This story contains SM, furries, unbirth, random acts of weirdness, and possibly muffins.  DERP!

The Mascot

by Sam Kitsune

Nothing is good out of the hero of the story.  But then again, the word "hero" is loosily pronounced.  He is what you called . . . a loser . . . a big loser . . . possibly the most unlucky person in this world.  In fact, "person" may also be loosily pronounced.  He is more of garbage -- garbage to the rest of the world.  An unwanted speciment of society that's needed to rid of.  He is so much of a trash that no one even bothers with knowing his name.  And please, don't ask him his name.  There are better things to do, like making fun of him more, and making successful girly programmings that attracts men young and old.  That pretty much describes our hopelsss excuse for a person.  

This isn't very descriptive about him, now is it?  What to describe about a piece a trash oftenly overlooked by billions?  To set some kind of "depth", he is a high school student.  A sophmore to be exact.  And yes, it takes place in a high school.  A typical school with cliques, and standards, and a football team, and teachers of different species; a normal high school.  But why would anyone care about such details.  The student in question can't even grabs attention, let alone answers questions.  Where's the hope?  Everywhere, but the nameless loser!

Just on the nick of time . . . in around 2:00 pm, the nameless sap walks around schoolyard, as well as the outdoors, comtemplating over the failness he faced, suffered, and sometimes, aroused.  Everyday, there are F's, and sometimes D-'s, in his tests, failed to run at least 3 feet from the starting line, and trying to make friends but always ended up getting beaten (including those much shorter than him).  Today, another misfortunate event occurs among hundreds of failed events.  

There was a group of young . . . okay, 18-year-old hot and sweaty girls all garbed in cheerleader outfits.  One can assume to be cheerleaders from high schools finishing their practices, but from another perspective, they could be aroused sluts filming an amateur pornographic movie about sexy cheerleaders soaking themselves in a mysterous clear substance.  Err . . . right.  Anyways, the group of said cheerleaders walking around, chatting their own business and such.  As them and the nameless, voiceless, hopeless man cross paths, one of them glares over him.  What could this sexy babe wants with this unlucky cretin?  Could it be that . . . he finally gets lucky for a change?  Ha ha!  Yeah right!  The random hot cheerleader looks at him in clear disgust, gloat over the ugliness of this piece of sh--trash, and was about to spit at him, but swallows the saliva and remains her composer.  As the group walks away, the poor biological waste for society was in tears, only thinking that he's this close for some good news.

Who are we kidding!  We are having a good time making fun of him!  Afterwards, some random football player, all clothed in his football clothes, padded in his football pads, and codpieced in his football codpiece, managed to unintentially (or was it intentially) bulldozed the unlucky bloke right into a randomly-placed cement wall.  The nameless hero cried hard as he dropped down from the sudden impact.  It was a good thing there wasn't any blood on the wall . . . oh wait!  There is a large splatter-shaped blood on it, as well as blood all over his face, making him look like a tomato.  

He ran away from the horrible site, crying along the way like a police car with the siren on.  He runs pretty far from how long he can endure all of that running.  However by, let's say, 10 feet, the unlucky guy stops and catches his breath.  The rubbish resumes his run, only to be halted by another exhaustion 10 feet more.  It continued on for some time; at least half an hour.  Then the moving pile of waste stops at what appears to be the boy's locker room.  Lines of lockers standing still like british guards.  There are wooden benches recently waxed to a perfect gloss.  Despite sweaty and foal --  ahem, foul-smelling clothing on the floor, the floor itself is also waxed to a perfect gloss.  Too bad that the useless hero had his eyes closed, due to his own blood covering his own worthless excuse for a face.  He searches around of some relief; a sink full of water, a rag, or anything to wipe up the red stuff around his pathetic face.  Nothing!  He cried a little . . . and then a lot.  A loser is always a loser, so he thought . . . and what we always thought.  There's nothing more he can do.  Suicide should be the correct answer, except it is beyond school policy to perform it.  Suffer is all he can do.  Suffer in his own blood . . . 

Wait a minute!  Did he hears someone's voice?  It was a voice of a cute girl, but is it really real?  An ear check later, and this is what he hears from his disgusting ears.

"Here's a hankerchief, sweetie!"

The loser grabs the hankerchief from the mysterous woman with his hobbit-like hands.  He proceeds to wiping blood out of his pathetic face, as if he need to!  Once all of the nasty red stuff were off, he slowly opens his eyes and willing to see on who he could be thanking.  The vision, the ugly repulsive vision are in focused, and what he witness as . . . a bipedal fox dressed in a cheerleader's outfit?  Oh wait a minute!  He is staring at the mascot for his school.  The football team is known as the "Humping Fox"?  Why may you asked?  Once a fox grabs and humps the opponents' leg, they can't never get back up!  

