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A freshman in college, he decides to keep a low profile. Unfortunately for him, he catches the eye of Carla, the school bully. She takes a liking to him, and when Carla wants something, she goes and gets it.\n\nCommission for hoot12 on FA","description_bbcode_parsed":"<span style='word-wrap: break-word;'>Andrew is the shy, unassuming type. A freshman in college, he decides to keep a low profile. Unfortunately for him, he catches the eye of Carla, the school bully. She takes a liking to him, and when Carla wants something, she goes and gets it.<br /><br />Commission for hoot12 on FA</span>","writing":"Andrew had one primary goal while attending Membridge University, one that was more important than graduating, more important than meeting people, more important than creating a successful future, and more important than getting good grades. Andrew, first and foremost, had to lay low. Having graduated near the top of his class, he had demonstrated an impressive work ethic in studying and learning. None of that was evident in his stature, however. He was short, barely achieving five feet and with a frame fit for a boy several years his junior. His skin was pale and his hair was black, cut to a short, conserative length. The clothes he wore were never flashy or expensive, and he never accessorized. Andrew abhorred the spotlight. His four long years in high school made him that way. Scrawny boy that he was, he became the unfortunate target of those who liked to take advantage of the weak. Picked on for his size, extorted for his belongings, and shunned from physical activities, he came to the conclusion that attention, no matter how positive or negative, was something to avoid at all costs. That did not change in the slightest once his journey as a college student began.\n\nMembridge was his first choice. After decades of being an all-anthro, all-girls school, it had finally made the leap of accepting humans and becoming coed. The university wanted to make a big show of it by accepting as many males and humans as it could in its first year of doing so. Andrew, along with many other boys and humans, were accepted with less regard than what was normal (although nobody openly admitted that). Confident that he would fit in better than other schools, he applied and was accepted soon after. Now was his chance to turn a new leaf, to make a man of himself. He wasn’t going to be the short, scrawny human kid who got picked on and kicked around. The next four years were going to fly by without incident, no drama, no craziness. Lay low, and do your school work. That was the plan. \n\nFor the first few weeks, everything went well. His roommate, Brittany, was a beagle who hardly gave him much attention after their first handshake. She had brilliant white fur broken apart by large spots of brown and a black back. Her floppy ears fell almost to her shoulders. Her eyes were a beautiful brown. She was a physically stacked girl, touting a curvaceous body Andrew couldn’t help but catch himself staring at sometimes. Not that it mattered. She hardly seemed to notice him, spending much of her time on her phone or on her laptop whenever they were in their dorm together. Conversations between them were rare. The most interesting thing he knew about her was that she was a masseuse, but not much else. He determined that it was better that way. He shouldn’t get emotionally attached to the girls there, especially not the pretty ones who hardly gave him the time of day. He didn’t expect any of the girls at Membridge to notice him at all, and he was OK with that. It was all according to plan.\n\nThen came Carla.\n\nCarla, a jackrabbit, was a senior who wasn’t a fan of Membridge accepting humans and boys. She wasn’t racist or anything, so she insisted, but being in an environment full of nothing but fellow anthro females was something she had appreciated in her past few years of attending. She was there on a four year basketball scholarship, and had more than proved herself worthy of it. Tall not only for a girl at 6 feet, she was a supreme athlete whose physique well represented her talents on the hardwood. She was built like a miniature locomotive, having explosive thighs and glutes she liked to wear tight shorts over. Every part of her body bulged and rippled with muscle woven over by her soft, brown fur. Her ears were long and her paws were huge, fit for dribbling and dunking, the latter feat she was the only female college student capable of. At center, she led the division in rebounds and blocked shots. Her field goal percentage was among the highest and her hook shot was deadly.\n\nNone of that, however, was what her fellow players knew her for. Carla, even more than being an athlete or a basketball player, was a competitor. One of her less callous mottos was “bleed as much as you have to, so long as the opponent bleeds more.” Her trash talk was legendary among those who heard it. She made every action on the court personal. Every loss was a foundation for a grudge. Any mistake, whether hers or her teammate’s, was unforgivable. Girls on the team warned others trying out that at least half of them would leave the gym one day crying because of her. To Carla, it wasn’t goodbye, it was good riddance. If you weren’t ready to lay down even a fraction of the dedication and effort she did, then you could fuck right off. Winning was all that mattered, even if that meant a few feelings had to be hurt along the way. If you got in the way of that, God help you. Girls feared her across campus. Nobody, not even the staff or coaches, had the gumption to stand up to her. She got what she wanted when she wanted it, even if that meant taking it.\n\nAndrew, of all people, should’ve made her sick. Any other person so tiny and frail would’ve been an easy target for ridicule. She saw him for the first time while sitting with her friends at the  picnic tables out in front of one of the main halls. Carla wasn’t paying much attention to what her friends were saying. She was eying a throng of students making their way to their next class from one building to the next. So many humans, so many boys. She still wasn’t used to it, and she didn’t think she ever would be. Membridge was a sprawling campus, large for its small attendance of a few thousand. The lawns were well trimmed with the occasional chestnut tree sprouting from the earth. The campus used to be quiet with such a sparse population. Watching the lone girl carrying her books to the next class was charming. Now there were a bunch of boys to ruin that. She rested her chin on her bookbag which was on the table, between her two friends who were talking across her. She watched more people walk by, chatting amiably, joking and laughing. [i]Just one more year[/i] she reminded herself. [i]It’s no biggie. Nothing that’ll distract you too much.[/i]\n\nThen her eyes fell on Andrew. Her face scrunched into a confused scowl. [i]Who let their kid on the campus?[/i] She noticed the textbook clutched protectively to his chest, and the upright posture with which he walked. That was no kid. That was a student. He walked alone between two major groups of students. He didn’t look like he was with anybody. She noticed how delicate he looked compared to the brawny anthros around him. Even next to his fellow humans he was pretty meager. He looked like the kind of person Carla could tear in two, or at least anyone with half the amount of muscle. A simple question fell into her mind, one she didn’t expect to pursue. What’s his name? She sat up and pointed at him. “Hey, who’s that guy?”\n\nHer friends, one a gray cat named Melissa, the other a white cockatoo named Denise, looked at her, then at Andrew. “Which one?” asked Melissa.\n\nCarla pointed harder. “That one. That human, the white short one.”\n\n“I think that’s Brittany’s roommate,” Denise said. “Why?”\n\n“I don’t know,” Carla said, narrowing her eyes. “I’m just noticing him. You know his name?”\n\n“No,” said Denise. “You wanna talk to him?”