ashamed of myself. “I spend an hour curled up with the most beautiful girl I know, I can’t help it if my body responds.” I stared at my feet, at the carpet, anywhere but her, so I wouldn’t have to see that look in her eyes, that she was afraid of me. But when I looked up, she had fallen to her knees, her eyes unfocused and staring into blankness. I got up, helping her into the bathroom. I thought maybe she just needed something to drink. Telling someone about being raped in junior high was more stress than I’d ever had to deal with, I was sure. But she grabbed the edge of the toilet, throwing up from the stress. I tried to help her, and once she was done, I grabbed a cloth and started cleaning off her face. She was beautiful, and even if she didn’t believe, I wanted to help her. I cleaned off her face carefully, wiping away tears from her whiskers, straightening out her fur again. She leaned back against the wall, for a moment, the worry erased from her face. I almost kissed her. I tossed the cloth into the sink, figuring I’d wash it later. She put her hands out, and I pulled her up, supporting her on my own shaky legs. “Should I take you home now?” I asked quietly. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. I leaned forward, hoping she would answer me again. To my surprise, she put a hand on my shoulder, and leaned forward to kiss me. It was the first time I’d kissed a girl, and I think my lack of practice showed. We barely kissed, just a brush of lips, before she drew back again. “Take me home,” she whispered. As we started out the door, she whispered, “Thank you.” “For what?” I asked back, but she just smiled. |