Dressed in the school colors of green and white, Angel, the team's fawn-furred mascot, concerns over the "hero".

"My!  Were you a bit of a mess!  Did something terrible has happened recently?"

Indeed it did . . . as well as other misfortunes he has destined to face.  He tried to speak to this cute and cuddly mascot, only to be interrupted by her.

"You don't have to say anything.  I can tell just by the looks of you."

Angel suddenly walks closer to the pathetic excuse for a person, and finally, gives him a big ol' furry hug.  No one is watching . . . hoping that actually happens.

"There!  Are you feeling better?"

Are you kidding?!  This walking dumpster is far from better!  He realized that his life might as well be over.  And look at him, crying and crying over the unlucky events that took place.  He did smiled a little bit, despite the previous sentence.  

"I see", pondered the cute Angel, looking very yiffy in a cheerleader's outfit.  "How about I do a little cheer to make you all better?"

I do!

. . . 

. . . . Oh fuck!  I spoke out of context.  Pretend that I was never here.  *runs aways from the scene*

Reluctantly, the cute girly mascot begins to jumps in place, shaking her tail, and sometimes, do a little yiffy move on this poor bloke.  That got him interested, and maybe his spirit was lifted.  She continues to cheer to him, not actually cheering with her jaw because she's not that good singing.  Perhaps this is it, maybe he does have a purpose for living . . . maybe.  Then again, she's the only person . . . in a furry costume that does care about him.  After a while, give or take a minute, she stops.

"Any better?", Angel concerns.  "I see a smile on your face, but I tell that you want more."  Though cannot see, it appeals that she cracks a smile, a devilish smile.  "Here's something special for you!"

What so special, so he thought?  

"It's best if you kneel down, sweetie."

Sure whatever, he thought.  The whipping boy did what he was told and gets on his knees.  This is quite odd for something to be cheered about.  Without a warning, Angel winks . . . or at least gives an impression that she winks, and slowly lifts up her white cheerleader skirt.  Err, what?  Is he going to score with the school's mascot?  But he didn't know who is underneath that furry outfit!  Also without a warning, his entire head was engulfed in a white skirt and lime green ruffled underskirt of Angel.  His face was pressed hard into the soft fibers of the foxy mascot's . . . lime green panties?!  Quite unnatural for a furry to be wearing one, but not as unnatural as the heat emitting from within the cottony underwear itself.  

The loser doesn't care.  In fact, he slowly closes his eyes and dreams.  All of that soft goodness mares -- ahem, makes him dream about his mother . . . 

Then again, why?  When this loser for life was only a baby, he lost his mother . . . to his deranged father who enjoys nothing more than to see his wife suffer, wither, and perish.  Justice has been served, however, when he was arrested for commiting murder . . . only to be freed because he knows how to free himself from the handcuffs that cuffed him.  That okay considered what makes justice served was the unexpected semi-truck collision, leaving a crimson trail full of entrails, yellow globish fat, and ivory-colored bone matter.  The police had nothing to do but take a look at the infant, but most pathetic excuse for an infant.  

"Well, I think he's amused by it," said the first officier after looking at a nearly happy and laughing baby.  Then then the baby starts crying.  "I believe we need to opt off our life to a random truck appearance to make this baby happy.  Cody, you go!"

"Uhh . . . what?!" replied the nervous officier who is called "Cody".  "You can't be serious!  You're asking me to kill myself so I can help this baby!  No way, sir!"

"I didn't asked for your opinion," scolded the first officier.  "I'm ordering you!"

Both of them hears a random sound of another semi in the way.

Cody shakes his head.  "Hell no that I'm doing it!"

"You're a pussy, Cody!  Then I'll fucking do this!"

"No!  Don't!"

It is too late for the commanding officier as he clearly and expressively jump right into the semi, instantly exploded in a mess of blood, entrails, bones.  Sinisterly, the baby laughed while the nervous officier is in shocked of all of this.  But he realized now isn't the time to be surprised.  There was a baby, a poor excuse for one, and he has the responsibility to find a foster parent, whether anyone wants one.  

After a week and two days later . . . give or take a couple of months, the officier finally found a living member of the family.  Actually, this old fellow is the only member of the family for this worthless infant.  Living in a run-down ranch house, the bearded man approaches outside and meets the cop holding garbage.

"Mr. Junk?  I believe this baby is your nephew.  I'm sorry to say about the lost of this baby's parents.  Therefore, you are now considered the baby's guardian.

"wazdat?" muffles the equally disgusting uncle, named "Harry".  "ohyeahsure."  "ahtakedatkidwitme."  He quickly nabs the baby away from the officier.  "nagofuckoffalright!"