\n\n“Wanna ask him on a date?” Melissa teased.\n\nThey expected an indignant rebuttal, but Carla rubbed her chin instead. Her eyes tracked Andrew as he turned a corner on the sidewalk and walked his way to the study hall just behind the girls. She stared at him the whole way, even as he came within feet of their table. He didn’t notice her, or at least pretended not to. He kept his gaze locked on the front doors until he disappeared behind them. Carla got a good look at him. He was even smaller up close. His short black hair was stark against his pasty white skin. His shirt seemed ready to slough off of his shoulders. His face was smooth and his nose was like a cute little button. She turned all the way around in her seat as she watched him enter the building. Melissa and Denise watched, perplexed.\n\n“You gonna say something to him?” Denise asked.\n\nCarla was quiet. She kept looking at the door where he had entered. She wondered what class he was going to, and where she might be able to introduce herself. Eventually she twisted back and resumed resting on her bag. “No,” she said. “Not yet.”\n\nFor the next few days, Andrew was oblivious to the fact he was being followed. Carla kept track of his classes, what his schedule was, who he talked to, and when he retired to the dorm. She kept her distance, just enough to go unnoticed. Nothing Andrew did would have warranted a stalker, which is why he was never alert to her presence. Paradoxically, it was his relatively boring routine that drew Carla in deeper. He’d become an enigma to her. What was his deal? What did he do? Were all humans this boring? She approached Brittany one day and asked about him. She didn’t get much more than a “I dunno. He doesn’t talk much. He’s cute though.” That wasn’t any help. The more she watched him the more her interest piqued. She had to admit it, he was cute. It was a shame he wasn’t expressive with it. She thought about him at night and at practice. She’d never been so distracted over a boy before. She knew he wouldn’t leave her mind until she knew everything there was to know about him. How old he was, where he was from, why he was so quiet. That was the information Carla wanted to know, and like everything else she wanted, she was going to get it.\n\nAmong Andrew’s daily habits was having a bagged lunch at the cafeteria. Naturally, he sat alone in a corner at a booth far removed from the hustle and bustle of everyone around him. He sat down, ate his lunch, and then left, usually within a span of ten minutes. It was one day when Carla took a sledgehammer to that plan by sitting next to him, seemingly unprovoked. She had packed her own lunch, not bothering to get in line with everyone else. She didn’t want to risk losing him. Bag in hand, she strutted her way to his corner, wearing navy blue short shorts and a tank top featuring Membridge’s logo. She wanted him to see how big she was, a trick she was familiar with and well equipped to implement. Andrew was just opening a tupperware holding his sandwich when he looked up to see that mountain of a rabbit plop down right next to him, blocking him into the booth. His eyes went round as he looked up at her, utterly unsure of what to do or say. As planned, his eyes fell on her muscles, then her breasts, then back up to her topaz eyes. He gulped and opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a pathetic squeak. “[i]Ahh…[/i]”\n\nCarla smiled. [i]We’re off to a good start.[/i] “Hi! I’m Carla. What’s your name?” She laid out her massive paw on the edge of the table, close to him. She noticed how limp and clammy his hand looked. She bet he masturbated frequently.\n\nAndrew licked his lips. His throat went tight and his sphincter puckered. Her broad thigh pressed against his, just the right amount of contact to elicit a buzz within him. His heart pounded and his lungs stuttered. All she had asked him was his name. He chanted in his mind, [i]Man up! New leaf! Calm down! Man up![/i] He gulped. “Andrew. Nice to meet you.”\n\nHis voice was soft, meek, and somewhat nasally. She didn’t think he’d ever screamed in his life, or was even capable of it. “Nice to meet you too!” She held her paw out to shake. He took it, only to have his hand swallowed by her giant, padded paw. His skin was just as soft and doughy as she had thought it was. “I hope you don’t mind me sitting with you.”\n\nHe retracted his hand and slid it into his lap as if to protect it. “No, I don’t mind.” That was a lie, but she hardly seemed the kind of person to leave if he had told her otherwise.\n\n“Good! I saw you sitting here all by yourself and just thought you needed some company. I don’t like it when people eat by themselves, ya know?” [i]Or keep themselves all mysterious, especially cute ones like you. I bet you’re a virgin.[/i]\n\n“Uh, yeah. Thanks. That means a lot.” Everything in his head screamed at him to tell her to go away, to say he preferred to eat alone. He was painfully aware of the people in the cafeteria staring at them. People noticed when the school superstar went to sit with the weird kid. They knew something was up, and so did he. She wasn’t doing this out of the kindness of her heart. No one ever did. She was up to something. He knew all of that, but still, he said nothing. The occasional glance at her biceps and the admittedly pleasant feel of her thigh touching him convinced him to stay quiet. “You, uh… You play basketball, right?”\n\n“I do!” [i]So, you know something about me. That means I oughta know something about you.[/i] “What do you do, Andrew? I see you around campus a lot, but not in any clubs or sports.\n\nAndrew scoffed. [i]Like I could play any sports.[/i] “Yeah, I’m not in any clubs.”\n\n“Why not?”\n\nHe shrugged. “Nothing interests me here, I guess.”\n\n“Nonsense. There’s gotta be something you like, something you like to do or learn about. Something you’re good at.” She cut a glance at his fragile physique. “Doesn’t have to be sports.”\n\nIt wasn’t lost on him why she added that last bit. He was used to such remarks, especially from cruel jocks like her. “Well, I just haven’t looked at any clubs yet.”\n\n“Well, you should. Cute boy like you shouldn’t be all on your own.” She looked away from him to unload her lunch bag, but she saw his reaction out of the corner of her eye. He went into what looked like a thousand yard stare. His eyes went wide and his back went stiff. That complexion of his, normally so chalky, went blood red. She smiled to herself, pretending not to notice. [i]God, this one’s gonna be easy.[/i]\n\n[i]Cute? Did she just call me cute?[/i] He wasn’t at all prepared for that word, no matter how innocent it was intended. He told himself that it didn’t mean anything, that it was just a passive compliment, but emotions are rarely ever so easy to convince. No girl had ever called him cute, least of all a physical specimen like Carla. He folded his hands into his lap and squeezed his thighs together as the energy buzzing through his manhood began to flutter. He cleared his throat. “Ah… Well… Thanks… I might… Um… Yeah… I might… do… that…”  He was kicking himself internally. [i]Smooth. Real smooth.[/i]\n\n“Do what?” she asked, trying her best not to smile too smugly.\n\n“Um… Join a club, I guess.”\n\n“Good!” She held out her fist for him to bump. He smiled nervously and touched knuckles. She chuckled. “What do you want to do?”\n\nHe couldn’t help but smile. Bumping fists with her was like a small victory. “Well, I know there’s an IT internship. I might apply for that.”\n\n“Then do it. Go right up there and tell them you want to apply. Don’t take no for an answer.”\n\nHis smile faltered. “Ah, well…”\n\n“Don’t think you can do all that?”\n\n“Not like that, no.”\n\n“Don’t worry.” She patted his thigh, making him jerk. “I’ll say something to somebody. People know me around here. I can put a good word for you.”\n\n“You uh… You don’t have to do that.”\n\nHer smile fell into an icy scowl. “No, I don’t, but I’m gonna,” she said sternly.\n\nHe was again made aware of how strong she looked. He nodded quickly. “OK. Thanks.”\n\nHer smile returned as quickly as it had vanished. “No problem, Andrew.” She patted his thigh and started to eat her lunch. Andrew looked ahead, resuming his thousand yard stare. [i]What just happened?[/i] He was sitting at his booth, minding his own business, when the world threw him a curveball and plopped Carla down next to him. Nothing he had done should've led to that happening, or so he thought. What made her do that? Was it really her just being nice? What should he do now? He looked at the sandwich in front of him, still neatly tucked into its container, cut diagonally, chicken salad, just like his mom used to make. He wondered what she’d say if she saw him now. What would she say? What would she tell him to do?\n\nNone of that mattered. His mom wasn’t here. There was no point in making a big deal out of it. He reminded himself: [i]Man up. New leaf.[/i] With his usual lack of fanfare or noise, he quietly picked his sandwich up and started eating, happy to have some company for once.\n\n[center]*\t*\t*[/center]\n\nTrue to his word, Andrew applied for an internship. It was surprisingly easy. He stepped into the IT department, said he would like to apply, and was given a piece of paper to fill out. He did, and got an email telling him that he had been accepted. His goal of laying low became difficult for the rest of that day thanks to the giddy grin he wore throughout. What he didn’t know was that Carla had held up her end of the bargain too. She approached the IT director, a sheep, in her office immediately after eating lunch with Andrew.\n\n“A friend of mine is gonna apply for an internship,” Carla told her flatly. “You should take him.”\n\nThe sheep, a short woman with puffed out, snow-white wool and glasses thick enough to stop a bullet, told her as gently as she could. “Sorry, but that position’s already filled.” She perked up. “I know somewhere else they can try, though!”\n\nCarla made no reaction. Her face remained stolid as she leaned over the sheep’s desk. She gripped the edge hard enough so that the tendons in her forearm bulged. She spoke slowly. “A friend of mine is gonna apply for an internship. You should take him.”\n\nThat was verbatim what she had already said, yet the sheep seemed to hear her for the first time. Heart thumping, the director nodded. “O-OK! I think we can squeeze something in for them. What’s their name?”\n\n“Andrew. He’s a human.”\n\n“OK! I’ll look out for him.”\n\nCarla didn’t thank her. She turned around and left. She met Andrew at their booth the day of his acceptance. She noticed his smile as soon as he sat down across from her. He gave her the good news. “That’s great! I’m so proud of you!” She held her paw up for a high-five which he gladly delivered. \n\n“Yeah! I gotta say, thanks for making me do that. I don’t think I was going to on my own.”\n\n[i]God, he’s precious when he smiles.[/i] “My pleasure. I hope it all works out for you.”\n\n“Me too.” Unable to stop smiling, he opened his bag and laid out his lunch.\n\nCarla watched him for several moments before she spoke. “Are you doing anything this weekend?”\n\nAndrew was in the middle tearing a spork out of its plastic when he came to a dead stop. He stared at her blankly. “Um… No. I don’t think so.”\n\n“Good. Wanna hang out? Maybe at the mall? Why don’t we go shopping together?”\n\nHe stayed where he was, utterly frozen. The half-freed spork jutted from the plastic wrap like a knife through fabric. On cue, his face flushed. “Um… Well, I don’t have any, um… I can’t… I don’t…” [i]What the hell am I supposed to say to that?[/i]\n\n“No money? Don’t worry. I can buy you some stuff.” She was already picturing him in some different outfits. Some were more bare than others. Some weren’t outfits at all. [i]I bet he has a cute butt. I would know if he didn’t wear those baggy pants.[/i] “You can just pay me back. It’s no big deal.”\n\n“O-OK… But-”\n\n“But what?” Her volume did not escalate, but the edge she spoke with tore through his gut. “You don’t want me to buy you clothes?”\n\n[i]NO. I DON’T.[/i] “Well, it’s just… you don’t have to.”\n\nShe leaned forward, drilling her eyes into his. “I know I don’t, but I want to. Do you know where Lakem Mall is?”\n\nHe gulped. “Yeah…”\n\n“Good!” Every bit of her intimidating attitude disappeared. She sat upright and smiled. “Be out front at noon on Saturday. I’ll meet you then!”\n\nHe tried smiling, but his lips were quivering too hard. Nobody could’ve seen it, but his penis was maddeningly erect. “O-OK, Carla. See you then…”\n\nThe countdown to Saturday was an excruciating one. He spent lunch with her every day in between as if nothing was coming. He knew he should’ve canceled. Every hour leading up to lunch had him reciting a kind but firm rejection of Carla’s invitation. [i]Sorry, but I’m busy that day. Something came up. I’ve got homework.[/i] Those were, of course, all lies, and he knew that the consequences of Carla finding out would be unpleasant. So he kept his mouth shut all the way up to when he got out of the Uber that took him to Lakem Mall.\n\nAs promised, Carla was waiting out front among the back and forth of patrons coming through the entrance. She wore torn, short-cut jeans and a baggy t-shirt whose front was tucked into her waistband. Her paw was on her hip, scowling out into the parking lot as she awaited Andrew’s arrival. Andrew, wearing belted loose shorts and an oversized t-shirt, stepped out of the Uber which had parked in front of the curb. Carla saw him, and her scowl instantly brightened into a smile. He smiled back, if weakly. [i]Here we go.[/i] She came up to him and pulled him in for a bone-crushing hug. His face mushed straight into her cushiony cleavage. For the split second his head was planted there, he could feel her warmth and heart beat thrum across his face. She let go, leaving his face cherry-red.\n\n“I’m so glad you came!” she cheered, holding both of his hands.\n\n“Ah! Me too. Hehe…” He licked his lips. He was shaking like a leaf. Already his penis was getting hard. [i]Calm down! It was just a hug.[/i] Hug or not, he wouldn’t have minded if she did it again.\n\nShe could tell how excited it had gotten him. [i]Just you wait, cutie.[/i] “Come on, let’s go. I know a few places that’ll have the perfect outfit for you.” She gripped one of his wrists and all but charged into the mall with his shoulder nearly coming out of its socket.\n\nHe stumbled a few steps before catching up. “O-OK!” [i]What have I gotten myself into?[/i]\n\nThe first store they visited was a chic little outlet with a sort of punk style that fitted Carla. Andrew surmised, correctly, that they would be going to places Carla frequented. He hardly knew any store names off the top of his head, conservative dresser that he was, so he didn’t suggest any. It wouldn’t have made a difference, not with Carla leading the way. She picked off a few items for him to wear, including torn skinny jeans, tight tank tops, faded jackets, and designer t-shirts. He stood behind her as she continuously yanked clothes off of the racks and piled them onto his open arms. He was struggling to look over the cumbersome stack by the time she led him to the changing rooms where he found a booth. He put on some torn jeans and a tight, salmon colored t-shirt. He felt stiff and awkward. He looked down at himself as if someone had just barfed all over him. [i]I look like a wreck.[/i] He stepped out of the booth. “How’s this?” he asked, unconvinced.