"Err, what you said?" questioned the confused officier.

"GODFUCKINDAMMITAHSEZFUCKOFF!!" angers Harry.  He takes the kid and shuts the door in front of him.  Good, considering the officier left without an argument.  

One will assume a baby this repulsive would have an equally repulsive uncle, and one will be right.  The bearded, balded person not only looks messed-up, he is really messed-up!  He's a bumbling drug addict, always have an excuse to smoke J, snorting angel dust, and injecting himself in some mysterious fluid.  Nothing much the young "hero" can do except looking curious.  He doesn't mind crawling through the fields of used hyperdermic needles on the floor.  

Unfortunately (or fortunately), the police have come to the ghetto-like house, armed and calling out the drugged uncle.  He knew that one day he will get caught using illegal substance.  In a tried and true effort, he tries to manage escaping from the back door, carrying bags full of his good stuff.  Bad mistake considering the police surrounding the whole house, and even on top thanks to the team of levitating pyschic cops.  Before anyone knew, he was apprehended, blunted, and taken away in a standard cop car.  The police retreated back to their stations, only to note something they forgot.  Or maybe not, considering the forgetful child is never worth noting for.  

The dream ended, the pathetic student's eyes slowly opened, and he soon realized something not right.  No, not right at all.  He looks around with is ugly peepers, scans the surroundings, and figures out the obviously.  Yes, something isn't right.  All he sees was a huge hanging field of lime-green ruffles.  Checking the obvious is that his entire body is binded.  His dainty arms can't be moved, and so are his lifeless legs.  He can only feel that it's soft, strangily familiar to his mind.  He tries to bend his head down, and peering he can see that the color is also lime-green.  However, he noticed something that totally realized where he is truly located.  Way down towards the abysmal of a every-flowing tunnel, he saw a concrete floor.  Just between that, he witness a pair of fawn-colored pillars sandwiched, ever moving and bending, as if they are alive.  This is really happening.  Our "hero" have gotten himself shrunk and stuck his body underneath a giant pair of lime-green panties of the school's mascot . . . in which she is wearing!

Puzzled, the worthless small fry wondered if Angel was the only who shrunk him and place him under her soft undies.  It's not good at all . . . perhaps only to him, because the disembodied voice of the cheerleading mascot sounded as if she enjoys herself.  Also, she sounded as if . . . NO!  There's a game starting, and she's really cheering for her team!  Everywhere, the skirt and underskirt bobs and shakes around, her smooth and furry legs move about, and the body of the worthless hero rumbles as if he's in an earthquake.  It's like a living, breathing rollercoaster ride, and for a good reason, if there's any!  He noticed something that is also not right.  He feel the fur of this giant cute furry.  Doesn't seem out of the ordinary, except for that he feels an actual pulse, not to mentioned it's warm.  This can't be true!  Either it is the most realistic furry costume, or . . . Angel is really an upright talking vixen!

It's not happening?!  How can the school have a mascot that really was an actually animal-human hybrid?!  Are they now accepting furries to be mascots, or is it a tradition back then?!  Confusion!

The little garbage denies it, thinking it's some trick.  All of the sudden, Angel jumps really high, raising her skirts enough for spectators to reveal the greeness of her soft underwear.  As if time runs under mollasses, he views the outside world like a camera under a fisheye lens, and light pour over him to give the illusion of being free.  Then the worst has come.  The cute mascot lands pretty hard, dropping him into darkness, a deep, warm, lime-green darkness as his entire pathetic self is engulfed into the dark recess of Angel's panties.  He lands deep into the crouch region, where the furry legs lived as well as . . . the answer to his curiosity.  Appearing to him were some massive mouth-like opening, dripping some clear substance, and pouting fire-like hot air.  It's really here, and alive!  It's the vixen's vagina!

It looks hungry, thought the small piece of biological waste.  He don't feel it's right dive into the hungry mouth of the gaping pussy of an actual furry.  Unfortunately, what choice he has?  He's trapped in the undergarment of a cute fox.  What's worse is that . . . the game started and she stopped!  Okay, so not that worse . . . until she has her alone time in the girl's restroom, adjusting her lime-green underthings.  It causes him to ever get closer the the gaping hole between her legs.  Okay, so not also worse . . . until she felt an itch around her nether region and gently pushes and scratches her panties.  Our hero has done it -- dragged unintentially right into the cavernous pit of Angel's pussy!