\n\nCarla was sitting on a bench in front of him, waiting. The only thing that betrayed her true reaction was a quick dilating of her eyes, which she quickly suppressed. [i]Oh my God, he’s precious[/i]. Better than anything she had ever seen him in, his outfit gave away his lithe frame. She could appreciate how teeny he was. She loved it. “Hmm. Turn around for me, face the other way.” He obeyed, showing off his backside while looking back at her with a very unsure expression. He didn’t see it, but her bunny tail flicked behind her like wild. The bottom of his jeans cupped around his buttocks perfectly, giving her the best idea of what they looked like. [i]I could fit it in my paw~[/i] She stood up and came up to him. “Here, let’s get you straight.” She grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it into a proper place. She pulled up his jeans and wiggled around. Andrew’s heart was beating out of his chest. She was so strong, so assertive. His toes curled in his shoes. He wondered what it was like to be carried by her. He trusted that she was making him look better, given she was putting so much effort into adjusting everything.\n\nIn reality, she was just shifting his clothes around randomly. She needed an excuse to touch him and get a good feel in. His muscles were soft and pliable. Every part of him he touched gave way under her fingers like dough. He was light like a feather and offered no resistance. She wondered what it would be like to carry him. She bullshitted for a few more moments before she patted him on the shoulders. “There we go! You look sexy!”\n\nHis lips crinkled into a smile. “You think so?”\n\n“Yeah!” [i]I bet you’d look even better naked.[/i] “Let’s see what else you got. Try it all on.”\n\nA slightly invigorated Andrew stepped back into the booth to try on another set of clothes. Carla, grinning deviously, sat down at the bench and waited for him. He came out a minute later. She applauded his good looks and newfound confidence. Andrew tried another outfit on, and then another, each time sporting a more brazen smile than the last. He even took a few trips in front of the three-sided mirror to look at himself. The more he looked, the better he liked it. Carla, meanwhile, did the duty of snapping pictures, many of which were focused purely on his plump tush. \n\n“My turn!” Carla gaily announced once Andrew had put on the last outfit. He was smiling from ear to ear by that point. He wondered what he had been afraid of. This was fun! He sat at the bench, wearing his original clothes, and giddily awaited her first outfit. She went into the booth and reappeared wearing a flimsy cropped tank top and short shorts. Her taut, athletic trunk was on display, cratered at its center by her navel. He saw her underbelly for the first time, a creamy tan that was much softer than the rest of her fur. There was a whole lot of thigh he was seeing too, so much that he could almost see the bottom swell of her mighty glutes from out of her shorts. She knew it, and made sure to turn herself around for him so he could see. She gave a teasing flick of her bunny tail. “What do you think?”\n\nAndrew’s penis raged in his briefs. He was glad to have all of those clothes in his lap, although he knew it didn’t change much when it came to him. He gulped and tried to speak, but all that came was a meek croak. “[i]Ahah…[/i] It’s really good looking! Um… You look… pretty…” ‘Sexy’ was just on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back.\n\n“You think?” She stepped over to the mirror and inspected herself. She stuck her legs out at various angles, twisted herself around, jutted her ass out and slid her paws along her curves. She knew damn well she looked hot. She wanted him to know it too. Of course, he already did. His most current concern was that his nose might start bleeding. His eyes swung in their sockets along with the sway of her butt. He shifted in his seat as he felt his tummy churn and his penis throb. Carla pretended not to notice, although her bunny tail continued to perform antics. “You think I should go with this one?” she asked while adjusting her breasts when she didn’t need to.\n\n“Um… Yeah! It’s uh… really cute.”\n\n“Cute?” She turned around and looked him dead in the eyes. “Anything else? Or am I just cute?”\n\n“Um… well…” I took a deep breath. “You’re very pretty.”\n\n“Thanks. You said that.” She cocked an eyebrow at him and planted her paw on her bare midriff. “Got anything else?”\n\nHe knew what she wanted him to say. [i]Man up and say it![/i] “Um… You look… Hehe… sexy.”\n\nHer face blossomed triumphantly. “Thanks!” She spun around and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked at the reflection of a blushing Andrew staring at her ass. “I feel sexy.” She looked over her shoulder and waved him over. “C’mere. Let’s take a picture.”\n\n“Are… Are you sure?”\n\n“Yes! Put that first outfit you had on! We’ll look so cute together.”\n\n“O-OK!” He hurried back into the changing booth. Carla waited, grinning smugly up until his return. He joined her on the platform facing the mirror and stood next to her, a few inches away.\n\nShe wasn’t having any of that. “C’mere!” She grabbed his shoulder and yoinked him in front of her. She hugged one arm around his chest and locked him into her body. The back of his head fell into her cleavage. She pressed into him. He could feel her loins against the topside of his butt. His heart thudded against her powerful forearm which was lashed across his chest. He wrenched at the fabric of his jeans while the tips of his feet bent towards another. His balls ached and his sphincter shuddered. He hated how red his face was, but he managed a smile. He had to admit, they did look kinda cute together.\n\nCarla stood behind him, smiling from ear to ear with her giant rabbit incisors sticking out proudly from her mouth. He was so soft, so gentle, so easy. He looked so miniscule in front of her, trapped behind her muscular arm. She rested her chin on his soft, black hair and fished her phone out of her pocket. She turned the camera on and aimed it at their reflection. “Smile~” she commanded. She didn’t give him time to straighten his awkward grimace before she snapped a photo. “Cute~” she said without even checking the picture. She knew it was one she would cherish, whether Andrew wanted her to or not. She paid for his clothes as she said she would. He didn’t try resisting anymore. Why say no to such a kind gift? He told himself he would repay her in the future. It would be a debt she planned on collecting, albeit not via money.","writing_bbcode_parsed":"<span style='word-wrap: break-word;'>Andrew had one primary goal while attending Membridge University, one that was more important than graduating, more important than meeting people, more important than creating a successful future, and more important than getting good grades. Andrew, first and foremost, had to lay low. Having graduated near the top of his class, he had demonstrated an impressive work ethic in studying and learning. None of that was evident in his stature, however. He was short, barely achieving five feet and with a frame fit for a boy several years his junior. His skin was pale and his hair was black, cut to a short, conserative length. The clothes he wore were never flashy or expensive, and he never accessorized. Andrew abhorred the spotlight. His four long years in high school made him that way. Scrawny boy that he was, he became the unfortunate target of those who liked to take advantage of the weak. Picked on for his size, extorted for his belongings, and shunned from physical activities, he came to the conclusion that attention, no matter how positive or negative, was something to avoid at all costs. That did not change in the slightest once his journey as a college student began.<br /><br />Membridge was his first choice. After decades of being an all-anthro, all-girls school, it had finally made the leap of accepting humans and becoming coed. The university wanted to make a big show of it by accepting as many males and humans as it could in its first year of doing so. Andrew, along with many other boys and humans, were accepted with less regard than what was normal (although nobody openly admitted that). Confident that he would fit in better than other schools, he applied and was accepted soon after. Now was his chance to turn a new leaf, to make a man of himself. He wasn&rsquo;t going to be the short, scrawny human kid who got picked on and kicked around. The next four years were going to fly by without incident, no drama, no craziness. Lay low, and do your school work. That was the plan. <br /><br />For the first few weeks, everything went well. His roommate, Brittany, was a beagle who hardly gave him much attention after their first handshake. She had brilliant white fur broken apart by large spots of brown and a black back. Her floppy ears fell almost to her shoulders. Her eyes were a beautiful brown. She was a physically stacked girl, touting a curvaceous body Andrew couldn&rsquo;t help but catch himself staring at sometimes. Not that it mattered. She hardly seemed to notice him, spending much of her time on her phone or on her laptop whenever they were in their dorm together. Conversations between them were rare. The most interesting thing he knew about her was that she was a masseuse, but not much else. He determined that it was better that way. He shouldn&rsquo;t get emotionally attached to the girls there, especially not the pretty ones who hardly gave him the time of day. He didn&rsquo;t expect any of the girls at Membridge to notice him at all, and he was OK with that. It was all according to plan.<br /><br />Then came Carla.<br /><br />Carla, a jackrabbit, was a senior who wasn&rsquo;t a fan of Membridge accepting humans and boys. She wasn&rsquo;t racist or anything, so she insisted, but being in an environment full of nothing but fellow anthro females was something she had appreciated in her past few years of attending. She was there on a four year basketball scholarship, and had more than proved herself worthy of it. Tall not only for a girl at 6 feet, she was a supreme athlete whose physique well represented her talents on the hardwood. She was built like a miniature locomotive, having explosive thighs and glutes she liked to wear tight shorts over. Every part of her body bulged and rippled with muscle woven over by her soft, brown fur. Her ears were long and her paws were huge, fit for dribbling and dunking, the latter feat she was the only female college student capable of. At center, she led the division in rebounds and blocked shots. Her field goal percentage was among the highest and her hook shot was deadly.<br /><br />None of that, however, was what her fellow players knew her for. Carla, even more than being an athlete or a basketball player, was a competitor. One of her less callous mottos was &ldquo;bleed as much as you have to, so long as the opponent bleeds more.&rdquo; Her trash talk was legendary among those who heard it. She made every action on the court personal. Every loss was a foundation for a grudge. Any mistake, whether hers or her teammate&rsquo;s, was unforgivable. Girls on the team warned others trying out that at least half of them would leave the gym one day crying because of her. To Carla, it wasn&rsquo;t goodbye, it was good riddance. If you weren&rsquo;t ready to lay down even a fraction of the dedication and effort she did, then you could fuck right off. Winning was all that mattered, even if that meant a few feelings had to be hurt along the way. If you got in the way of that, God help you. Girls feared her across campus. Nobody, not even the staff or coaches, had the gumption to stand up to her. She got what she wanted when she wanted it, even if that meant taking it.<br /><br />Andrew, of all people, should&rsquo;ve made her sick. Any other person so tiny and frail would&rsquo;ve been an easy target for ridicule. She saw him for the first time while sitting with her friends at the&nbsp;&nbsp;picnic tables out in front of one of the main halls. Carla wasn&rsquo;t paying much attention to what her friends were saying. She was eying a throng of students making their way to their next class from one building to the next. So many humans, so many boys. She still wasn&rsquo;t used to it, and she didn&rsquo;t think she ever would be. Membridge was a sprawling campus, large for its small attendance of a few thousand. The lawns were well trimmed with the occasional chestnut tree sprouting from the earth. The campus used to be quiet with such a sparse population. Watching the lone girl carrying her books to the next class was charming. Now there were a bunch of boys to ruin that. She rested her chin on her bookbag which was on the table, between her two friends who were talking across her. She watched more people walk by, chatting amiably, joking and laughing. <em>Just one more year</em> she reminded herself. <em>It&rsquo;s no biggie. Nothing that&rsquo;ll distract you too much.</em><br /><br />Then her eyes fell on Andrew. Her face scrunched into a confused scowl. <em>Who let their kid on the campus?</em> She noticed the textbook clutched protectively to his chest, and the upright posture with which he walked. That was no kid. That was a student. He walked alone between two major groups of students. He didn&rsquo;t look like he was with anybody. She noticed how delicate he looked compared to the brawny anthros around him. Even next to his fellow humans he was pretty meager. He looked like the kind of person Carla could tear in two, or at least anyone with half the amount of muscle. A simple question fell into her mind, one she didn&rsquo;t expect to pursue. What&rsquo;s his name? She sat up and pointed at him. &ldquo;Hey, who&rsquo;s that guy?&rdquo;<br /><br />Her friends, one a gray cat named Melissa, the other a white cockatoo named Denise, looked at her, then at Andrew. &ldquo;Which one?&rdquo; asked Melissa.<br /><br />Carla pointed harder. &ldquo;That one. That human, the white short one.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;I think that&rsquo;s Brittany&rsquo;s roommate,&rdquo; Denise said. &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; Carla said, narrowing her eyes. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m just noticing him. You know his name?&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Denise. &ldquo;You wanna talk to him?&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Wanna ask him on a date?&rdquo; Melissa teased.<br /><br />They expected an indignant rebuttal, but Carla rubbed her chin instead. Her eyes tracked Andrew as he turned a corner on the sidewalk and walked his way to the study hall just behind the girls. She stared at him the whole way, even as he came within feet of their table. He didn&rsquo;t notice her, or at least pretended not to. He kept his gaze locked on the front doors until he disappeared behind them. Carla got a good look at him. He was even smaller up close. His short black hair was stark against his pasty white skin. His shirt seemed ready to slough off of his shoulders. His face was smooth and his nose was like a cute little button. She turned all the way around in her seat as she watched him enter the building. Melissa and Denise watched, perplexed.<br /><br />&ldquo;You gonna say something to him?&rdquo; Denise asked.<br /><br />Carla was quiet. She kept looking at the door where he had entered. She wondered what class he was going to, and where she might be able to introduce herself. Eventually she twisted back and resumed resting on her bag. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Not yet.&rdquo;<br /><br />For the next few days, Andrew was oblivious to the fact he was being followed. Carla kept track of his classes, what his schedule was, who he talked to, and when he retired to the dorm. She kept her distance, just enough to go unnoticed. Nothing Andrew did would have warranted a stalker, which is why he was never alert to her presence. Paradoxically, it was his relatively boring routine that drew Carla in deeper. He&rsquo;d become an enigma to her. What was his deal? What did he do? Were all humans this boring? She approached Brittany one day and asked about him. She didn&rsquo;t get much more than a &ldquo;I dunno. He doesn&rsquo;t talk much. He&rsquo;s cute though.