In setting for our "hero" is unlike any he envisioned, go figure!  It's a warm, very moist flesh-colored tunnel, with the pulsating movement of the heartbeat that's in synched with the sound of one.  Surreal doesn't begin to mention this living cave.  He feels like every movement the furry host takes, he's dragging himself deeper into the abysmal of the love tunnel.  Wishing Angel hold still, his luck is still the same as ever, meaning there's a time-off and she's needed to cheer.  Angel, looking as cute as ever, begins rallying everyone and dance about.  After a while, he heard a series of roars from within . . . only to find out that Angel is actually moaning from the unexpected orgasmic actions of the living dildo.  He's dragging deeper and deeper as if he was hog-tied and someone is dragging him closer.  Not good!  If this slippery water ride gets drags him any further, he will reached -- it's too late!  There approaching lies a sphincter of the otherworldly vagina: the cervix.

The sexy and cheerful fox couldn't bear to hold her urges any longer . . . or at least it appears that way considering the crowd are noticing something strange with their mascot.  Angel's once dry pair of lime-green panties are now moisten with the juices produced by the little nameless loser and his movement inside her genitals.  The vixen's face turned red, her jaw pouts out some cute moans and groans, and now, her furry little knees are getting loose.  She can't take it!  She has to do it, and doesn't care if it is performed in public.  Finally, Angel's face turn fully red, gets on both of her knees fully spread, and let's out a terrifying and orgasmic roar of pure pleasure, follow by some loud moans and enough pussy juices to cover the floor she's kneeling on.  Some people in the crowd were shocked, while some guys couldn't help but secretly stroking their dick with their own hand.  However, no one is more shocked than the football players Angel seem to distract.  Looks like the living anthro is attracting attention in more ways than one.

What becomes of our pathetic hero?  Unfortunately, the sexual feelings coming from the outside allows the giant opening of the cervix to -- well --- open.  The waving movements of the tunnel itself is aiding him to push inwards to it.  This is it!  What lies through is only what his imagination stands, that is if he can imagine.  The cervix pushes the loser in and tight like being squeezed through a toothpaste tube.  Suffer is all he can feel.  That and some moisture.  After five minutes of agony, he was plopped into his destination as well as his fate: the cavernous opening of wetness, fleshness, and some twitching movements.  In other words, he's inside Angel uterus.  

Now what?  He's trapped in the womb of a very horny vixen!  The hole that he entered has seal him and his fate in.  Another misfortunate event he can mark out of his list.  However, there's one of event he must suffer from within the baby maker.  He felt something on his leg that is long and slippery, something like a wet snake.  Snakes in here, well that's not possible . . . but it didn't stop on whatever it was slittering around him.  It was too late to discover on what the mysterous creature was when its "head" was filly -- ahem, fully into the trash's exposed belly button, rising him up high.  It was terrifying, but yet, nostagic for him.  Indeed, that "creature" was a living umbilical cord, looking for a host!  It's not happening!  It's the end for him, the loser for life and garbage for the entire society.  At least it makes no difference.  No difference at all . . . 

But wait a minute!  All of this never did happen.  It was a dream, just a dream produced by the baby "hero".  As it turns out, his uncle, Harry, was never arrested.  He and the infant was enjoying their time of their life, smoking and snorting all of the illegal substance his can obtain.  He was a happy bundle of joy . . . one very happy, laughing, messed-up bundle of joy!  When things went so well, our hero suddenly passed out in a series of coughs and cries.  It was later realized that he was more than passed out and stoned.  He was passed away; death caused by premature baby cardiac arrest.  

Despite the loser's sudden death, it gives toy companies an inspiration for their new produce: a smoking, laughing doll called "Stoned Stanley", complete with weed-flavored smoke.  Fun for the whole family!  Of course, this hidenous trend was cut short when the factory as well as the stores that has that toy was oblierated by something more frightening, and yet, adorable, like a highly destructive teddy bear.  It was a moving, city-sized, mechnical chibi horse!  A chibi horse dressed in pink, sports some poofy manes and tail, and blinged out with a tatoo of three balloons on one of its thighs.  The frightening cute behemont fires plasmic lasers from its pair of sinisterly adorable eyes, and its powerful hooves stomp everywhere in its way.  There's no chance of ever surviving the assault.  It only leaves a trail of chaos, broken power lines, and piles after piles of crushed bodies of thousands.  Piloting the metalic beast were two people on the top of its head: two evil people, standing in the balance of oppression and superiority.  They now have their conversation, their demonic conversation!

"Ms. Faust, we quickly eliminated our competition and anyone in our way, we completely monopolized everyone, every fan, and control everyone's mind with your pure and godly talent.  There is no one who can interfere!"

There approach a woman, dressed in evil clothing disguised as everyday clothes.  She appears and reply.

"We are still not in the clear.  There is one more that is standing from our dominance."

"You're not talking about --"

"Yes we are!  Our destination is California.  We're going to Disneyland!"

In the end, in the battlefield of whimsy and complete terror, it finally happened.  Mickey Mouse gets his cupcake made!