&rdquo; That wasn&rsquo;t any help. The more she watched him the more her interest piqued. She had to admit it, he was cute. It was a shame he wasn&rsquo;t expressive with it. She thought about him at night and at practice. She&rsquo;d never been so distracted over a boy before. She knew he wouldn&rsquo;t leave her mind until she knew everything there was to know about him. How old he was, where he was from, why he was so quiet. That was the information Carla wanted to know, and like everything else she wanted, she was going to get it.<br /><br />Among Andrew&rsquo;s daily habits was having a bagged lunch at the cafeteria. Naturally, he sat alone in a corner at a booth far removed from the hustle and bustle of everyone around him. He sat down, ate his lunch, and then left, usually within a span of ten minutes. It was one day when Carla took a sledgehammer to that plan by sitting next to him, seemingly unprovoked. She had packed her own lunch, not bothering to get in line with everyone else. She didn&rsquo;t want to risk losing him. Bag in hand, she strutted her way to his corner, wearing navy blue short shorts and a tank top featuring Membridge&rsquo;s logo. She wanted him to see how big she was, a trick she was familiar with and well equipped to implement. Andrew was just opening a tupperware holding his sandwich when he looked up to see that mountain of a rabbit plop down right next to him, blocking him into the booth. His eyes went round as he looked up at her, utterly unsure of what to do or say. As planned, his eyes fell on her muscles, then her breasts, then back up to her topaz eyes. He gulped and opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a pathetic squeak. &ldquo;<em>Ahh&hellip;</em>&rdquo;<br /><br />Carla smiled. <em>We&rsquo;re off to a good start.</em> &ldquo;Hi! I&rsquo;m Carla. What&rsquo;s your name?&rdquo; She laid out her massive paw on the edge of the table, close to him. She noticed how limp and clammy his hand looked. She bet he masturbated frequently.<br /><br />Andrew licked his lips. His throat went tight and his sphincter puckered. Her broad thigh pressed against his, just the right amount of contact to elicit a buzz within him. His heart pounded and his lungs stuttered. All she had asked him was his name. He chanted in his mind, <em>Man up! New leaf! Calm down! Man up!</em> He gulped. &ldquo;Andrew. Nice to meet you.&rdquo;<br /><br />His voice was soft, meek, and somewhat nasally. She didn&rsquo;t think he&rsquo;d ever screamed in his life, or was even capable of it. &ldquo;Nice to meet you too!&rdquo; She held her paw out to shake. He took it, only to have his hand swallowed by her giant, padded paw. His skin was just as soft and doughy as she had thought it was. &ldquo;I hope you don&rsquo;t mind me sitting with you.&rdquo;<br /><br />He retracted his hand and slid it into his lap as if to protect it. &ldquo;No, I don&rsquo;t mind.&rdquo; That was a lie, but she hardly seemed the kind of person to leave if he had told her otherwise.<br /><br />&ldquo;Good! I saw you sitting here all by yourself and just thought you needed some company. I don&rsquo;t like it when people eat by themselves, ya know?&rdquo; <em>Or keep themselves all mysterious, especially cute ones like you. I bet you&rsquo;re a virgin.</em><br /><br />&ldquo;Uh, yeah. Thanks. That means a lot.&rdquo; Everything in his head screamed at him to tell her to go away, to say he preferred to eat alone. He was painfully aware of the people in the cafeteria staring at them. People noticed when the school superstar went to sit with the weird kid. They knew something was up, and so did he. She wasn&rsquo;t doing this out of the kindness of her heart. No one ever did. She was up to something. He knew all of that, but still, he said nothing. The occasional glance at her biceps and the admittedly pleasant feel of her thigh touching him convinced him to stay quiet. &ldquo;You, uh&hellip; You play basketball, right?&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;I do!&rdquo; <em>So, you know something about me. That means I oughta know something about you.</em> &ldquo;What do you do, Andrew? I see you around campus a lot, but not in any clubs or sports.<br /><br />Andrew scoffed. <em>Like I could play any sports.</em> &ldquo;Yeah, I&rsquo;m not in any clubs.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;<br /><br />He shrugged. &ldquo;Nothing interests me here, I guess.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Nonsense. There&rsquo;s gotta be something you like, something you like to do or learn about. Something you&rsquo;re good at.&rdquo; She cut a glance at his fragile physique. &ldquo;Doesn&rsquo;t have to be sports.&rdquo;<br /><br />It wasn&rsquo;t lost on him why she added that last bit. He was used to such remarks, especially from cruel jocks like her. &ldquo;Well, I just haven&rsquo;t looked at any clubs yet.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Well, you should. Cute boy like you shouldn&rsquo;t be all on your own.&rdquo; She looked away from him to unload her lunch bag, but she saw his reaction out of the corner of her eye. He went into what looked like a thousand yard stare. His eyes went wide and his back went stiff. That complexion of his, normally so chalky, went blood red. She smiled to herself, pretending not to notice. <em>God, this one&rsquo;s gonna be easy.</em><br /><br /><em>Cute? Did she just call me cute?</em> He wasn&rsquo;t at all prepared for that word, no matter how innocent it was intended. He told himself that it didn&rsquo;t mean anything, that it was just a passive compliment, but emotions are rarely ever so easy to convince. No girl had ever called him cute, least of all a physical specimen like Carla. He folded his hands into his lap and squeezed his thighs together as the energy buzzing through his manhood began to flutter. He cleared his throat. &ldquo;Ah&hellip; Well&hellip; Thanks&hellip; I might&hellip; Um&hellip; Yeah&hellip; I might&hellip; do&hellip; that&hellip;&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;He was kicking himself internally. <em>Smooth. Real smooth.</em><br /><br />&ldquo;Do what?&rdquo; she asked, trying her best not to smile too smugly.<br /><br />&ldquo;Um&hellip; Join a club, I guess.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Good!&rdquo; She held out her fist for him to bump. He smiled nervously and touched knuckles. She chuckled. &ldquo;What do you want to do?&rdquo;<br /><br />He couldn&rsquo;t help but smile. Bumping fists with her was like a small victory. &ldquo;Well, I know there&rsquo;s an IT internship. I might apply for that.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Then do it. Go right up there and tell them you want to apply. Don&rsquo;t take no for an answer.&rdquo;<br /><br />His smile faltered. &ldquo;Ah, well&hellip;&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t think you can do all that?&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Not like that, no.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t worry.&rdquo; She patted his thigh, making him jerk. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll say something to somebody. People know me around here. I can put a good word for you.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;You uh&hellip; You don&rsquo;t have to do that.&rdquo;<br /><br />Her smile fell into an icy scowl. &ldquo;No, I don&rsquo;t, but I&rsquo;m gonna,&rdquo; she said sternly.<br /><br />He was again made aware of how strong she looked. He nodded quickly. &ldquo;OK. Thanks.&rdquo;<br /><br />Her smile returned as quickly as it had vanished. &ldquo;No problem, Andrew.&rdquo; She patted his thigh and started to eat her lunch. Andrew looked ahead, resuming his thousand yard stare. <em>What just happened?</em> He was sitting at his booth, minding his own business, when the world threw him a curveball and plopped Carla down next to him. Nothing he had done should&#039;ve led to that happening, or so he thought. What made her do that? Was it really her just being nice? What should he do now? He looked at the sandwich in front of him, still neatly tucked into its container, cut diagonally, chicken salad, just like his mom used to make. He wondered what she&rsquo;d say if she saw him now. What would she say? What would she tell him to do?<br /><br />None of that mattered. His mom wasn&rsquo;t here. There was no point in making a big deal out of it. He reminded himself: <em>Man up. New leaf.</em> With his usual lack of fanfare or noise, he quietly picked his sandwich up and started eating, happy to have some company for once.<br /><br /><div class='align_center'>*\t*\t*</div><br /><br />True to his word, Andrew applied for an internship. It was surprisingly easy. He stepped into the IT department, said he would like to apply, and was given a piece of paper to fill out. He did, and got an email telling him that he had been accepted. His goal of laying low became difficult for the rest of that day thanks to the giddy grin he wore throughout. What he didn&rsquo;t know was that Carla had held up her end of the bargain too. She approached the IT director, a sheep, in her office immediately after eating lunch with Andrew.<br /><br />&ldquo;A friend of mine is gonna apply for an internship,&rdquo; Carla told her flatly. &ldquo;You should take him.&rdquo;<br /><br />The sheep, a short woman with puffed out, snow-white wool and glasses thick enough to stop a bullet, told her as gently as she could. &ldquo;Sorry, but that position&rsquo;s already filled.&rdquo; She perked up. &ldquo;I know somewhere else they can try, though!&rdquo;<br /><br />Carla made no reaction. Her face remained stolid as she leaned over the sheep&rsquo;s desk. She gripped the edge hard enough so that the tendons in her forearm bulged. She spoke slowly. &ldquo;A friend of mine is gonna apply for an internship. You should take him.&rdquo;<br /><br />That was verbatim what she had already said, yet the sheep seemed to hear her for the first time. Heart thumping, the director nodded. &ldquo;O-OK! I think we can squeeze something in for them. What&rsquo;s their name?&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Andrew. He&rsquo;s a human.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;OK! I&rsquo;ll look out for him.&rdquo;<br /><br />Carla didn&rsquo;t thank her. She turned around and left. She met Andrew at their booth the day of his acceptance. She noticed his smile as soon as he sat down across from her. He gave her the good news. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s great! I&rsquo;m so proud of you!&rdquo; She held her paw up for a high-five which he gladly delivered. <br /><br />&ldquo;Yeah! I gotta say, thanks for making me do that. I don&rsquo;t think I was going to on my own.&rdquo;<br /><br /><em>God, he&rsquo;s precious when he smiles.</em> &ldquo;My pleasure. I hope it all works out for you.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Me too.&rdquo; Unable to stop smiling, he opened his bag and laid out his lunch.<br /><br />Carla watched him for several moments before she spoke. &ldquo;Are you doing anything this weekend?&rdquo;<br /><br />Andrew was in the middle tearing a spork out of its plastic when he came to a dead stop. He stared at her blankly. &ldquo;Um&hellip; No. I don&rsquo;t think so.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Good. Wanna hang out? Maybe at the mall? Why don&rsquo;t we go shopping together?&rdquo;<br /><br />He stayed where he was, utterly frozen. The half-freed spork jutted from the plastic wrap like a knife through fabric. On cue, his face flushed. &ldquo;Um&hellip; Well, I don&rsquo;t have any, um&hellip; I can&rsquo;t&hellip; I don&rsquo;t&hellip;&rdquo; <em>What the hell am I supposed to say to that?</em><br /><br />&ldquo;No money? Don&rsquo;t worry. I can buy you some stuff.&rdquo; She was already picturing him in some different outfits. Some were more bare than others. Some weren&rsquo;t outfits at all. <em>I bet he has a cute butt. I would know if he didn&rsquo;t wear those baggy pants.</em> &ldquo;You can just pay me back. It&rsquo;s no big deal.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;O-OK&hellip; But-&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;But what?&rdquo; Her volume did not escalate, but the edge she spoke with tore through his gut. &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t want me to buy you clothes?&rdquo;<br /><br /><em>NO. I DON&rsquo;T.</em> &ldquo;Well, it&rsquo;s just&hellip; you don&rsquo;t have to.&rdquo;<br /><br />She leaned forward, drilling her eyes into his. &ldquo;I know I don&rsquo;t, but I want to. Do you know where Lakem Mall is?&rdquo;<br /><br />He gulped. &ldquo;Yeah&hellip;&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Good!&rdquo; Every bit of her intimidating attitude disappeared. She sat upright and smiled. &ldquo;Be out front at noon on Saturday. I&rsquo;ll meet you then!&rdquo;<br /><br />He tried smiling, but his lips were quivering too hard. Nobody could&rsquo;ve seen it, but his penis was maddeningly erect. &ldquo;O-OK, Carla. See you then&hellip;&rdquo;<br /><br />The countdown to Saturday was an excruciating one. He spent lunch with her every day in between as if nothing was coming. He knew he should&rsquo;ve canceled. Every hour leading up to lunch had him reciting a kind but firm rejection of Carla&rsquo;s invitation. <em>Sorry, but I&rsquo;m busy that day. Something came up. I&rsquo;ve got homework.</em> Those were, of course, all lies, and he knew that the consequences of Carla finding out would be unpleasant. So he kept his mouth shut all the way up to when he got out of the Uber that took him to Lakem Mall.<br /><br />As promised, Carla was waiting out front among the back and forth of patrons coming through the entrance. She wore torn, short-cut jeans and a baggy t-shirt whose front was tucked into her waistband. Her paw was on her hip, scowling out into the parking lot as she awaited Andrew&rsquo;s arrival. Andrew, wearing belted loose shorts and an oversized t-shirt, stepped out of the Uber which had parked in front of the curb. Carla saw him, and her scowl instantly brightened into a smile. He smiled back, if weakly. <em>Here we go.</em> She came up to him and pulled him in for a bone-crushing hug. His face mushed straight into her cushiony cleavage. For the split second his head was planted there, he could feel her warmth and heart beat thrum across his face. She let go, leaving his face cherry-red.<br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m so glad you came!&rdquo; she cheered, holding both of his hands.<br /><br />&ldquo;Ah! Me too. Hehe&hellip;&rdquo; He licked his lips. He was shaking like a leaf. Already his penis was getting hard. <em>Calm down! It was just a hug.</em> Hug or not, he wouldn&rsquo;t have minded if she did it again.<br /><br />She could tell how excited it had gotten him. <em>Just you wait, cutie.</em> &ldquo;Come on, let&rsquo;s go. I know a few places that&rsquo;ll have the perfect outfit for you.&rdquo; She gripped one of his wrists and all but charged into the mall with his shoulder nearly coming out of its socket.<br /><br />He stumbled a few steps before catching up. &ldquo;O-OK!&rdquo; <em>What have I gotten myself into?</em><br /><br />The first store they visited was a chic little outlet with a sort of punk style that fitted Carla. Andrew surmised, correctly, that they would be going to places Carla frequented. He hardly knew any store names off the top of his head, conservative dresser that he was, so he didn&rsquo;t suggest any. It wouldn&rsquo;t have made a difference, not with Carla leading the way. She picked off a few items for him to wear, including torn skinny jeans, tight tank tops, faded jackets, and designer t-shirts. He stood behind her as she continuously yanked clothes off of the racks and piled them onto his open arms. He was struggling to look over the cumbersome stack by the time she led him to the changing rooms where he found a booth. He put on some torn jeans and a tight, salmon colored t-shirt. He felt stiff and awkward. He looked down at himself as if someone had just barfed all over him. <em>I look like a wreck.</em> He stepped out of the booth. &ldquo;How&rsquo;s this?&rdquo; he asked, unconvinced.<br /><br />Carla was sitting on a bench in front of him, waiting. The only thing that betrayed her true reaction was a quick dilating of her eyes, which she quickly suppressed. <em>Oh my God, he&rsquo;s precious</em>. Better than anything she had ever seen him in, his outfit gave away his lithe frame. She could appreciate how teeny he was. She loved it. &ldquo;Hmm. Turn around for me, face the other way.&rdquo; He obeyed, showing off his backside while looking back at her with a very unsure expression. He didn&rsquo;t see it, but her bunny tail flicked behind her like wild. The bottom of his jeans cupped around his buttocks perfectly, giving her the best idea of what they looked like. <em>I could fit it in my paw~</em> She stood up and came up to him. &ldquo;Here, let&rsquo;s get you straight.&rdquo; She grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it into a proper place. She pulled up his jeans and wiggled around. Andrew&rsquo;s heart was beating out of his chest. She was so strong, so assertive. His toes curled in his shoes. He wondered what it was like to be carried by her. He trusted that she was making him look better, given she was putting so much effort into adjusting everything.<br /><br />In reality, she was just shifting his clothes around randomly. She needed an excuse to touch him and get a good feel in. His muscles were soft and pliable. Every part of him he touched gave way under her fingers like dough. He was light like a feather and offered no resistance. She wondered what it would be like to carry him. She bullshitted for a few more moments before she patted him on the shoulders. &ldquo;There we go! You look sexy!&rdquo;<br /><br />His lips crinkled into a smile. &ldquo;You think so?&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Yeah!&rdquo; <em>I bet you&rsquo;d look even better naked.</em> &ldquo;Let&rsquo;s see what else you got. Try it all on.&rdquo;<br /><br />A slightly invigorated Andrew stepped back into the booth to try on another set of clothes. Carla, grinning deviously, sat down at the bench and waited for him. He came out a minute later. She applauded his good looks and newfound confidence. Andrew tried another outfit on, and then another, each time sporting a more brazen smile than the last. He even took a few trips in front of the three-sided mirror to look at himself. The more he looked, the better he liked it. Carla, meanwhile, did the duty of snapping pictures, many of which were focused purely on his plump tush. <br /><br />&ldquo;My turn!&rdquo; Carla gaily announced once Andrew had put on the last outfit. He was smiling from ear to ear by that point. He wondered what he had been afraid of. This was fun! He sat at the bench, wearing his original clothes, and giddily awaited her first outfit. She went into the booth and reappeared wearing a flimsy cropped tank top and short shorts. Her taut, athletic trunk was on display, cratered at its center by her navel. He saw her underbelly for the first time, a creamy tan that was much softer than the rest of her fur. There was a whole lot of thigh he was seeing too, so much that he could almost see the bottom swell of her mighty glutes from out of her shorts. She knew it, and made sure to turn herself around for him so he could see. She gave a teasing flick of her bunny tail. &ldquo;What do you think?&rdquo;<br /><br />Andrew&rsquo;s penis raged in his briefs. He was glad to have all of those clothes in his lap, although he knew it didn&rsquo;t change much when it came to him. He gulped and tried to speak, but all that came was a meek croak. &ldquo;<em>Ahah&hellip;</em> It&rsquo;s really good looking! Um&hellip; You look&hellip; pretty&hellip;&rdquo; &lsquo;Sexy&rsquo; was just on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back.<br /><br />&ldquo;You think?&rdquo; She stepped over to the mirror and inspected herself. She stuck her legs out at various angles, twisted herself around, jutted her ass out and slid her paws along her curves. She knew damn well she looked hot. She wanted him to know it too. Of course, he already did. His most current concern was that his nose might start bleeding. His eyes swung in their sockets along with the sway of her butt. He shifted in his seat as he felt his tummy churn and his penis throb. Carla pretended not to notice, although her bunny tail continued to perform antics. &ldquo;You think I should go with this one?&rdquo; she asked while adjusting her breasts when she didn&rsquo;t need to.<br /><br />&ldquo;Um&hellip; Yeah! It&rsquo;s uh&hellip; really cute.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Cute?&rdquo; She turned around and looked him dead in the eyes. &ldquo;Anything else? Or am I just cute?&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Um&hellip; well&hellip;&rdquo; I took a deep breath. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re very pretty.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Thanks. You said that.&rdquo; She cocked an eyebrow at him and planted her paw on her bare midriff. &ldquo;Got anything else?&rdquo;<br /><br />He knew what she wanted him to say. <em>Man up and say it!</em> &ldquo;Um&hellip; You look&hellip; Hehe&hellip; sexy.&rdquo;<br /><br />Her face blossomed triumphantly. &ldquo;Thanks!&rdquo; She spun around and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked at the reflection of a blushing Andrew staring at her ass. &ldquo;I feel sexy.&rdquo; She looked over her shoulder and waved him over. &ldquo;C&rsquo;mere. Let&rsquo;s take a picture.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Are&hellip; Are you sure?&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Yes! Put that first outfit you had on! We&rsquo;ll look so cute together.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;O-OK!&rdquo; He hurried back into the changing booth. Carla waited, grinning smugly up until his return. He joined her on the platform facing the mirror and stood next to her, a few inches away.<br /><br />She wasn&rsquo;t having any of that. &ldquo;C&rsquo;mere!&rdquo; She grabbed his shoulder and yoinked him in front of her. She hugged one arm around his chest and locked him into her body. The back of his head fell into her cleavage. She pressed into him. He could feel her loins against the topside of his butt. His heart thudded against her powerful forearm which was lashed across his chest. He wrenched at the fabric of his jeans while the tips of his feet bent towards another. His balls ached and his sphincter shuddered. He hated how red his face was, but he managed a smile. He had to admit, they did look kinda cute together.<br /><br />Carla stood behind him, smiling from ear to ear with her giant rabbit incisors sticking out proudly from her mouth. He was so soft, so gentle, so easy. He looked so miniscule in front of her, trapped behind her muscular arm. She rested her chin on his soft, black hair and fished her phone out of her pocket. She turned the camera on and aimed it at their reflection. &ldquo;Smile~&rdquo; she commanded. She didn&rsquo;t give him time to straighten his awkward grimace before she snapped a photo. &ldquo;Cute~&rdquo; she said without even checking the picture. She knew it was one she would cherish, whether Andrew wanted her to or not. She paid for his clothes as she said she would. He didn&rsquo;t try resisting anymore. Why say no to such a kind gift? He told himself he would repay her in the future. It would be a debt she planned on collecting, albeit not via money.</span>","pools_count":0,"title":"A Lot With a Little Part 1 - Commission for hoot12","deleted":"f","public":"t","mimetype":"text/rtf","pagecount":"1","rating_id":"2","rating_name":"Adult","ratings":[{"content_tag_id":"4","name":"Sexual Themes","description":"Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal","rating_id":"2"}],"submission_type_id":"12","type_name":"Writing - Document","guest_block":"f","friends_only":"f","comments_count":"0","views":"69"}